The Fifth Expedition Begins

Taejeong Defense Industries.

A company that manufactured uniforms and tactical gear, it had been around for more than twenty years. Lately, though, it had been sliding into a genuine crisis.

"We're losing the bid?"

President Kim Taejeong was getting a hard lesson in what a reshuffled military personnel slate really meant. The connections he had spent two decades carefully building had evaporated overnight, and the new crop of officers had simply chosen another contractor. With work drying up in a single stroke, his company was hanging by a thread.

"We cooperated with national defense planning for twenty years!"

His eyes drifted to the full-body reinforced suit hanging on one wall of his office. It wasn't the kind of thing that let you fly around like in the movies, but it was built for extended operations and came with an integrated cooling system. The problem was simple: he had been cut loose before the thing was even finished.

A new business proposal just came in… but can it actually save this company?

That was why the offer that had arrived not long ago mattered so much. An unexpected proposal. And today, he was scheduled to meet the representative who had made it.

"Sir?"

His secretary called from outside, letting him know the business contact had finally arrived.

"Send him in. And bring some tea."

The door opened, and standing in front of Kim Taejeong was a man with a trained physique and an easy, open face.

Young, isn't he? Not that it matters. As long as the money's real.

Taejeong escorted his important client into the meeting room.

"Welcome."

"Hello. I'm Jin Dohyuk."

Something felt off to Kim Taejeong right away.

At a moment like this, don't people usually hand over a business card?

Any legitimate company would have cards. This man hadn't offered one. Which meant he wasn't representing a firm at all.

A con man? Did he deliberately target us because he knows we're in trouble?

Decades of experience sharpened the suspicion in his eyes—and then the man slid a single sheet of paper across the table.

"This is…"

"A project your company was already pursuing, President. I want to market it for civilian use—security firms, personal protection, that sort of thing."

"It does happen to be in our line of work. And we do have the technology."

But when Kim ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Taejeong looked over the business plan, he clicked his tongue.

This isn't even amateur work. It's worse.

The report was missing everything that mattered. Production costs and capital were one thing—but the sales channels, the actual path to market, were written in the vaguest possible terms.

His judgment was more or less correct. Jin Dohyuk had never planned to sell the suits at all. He wanted them purely so he could wear them himself. Of course the plan looked half-baked.

Dohyuk watched the president's face and waited for an answer.

"Mr. Jin. Suits like these are extremely expensive. Outside of military contracts, turning a profit is nearly impossible."

A polite refusal was already forming—until Dohyuk passed him another document.

"An investment plan… I'm sorry—two hundred billion won a year?"

"That's right. So don't worry about sales channels or any of that. I'll cover the costs. I'm making this offer because I trust Taejeong's technical capability."

Kim Taejeong sat stunned for a moment.

According to this plan, his company carried zero risk. The other side was bankrolling everything. The man might have no credit history worth mentioning, but if he was putting up real money, that changed the conversation entirely. Low risk. Pure and simple.

Is he actually going to fund this?

Kim Taejeong's last doubt was the money itself. Could a young man like this really put up that kind of capital?

"I'll start with an advance of about twenty billion won. Get to work immediately. What I need is exactly what's in the proposal—ballistic protection that stops live rounds, a cooling system that lets you operate even in brutal summer heat, and powered assist mechanisms so you can lift heavy loads with ease. You already have the tech. Give me a prototype within three months."

With that, the man made his request and left. Kim Taejeong wanted to shout for joy.

They're covering the funding, and what they want built is exactly what we were already planning to invest in!

A company thrashing in rough seas had just caught a perfect wind.

Then again… he could say all this and never actually send the money…

That worry died four days later, when the formal investment process genuinely began.

Right now, the transceiver was showing me the vast sky over Gangwon Province. Below it, a river stretched on without end.

A drone would have made things convenient—except for one very serious problem.

"Communications don't work, though."

The zombie world had no Wi-Fi and no way to stay in contact. No one left to maintain the infrastructure, after all. Real-time transmission was probably a lost cause.

Honestly, I had no idea how it would play out. Good thing I'd bought a simple recording drone as a backup.

Whether something like this would work in real time was still unknown. Worst-case scenario: use the recording drone for reconnaissance, review the footage myself, then move.

"For now, that's the best option."

It was the most basic approach—and in the zombie world, basic was best.

Next up…

"Keeping wireless communications from collapsing entirely…"

This wasn't about investment or throwing money around. The question was whether anything could survive in the zombie world at all—and that was harder than simply writing a check.

"…Thinking about it, from the base stations on up, this is basically impossible."

Routers, terminals, towers. If any single piece failed, the whole network died.

"Yeah. This one's going to be rough."

Given a worldwide zombie outbreak, communications were a luxury. Slow as it was, record-and-review was the right call.

And more than anything, I had come here for one other reason.

"What do you think? Nice water, right? Perfect for business."

A man with a bandit's thick beard approached from beside me. Who was he? Park Haram, of course—the guy running a pension business in the area. He also rented boats along the river, which made him extremely useful for my operation.

In a country as safe as Korea, was there anything harder than cleanly kidnapping someone? That was exactly why I was pouring money into this without restraint—for alibis and ease of movement.

The pleasures of the future world were pleasures, sure. But the real highlight of everything was Hyojin. I was going to pile every humiliation imaginable onto that bitch. No mercy the way I'd shown Woohee—starting from her ass, I would carve degradation into every inch of her body.

On top of that, our planted informant was peeling Melonia open layer by layer, revealing the group's true face. Bad blood. Internal factions. Information like that could prove useful later.

"Honestly, you didn't need to send me photos like these."

Our informant kept forwarding the group's unguarded shots anyway—not just cleavage, but outright underwear exposure, and sometimes worse. Every one of them was top-tier merchandise as women went, so pure desire stirred in me whether I wanted it to or not.

I recovered the drone and moved on to the next stage of preparation.

"Boss, then as promised, I'll just hop on whatever's here."

"Of course. Teach me how to handle a boat."

I had bought the entire property and leased it back to him. In other words, only the owner had changed. Everything else ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stayed the same—he simply ran the place.

Here, I started laying groundwork for the plan in advance. How long would it take by boat to reach the secret base?

This river was a tool I fully intended to use—confirmed by drone as a fast route straight to my secret hideout.

Riding a powerboat downriver was not, as it turned out, easy.

"Whoa—!"

Still wearing my life vest, I went straight into the water while the boat kept going without me.

"…Haa."

Disappointing, but one try was never going to be enough.

"Mr. Jin, are you all right?"

Park Haram pulled me out from behind, and we had to start over from the beginning.

Well. Time and money were the two things I had in abundance. Might as well learn it properly.

For two days straight, I stayed at the Gangwon pension drilling boat operation and local geography into my head.

And then came the real prize.

Illegal weapons that should never have existed on Korean soil were now in my hands.

Firearm control in this country is ruthlessly strict. There's a reason every gun has a serial number. There's a reason every bullet is stamped with where and when it was manufactured. The killing power is that high—and that easy to use.

Deep in a secluded mountain. This was where the secret rendezvous took place.

"Meeting in the mountains is a bit much. If I hadn't brought the agency escorts, I never would have come."

"If we get caught on CCTV, we're finished. As far as anyone knows, we're cheerful hikers out for a night trek."

And there in front of me, smiling, was Jang Weilin of Seonrin Private Investigations—the one man who had accepted the firearms request every other agency had refused and ignored. After more than a month of total silence, he had finally shown up with the spoils.

"We're just hikers who happened to run into each other. Have those agency guys turn around. If word leaks, we're both in trouble."

"Got it. Hey! Mind giving us some space for a minute? Private conversation—old friends catching up."

From the start, I had only asked the agency escorts for night-trail protection. I had never said a word about guns. And honestly, part of me still wondered whether this man might try to screw me over.

Just in case, I watched his hands carefully. Even if he had actually brought the guns, he could still pull them and demand the money at gunpoint.

This was an illegal deal. Reporting it to the police was out of the question. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Especially when the merchandise was firearms.

"Got these off the Japanese yakuza. They've been hurting for cash for years thanks to the organized crime exclusion ordinances."

"Pack them into the bag so nothing shows."

He handed me something wrapped in paper. Judging by the size, it was a weapon I had seen a thousand times—and one with excellent firepower in the zombie world.

"A handgun?"

"Yeah. You have no idea how hard it was to get even one of these. And one more."

This time a longer wooden case opened in front of me—longer than the pistol, at least. Short for a firearm, which made me curious, until I saw what was inside and understood immediately.

"A shotgun? Sawed-off, huh."

"Yeah. This one was easier. Hunting model. Pre-regulation stock, so it's used—but it's solid."

Two genuinely powerful weapons had successfully made it into my hands. A full hunting rifle would have been better for long range, but this was more than enough.

"Well? Feeling a little more trust now?"

"Perfect. All that's left is range practice."

"Honestly, better merchandise is scheduled to come in. We'll leave it here for now. That stuff costs more."

Jang Weilin grinned and drifted away. The deal was done—but better gear on the way?

"I really appreciate it."

That day's transaction ended deep in those quiet mountains.

And for the week that followed, I started a short but intense stretch of firearms practice. Compared to a rifle the effective range was limited, but against cold weapons there was no comparison at all.

Roughly three weeks of preparation came to an end, and I moved out to receive a new delivery.

Laid out before my eyes was a ballistic armor set in desert camouflage, ideal for blending into arid terrain. A next-generation ballistic armor package currently fielded by the U.S. military, fitted with load-assist mechanisms at the waist and legs to boost operational endurance.

The fifth expedition was about to begin.