Chapter 137
Singil Station — Mercenary Camp.
15 minutes before the clash with Yeouido Camp.
The old man was passing through Singil Station. He had claimed he wouldn’t take part in the fighting, only provide backup—but when he heard the brat had been captured, impatience got the better of him.
It had been a long time since he’d taken a liking to a brat. He couldn’t let him die so easily.
Forgetting he was supposed to be backup, the old man began preparing for a full assault.
“Bring it here, boys.”
At his command, two men rolled up a cart carrying a machine gun. It was one they’d seized during a fight with a Seoul Survival Union squad leader, now mounted on a small cart and repurposed as a mobile weapon.
The old man ran his hands over it like caressing a lover, then gave a satisfied nod and ordered the move out.
The mercenary unit left the train at Noryangjin after passing through Line 1 from Singil Station.
—Platform’s clear.
“Good. Move out. Head for Line 9.”
Following orders, they exited the train and crossed the overpass to enter the Line 9 station.
Zombies lurking outside closed in, but the mercs swiftly took care of them, while the old man strolled leisurely down the street like he was out for a walk.
“Cheol-gu.”
“Yes, old man.”
“Go ahead and take out anyone blocking the way.”
“Yes, sir.”
Cheol-gu confidently led the way, weaving through the train like a shadow with his subordinates. The main unit followed three minutes behind.
—Two hostiles down up ahead. Lots of sentries, old man.
“Cheol-gu.”
—Yes, sir?
“Did I ever teach you to whine?”
—…No, sir.
“Then shut it and cut some throats.”
—Yes, sir.
With that short reply, a crossbow bolt whizzed through the air and struck both guards in the neck simultaneously.
The pair made gurgling noises and collapsed.
Cheol-gu then rapidly hunted down the remaining sentries hiding in corners, dispatching them like a ghost.
It was the kind of performance expected of the ace of the mercenary camp.
When he returned, the old man patted him on the head like a proud grandpa.
Cheol-gu looked as pleased as a puppy being praised by its master—or a son by his father.
“Rookies, two to each entrance. Block the zombies. Second unit, watch the turnstiles and catch anyone trying to run. Cheol-gu and the elites are coming with me for cleanup.”
“Yes, sir.”
Gap-soo answered on behalf of the rookies, and two of them picked up the cart. Cheol-gu, standing by the old man’s side, swapped out his magazine and readied himself. The old man turned up the volume on his radio. Just then, the brat’s voice came through.
—Old man, are you ready?
“Ready and waiting, brat.”
—Roger. Let’s start.
“So I just go wild on anything I see? What about the brat?”
—We’ll secure the commander. You go nuts.
“Good. The way you talk, you’re just like your boss. I like it.”
The long-haired brat had made the call. Soon, the diversion at the front would begin.
“All right. Time to stretch out a bit.”
Gunfire erupted. With attention now drawn to the other side, the station was a chaotic war zone.
The old man headed toward the noise.
—Old man, lots of enemies down below. Looks like the main force.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
At the end of the transfer corridor from Line 9 to Line 1, they spotted survivors scrambling in panic below the stairs. Cheol-gu turned and sprayed the distracted guards with automatic fire.
While he provided cover, two others dropped the machine-gun cart into place.
“There! Over there!”
Realizing too late that their guards were down, the survivors turned their weapons—
but the old man was already on the cart, sleeves rolled up.
Ratatatat! Drrrrrr!
With thunderous recoil, the machine gun spat bullets like a fountain. People fell like paper dolls. Shells clattered to the ground as lead tore through the crowd.
Bang bang! Ratatat!
A few sharp ones tried to return fire—but they were still outmatched.
“Not bad.”
Most would have broken under this kind of pressure. Yet some survivors from Yeouido Camp held their ground and fired back. One of the mercs took a hit and went down.
A few stray bullets zipped past the old man, but he didn’t flinch. He kept the trigger rotating, emptying his magazine without pause.
As the battle turned one-sided, a strange-sounding shot rang out amid the cacophony. At that moment, Baek-gu, stationed at the very front, collapsed from a mysterious bullet. Cheol-gu’s eyes flared as he whipped around.
The bullet was embedded in the floor—fired from above.
His eyes scanned quickly. A sniper was chambering another round on top of a breaker box.
Cheol-gu shouted through the gunfire, his voice sharp and loud.
“Sniper! Right side, upper breaker box!”
At his call, the old man swung his gun up and lit up the box without hesitation. No need to aim—just cover it in hellfire.
Even from directions the old man wasn’t aiming, bullets poured like rain, sweeping over corpses two and three times.
“Phew.”
Having emptied his mag, the old man wiped the sweat from his brow. All that remained were smoke, twitching bodies, corpses, and blood everywhere.
“That it?”
With the chaos subsiding, Cheol-gu and the elite squad swept through the station, flushing out the last survivors hiding in corners. Screams echoed in pockets across the area.
Stepping over torn flesh and pools of blood, the old man made his way toward Sweeper’s group, who were loitering in front of some café across the way.
“What are you doing?”
“Ah, our boss isn’t done with his talk yet.”
“What kind of talk takes this long?”
Before anyone could stop him, the old man kicked open the door.
Inside, there was a corpse with a bullet hole in its forehead, and Noah and Yohan speaking calmly—seemingly unfazed by the body between them. If not for the gun Yohan had aimed at Noah, it might have looked like a casual chat.
The old man blinked in disbelief.
“What the—? I thought you were captured?”
“Ah, you’re here.”
“‘You’re here’? You damn brat…”
At the old man’s grumbling, Yohan smiled in amusement. It was obvious to anyone that he’d rushed in, dead-set on rescuing Yohan.
“We’re not quite finished. Could you give us a moment to wrap things up?”
“Fine.”
“Wait. What about casualties?”
“None of them made it out alive. We lost one of ours. A sniper. Real good shot.”
“My condolences.”
“You used us as a damn shield again, didn’t you? You cheeky little brat.”
As the old man muttered, Yohan shook his head. He genuinely regarded the mercenaries as vital allies, and their loss was never intentional.
Perhaps the old man was just venting, because he didn’t push it further. Instead, he glared fiercely at Noah—the root of this entire mess.
“What are you gonna do with this bastard? Why let him live?”
“I want to talk to him some more. Sweeper, restrain him.”
“Tch, what’s there to talk about? Just slice his damn neck.”
As Sweeper tied Noah’s hands and disarmed him, Yohan turned to the old man.
“By the way, sir.”
“What.”
“I have something to tell you.”
Yohan relayed the intel he had received from Noah—that Camp Chunhyang had sold them out. The old man stared in stunned silence, as if he’d been struck.
“Are you serious? Chunhyang Mom, of all people…”
Yohan could understand his reaction. Camp Chunhyang had always seemed warm and kind. It was built around a beloved child and the image of a group protecting her. This kind of betrayal was bound to hit hard.
As the two men fell silent, their thoughts mired in disbelief, Noah’s calm voice broke in.
“How many of you are there?”
“Sixteen, including me. Fifteen now. Plus fifteen from the mercenary unit.”
“That’s a lot.”
“What?”
“That’s way more than the list Camp Chunhyang gave us. Over twice as much.”
Yohan and the old man exchanged another loaded glance.
The picture was clear.
She had betrayed all three major camps at once.
Why?
Yohan and the old man spoke in unison.
“That fucking bitch!”
“You’d better get back to Bupyeong City Hall.”
She had orchestrated a collision between the three strongest nearby powers. There was no way this was coincidence.
It was planned.
And the only thing she’d be aiming for…
Bupyeong City Hall’s main mercenary force.
And the vast stores of supplies housed within.
“I’m heading back first. Handle the rest.”
“Yes. Take care out there.”
The old man clicked his tongue and stormed out. Loud crashing noises followed—he was clearly venting his rage on whatever was nearby.
Yohan’s face wasn’t any brighter. There were genuinely kind and upright people in Bupyeong City Hall. The idea that someone like Jung-mi might die because of his carelessness—it was unbearable.
“Our people got wiped out… and you lost just one?”
After the old man left, Noah sat in stunned silence, finally speaking in a hollow voice.
“Told you.”
“Yeah. They really are strong—your team.”
Yohan raised an eyebrow. That wasn’t the reaction he’d expected.
There was no sorrow, no grief—just a calm, vaguely empty look. Yohan remembered vividly how Noah had looked when losing comrades before, and this felt off.
Ignoring Yohan’s puzzled gaze, Noah continued.
“So what will you do with me now?”
“Whatever you want. I can kill you painlessly. Or, if you’re willing, you can start over and join the camp.”
“You think I’d feel safe being welcomed into your camp after you killed all my men?”
“Probably not. But if you want to come, you can. It won’t be easy fitting in at first—but eventually, you’ll come to like them. Losing comrades and finding new ones—it’s not that unusual in a world like this.”
“You call that persuasion? You sure have a lousy way of making someone feel welcome.”
Noah sighed and extended his tied hands.
“I tried so damn hard, but this is how it ends. Feels pointless.”
Yohan silently watched him. Noah took a few deep breaths, then rubbed his face hard with both bound hands.
“Actually, I feel… a little relieved.”
“…?”
“After the Gae Baekjong died, I gathered as many camps as I could to stop another Seoul Survival Union from rising. That included people like Moon Sung-chul and Kim Jun—hot-headed, uncontrollable types who loved playing politics.”
Yohan said nothing, just listened.
“This wasn’t what I wanted. I never wanted a camp like this. One that kept growing mindlessly, killing intruders, and forcing survivors to join. But at some point, it got away from me. I didn’t even want this fight—especially not against you, the ones who killed the Gae Baekjong.”
Then, Noah said something truly unexpected—shocking, even.
“That’s why I kept the ones who still followed my orders out of the fight. Everyone except Jae-won, who’d been corrupted by the hardliners.”
“You mean…”
“I’m here now because I had to fulfill my role as leader. But my real comrades—the ones who’ve been with me since the beginning—they’re all in Mapo. Everyone except Seung-hee and Sun-hwa, who were killed by the Gae Baekjong.”
