Chapter 144
Jae-ho made his way to Seokbinggo Station by following the Line 4 subway tracks. From there, once he got out to the surface and crossed the submerged section of Banpo Bridge, his destination was right ahead.
Walking alone in the subway felt more ominous than ever.
Unlike when several flashlights lit up the darkness, with only one, all he could do was barely light up his own feet.
A loneliness he hadn’t felt in a long time, and fear, quietly crept over his whole body. Jae-ho walked slowly and resolutely, holding a pistol with a silencer in one hand and a flashlight in the other, bracing the gun hand with the one holding the light.
He was grateful to Yohan, who had looked out for him until the end. He’d been given one of the few pistols with a silencer, nearly all the spare flashlight batteries, enough emergency rations, and plenty of extra ammo.
But no matter how well-prepared he was, if a Mutant Gollum showed up now, he was as good as dead.
Compared to the others, his combat ability was nothing.
Forget Mutants—even if just a handful of zombies showed up at once, he’d end up shooting until he was chased down and killed by the horde.
‘Please…’
Knowing that if an enemy he couldn’t handle appeared, there was no one left to protect him, he felt a tremor of fear spread through his whole body, not just his hands and feet. The light from his flashlight shook ever so slightly.
Thud.
‘Aaaagh!?’
Jae-ho flinched at the sensation of something catching his foot and stifled a scream. Quickly shining his flashlight, he let out a deep breath—it was just a stone.
Swallowing his sigh, he aimed the flashlight forward again. At that moment, he sucked in a sharp breath.
“……!”
A zombie stood right before him. Lifeless gray-white eyes glared at him, and a reeking mouth gaped wide in his direction.
“Aaah!”
Terrified, Jae-ho slashed out with his portable knife. Thud—the blade pierced the zombie’s eyeball, making it convulse. At the same time, Jae-ho lost his balance and fell backward.
Damn, damn.
A crushing tension gripped his whole body, as if disaster could strike at any moment in the pitch-black tunnel. What felt like an eternity passed, and at last, Jae-ho stood in front of the submerged Banpo Bridge.
Maybe because of how tense he’d been, or how much he’d been moving, he was sweating all over, even in the dead of winter.
The moment he stepped out of the subway’s gaping mouth, zombies poured out onto the street, swarming toward him.
His whole body tingled and prickled with goosebumps from the aura of death the corpses exuded.
Fighting that many zombies was impossible. He could only keep moving. They were slow, after all. As long as he didn’t get surrounded, he could shake them off.
Clutching his trembling legs, Jae-ho crossed Banpo Bridge. More and more zombies gathered behind him, soon forming a teeming crowd.
Then five zombies appeared ahead. Jae-ho holstered his Glock and gripped his short hunting knife.
He had to save his bullets for an emergency.
Jae-ho pressed forward. He smashed one zombie approaching from the front, immediately kicked the next one behind it, and squeezed through the gap.
Once out of danger, he switched from a fast walk to a full sprint. After about a hundred meters, he was out of breath.
Jae-ho stopped running. He’d put some distance between himself and the zombies—he needed to pace himself. If he exhausted himself, he wouldn’t survive when it mattered.
He alternated walking and running, putting as much space as possible between himself and the zombies. At last, he reached the end of the submerged bridge.
There he faced another group of zombies. Not as many as before, but still too many to count at a glance.
The groans of zombies came from all directions, closing in on him. His heart pounded like something was broken inside.
Biting his lip, Jae-ho moved to the edge of the bridge, drew his Glock, and kept walking. This time, there were too many for close combat.
Fifteen rounds in the magazine. Ignore the ones closing in from the sides—just shoot the ones ahead and push through. That was his only option.
Jae-ho tightened his grip and charged into the horde.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Each shot was a careful gamble with his life. As the zombies dropped, Jae-ho forced his way through their ranks.
One zombie managed to grab his arm, but he shook it off with all his strength. Outstretched hands and chattering jaws filled his vision. By the time he came to his senses, the way ahead was clear.
He didn’t know how he’d made it through, but he had.
Behind him, uncountable hordes of zombies surged in his direction.
More zombies popped out from every alley ahead.
Zombies, zombies, zombies!
It was truly a world of zombies.
This was no longer a place for the living. It was a world for zombies now, and the endless masses proved it as they gathered. Jae-ho could only run forward.
His breath burned all the way up his throat and his whole body felt feverish, as if he were already infected. His hot breath steamed the cold air like a dragon’s exhale.
The number of zombies following him only grew. He felt like the Pied Piper.
His legs threatened to give out, but he couldn’t stop. He had to keep walking faster and faster to widen the gap.
Near the National Library of Korea, Jae-ho ducked into a building, locked the door behind him, and slipped out through another entrance to lose the zombies. These were all survival techniques he’d learned from Yohan during their searches—how to judge if a building was safe, too.
Crossing through several buildings in a row, Jae-ho kept calm and pressed on, and at last, he arrived at his destination. The zombies that had been chasing him were nowhere to be seen.
Maybe they’d given up. What mattered was that he’d made it.
Inside the library, there were almost no zombies. Those that remained were in pieces and couldn’t even walk.
Jae-ho crushed the skull of a security guard zombie, its lower body severed as it crawled toward him.
At first, he’d thought, ‘Who would come to a library after the apocalypse?’ But he quickly changed his mind. The zombies here had gunshot wounds, and burn marks from explosions covered the area.
‘The military must have come through and wiped things out once.’
Broken glass, bloodstains, dead zombies, and bullet holes were everywhere. There had clearly been a fierce battle.
As a government-protected facility, the National Library of Korea had likely seen military action to safeguard it. Thanks to that, most of the zombies inside had already been cleared out—a stroke of luck for Jae-ho.
He gave a brief thanks to the soldiers who had fought for the sake of a future they’d never see, then slipped into the library.
‘The non-official publications archive…’
The building was dim except where sunlight streamed in. The unique smell of books mixed with the stench of blood, creating a strange, unpleasant odor.
Jae-ho broke down the door to the non-official archive and rummaged through the library, the rustle of pages echoing around him.
He was used to searching for documents with nothing but his own hands, but this time it truly felt like crossing a boundless ocean alone. There was simply too little information.
Inside the vast, dark library, with no bibliographic system or guides, searching for a single unofficial record was no ordinary task.
The interior of the library became cluttered with the books he tossed aside.
Despite all his effort, he found nothing, and his breath grew short.
‘At this rate, how long will it take?’
A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, trailing down his neck and shoulders. As the sweat cooled, a chill spread through his body.
He forced himself to move faster. The pile of books on the floor grew, and his stamina dwindled.
Finally, just as dusk settled and lazy darkness crept in outside the window, Jae-ho’s face brightened.
‘Found it.’
He carefully brushed the dust off the cover.
It looked like an old, bizarre magazine or ancient text.
Strange letters filled the cover, and only the cult’s symbol in the center seemed to prove it was real. This was the book that had once shocked him years ago.
Swallowing hard, Jae-ho slowly opened the book. Inside, it was filled with indecipherable writing and rough, inked illustrations.
People dressed like primitives danced in circles, while others bowed to an empty wooden chair surrounded by snakes.
Further on, he saw a sinister altar, ritual items like staffs, bone necklaces, and bone knives—objects drenched in religious symbolism.
Jae-ho’s page-turning grew faster.
His hand paused at one picture.
‘This is it…!’
Turning a blank page marking a new chapter, a drawing filled the next sheet: a snake’s head, a swollen body, a grotesquely gaping mouth. The Mutant Piccolo.
It matched exactly what Rina and Noah had described. Jae-ho’s hands trembled.
There were countless monsters drawn throughout the book. As he turned the pages, his pupils seemed about to burst. Mutant Gollum, David, Shark—every Mutant he’d seen or heard about was here.
This mysterious book was clearly connected to the apocalypse. It was an endless frustration that he couldn’t read the language.
Jae-ho’s hand finally reached the last page.
It was a single, full-page illustration.
A space that seemed either otherworldly or cosmic. In the center was a massive table, surrounded by countless beings.
The composition was reminiscent of Leonardo da Vinci’s ‘The Last Supper.’
Some had human forms, others were monsters with elongated mouths and noses. Some had wings like angels, or horns like demons. Some were just round, black shapes like dust balls.
The table was covered in dice and round chips like casino tokens, as if a wild game was taking place.
And at the center of the table was a round globe.
‘This is…’
How was he supposed to interpret this?
It was just a single illustration, but its impact was overwhelming. Jae-ho forgot to blink, staring in shock.
Countless thoughts and theories whirled in his mind, but not one could be spoken aloud.
The sort of theories that were probably better left unknown.
Jae-ho stared intently at the book as if he’d be sucked in.
‘What are you trying to say?’
That was his mistake.
So focused, he missed the zombie rushing at him.
Before he knew it, a zombie was right upon him, arms flailing as it attacked.
—
Time passed quickly.
The hundred or so Sindo residents moved as one. They worked through two nights to clear the zombies from Incheon’s logistics port, then used a tanker to refuel the warship.
They focused on compact, long-lasting foods.
“We can get salt from seawater, so we don’t need much seasoning. What’s that?” Yohan asked, pointing to the vinyl backpack Sweeper had brought.
“This? A casting net.”
He set down a giant fishing net.
“It’s illegal in Korea, but nothing beats it for effectiveness. I brought an extra-large one. In case we’re short on food wherever we settle.”
They had enough food. The problem was proportions. The amount that could be loaded on the ship was limited, so they had to pack the most durable, lightweight, and easy-to-cook foods.
The lack of a cargo ship was a huge regret.
In the end, they couldn’t find a cargo ship. The remaining ones were probably drifting at sea, full of refugees instead of cargo.
After the loading was finished, Yohan was briefed by the experts.
Preparations were complete. Still, a vague, inexplicable anxiety kept gnawing at him.
It felt like something was missing.
Was it really right to leave?
Wasn’t it safer, as Elder Yong said, to just move somewhere nearby?
Could he really risk the lives of hundreds on such uncertainty?
Moon Sung-chul’s last words circled in his mind.
‘Are you trying to show off how little you studied? Why would a nuclear plant explode?’
