Chapter 6

　　When I stepped out of the cathedral, Jun was sobbing his heart out, buried in Yongcheol’s arms. And I was the one who saved him.

　　“Hng… hic… I’m s-sorry! I’m so, so sorry!” Jun cried, clinging to Yongcheol’s leg as tears streamed down his face. “I was wrong. The men made me do it; I had no choice. So, please, please, just let us live.”

　　“Jun.”

　　“I-I’ll never do it again, I swear! So please, don’t take my sister! She can’t even talk! She’ll die without me! Please!”

　　With that, he collapsed to the ground, his body wracked with sobs. When we stood there, stunned into silence, he dropped to his knees and began to beg.

　　“Please, please. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry… Please let us live…”

　　Even this brief glimpse was enough to imagine the horrors these two children had endured. It gave me a headache. I glanced at Yongcheol and saw he was openly crying. I placed my palm on Jun’s forehead, which was pressed to the dirt, and helped him up.

　　“Jun.”

　　“Yes, yes! I-I’m, s-sorr—”

　　“I’m hungry. If you’re not eating that, can I have it?”

　　“…What?”

　　At my words, Jun looked bewildered, then glanced down at the half-eaten chocolate bar in his breast pocket.

　　“Th-This?”

　　“Yeah, that. You’ll get much better food if you go with this guy anyway. So let me have it.”

　　Jun stared, puzzled, before handing me the chocolate bar. I took a bite of the candy, which had clearly melted and then frozen again, and grinned. Only then did a little color return to his face.

　　“You’re… you’re letting us live?”

　　“More than that. I’ll make sure you live well. Relatively speaking.”

　　“R-Really? You’re not… sending us somewhere else… or something?”

　　Seeing his anxiety, Yongcheol pulled something from his pocket: a Seoul Shelter residency permit.

　　“Don’t you worry about that. This guy here might not look like much, but he’s a big shot in the Seoul Shelter. You can trust me. Got it?”

　　He wasn’t wrong. As an information broker, Yongcheol was a big shot in his own right. Getting kids like Jun and Yeon registered in the shelter was nothing for him.

　　“Ha, haha…”

　　After checking the permit and looking back and forth between us, Jun finally burst out laughing. It was a hollow, empty sound, not a laugh you’d expect from a child.

　　“Yeon… he said we don’t have to die. He said it’s okay. They’re going to help us.”

　　Jun moved his hands in front of his sister. I wasn’t sure, but it looked like sign language. As if she understood, Yeon’s tears stopped. She lifted her head and, looking at me, smiled brightly. She made a fist with her left hand and circled her right hand over it. Yeah, yeah. Love you, too.

　　It’s infuriating that these kids tricked me, but…

　　They were threatened by the raiders; I couldn’t hold it against them. And I had no desire to interrogate them anyway.

　　I hope they live well.

　　I thought, watching Jun and Yeon cry and laugh together in Yongcheol’s arms. Then, suddenly, I thought of Woojoo. He was about their age when we were separated.

　　There was only one reason I showed kindness to children when I was too busy just trying to survive myself. My brother, Woojoo, might also be out there somewhere, surviving thanks to the kindness of a stranger. I had to believe that my goodwill might one day return to him. I had to.

　　I popped the rest of the chocolate bar into my mouth. It was incredibly sweet.

* * *

　　“Can we make it down the mountain now?” Yongcheol asked. He held Jun, whose eyes were swollen shut, and Yeon, who had cried herself to sleep, in his arms. He asked whether it was safe to reach the car now that it was night, when the Infected were most active.

　　I shrugged.

　　“We have to. If we stay here, we might run into the other raiders.”

　　“How? Think you can manage?”

　　Instead of answering, I attached the silencer to my rifle. It wouldn’t muffle the sound completely, but it was better than nothing.

　　“I’ll follow and provide cover. Don’t worry, just head down. As quietly as you can.”

　　“Ahyeon, you…”

　　Worried about making noise, I took off my boots, tied the laces, and slung them over my shoulder. I checked the half-full magazine and reloaded.

　　“What are you waiting for? Let’s go.”

　　At my words, Yongcheol hesitated, clutching the children tightly, before finally grinning and nodding.

　　“You really are one cool son of a bitch.”

　　He was just stating the obvious. I answered with another shrug, then looked up at the pitch-black sky.

　　The mountain at night was a perfect veil for the Infected. Dark trees concealed their presence, and the moonlight was too faint to even cast a shadow. The night now ruled this world, meaning all the Infected, blessed by the darkness, were prowling for prey.

　　Somewhere, I heard a rattling, gurgling sound, like phlegm being dredged from a dying throat. The hair on my arms stood on end. This mountain didn’t have that many Infected, and no hordes had formed, so it wasn’t an especially dangerous place. By military standards, it was a D-class zone. Still, I couldn’t let my guard down.

　　For one, I didn’t know how many Infected were hiding here. More importantly, it was night. I expected there would be plenty of them, their senses heightened and ready to charge at the slightest sound.

　　I gripped my rifle tighter. An Infected’s attack is unpredictable. Left with only the instinct to tear apart human flesh, they felt no pain. Even with their arms severed, their stomachs pierced, or their legs blown off, they would still charge, jaws snapping. Because they felt no pain, they didn’t feel their own muscles tearing.

　　Not only that, but their physical abilities were far superior to a human’s; they could run at least twice as fast. An unarmed person stood no chance.

　　But the story was different if that person was armed. Especially someone like me, who was confident in their marksmanship.

　　All I have to do is blow their heads off from a distance.

　　So, stay calm. Missed shots and misfires aren’t in my vocabulary. I’ve been through too much to be taken down by a few strays that aren’t even a horde or a wave.

　　Rustle. Yongcheol started slowly down the mountain, avoiding leaves and branches to keep quiet. Following behind him, I calmly tuned my ears to the surrounding noises. The sporadic, gurgling sounds of the Infected echoed around me, burrowing into my mind. I clenched my fists.

　　Then it happened.

　　Bang!

　　An unsuppressed gunshot rang out from somewhere nearby. Bang! Bang! Bang! The shots paused for a breath, but only for an instant. A burst of automatic fire shattered the mountain’s silence.

　　“Hey, hey. Wh-What is this? Someone else is here? The raiders?” Yongcheol asked, thoroughly panicked.

　　I shook my head.

　　“If it were the raiders, they wouldn’t be firing so recklessly. Even those bastards value their own lives.”

　　“Then who is it? Who’s fighting?”

　　“What am I, omniscient? I’m right here with you, how would I know?”

　　The gunfire continued unabated as we spoke. There should have been a brief pause to change magazines, but there was no gap in the sound. It didn’t sound like two people firing alternately, either. The pull of a trigger varies slightly depending on the shooter’s habits; it’s never perfectly uniform. If you listen closely, you can usually estimate how many people are firing.

　　And right now, it sounded like only one person.

　　Even if there weren’t many Infected on this mountain, there surely weren’t so few that a single person could handle them all, especially not while making this much noise. And this was the most advantageous time for the Infected.

　　Hmm. For some reason, the fighting style felt familiar, but I quickly shook my head. That’s impossible.

　　Muttering to myself, I spoke to Yongcheol again.

　　“Well, this just worked out for us. Looks like they drew all the attention. Every last Infected on our side of the mountain went over there.”

　　“Then… won’t that person be in danger?” Yongcheol asked.

　　He seemed to be suggesting we go help. I let out a hollow laugh. “Yongcheol. What did I tell you is the only situation where I help someone who isn’t a child?”

　　“…When you’ve been hired.”

　　“Exactly. I’m a mercenary, not a philanthropist. I don’t move unless I’m paid. So shut up and let’s go.”

　　Yongcheol’s lips parted as if he had more to say, but he quickly pressed them shut and quickened his pace. The continuous rattle of gunfire echoed behind us, but we ignored it and picked up our pace. By the time the shooting subsided and a relative quiet settled, we had safely reached the Jeep. We hadn’t encountered a single Infected on the way down. It seemed some nameless person had drawn them all away and taken care of them. I was very grateful. If they were alive, I’d thank them, but since I wasn’t sure they survived, I simply made a silent sign of the cross. May you rest in peace.

　　“Oh, man! Oh! My Jeep! You’re safe! You didn’t get looted!” Yongcheol cried out tearfully as he circled the vehicle, confirming it was unharmed.

　　I was so dumbfounded I couldn’t help but laugh. “You were worried about it getting looted when you left the electric fence on? Anyone who touched it would’ve been electrocuted on the spot. Who’s going to mess with this thing?”

　　“Still, of course, I was worried! Phew, what a relief. Now let’s get the kids in the back and…”

　　Yongcheol, fussing dramatically, reached to open the back door, then froze. His expression hardened, and he held his breath. I had been slinging my rifle over my shoulder, but a prickle of unease made me swing it forward again and slowly approach the Jeep. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

　　Yongcheol didn’t answer. He just flicked his eyes toward the passenger side. I aimed my rifle at the passenger seat and kicked the door. With a loud slam, the door rattled. A moment later, with a click, the door opened, and someone who had been lounging comfortably with the seat fully reclined emerged.

　　“…Ah, shit.”

　　I lowered my rifle, biting back a curse, but the man in the passenger seat didn’t seem to care in the slightest. He just smiled brightly at me. Dressed in an immaculate military uniform without a single crease, he looked as pristine as he had years ago. His large frame, which filled the Jeep’s passenger seat, was also the same. Extending his long legs out of the Jeep, he stood up, pulled off his leather gloves, and dusted them off before extending a hand toward me, all while flashing that characteristic mischievous grin of his.

　　“Min Ahyeon.”

　　His name was Shin Haejun. His defining trait: a dog that would carry out any order from the military. Nicknamed the “Military’s Dog.”

　　“Long time no see.”

　　For the record, I fucking hate this bastard.

* * *