RE: Survival - Chapter 28

With the battle winding down, Yohan replayed the fight in his mind. Severing the mutant’s arm just before close combat had been a stroke of luck. If the third attack had landed with the mutant unscathed, its long reach and powerful claws would have been nearly impossible to fend off.

Even for a relatively low-risk mutant, fighting one was still grueling. Gollum’s strength was somewhat mitigated by its preference for dark, narrow environments, which limited its combat effectiveness.

Yet even under those conditions, the battle had been taxing.

Yohan let out a faint sigh. Fighting mutants was something he wanted to avoid. Dealing with them was supposed to be the military’s job, not his. The thought that another mutant, perhaps the one that had obliterated the nearby military base, might still be out there sent a chill through him.

“Hey, are you alright? You’re covered in blood, like you just took a zombie shower,” Sweeper said.

“What about the zombies?”

“They’re all taken care of, at least the ones we could see. There weren’t too many.”

“And Hajin?”

Sweeper shrugged in response to Yohan’s question.

Could he have been taken down? Yohan strained to listen for any noise from the rear but heard nothing.

“Hey! Are you alive back there?” Sweeper called out. After a brief silence, Hajin’s voice came from the rear. His sweat-soaked body and blood-covered frame rivaled Yohan’s in disarray.

He had clearly fought hard, his swollen arms evidence of how much effort he had expended swinging his weapon. Though it was still too early to form true camaraderie, in this moment, Hajin was a reassuring presence.

“The rear is clear,” Hajin announced.

“Any bites or scratches?” Yohan asked.

Both men shook their heads. Yohan wanted to double-check, but getting to a brighter place was the first priority.

He exhaled deeply, a sigh of relief signaling the end of the encounter.

“Good. Well done.”

Yohan led the way forward.

It was time to move away from the zombies’ setup and prepare a little “song” for them in return.

—

“What was that weird creature?” Hajin asked as they walked through the tunnel. Having missed most of Yohan’s fight with the mutant, he seemed particularly curious.

“A mutant zombie. They’re the main reason the military and government collapsed,” Yohan replied, though Hajin already knew that much.

Changing the question, Hajin asked, “I thought zombies were caused by some kind of virus? Like, when you’re bitten or scratched, you turn into one.”

“Probably,” Yohan replied with a shrug.

“Then what’s with *that*? There’s no scientific explanation for something like that mutant. How does a creature like that even exist?”

Yohan chuckled at Hajin’s words. “Do zombies make scientific sense to you in the first place?”

“Well… no, but still.”

Not satisfied with the answer, Hajin’s voice grew quieter. Yohan elaborated, sensing his frustration.

“I don’t know what kind of answer you’re expecting from me, but I’m just as clueless. I don’t know where these damned zombies came from or why they exist. And as for mutants? I don’t have a clue how or why they were created either.”

In the three years and six months he had survived across his regression, there had been no clear answers. All he could do was endure each day.

“It could be the result of some secret corporation or government project gone wrong, a failed bioweapon. Or maybe it’s nature’s way of purging humanity for destroying the planet. Hell, it could even be part of some divine plan for the apocalypse, as foretold in the Bible. But what matters is…”

Yohan paused before continuing.

“Whatever the cause of this damned disaster, figuring out its origins and solutions isn’t our problem. That’s for the higher-ups to deal with—assuming any of them are even still alive. Our task is simply…”

The two men listened intently as Yohan’s words drew them in.

“To survive. To live. That’s it. Same as before the apocalypse.”

His words left the group in contemplative silence as they continued walking.

—

They eventually reached Sinjung-dong Station. Stopping at a nearby convenience store, they scavenged supplies and took a moment to rest. Yohan then addressed them.

“This looks like the end of our journey together. What do you two plan to do now?”

Sweeper was the first to answer. “I’ll just keep wandering on my own, like I’ve been doing. Not much else to it.”

“What about you, Hajin?” Yohan asked.

“I need to find a place to settle. Judging by the way you’re asking, you must have something in mind.”

Yohan nodded. “I’m inviting you to join my camp. Stick with me, and I’ll make sure you live longer than your luck would normally allow.”

Though Yohan’s tone was firm, neither man seemed offended. If anything, they likely already recognized the value of his leadership and the increased survival chances of working together.

The decision wasn’t difficult. In fact, having seen Yohan maintain his boundaries even during their time together, the offer was more surprising than anything else.

But Sweeper had one lingering question.

“Who the hell *are* you, anyway?”

“We never exchanged introductions?” Yohan replied.

“I’m not asking for your name. We’ve both survived in this hell for six months, and you’re clearly not an ordinary survivor. Don’t take me for a fool. Who *are* you? How do you know so much about zombies? And what’s your connection to all of this chaos?”

Sweeper’s question was sharp, but it wasn’t something Yohan was ready to answer. There was no reason to reveal his secrets to people he didn’t fully trust yet. Even if he did, there was no guarantee they’d believe him.

“Nothing worth sharing, and you probably wouldn’t believe me anyway. What if I told you I came back from the dead?” Yohan asked.

“What?”

“Or that I’m a divine apostle sent by God? Maybe a prophet who can see the future?”

“Those are…”

“What about a government agent from a bioweapons lab? Would that sound more believable?”

“Wait, really?”

“Of course not. Don’t be so gullible. I’m just an ordinary survivor who’s been through a lot in a short time. If you’re that curious about my story, join me. You’ll learn more than you want to know soon enough.”

Sweeper seemed to have made up his mind. Yohan turned from him to Hajin, who was still considering.

“What about you?”

“I’ll join,” Hajin answered without hesitation. He felt indebted to Yohan for saving his life and had already decided to stick with him unless cast out.

After giving his answer, Hajin followed up with a question. “What’s your plan? I doubt your goal is just to survive day by day like this.”

A-grade survivors, Yohan thought, impressed. Unlike most people, who were awed by his strength or decisions, these two were keen enough to think ahead and grasp the bigger picture.

Yohan answered Hajin’s question honestly. “I’m planning to build a widespread, decentralized organization.”

Hajin frowned, confused by the vague response. “Explain in simpler terms.”

“I’ll gather survivors and train them into specialists optimized for survival. Then I’ll establish multiple small camps throughout Bucheon, operating as a network. The organization will have three main goals: first, ensuring safety from zombies; second, creating a sustainable system for securing supplies and self-sufficiency; and third, building enough strength to defend against hostile groups.”

The plan was to form several small camps of around 20 people each, uniting them into a larger network. Ultimately, the goal was to create a massive shelter. Yohan estimated it would be effective for about two years before needing to pivot to a different plan he had in mind.

“Hostile groups? Like Goldmoon?” Hajin asked.

Yohan smirked derisively. “Those clowns don’t even qualify as a threat.”

Goldmoon was nothing more than a gang of third-rate thugs. While Yohan had clashed with them in the past, those encounters had only happened because of bad luck and circumstances—mainly due to a mutant and a zombie wave complicating things. On their own, they were hardly worth worrying about.

The real threats Yohan envisioned operated on a completely different level.

These dangerous groups didn’t resort to crude violence against survivors. Instead, they manipulated people into blind loyalty using religion or other means, driving their followers willingly to death. Others embedded violence so deeply into their community that it became second nature, channeling that aggression outward toward rival groups.

Some organizations created rigid hierarchies, where the promise of safety justified systematic exploitation and brutality. This cohesion turned them into formidable forces, capable of inflicting shock and terror on any opposition. Fighting such groups was inevitable but extremely challenging.

“You’ll encounter people worse than Goldmoon as you go. Inhuman scum that’ll make those thugs seem like local punks. For example… groups that hunt humans to eat their flesh.”

Yohan’s grim smile and added remark left both men speechless.

“Well then, I’ll take that as agreement from both of you. I’ll explain more about the camp as we go. But there’s one thing you should remember: from now on, you’re comrades. I’ll trust you to have my back. But if you betray that trust or sell out a teammate, I won’t hesitate to kill you. If you’re not okay with that, leave now.”

His tone was flat, almost casual, but the weight of his words sent a chill through them. It was clear he meant every word.

Neither chose to leave.

—

Yohan led the way, with Sweeper and Hajin following closely behind. They moved toward Bucheon City Hall Station. The roads were eerily quiet, almost too calm. It was as if every zombie had been drawn to the department store earlier. Not a single one crossed their path.

The immediate priority was to lure the zombies away from their camp.

The easiest way was through noise.

They selected a car near the station and decided its theft alarm would be enough to attract nearby zombies. The street was so silent that even a car alarm’s modest volume would suffice.

Crash! Yohan smashed the window of a foreign car with his rifle stock, setting off a loud, piercing alarm that echoed through the area. He then broke the windows of a few more cars before retreating into an alley with the others.

While it would have been ideal to draw the zombies farther away, doing so would require advanced sound equipment—something they didn’t have. For now, they had to settle for clearing out the zombies blocking their entrance.

As the zombies shuffled toward the noise, Yohan and the group slipped into the mart’s parking lot. The exit area was littered with zombie corpses, suggesting many had already swarmed here during the earlier wave. Yohan’s face darkened.

Piles of dead zombies surrounded the box truck parked nearby. Inside the truck, several zombies aimlessly stumbled around, unable to climb back out.

On top of the truck, a single zombie stood, its limbs half-devoured and immobile. It let out a mournful, guttural howl.

Yohan froze, staring at the zombie.

The face was unmistakable—it was someone he knew.