RE: Survival - Chapter 31

Yohan’s face lit up. He was a seasoned farmer who had spent his youth and adulthood in the countryside before moving to the city with his family. He mentioned that he had always maintained a rooftop garden even on the house he used to live in.

The supermarket rooftop was quite spacious. If the entire rooftop were turned into a garden, it could yield a substantial amount of food, such as potatoes or corn. As Yohan’s face brightened, Jung-hwan chimed in excitedly.

“We might be able to get gardening soil mixed with fertilizer. My company once grew sweet potatoes as part of a club activity, and we bought soil from a nearby place.”

“Can you tell me the exact location?”

When Yohan pulled out a map, Jung-hwan pointed to a spot, saying it should be around there. It wasn’t far. They decided to stop by on their way back.

“Make sure to bring the fertilizer and soil separately. The ratio differs depending on the crop.”

“Understood.”

“Next thing we know, we might be building a ranch in the parking lot.”

Old Man Park joked, but Yohan felt as if he had been struck by an idea.

The parking lot was, after all, an underutilized dead space. Despite being a parking lot, it was on the ground level and received plenty of sunlight.

If they could secure some livestock and clear out the cars, the old man’s words weren’t entirely implausible.

Of course, securing livestock was another problem, but the immediate challenge was clearing the vehicles from the parking lot. While they could smash windows and release the hand brakes to push the cars out, dealing with steering locks posed a significant obstacle.

A car mechanic named Ki-moon came to mind. Vehicle maintenance was an invaluable skill, and his absence was sorely felt.

As they brainstormed, Jung-hwan offered a suggestion.

“There’s a forklift in the loading dock. Maybe we could use that to make some space? It might help with lighter vehicles.”

“Let’s think about that later. For now, since we’re short on hands, just focus on helping the old man prepare the rooftop garden.”

At Yohan’s request, Jung-hwan nodded energetically, his face full of determination.

He looked dependable.

Before setting out, Yohan surveyed the combat team from the camp that had come to see them off. Aside from Jung-hwan, most were individuals who usually handled cleaning and other menial tasks—not exactly an inspiring force.

At the very least, these people needed to reach Jung-hwan’s level of combat readiness soon.

To Yohan, the supermarket was the core of the camp’s united organization. They would secure more supplies than any other survivors and turn the supply camp into the lifeline of the alliance.

Because of that, the supermarket camp needed to attract top professionals and combat personnel.

As the core of the camp alliance and a supply depot, there was no room for amateurs. Those who couldn’t grow would be sent to other camps, whether they liked it or not.

This time, the scouting team planned to head toward a hospital. It was farther than their usual destinations, like department stores or convenience stores across the intersection, requiring more preparation.

Not for Yohan, of course, but for some team members unfamiliar with the area.

Yohan handed two of the four walkie-talkies to Jung-hwan.

“Give one to the parking lot guard and keep one with you at all times. If anything happens, call immediately.”

“Got it, hyung. But about Seri…”

“What about her?”

“Wouldn’t it be better to leave Seri behind?”

“What can I do? She insisted on coming.”

“But still…”

“Don’t worry too much. She might look like that, but she’s at least worth 3 people.”

Jung-hwan’s expression remained unconvinced, which suggested how close they had grown. Even after Yohan’s reassurance, his face didn’t relax, prompting Yohan to console him further before radioing the Sweeper.

“Sweeper, if you’re ready, come down.”

“Roger that.”

Soon, three people descended. Sweeper and Hajin were dressed in black leather outfits scavenged from the department store, complete with hand guards, looking nearly identical to Yohan. Seri, on the other hand, wore a tight leather suit, baseball cap, sunglasses, mask, and hand guards.

Her outfit was so striking that Yohan was momentarily dumbfounded. He couldn’t fathom why her attire had to be so provocative.

“Airport celebrity fashion?”

“Hehe, it’s been so long since I went out. Don’t I look pretty?”

Seri slid her sunglasses up onto her forehead and flashed a coquettish smile. Yohan’s head throbbed.

“If you ditch the sunglasses, I won’t throw you out.”

“Hmph.”

Making a noise like a disgruntled foal, Seri tossed the sunglasses aside. Yohan surveyed the three and asked.

“What about the gear?”

“We’re using Type B.”

“I have Type C. I made sure at least one person carries it.”

“Good.”

Hajin and Sweeper carried Type B gear, while Seri carried Type C.

The hospital was 800 meters away, a 15-minute walk. Even if they encountered zombies along the way, it would take no more than 30 minutes. Type B gear, optimized for combat and scouting, was lighter and more appropriate than the Type A gear designed for long-term survival.

Additionally, one person always carried Type C gear, focused on food supplies, to prepare for any survivors they might encounter.

Yohan double-checked the ammunition he packed separately. They had two firearms: a revolver and a rifle, with spare ammo primarily for the rifle. He also stared briefly at the slingshot Seo-jun had made before tucking it into his backpack.

Before setting off, Yohan briefed the group atop a van in the parking lot. Jung-hwan participated as the representative from the camp.

“As I said, our primary objective is securing supplies. The secondary goal is checking for survivors and forming alliances.”

“Do you think forming alliances will be easy? Survivors will be full of distrust,” Sweeper pointed out sharply.

“We’ll have to endure some sacrifices until a sense of belonging and trust builds.”

“Sacrifices? What kind?”

“We’ll distribute supplies. Regularly.”

“What?”

The group frowned. Someone grumbled about working hard only to give everything away, prompting Yohan to nod.

“We’ll use the supply distribution and the promise of protection to attract talent to our camp—whether they’re fighters or technicians.

Yohan proceeded to elaborate on the detailed strategy.

“Our goal is to establish at least ten camps in this region. Each camp will house a maximum of twenty people. The supermarket camp will act as the supply depot for the other survivor settlements. Meanwhile, we’ll continually recruit skilled individuals from each camp to expand the size of the scouting team. The scouting team won’t belong to any specific camp; instead, they’ll move around, managing camps, gathering supplies, and providing reinforcements in emergencies.”

“Sounds like a cushy position, but it’s actually set up for a hell of a workload,” Sweeper muttered. Hajin, listening quietly, zeroed in on the core of the plan.

“So, the structure is to provide resources and safety in exchange for talent and cooperation?”

“Exactly. These camps will come together to form one large shelter.”

“But the connection between the camps seems pretty weak.”

“We’ll mix people between camps frequently. Over time, the bonds will grow stronger.”

“Hmm…”

The scouting team was destined to become the backbone of this organization. However, the supermarket itself would still need to fill its roster with twenty survivors. Yohan had considered using his secluded villa complex in Gachiwool as the exclusive camp for the scouting team, providing them with a better environment and higher satisfaction. But he chose not to reveal this idea yet.

The villa complex was his ultimate fallback position, and it wasn’t the right time to disclose it.

After the broad overview, Yohan moved on to a more detailed briefing. This included the route to the hospital, protocols for interacting with survivors, what to do if none were found, crisis response strategies, and hand signals for communication.

“This is impressively thorough,” Hajin remarked, honestly impressed. It was hard to believe such meticulous planning had been done in such a short time. To him, Yohan resembled a highly trained special forces operative.

“Memorize the hand signals quickly. If you mess around during combat, you’ll be immediately removed from the scouting team,” Yohan warned.

While Seri seemed unfazed, both Hajin and Sweeper could sense it. If Yohan’s plans succeeded, the scouting team, holding immense authority, would become the heart of the organization. Even though it was still in its infancy, the blueprint alone was daunting.

The scouting team’s departure was smooth. The group advanced steadily, killing zombies at a controlled pace. The zombies, endlessly appearing with their drooling jaws, posed no threat to the team.

On the left flank, Seri efficiently smashed the head of a zombie with agile footwork. She seemed to be in high spirits, prompting a scolding from Yohan.

“Stay focused.”

“Ah, sorry, oppa. I’m just excited—it’s been a while since we’ve gone out.”

Seri cheerfully responded, stepping toward an approaching zombie. Her lively movements obscured her view, preventing her from noticing the oil-slicked ground beneath her feet.

With a muffled shriek, she slipped. A zombie immediately pounced on her, emitting a ghastly wail as its jaws snapped hungrily. Seri raised her hand guards in a desperate attempt to fend it off, but the weight pressed down on her, draining her strength.

At that moment, a dagger flew through the air with a sharp *whoosh*, piercing the zombie’s head. It clattered its teeth obliviously before collapsing onto Seri, dripping dark, coagulated blood onto her face.

Sweeper retrieved the dagger and helped Seri up. She gave a brief word of thanks.

“If you cause another problem, you’re out of the scouting team and back to the camp. No slacking off,” Yohan said coldly.

Seri bit her lip and nodded, chastened. Even if she couldn’t contribute much, she couldn’t afford to be a burden. She had been too careless.

“Wait.”

Yohan’s command stopped the group in their tracks. Seri had slipped near a gas station, about 50 meters away.

As Yohan stared at the oil trail on the ground, Sweeper seized the moment to light a cigarette. Seri grimaced.

“Can you put that out? Secondhand smoke is a no-no. Respect my right to a smoke-free environment.”

“If you hate secondhand smoke, you can try firsthand. Miss.”

“Ugh, what a lame joke. Respect my right to hate dad jokes, too.”

As the two bickered, Hajin approached Yohan.

“Do you notice something strange?”

“This oil—it didn’t spill naturally.”

The oil on the ground wasn’t a random leak from a vehicle. The amount was unnatural, and the pooling pattern suggested it had been deliberately poured from above.

“It looks like someone extracted fuel from that tanker over there and spilled some while manually refueling here.”

“And why does that matter?”

“I can’t say for sure, but it doesn’t seem like it’s been there for long.”

This meant someone had been nearby recently. Hajin’s expression turned serious as he scanned the surroundings, but there was no sign of anyone. Sweeper, listening to the conversation, pulled out binoculars to survey the area.

“Nothing in sight.”

“No need to panic. If they were refueling, they were likely planning to travel a long distance.”

Still, one question lingered.

The roads were all but impassable.

The only viable vehicles for navigating the current conditions were motorcycles. While a lone survivor seemed the most likely scenario, the possibility of a group couldn’t be ruled out.

Yohan filed away the possibilities in his mind and resumed movement.

Out here, the unpredictable loomed around every corner. Yohan’s instincts sharpened, ready to face any unexpected threats or challenges.