RE: Survival - Chapter 22

The executive glanced to his left and smirked as he asked one of his subordinates a question. The man stammered in response.

“W-What should we do?”

“Useless idiot.” The executive slapped the subordinate hard before turning to the man on his right, who held an M16 rifle.

“Kim Bu-jang.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Take five or six men and support the ones at the trash heap.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The rest of you, follow me. We’re going to the roof.”

The executive couldn’t fathom what his opponent’s plan was, but he remained confident. There were only two of them, and they had been disarmed.

Determined to make them regret not escaping immediately, the executive led his men hurriedly to the roof.

At the firmly shut rooftop metal door, the executive nodded at one of his subordinates armed with a rifle. Nervous, the man cautiously opened the door. The creak of the door gave way to the barren rooftop scenery.

No one was there.

“Executive, there’s no one here.”

A diversion tactic? Lowering his handgun, the executive surmised that the enemy had used the roof as bait to infiltrate the building below. However, he had already dispatched plenty of men to that area. The intruder was effectively in the palm of his hand.

Just then, a faint crackling noise came from the edge of the rooftop. A walkie-talkie sat there, emitting static.

The realization that he was being toyed with caused the executive’s face to flush red with anger. But he quickly calmed himself, taking deep breaths to steady his nerves. After a few moments, he signaled one of his men to investigate.

Leaving the executive and one subordinate behind, the rest of the group cautiously approached the walkie-talkie, scanning the surroundings as they moved. As expected, no one was there. One of the senior members stepped forward, picked up the walkie-talkie, and yelled into it.

“You bastard! When we catch you, you’re dead meat! Do you hear me?!”

Despite his outburst, the walkie-talkie remained silent, as if haunted.

*Click.*

The sound, sharp and chilling, came from behind. The subordinate’s eyes widened as he and the rest of the group turned their heads simultaneously.

There, perched atop the structure housing the rooftop antenna, was Yohan, holding a rifle with both hands and aiming directly at them.

The muzzle of Yohan’s gun flared red in an instant.

The executive tried to shout something as he sensed the impending death of his subordinates, but his actions felt agonizingly slow.

*Tat-tat-tat-tat!*

The deafening sound of gunfire filled the rooftop as the men dropped like dominos.

Yohan fired in controlled bursts, prioritizing targets armed with firearms. The man holding the rifle barely had time to raise it before he fell.

The executive scrambled back towards the building, firing his handgun wildly at Yohan. But a bullet grazed his shoulder, forcing him to crawl back inside, wailing in pain.

“Aaaagh!”

Yohan’s bullets tore through bodies, piercing brains and tearing through organs, leaving pools of blood in their wake. The men screamed and scattered in a futile attempt to avoid being shot, but Yohan’s calm, precise aim left no room for escape.

This wasn’t a battle; it was a hunt—or more aptly, a massacre.

Even amidst the agonized cries, Yohan’s rifle continued to spit fire. He briefly ducked behind the antenna to reload, giving the executive a moment to rally his men.

“The shooting’s stopped! Get inside, now!”

“Executive, we—Aaargh!”

The men who obeyed and rushed toward the exit became nothing more than targets walking into Yohan’s line of sight. The executive, watching his subordinates fall one by one, fled down the stairs with a devastated expression.

Yohan continued firing until no one was left standing. The once-gray rooftop was now painted a dark crimson, bodies trembling in death throes amidst pools of blood. The heat emanating from his rifle barrel shimmered faintly in the air.

After ensuring no survivors remained, Yohan jumped down lightly and inspected the staircase area. Blood trails led downwards—two of them had escaped but were gravely injured. They could be dealt with later.

Yohan walked among the scattered corpses, collecting an M16A1 rifle and slinging it diagonally across his body. Spotting his crossbow on one of the bodies, he retrieved it and strapped it onto his other shoulder, his load now heavy like a turtle’s shell.

“I’m not leaving any weapons behind.”

The gangsters were foolishly naive for their kind. They had yet to fully grasp the brutality of this world and moved exactly as Yohan had predicted.

Three hours earlier, after freeing himself, Yohan had returned to his shelter to retrieve a battle rifle. Using his carefully maintained motorcycle, he sped back to the department store.

The gang had likely assumed Yohan was here to rescue someone. This misjudgment led them to focus their forces on the rooftop, creating the perfect opportunity for him to strike.

His plan to split their forces and lure the critical ones into an easily targeted position had worked flawlessly.

The only downside was that the executive had survived. Yohan hadn’t expected someone leading such a group to be cowardly enough to send his men to their deaths while hiding himself.

With approximately thirty dead, Yohan felt it was a significant blow, even if he hadn’t managed to eliminate all of them. Still, he knew he had to deal with the executive eventually.

As he turned to leave, a faint groan reached his ears.

“Ugh… Spare me…”

A wounded survivor. The bullet had narrowly missed a vital point.

Yohan drove his knife into the man’s head and glanced over the rooftop’s edge. Outside, zombies were already gathering, drawn by the sound of gunfire. The gang was now trapped like rats.

Yohan anticipated an easy conclusion—until the wailing began.

*Aaaaaaargh!*

*Grrrrargh!*

The haunting howls of zombies echoed through the city, signaling the start of a zombie wave. One after another, the infected joined the chorus, their cries reverberating across the urban landscape, summoning hordes of the undead.

The roads were soon teeming with a sea of zombies, blackening the streets in every direction.

‘A zombie wave…’

The wailing was a harbinger of disaster, signaling the presence of a mutant among the undead. Mutants often drove the zombies into these frenzied waves, directing them toward specific targets.

Yohan scanned the surroundings desperately, searching for the mutant, but it remained hidden. It could be lurking out of sight or blending in with the horde.

The current wave’s target was painfully clear.

*H Department Store.*

The very building Yohan was in.

For the first time since returning to the past, Yohan felt his entire body tense. The sight of thousands of zombies converging on a single location was both horrifying and awe-inspiring.

Yohan realized that the department store had become the zombies’ focal point, but his thoughts turned to the supermarket. Over thirty survivors were still there, alongside nearly a hundred more in the department store.

If the wave reached the supermarket, it would be catastrophic.

‘Pray. That’s all I can do.’

Should the wave extend to the supermarket, there would be no way to save anyone.

Dismissing his concerns for the distant supermarket, Yohan focused on his immediate survival. He needed an escape route.

Scanning his surroundings, he identified eight exits in total. While the roads outside were packed with zombies, there had to be a gap he could exploit.

But there was still the matter of the executive. Yohan doubted the man’s chances of survival, given his injuries, but knew better than to underestimate someone so tenacious.

After quickly weighing his options, Yohan decided to check the likely locations the executive could be hiding. If he wasn’t there, Yohan would abandon the chase and focus on escaping.

—

Entering the building, Yohan saw the first floor overrun with zombies. The glass doors had shattered under their weight and pressure.

“Aaagh!”

Following the sound of a scream, Yohan looked toward the escalator descending to the basement. A small group of survivors had barricaded themselves near the food court, firing sporadically at the encroaching zombies.

The situation wasn’t promising. One of them was already being ripped apart by the undead, and as the group lost more members, panic spread. Those who broke formation to flee were quickly overwhelmed, their screams piercing the air.

Ignoring the chaos, Yohan followed the blood trail to the second floor, which led to the shopping mall. The once-heavy trail became sporadic as he progressed.

Eventually, he reached a pedestrian bridge swarmed with zombies—likely drawn there after the executive had passed through. Avoiding the commotion, Yohan headed to the third floor.

His destination was clear: the infirmary or the main office.

With no clear idea of the infirmary’s location, Yohan decided to check the main office first. Hearing the growing horde below, his pace quickened.