Unfamiliar Family Love

The scanner didn't say a word about who he was. I'd never seen one do that.

"Well. That's new."

"No need to be surprised. I'll be able to leave headquarters."

He answered with the ease of a man who had expected exactly this. The alarm brought the guards at a run, and Jo Yong-han drew something out without hurrying. From the size, it was an ID. Not a character of text on it. No photograph, either.

A guard came close, produced a handheld scanner, and ran it over the card in question.

"Confirmed. What seems to be the matter, sir?"

"I don't have a radio on me at the moment, so I'll borrow one. A set of weapons as well, if you have it."

A lunatic demand. A fist to the face would have been ruled not guilty.

"Understood. You, recruit—bring the radio at the far right of the second row in the radio locker. The weapons will take a little time."

A shame. I didn't get to see a fist meet a face. A quick recruit handed over the radio first.

"Looks like I'm in for an interesting show."

"What did I tell you."

So that was what he'd meant earlier.

He really was a man who couldn't simply walk out.

"I'll get clearance for a moment. It won't take long."

Jo Yong-han switched the radio on at his leisure. The number 42 was written on it—the unique designation of the communications core mounted inside.

In the old era, they say, people laid networks and spoke through them with nothing like a core. That method doesn't work anymore. Build a network, and an air raid comes down without fail. Worse, the Giant Rods driven into the earth pour out jamming frequencies without pause, and their reach is enormous. Even at headquarters, a safe zone from bombardment, laying a network is pointless. Too many Giant Rods fell around the complex, and they smother every signal.

The thing that solves all of it is a communications core.

No separate network required, and a core's signal ignores the Rods' interference. What matters is that communication exists only between fragments split from a single core—like the 42 on this radio. Somewhere there had been a large communications core first assigned that number, and a shard of it had been seated in this set. It could speak only to gear carrying shards of that same No. 42 core.

You couldn't shave them too fine just to stamp out more equipment, either. As with every other core, size is the quantity of energy. Split them too small, and the gear's life becomes absurdly short.

"Yes. I'm stepping outside briefly. The time will be..."

He glanced at me. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠held up two fingers.

"I'll return within two hours. Yes, no need to worry. I've recruited a capable agent, and he'll be coming with me."

Talking about me, was he. Either way, I could roughly guess what sort of man he was now. When the call ended, we waited until the weapons arrived.

"Core No. 42—that's what the Future Technology Department uses, isn't it?"

"Correct. I meant to tell you eventually."

There is a reason you never casually announce it when you've gained a special core ability. The same reason no one steps forward to say they've watched an ability evolve with their own eyes.

The rumor that if you're too special, they take you and cut you open.

The Future Technology Department. A man who handled state secrets couldn't stroll out of headquarters whenever he liked. They were plugging leaks.

"One radio call and you can walk out? Looser than I thought."

"This is what they call recognizing one's record."

Time served sat better on the tongue. And hadn't this man been the type who lived by the rules?

"So you do know how to use a workaround, when you need one."

"There is no rule more important than family."

Fair enough. All along, he'd been thinking of getting his sisters out and settled at headquarters. Jo An-na was a civilian, and that was one thing—but Jo Shin-hye was plainly a deserter, and that should have been a problem. From the start, the dream he'd been nursing was legally compromised. He lived by principle, except where family was concerned. An oddly sweet performance, for him.

A set of arms arrived. A standard rifle, full-body armor, and a helmet. And yet the way he took up the gun was clumsy from the first grip.

"What's that look. It seems to be asking whether I even know how to shoot."

"If you noticed, then answer."

"Isn't it obvious? I know how to shoot."

Jo Yong-han demonstrated a thoroughly wrong firing stance with perfect confidence. Astonishingly shameless.

Yeah. That's enough.

A thick face is a trait that favors survival. Pretend you know what you don't. Pretend you can do what you can't. Better than hesitating until the chance is gone.

"Don't wear that armor. Wear this. Mine will serve you better."

From the six sets I carried, I picked the one that looked closest to his size.

"Selling body armor now? A pastime?"

"Just put it on. You won't regret it."

It had been heavy to haul around anyway, so this worked out. Hang a set on him and my hands would be lighter at once. If he bought it outright, better still.

"Hm. This is almost..."

"How is it?"

"As if it were made to my body exactly."

They were handmade, each one cut to measure. Lucky. I'd landed on the right one.

"Then let us go. Lead the way, Mr. Jungkook."

"Get that helmet on properly and follow me. Don't copy me just because I'm not wearing one."

Jo Yong-han set the helmet on his head and cinched the chin strap. His adjustment was so clumsy the thing sat visibly crooked.

"Kh."

"Hm? What's the matter? Is your stomach unwell?"

I wasn't swallowing nausea. I was swallowing a laugh.

"It's nothing. Let's go."

Out past the main gate, the automatic door shut behind us as it always did. There was a screening station in front of the gate as well, to stop anyone walking explosives in. Pass the last scanner, and only then could you say you were truly outside.

Since becoming a postman, this was the first time I'd come outside without a delivery. So the guidance voice changed. The threat to clean out my cabinet if I didn't come back soon was the same as ever, but the usual line wishing me a safe return was gone.

Jo Yong-han passed through the screening station after me.

Short, and thick. That was the entire voice guidance.

"Didn't that guidance just now seem wrong? Whether it's an error, or the content itself is different."

His tone made it plain he genuinely didn't know. He'd never had cause to come outside, so he wouldn't have learned that the main-gate scanner spoke differently by status.

"That thing's been broken for a while."

"Has it? I'll file a repair request when we return."

"Leave it. It won't do any good."

"What do you mean?"

"It isn't just one thing that's broken."

Even while we crossed the protected zone outside headquarters, Jo Yong-han said nothing. I liked that kind of silence. Not being pestered was pleasant, and it favored survival besides.

There was no sign to tell you where the protected zone ended. The zone itself had never been official. Giant Rods aimed at headquarters were intercepted by railgun, and their fall trajectories bent. Those rods, with nowhere left to go, drove into the earth a good distance out—and from there on, people said it wasn't the protected zone anymore. The name was only slang for the range where the Rods didn't fall.

And so people appeared who tried to live modestly inside it. That stirred trouble for security near headquarters, and soldiers came to patrol the zone. Thanks to them, it became a place without people, monsters, or zombies. It had, in the end, truly become protected.

"The wind is cool."

An open wind off the outside world, the kind you couldn't feel in headquarters, packed tight with buildings. I could understand the faint smile on his face. Once there had been cities on this land too. Now nearly all of them had fallen, and Jo Yong-han kept glancing about as if he were sightseeing the ruin. I didn't bother to answer. After that last remark, he went quiet again.

A little later, Jo An-na came into view in the distance, waving. The Physiognomist stopped her from running out. Worth having left her with him. Because of it, she only bounced in place, flailing both arms.

Jo Yong-han's face flushed. He looked at me with glistening eyes. I let out one deep sigh, then walked at a pace that was half a run.

"Oppa!"

The moment they met, brother and sister pulled each other close and traded how-are-yous. Behind them, Jo ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Shin-hye quietly wiped at her tears.

Watching a scene like this was deeply awkward for me. The grain of it was nothing like my life.

Family love...

I'd had the Old Man, once. That memory was too old now. Family love. It was unfamiliar. So I stood a little apart, and the Physiognomist came over.

"Heard the story, more or less! You're something else, little brother!"

"What did you hear?"

"That you're a lifesaver!"

"That's all?"

"That's plenty!"

He really had heard it roughly.

"Well! Anyway, my business is done, so I'm off!"

He meant he wanted his payment.

"One moment."

I didn't want to break up the reunion, but work was work. I set a hand on Jo Yong-han's shoulder, then looked at the Physiognomist and explained it so he'd understand.

"Ah. I see."

From the moment I'd first given the Physiognomist the job, this was how I'd meant to pay him. Jo Yong-han quickly passed him something, then threw his arms around Jo An-na again. A voucher, most likely, good only inside headquarters. Convenient, but limited in where you could spend it, and the money left a trail—so I didn't deal in them.

"Little brother, you've got sense!"

"I'll say thanks for this one."

"Aigo, why so long-winded? Just say thank you~ and you're done!"

"Thaaank you."

"There you go!"

The three siblings kept pouring out tears. Jo Shin-hye at least seemed to be fighting to stay composed, lips pressed shut even as they trembled. She had no idea two streams of snot were running down her face.

In the middle of it, Hocheol looked like a man with something to say. The Physiognomist caught my wrist first.

"You're not going back to headquarters? If you are, shall we go together?"

"I've still got a few things to see to. Go on ahead. It's the protected zone after a short walk anyway."

"Aigo! You think I'm doing this because I'm scared to walk alone? I'm doing it because you're my favorite little brother!"

Why was this old man being a nuisance again.

"Look at those people! Don't you feel anything, watching that hot family love?"

"Sharing a surname with you doesn't make us one family."

Come to think of it, I ought to tell him that Woo Jungkook was an alias and I wasn't a Woo at all. Was now the time, though.

"Aigo! You think I like you because of that?"

"You don't?"

The Physiognomist draped an arm across the back of my neck. He was, of course, a good deal shorter than me. He dragged me a little off from the group and launched into a speech.

"A surname is a curious thing. Don't you think?"

"Yes."

"Right! What part of it is curious?"

"You guess."

"If the surname's the same, you can tell you branched off one root!"

The infuriating thing about the Physiognomist was that no matter how lukewarm I was, he paid it no mind.

"Since the world ended, how much of the old world has been forgotten? So many records gone. So much lost craft!"

"Yes."

"But a surname is a living record in itself! So long as no one forgets their own name, you can know that you're someone's family!"

I grew curious all at once. So what, then, was this old man's own family.

"Isn't it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠amazing! You and I came from one root!"

"But by that logic, isn't everyone family? Go far enough back, and even people with different surnames all meet at one root—"

"That's exactly it!"

He slapped my forearm. It hurt.

"That's my little brother! You understand me perfectly!"

I didn't understand at all.

"Yes."

This was going to run long, so I decided to pretend I got it.

"Whenever things get hard, you come find me! We're one family, aren't we, little brother!"

Laughing, the Physiognomist headed for headquarters. My forearm still throbbed. He was more trained than I'd expected.

Once he was gone, Hocheol came over—the one who'd looked, from the start, like he had something to say.

"That middle-aged postman just now, sir."

Had he been talking nonsense while I was away?

"When we first met him, you called him Mr. Woo, sir."

"And?"

"It's... he seemed like an acquaintance of yours, so I'm hesitant to say this, but I don't think that man is someone you ought to trust, sir."

What was this, from Hocheol. He ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could read people after all.

"The truth is, while he was with us, he said he was a Jo, sir."

"Huh?"

"So I asked him, casual-like, whether he wasn't a Woo, and he said that was an alias, sir..."

In that instant I remembered the talk I'd had with the Physiognomist about the dead postman, Kim-ssi.

All the same blood. So that was what he'd meant. From the start, it hadn't mattered to the Physiognomist whose name belonged to whom. No need, then, to bother telling him I was using an alias myself.

Family love...

The tearful reunion went on for a long while after that. This wasn't a stretch of ground safe enough to stand around dazed. Still, I didn't have a decent excuse, so I decided to watch a little longer.

Time passed that way. Maybe because I'd watched so long, the unfamiliar feeling grew familiar by degrees. A mood I hadn't felt in a long time. Comfortable, if that was the word.

But the comfort broke soon enough.

From headquarters, an alarm shook the ground.