Chapter 40
Chapter 40
Screech. The car carrying me and Moo-young came to a stop at a cargo loading yard on the Incheon Port waterfront. We drove a good ways farther from there, and smack in the middle of the loading zone, a crowd of people had gathered.
"......"
"........."
They were dressed in clean clothes, but somehow shrunken and intimidated. And those eyes staring at us, filled with fear.
These were the hundreds of civilians originally slated for "delivery" to Jo Seong-hwan's lab.
"Ah, there they are."
Watching them with a complicated expression was Bu-ne-tal, one of Hwae's top cadres. When I asked about their condition, he shook his head slowly at me.
"We've mostly taken care of the physical injuries and malnutrition. But these people..."
"The real problem's their minds, right?"
I muttered that, then scanned the crowd. Vacant stares, eyes without focus. I tried greeting a few, but not one seemed to really hear me.
This was pretty damn serious.
As I scratched the back of my neck thinking that—
"We're grateful for the help, young master... but convincing these folks won't be easy."
An old man, the apparent spokesman for the kidnapped group, muttered in a voice thick with resignation.
"Not to be rude, but even if we get out of here, what hope is there for people like us?"
"......!"
"Yeah, fair point."
I glanced at Moo-young, who was standing there at a loss, and said it plainly.
"These people have spent their whole lives scraping by in poverty, then got snatched up by the sword guilds and turned into merchandise. They don't have any will to live left, so herding them where we want won't be simple."
On top of that, the staff holding them had loose lips, because these folks knew quite a bit. They knew they'd been brought here on the orders of some high-and-mighty figure. And that the moment they were kidnapped, their citizen registrations had been erased—marked as dead.
"Citizen registration erased? So these people are...!"
"Exactly what you're thinking."
Joseon assigns serial numbers even to a single slave or head of livestock. In such a country, humans without citizenship are treated worse than animals. Sure, you might have money, but you can't spend it—possessing currency without citizen registration is forbidden. A house? Dream on. You couldn't even use a public restroom, let alone have a place to sleep. Want to go back to your hometown? No citizenship means no public transport. And if you somehow made it back after twists and turns? You'd spend your life hiding from people's eyes. Get unlucky and caught? You'd end up as meat hanging in a butcher shop right there.
These people were alive but couldn't do anything. Living corpses, plain and simple.
"Telling people like that, 'We'll save you, set you free. Go find your freedom!'—it's meaningless."
"......"
"They know better than anyone they'd just starve to death on the streets anyway."
Moo-young ground his teeth at my blunt words. That despair of a life predetermined from birth, that helplessness no matter what you do—he could relate to it, at least in part.
"So, you have a plan for what to do with these people?"
"You bet. Simple, too."
To Bu-ne-tal's question, I gave a light reply as I brushed past him.
Public speaking wasn't my strong suit, but what choice did I have? Time to do it.
I took a deep breath, then stepped toward the huddled group.
"Ah, uh."
I muttered into the prepped megaphone, and a few heads turned my way.
Ears are working, at least.
Without hesitation, I cut straight to it.
"Hello, test subjects. I'm Kim Chang-un, the one who rescued you from the human experimentation site and brought you here."
"Hey, you crazy...!"
Maybe they weren't expecting such rudeness right off the bat. Calling them test subjects outright had every eye snapping to me.
Bu-ne-tal flailed in panic, but I ignored him and kept going.
"But as you know, you folks have nowhere left to fall in this land, right? No citizenship, no property, no hope for the future—it's all a distant dream for you. Am I right?"
By now, they'd look this way even if it was the bird. Sure enough, eyes filled with anxiety and resignation turned toward me.
Rotten dead-fish stares.
I slowly twisted my lips into a smirk.
"So... what should I do with you?"
Silence fell over the area at my follow-up.
"......What?"
Bu-ne-tal's voice dripped with disbelief. The crowd wore similar expressions—clearly not expecting this from their rescuer.
Whatever. I kept my eyes on them and pressed on.
"I pulled you out right before death row, didn't I? So why the funeral faces? What more do you want? Should I just keep you all and take care of you? Huh?"
"Hey, hey, Kim Chang-un! What the hell are you—!"
"Hold on a sec."
I waved off Bu-ne-tal's frantic interruption. This was all for their own good, like it or not.
"Wake up. You think I'd do all that nonsense for your sake?"
"......!"
"I rescued you because I needed to swap out the Pungyang Jo Clan's cargo, and I protected you during the operation because I didn't have time to dispose of you."
My near-mocking tone kept needling them, and dark resentment started stirring among the dead-eyed test subjects.
"So, why keep us alive now...?"
"Because it'd be a waste of bullets. What other reason would there be?"
At that, their gritted teeth and glares sharpened one by one—alive at last.
Good thing I kept them well-fed till now.
Seeing those fierce faces eased my mind a bit. At least it meant they still had some spark of anger left.
If I'd needled them this hard and they still had dead-fish stares... I'd have been seriously pissed.
"But lastly!"
Just as their resentment toward me was about to turn to outright rage, I scanned their faces one by one and brought out the real point I'd been holding back.
"Lastly, I'm here to tell you how you can live a 'new life.'"
"......What?"
"What did you say?"
A new life. The chance to live differently. The younger ones reacted first.
And at that moment—
Beep.
A buzzer sounded from the ultra-green communicator in my pocket. A transmission from my friend up north... no, his dad.
-It's Yu Sang-hyun. Repay the debt? I wondered what it was, but is that all?
"Yes. I think that's plenty for a fair trade."
-Ha, fine. I'll prepare as you said. But this means... I'll need a lot of change back.
"We'll discuss that then. Looking forward to it."
-Alright. Deal.
The short exchange ended. I signaled the agents waiting in the back.
Negotiation successful. Open the door.
Rumble—
The next moment, with a deep roar, the hatch of the massive cargo ship docked behind me slowly opened.
"Congratulations, everyone! Yu Sang-hyun, the Iron Tiger Commander of the Northeast Front, has expressed his intent to accept you all!"
"......!"
"Wh-what...!?"
The words "Northeast Front" sent shock rippling through the crowd.
"W-wait a minute?! Did you say Northeast Front?"
"Th-that's the front lines crawling with monsters, isn't it?! You're sending us there?!"
"Yes!"
My confident reply set them buzzing—disappointment, despair, even hopelessness emerging.
But only for a moment.
"Nowhere else issues citizenship to non-citizens."
My follow-up hushed the murmurs.
"The Northeast Front, home to Iron Tiger Army headquarters, is overrun with monsters everywhere, has poor infrastructure, and sees nonstop war every day. They lack manpower, so citizenship processing is simple, with virtually no central oversight."
Of course, that didn't mean droves went there for Joseon citizenship. They'd rather beg on city streets than die fighting monsters—that was reason one. Reason two: even if they somehow got citizenship, the "Northeast Front" label would stick forever.
But...
"Isn't it perfect for dead-end cases like you to start a new life?"
They backed away a few steps at the smile on my face.
"You're rootless non-citizens who'd die on the streets anyway—why not fight monsters with resolve to the death and carve out your own place instead?"
"......!"
"Wh-what...?"
The test subjects' reactions varied. Some raged about the injustice. Others trembled in terror at the Northeast Front.
"You said you protected us to silence us," said the old man I'd spoken to—the oldest among the test subjects. His face was stiff, but his voice was clearer than before.
"So the reason for sending us to the Northeast Front is..."
The answer was obvious. Realization darkened his expression.
"To erase evidence. Get us out of Hanseong?"
"Correct! Give the man a hand!"
Smarter than expected. I clapped into the air, but no response. Now it felt a bit awkward—should've prepared some prizes.
"Exactly. What I said wasn't a proposal—it was a notice. Like it or not, you're going to the Northeast Front. No right of refusal."
"Th-that's outrageous...!"
"Outrageous? Why not? Did anyone here choose to become a test subject?"
My immediate retort froze their faces. The mood grew murderous the more I spoke—almost fun now.
Have I said everything?
I mentally reviewed my words, checking for omissions.
"Oh, right."
One thing I'd forgotten. Before stepping down, I added one last line.
"Once you arrive in the Northeast Front, you'll be under the protection of the Iron Tiger Army—not the Joseon court."
"Iron Tiger... Army?"
A few faces changed at my offhand addition.
"At least powerhouses like the Pungyang Jo Clan won't touch you. That's one advantage, right?"
With that, I pointed to the ship's entrance leading to the Northeast Front.
"Departure in one hour. It might be delayed, so rest well until then."
Speech over. My job done.
I tossed the megaphone aside and hopped down. Bu-ne-tal, who'd been holding back, rushed over and grabbed my collar—even with his mask on, his expression was plain to see.
"You mad bastard! These people have been through every hardship, and you shove them like that—!"
"Gotta shove 'em. Or should I tell them to sit and wait to starve? Or have you hand out charity like to street beggars?"
I pointed at the gathered crowd, as if to say, just watch.
Wait here to die? Or fight desperately to see tomorrow?
Torment, fear, doubt—countless emotions endlessly whipped at them.
But only for a moment.
"Let's go."
One person's mutter started it. The slumped figures began to rise.
"Northeast Front... Northeast Front...! Fuck it, we're already screwed—let's go all the way!"
"Better than starving here a hundred times over! Right, everyone?"
"Let's go survive! Good days have to come eventually!"
"At least our kids... our kids can live proudly with citizenship!"
One by one, then another. They grabbed each other's hands, comforted those beside them, and steeled their resolve.
Those who'd lost family and status, merely awaiting death—they'd formed a tight-knit family through shared hardship in the containers.
By the time everyone on the pier had stood—
The eyes of the gathered ex-test subjects gleamed with a different light than before.
"Nice."
The people passed by me, boarding the ship to the Northeast Front. Rage at the bastard who made them this way. Stubborn determination to survive somehow. Or resentment toward the guy shipping them off.
Whatever it was, it was far better than those rotten dead-fish stares.