Permafrost (5)
A gunshot rang out.
The crowd at Gwanghwamun, which had been singing and shouting, went dead silent in an instant. Everyone sucked in their breath as the child who'd been hit crumpled limply to the side.
“Gah—!”
“No, aaagh! Youngmin!”
The old man tried to bolt toward his grandson, but the people around him held him back—afraid that he, too, would be shot. Instead, others stepped forward and carried the child in their arms.
Rebels who had been hidden throughout the crowd sprang up, snatching the guns concealed in their bags. If it came to it, they were ready to fire back.
“They shot a child······.”
“Th-the government shot us······!”
Hearing the gunshot, Yoo Hyun and Kim Myung-woo shot to their feet in alarm and pushed through the crowd to the front of the protest line.
(What do we do?)
“Hold position for now.”
Kim Myung-woo answered his men over the radio. There was still no telling which side had fired. The mood in the air was anything but normal. Something was about to happen—any moment now.
“Was it you?”
“N-no, sir, it wasn’t me······!”
The police were in just as much of a panic. The young officer, who had been even more shocked than anyone at seeing a child collapse before his eyes, shook his head violently. All he'd done was try to get some water.
They had shot a kid who was barely old enough to be starting high school. Rage began to smolder and spread through the protesters.
“The government has abandoned us!”
“They shot us!”
Yoo Hyun and Kim Myung-woo turned their heads, scanning every direction. Panic churned through the crowd's cries, and the square quickly descended into turmoil.
If I just destroy this······.
The moment she laid eyes on the data, she knew. It would take her years just to interpret it.
If I can't make it myself, then I might as well tear it all down from the beginning. If she claimed she'd pressed the wrong thing by accident, even Chae Seol-hwan couldn't say a word about it.
Jung Yu-na belonged to a generous, well-connected major corporation in the heart of the capital. As long as the capital didn't fall, she was safe.
So all she had to do was go back to Seoul, live off that comfortable corporate benefits package, and coast until the day she died······.
“Don't forget that I'm the one who sponsored you.”
“You shouldn't let yourself be used like this.”
Park Chul-moon's voice and Jin Young-do's crossed in her mind. And then came the memory of the death row inmate's corpse—the one who had tried to kill Chae Seol-hwan.
With her finger resting on the data-wipe button, Jung Yu-na let out the breath she'd been holding.
I can't do it.
She pulled her hand away without pressing it.
She could see Chae Seol-hwan leaning against the wall. Tears welled up in Jung Yu-na's eyes. She was an ambitious woman, yes—but she wasn't a woman without a conscience.
Compared to Chae Seol-hwan's brilliant dream of developing the vaccine and the cure purely for the sake of people themselves, her own motives were hideously ugly.
And just now, blinded by jealousy and self-interest, she had come within a hair's breadth of an act that could have led to humanity's extinction. She was so disgusted with herself that she gagged.
“Why didn't you do it?”
Jung Yu-na flinched at the cold voice and spun around.
Jin Young-do was holding a different bottle this time. Had he really drained the last one that quickly?
He settled down against the wall near her. Jung Yu-na wiped her eyes with her sleeve and asked, feigning ignorance.
“Do what?”
“You were about to wipe the data.”
“I was not? And are you planning to keep talking down to me?”
She didn't like Jin Young-do. She hated that gaze of his, the one that saw straight through people even as he smirked. Because unlike her, he had chosen a principled, honorable death.
“Frankly, I'd rather it were you who developed the vaccine, Jung Yu-na, than that bespectacled guy over there.”
“Why?”
“Because I figure you'd outlive him.”
Jin Young-do had known from the very start that the Antarctic expedition team was not made up of normal people. The way they each slipped off for secret calls with their patrons, the way they all hovered waiting for instructions—it was obvious.
And though she probably didn't know it, someone had tried to quietly kill her, too. Just like Chae Seol-hwan.
None of these people are in their right mind.
Out here, the only thing anyone should be thinking about was survival—not being spent like pawns in some convoluted political game.
That was why he'd let slip what he did earlier: that her team had been sent here because no one would care if people like him died. That she'd better wake up.
“And what if I do survive and put it to some terrible use?”
“So you do realize it would be a terrible use, then.”
It was a riddle of a retort, but having her mind read so easily, Jung Yu-na swallowed hard.
If she developed the vaccine and cure, she would have founded her own company and acted for her own profit and nothing else. Since that was impossible, she'd tried to erase the data itself.
“Give me some too.”
That Jin Young-do had already put his mouth to the bottle hardly mattered. He twisted the mouth of the jug toward her and handed it over.
Their fingers brushed. It was nothing more than a grazing of fingertips, and yet a thick, heavy tension seemed to crackle off the contact like sparks.
“Khh······.”
“You can hold your liquor.”
Jung Yu-na gulped the booze down while looking straight at Jin Young-do, and he stared right back, refusing to avert his eyes.
Truthfully, this scene had been improvised. The director, loving how the two of them looked paired together, had deliberately directed them to raise the tension between them.
A touch of metaphor, so the audience could imagine all sorts of things—Yoon Jay and Baek Da-eun carried it off beautifully.
“So, why didn't you press that button?”
“Because I'm still a good person.”
“Says who—you?”
“So what if I did.”
Jung Yu-na plopped down beside Jin Young-do and hugged her knees to her chest. Now that it had come to this, she would have to decide her path, once and for all, before they returned to Seoul.
“But are you really going to die?”
“I have to.”
“What on earth happened here, anyway?”
“Can't you tell from the state of things out there? The monsters attacked, and all my men died. I barely survived and made it back home—and there wasn't a single word on the broadcast about the monsters. Just that the lab blew up because of my mistake.”
“Didn't you file a protest or anything?”
“What makes you think I didn't?”
He had been half out of his mind with grief over the deaths of the men he'd cherished, but even worse than that was the false report claiming he had gotten his own men killed.
And yet his truth was buried by the powers that be. What was it that brigadier general had said back then?
“Your sacrifice alone will be enough to prevent the chaos.”
“Even if you cover up the truth, sir, it will come out eventually.”
“Well······ there are some truths that never come to light.”
While monsters ran rampant abroad, the country had trumpeted its own safety—only for everything to fall apart when a monster appeared in a densely populated district at last.
And to think that the key to peace had been discovered, belatedly, buried inside the very truth they'd smothered. A smirk leaked from the corner of Jin Young-do's mouth.
This man is completely drunk. Jung Yu-na frowned.
“And what's this for?”
“Just in case. Keep it.”
Jung Yu-na looked up at the pistol he was holding out to her. At the dead seriousness in Jin Young-do's eyes, her own wavered.
“Once you've made up your mind, don't waver.”
“······I'll take care of it myself.”
She took the gun and tucked it into her waistband, and a shiver ran through her body.
WeeeeeEEEE—
A siren wailed.
“What's that?”
“A signal that there's a monster nearby.”
Jin Young-do gathered up his gear as if he'd never been slurring and snickering a moment ago.
“I asked you what happened here, remember?”
With a clack, he loaded his gun. Five years ago, after losing every one of his men, Jin Young-do had barely managed to bring down a single monster and board the helicopter.
And the panorama of Antarctica that he'd seen from that helicopter had been nothing short of staggering. Far in the distance, the shadows of monsters were gathering—like a swarm of ants.
“This is where it all began.”
“What?”
“This land is the monsters' nest.”
Which meant the place outside was crawling with them. The color drained from Jung Yu-na's face in an instant.
“When does the helicopter get here?”
“Thirty minutes from now.”
“Go wake up that goody-two-shoes.”
“Yes, sir!”
Jung Yu-na moved to approach Chae Seol-hwan—but he was already on his feet, gathering his things. The data, and even the initial schematics for the vaccine. All of it.
“You······ when did you wake up?”
“Just now.”
The Chae Seol-hwan she knew would stay groggy and bleary for at least ten minutes after waking. But right now, he was perfectly lucid.
Don't tell me······ he was awake the whole time?
And if he was······ did he see what I was about to do? Jung Yu-na bit down hard on her lower lip.
Taang!
And then, another gunshot.
This time, it came from the protesters' side. The policeman who was hit toppled backward.
Kim Myung-woo, the rebels' leader, roared in fury.
“I told you to hold your fire!”
(W-well······!)
Bang! Bang! Gunfire cracked out again.
This time it was the police returning fire. The sound of someone crumpling to the ground rang out.
“Assemblyman!”
“Get Assemblyman Kook out of here, now!”
Kook Min-han had stepped to the very front of the protest line, begging them not to shoot. He was the frontrunner for the next presidency—he'd believed no one would dare shoot him.
But a stray bullet, blind to all of it, tore mercilessly through his shoulder.
“Goddammit······! Everyone, fall back! We'll take the front!”
At Kim Myung-woo's command, the armed rebels at last moved to block the protesters' line.
“Move aside! I'm a doctor!”
The doctor rushed to the child who'd been shot first, stripping off his outer coat to stanch the wound.
But it was nowhere near enough to hold back the blood pumping out in gulps. The boy needed a transfusion—and out here, they couldn't even give him proper treatment.
“Doctor, please save our grandson······!”
“J-just one moment······!”
Frantic at the old man's piteous voice, the doctor answered the call that had just come in from his professor.
(Dr. Park, didn't you say you were going to Gwanghwamun? Where are you?)
“W-well······.”
(······That was gunfire just now, wasn't it?)
“Professor······ the police shot a child.”
(What?)
“It's—it's total chaos here right now. Someone, anyone, please come quickly. Please.”
And the call cut off with a click.
“Dr. Park! Dr. Park!”
In the emergency room of S University Hospital, Professor Im—the same woman who had relentlessly hounded Jin Young-do—shot up from her seat.
She'd been uneasy ever since hearing he was joining the rally during his long-awaited vacation. But gunfire? Who on earth had been shot?
“Dr. Kim, you know how to drive an ambulance, right?”
“Uh······ yes.”
“Good. Load up every piece of emergency equipment we have.”
Without a single moment's hesitation, Professor Im sprang into action.
“Where are we going?”
“Gwanghwamun.”
Bullets were flying, terrified people scrambling to dodge them, and Gwanghwamun Square had been thrown into utter pandemonium—the Minister of National Defense summoned Brigadier General Wee.
“Brigadier General Wee.”
“Sir.”
“Go suppress the riot.”
“······Could you say that again, sir?”
Wee wore the expression of a man who wished he hadn't heard what he'd just heard.
“Are your ears clogged? The Gwanghwamun rally has degenerated into a riot. Go and put it down.”
“But, sir, the monster that appeared near Bukaksan······.”
“Is that what matters right now?!”
Then what does, you insane bastard?! Swallowing the words down, Wee gritted his teeth. A monster had appeared in the very heart of Seoul—and they wanted him to ignore it and level guns at civilians?
“You are ordering me to shoot the people, sir?”
“I am.”
The minister's hand came to rest on the hesitating Wee's shoulder.
“Brigadier General Wee. You haven't forgotten everything you owe us, have you?”
“······.”
“The moment you walk out that door, every action you take is yours alone—your own decision, your own responsibility.”
Just as Brigadier General Wee had once pinned the Antarctic base massacre on Jin Young-do for the sake of momentary peace, so too was Wee himself being swept along by forces beyond his control.
Once outside, Wee could no longer contain his fury and kicked over a trash can.
“Goddammit!”
But there was no other way. He had already eaten far too much from their hands, and they held far too many of his weaknesses in their grip.
In the end, Brigadier General Wee led his troops toward Gwanghwamun. He did not move to suppress the crowd the moment he arrived. Instead, he raised a loudspeaker and tried to persuade the people.
“Everyone, please calm down!”
Wee issued a stern warning: if the crowd did not disperse immediately, his forces would open fire.
It was then that Assemblyman Kook Min-han, freshly patched up with emergency treatment from Professor Im's ambulance, stepped forward.
“Brigadier General Wee! You're not actually going to shoot us if we don't disperse, are you?”
“Assemblyman Kook, what are you doing here?”
As Wee's brow furrowed, Kim Myung-woo—the rebel leader who had been watching the whole scene unfold from the shadows—let his eyes glint, cold and lethal.
Brigadier General Wee······.