One Month Ago (1): Precision on the Waves
BANG—! WHOOSH—!
A massive gunshot echoed across the beach, immediately followed by the heavy roar of a bullet breaking the sound barrier as it sliced through the wind.
“Krrgh!”
Jinwoo squinted one eye and let out a soft groan. No matter how many times he heard it, the report from this .338 Lapua Magnum round was brutally savage. Even here on a beach where the crashing waves were already deafening.
Ting—!
Two seconds later, the buoy shuddered violently through his scope. The left corner struck by the bullet had exploded outward, and the leftover energy transformed completely into vibration.
Hit.
Jinwoo muttered quietly to himself as he worked the bolt to chamber the next round.
Clack—!
With a heavy metallic ring, the spent casing flew out and a fresh live round slid into place.
Even then, the buoy he had chosen as his target kept bobbing back and forth, left and right. It was the hour when the waves grew fierce, making its movements even more violent and unpredictable. At least for most people.
One, two…
Calculating the buoy’s sway and keeping rhythm, Jinwoo squeezed the trigger again.
BANG—! WHOOSH—!
Once more the Lapua round thundered like a cannon and streaked forward like lightning. Its velocity instantly surpassed nine hundred meters per second, and two seconds later another corner of the buoy blew apart as it rocked wildly. This time it was the right edge.
“Look at that son of a gun! He’s totally crazy!”
Chris, observing through a spotting scope from behind, muttered in open admiration. Jenny quickly translated.
“Look at that son of a gun! He’s totally crazy.”
“I can understand that much now, but it’s not exactly crazy…”
Jinwoo turned and answered.
“This rifle was built to hit targets at this range. Hey, Chris! This gun… um, long distance good!”
He gave the heavy stock of the PGM338 a light pat. He had tried to express himself in English, but it hadn’t come out smoothly. The word for “originally” had slipped his mind.
“Nah~. Not in this windy condition. And besides, the target is a mile away, floating on wild waves. I’ve never seen anything like this even in the Delta team. It’s more like magic.”
Chris shook his head firmly, arms crossed in clear disagreement. Jenny mirrored his posture as she translated.
“He says it’s not meant for hitting a target bobbing on rough waves more than a mile away on a windy day like this. Even in the Delta team, no one does this. He says it’s closer to magic.”
“It’s still not there yet. How should I put it… it doesn’t feel completely like an extension of my own body. It’s different from the K-2.”
Jinwoo replied indifferently. The interior of Big Island was safe and plentiful, but the moment they set foot on the mainland they would face endless zombies. Add in the threats from those insane warlords and the Taeyang Group’s private army, and no amount of training ever felt like enough.
“Well, thanks for the compliment. Thank you, Chris! I like this gun! I owe you, bro!”
Jinwoo thumped his own chest a few times then pointed at Chris. Every lesson—from how to use the rifle to long-range ballistic calculations—had come from that bearded former Delta Force sniper.
How much to adjust the scope’s baseline for distance, how to compensate for wind, even the priceless knowledge of three-dimensional team suppression tactics—Chris had shared it all without hesitation.
Thanks to him, Jinwoo had grown tremendously over the past few months. Of course, Chris genuinely enjoyed their shooting sessions too and drew plenty of inspiration from Jinwoo’s rapid fire.
“I owe you big time, bro! Your shooting made my heart beat again in this fucking apocalypse.”
Chris pointed back at him and flashed a thumbs-up. He meant every word. The first time he had watched Jinwoo shred six wooden posts at three hundred yards in just two seconds, it had been awe-inspiring. In that moment, Chris and his teammates had believed miracles still existed. It was far more direct, far more powerful proof than the fact that Terra was the Null Kid, and it lit a fire under them.
“He says your shooting skills make him feel alive again even in a world like this. So actually he feels like he’s the one who owes you. …Okay, enough with the bromance. It’s my turn to learn!”
Jenny, having translated Chris’s words, grabbed her own K-2. The fact that Jinwoo—whose English was still clumsy—had been able to exchange ideas constantly with Chris for months was entirely thanks to her fluent interpretation. In return, she had demanded private shooting lessons from him.
“Jenny, you really are diligent. It’s good to train hard, but I’m worried your hands will get ruined.”
Jinwoo spoke half in jest, half in genuine concern. Pink Punch’s Jenny! Her endlessly sexy image and rough, calloused hands simply did not match. Just hearing such rumors would make six hundred thousand Korean soldiers shed tears of blood. However…
“Failing to protect the person I love hurts far more than ruining the shape of my hands.”
Jenny declared her firm resolve as she tied her long brown hair back tightly with a rubber band. The sight was… truly beautiful. Especially that full chest and narrow waist—after months together, he still couldn’t get used to them.
“All right. Breathe in, hold it, finger on the trigger. Target one.”
Jinwoo stood close beside her and began the lesson. Target one was a wooden buoy floating roughly fifty meters offshore. The crude zombie drawing Yubin had spray-painted on it had mostly peeled away long ago, but its general outline was still visible.
“Head.”
At Jinwoo’s command, Jenny took a brief aim and fired.
BANG—! CRACK—!
Another hole appeared near the top of the board where the zombie’s head had been drawn, sending wood chips flying. Jinwoo immediately gave the next order.
“Head!”
BANG—!
Again, a bullet hole punched through almost the same spot.
“Not bad.”
It was clear her diligent practice over the past few months had paid off. Jinwoo figured her accuracy was already higher than most regular army trainees.
That didn’t mean she had become a legendary marksman or could handle dozens of zombies alone in the streets. That would be asking too much even of the special forces’ best.
“Okay, this time advance while aiming for the chest.”
When Jinwoo clapped sharply, Jenny took two quick steps forward and fired.
BANG—!
This round struck between head and chest. Confirming the miss, she immediately sent a second bullet downrange.
BANG—! THUD—!
Only then did it hit the chest area. After three advancing shots, Jinwoo applauded briefly to encourage her.
“Good. Well done!”
“Good shooting, Jenny!”
Chris poured on the praise as well, and even Samsuk-i watching from behind barked encouragingly, but Jenny still didn’t look satisfied.
“Huu… There’s still such a long way to go. And this is just a close target.”
Jenny lowered the muzzle and sighed lightly. The knowledge that she still couldn’t keep up clearly frustrated her. Jinwoo widened his eyes as if to ask what she was talking about.
“It’s only been three months since you started learning properly and you’re already this good! Think about Sheriff or Samsik. They can’t hit reliably even when shooting prone. Besides, in reality you’ll be shooting at close range—thirty to fifty meters—far more often than long distance.”
“But I can barely hit while taking one step forward. If it’s this hard to hit a single piece of wood floating calmly on the water, how do you kill zombies that are jumping around everywhere at once?”
Jenny secured the safety on her K-2 and looked back at him. At this rate she would never become a reliable asset. She never wanted to see the person she loved with his face covered in bruises again. Or the sight of him volunteering to act as bait at the risk of his own life…
Just remembering that moment brought fresh tears to her eyes. To protect something precious, you had to become stronger by exactly as much as it mattered to you.
“For situations like that, this is better.”
Jinwoo pointed at the FN P90 lying nearby. Short barrel, relatively light weight and recoil, fifty-round magazine. The different caliber was a drawback, but in close quarters it had many advantages. Jenny shook her head anyway.
“You said the K-2 is much easier to find. I’m practicing on the assumption that we won’t have ammunition to spare. Just teach me the tricks first.”
She really was a stubborn, hardworking girl. That was probably how she had endured brutal training and risen to the top of the Korean idol industry—the most extreme profession in the world. Jinwoo shrugged.
“The tricks are the same either way. First, check your stance and movement direction, decide the shooting order, then… you have to paint a picture in your head. Then you hit them in sequence. Here, imagine this.”
Jinwoo stood behind Jenny, gently holding her arm with his left hand as he explained.
“Targets one through four are all at roughly similar distances.”
He pointed at the four close-range buoys floating offshore. Though spread in a fan shape, from the firing position on shore the distances were nearly identical.
“Pretend they’re zombies. Number three is rushing at the front, followed by four, then one, then two. From this stance you’d fire first, then turn your body to the right like this, right?”
Jinwoo lightly held her hands on the rifle and showed her how to pivot without letting the muzzle waver.
“Yes! Yes!”
The diligent student nodded vigorously.
“No, don’t use too much force. Relax your waist and move smoothly, Jenny. And if you try to re-aim after turning, you’ll be too late. When your waist and arms rotate together and stop exactly, the muzzle should already be at firing height. Keep stability by shifting your right leg slightly, like this.”
Jinwoo continued the explanation from behind her, arms still wrapped around her.
“What’s the tip? What does he say?”
Chris kept asking from the side, hoping for some amazing secret technique. Sharp eyes watched the three of them from a distance.
“That bastard Jinwoo…”
Sheriff narrowed his eyes as he glared out the training room window.
“He can understand English perfectly now, but he keeps asking for translation anyway? So he can stay next to Jenny?”
“Hahaha, Sheriff’s throwing a tantrum. Aww, how childish! Sher-iff~ doesn’t like~ Jinwoo holding Jenny’s hand! Lalala!”
Samsik sang the teasing song with a bright smile, but Sheriff ignored him completely.
“I’m making a logical suspicion. What do you mean jealousy, you idiot!”
“Basic communication works somehow, but he says he needs Jenny for important or sensitive explanations.”
Yubin took Jinwoo’s side. Since he had worked through all of high school and never studied, solid English foundations would actually be more surprising. Sheriff raised his voice as if wronged, counting on his fingers.
“We could bring that guy Danny from the ship and ask him to translate! He speaks Korean pretty well! And… no, he’s been stuck to that Chris every single day for three months—why hasn’t he learned any English? By now he should understand even if it was French. It’s been a full three months!”
“Then what about you, Sheriff! You’ve been working out with Jim’s team for three months—what English do you know?”
Yubin shot back.
“Ugh…!”
Struck at his weak point, Sheriff groaned. It was true he had done weight training with the JL mercenaries… but during those sessions he hadn’t used many words. Mostly just shouting “Come on!” or “Two more!” while clapping.
“Can’t be helped. The only ones here who speak English are Jenny and Terra, and we can’t let Terra anywhere near the shooting range. Just talk and keep Terra company while Jinwoo practices. She seems bored too.”
Yubin patted Sheriff’s shoulder.
Alex would panic if Terra even approached the range. The enormous noise might cause her mental shock, he claimed. It seemed a bit excessive, but since the hope of all humanity rested on her, caution was understandable.
“But getting too close to Terra… I feel a little bad for Jenny. I’m even watching out in case she gets jealous.”
Sheriff’s face flushed as if the mere thought tickled him. Unable to watch any longer, Taekwondo Girl hopped off the treadmill and smacked him hard on the back.
“Jealous my ass! She doesn’t care about that stuff at all, you idiot!”
“Why’d you hit me! You crazy girl! Ow, that stings! Your hands are vicious!”
Sheriff frowned and reached behind himself. A back-smash from a national taekwondo athlete really burned. He tried to rub the spot but couldn’t quite reach it.
“Yeah, go ahead and play like that.”
Yubin left the two to bicker and stepped out of the training room.
“Where are you going?”
Samsik asked. Yubin pointed downward.
“To remind Alex again that we’re heading out tomorrow.”
It wasn’t about establishing hierarchy, but since Alex was ultimately in charge here, he needed to be kept informed. Yubin descended a floor, opened the door to the luxuriously decorated dining room, and called out.
“Terra.”
“Yes, Oppa.”
Terra, drinking tea with Gyuyeong, turned with a bright smile. There was always something about her pale beauty that made one’s chest tighten.
“Come with me to the radio room for a moment. I need to speak with Alex.”
Terra nodded willingly.
“Okay.”
“Ah, Yubin hyung! Learn some English! Stop using translation as an excuse to monopolize the noonas!”
Gyuyeong complained, clutching his digital camera. He was probably shooting photos for something like Fifteen-Year-Old Summer, Beauty, And Thus Survival. Whenever Pink Punch was involved, both Sheriff and this kid turned into fools.
“Sorry, sorry. Just bear with it today and I won’t bother you for a week.”
When Yubin raised his hand in apology, Gyuyeong’s face stiffened.
“Huh? A week? …Hyung, you’re going back to Seoul tomorrow?”
Yubin nodded calmly.
“Yeah. A deal has been arranged.”