Chapter 50

The arrival of Corporal Ong, the youngest and seemingly inexperienced member of the reconnaissance team, sparked playful mischief among the team members. Seri and Sweeper teased him by mimicking the sound “Ong Ong,” leaving Corporal Ong’s face flushed a deep red. It was hard to tell whether they were welcoming him or just poking fun.

“Enough messing around. Let’s get moving. Lieutenant, thank you for your help,” Yohan said.

“Wait.”

“Hm?”

Yohan turned back as Lieutenant Ahn, hesitating, called out to him.

“I forgot to thank you. I apologize for the delay.”

Yohan simply smiled in response.

The reconnaissance team and Mr. Kim set off, taking a large transport truck, moving from Jung-dong to Kachiwool.

This trip wasn’t to establish a camp at the shelter in Kachiwool; Yohan had no plans to stay there long-term. The distance from the allied camps was too great, and its location wasn’t ideal for reconnaissance activities.

He had already scouted a new camp near Sangdong Station—a newly built rural housing complex with sturdy fences and a gravity-fed water tank. The location was also close enough to draw water from the Gulpocheon stream if needed. Strategically, this formed a diamond-shaped network with the mart, hospital, middle school, and rural complex camps at each point.

It was a stable structure.

Bringing Mr. Kim along was part of the plan. For morale-boosting purposes, the facilities from the shelter needed to be relocated.

“Team 1 will handle the truck; Team 2 will provide escort,” Yohan ordered.

To evaluate Team 2’s capabilities, Yohan assigned them and Corporal Ong to the front lines, opting to observe rather than participate. With Hyuk’s prior instructions, the team members cooperated willingly with Yohan.

“Aria, two zombies on the left!” Hyuk called out, leading the battle skillfully.

Team 2 might not have been as exceptional as Team 1, but their training and coordination were evident. However, Corporal Ong’s performance left something to be desired. Using a bayonet-equipped rifle limited his movements, but Yohan understood his attachment to firearms.

“He’s young. He’ll improve with experience,” Yohan thought to himself.

“Hold it. Stay alert from here on,” Yohan instructed as the group reached the fenced-off rural housing complex in Kachiwool.

The glinting fishing lines coated with glass shards that Yohan had previously set up shimmered in the sunlight, wrapped around the fences.

Normally, Yohan would’ve navigated the traps via the rooftops, but since this was only a temporary stay, he planned to dismantle the traps and clear the area of zombies.

“From this point, no one moves ahead of me or goes barehanded. Watch your step—anything under the first layer of flooring, whether cardboard or mats, is trapped.”

“Trapped? What kind of traps?”

“Pits with reversed spikes.”

“…What?”

“There are fishing lines between the trees. Don’t stray off the path.”

“Fishing lines? Why?”

“They’re coated with ground glass. A single touch will cut you deep.”

The team members were appalled at the fortress-like defenses.

“Oh, and the place is full of zombies. It’s the perfect spot for training in handling groups—dangerous but manageable.”

As Yohan explained more precautions, the team’s anxiety grew.

“Just what kind of place is this?”

The reconnaissance team was left in awe of Yohan’s meticulous and ruthless approach. None of them wanted to end up as his enemy.

At Yohan’s signal, a fierce battle ensued. Zombies swarmed from all directions, but the team maintained their formation and methodically took them down. Sweeper and Seri, stationed at the front, dispatched the most zombies and looked quite pleased with themselves.

When they finally reached the shelter, the team instantly understood why Yohan had gone to such lengths with the traps.

The two-story—or rather, three-story including the semi-basement—rural house was clean, spacious, and in pristine condition. For survivors used to harsh living conditions, the state of the shelter was astonishing. There were no signs of battle or bloodshed, as though the apocalypse had simply passed it by.

The team felt like they had stumbled into a penthouse.

“Wow…”

“You’re drooling, Seri. First, change out of your dirty clothes. Anyone who wants to shower, go ahead.”

“Me! Me!” Seri raised her hand enthusiastically and dashed into the bathroom as soon as Yohan pointed to it, worried someone else might beat her to it.

“There’s a smaller bathroom on the second floor. Grab any T-shirt from the wardrobe to change into.”

“Oppa!”

Seri’s shrill voice made Yohan rush to the bathroom, where he found her staring at the showerhead, dumbfounded.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Warm… warm water is coming out…”

Seri looked as though she might cry from gratitude. Yohan chuckled softly. Considering how long it had been since any of them had bathed properly, her reaction wasn’t surprising.

“This is amazing. I’ll even forgive you if you peek today.”

“Shut up and take your shower.”

The rest of the team explored the shelter. Most rooms were stocked with supplies or leisure items, but the real surprise lay in the semi-basement storage.

The storage area was packed with supplies—at least two-thirds of it filled with water and food, including canned goods and emergency rations. It was even better stocked than the mart camp.

The variety of imported canned goods alone was impressive.

“Hey, does this thing have a PlayStation?”

“It works, but I only have ‘The Walking Dead 3’ and ‘Winning Eleven’.”

“…”

“’Winning Eleven’ it is,” the team muttered among themselves.

“Just so you know, the power supply isn’t very strong. Conserve electricity,” Yohan advised.

The living room quickly filled with the younger members lounging on the sofas. Hajin claimed the king-size bed, and the women hovered near the bathrooms, their eyes lighting up at the thought of warm water.

Nobody even bothered to ask why Yohan had kept such a luxurious place to himself. They were too busy exploring, their excitement akin to puppies on a snowy day.

From a corner, Yohan noticed Sweeper opening a laptop.

Yohan tilted his head at the sight of Sweeper fiddling with a laptop.

“A laptop without internet? What for? The only thing it’s good for is Minesweeper.”

“Well,” Sweeper replied, smirking, “as your subordinate, I figured it’s my duty to learn more about the boss’s collection and preferences.”

Yohan frowned at the remark.

Sweeper let out a small hum of disappointment as he failed to find whatever he was looking for on the laptop.

“Huh. That’s odd. There should’ve been something…”

At that moment, Jung-hwan poked his head into the conversation with a mischievous grin.

“For reference, Yohan’s preference is voyeurism. Sweeper, there’s bound to be an external hard drive somewhere. Let’s search for it!”

“Cut it out, you lunatics,” Yohan muttered under his breath.

—

Before sunset, Yohan inspected the fences surrounding the housing complex and adjusted the traps near the shelter. Upon his return, he found the reconnaissance team scattered about, enjoying their rare downtime, while Mr. Kim was examining the solar power kits.

Calling everyone together, Yohan announced it was time for dinner. To commemorate their first meal at the first shelter, he had prepared a small celebratory gathering. Though their only alcohol was beer, he had frozen meat stored, intended for his first guests at the shelter.

Though it wasn’t enough to fully satisfy all sixteen people, the fresh meat—savory and sizzling—was more than enough to lift the survivors’ spirits.

The limitation was the small freezer, as the solar power system couldn’t support a large unit. Still, having even a modest freezer was fortunate, allowing them to enjoy what might be their last taste of fresh meat.

As the meat sizzled on the grill, the survivors’ gazes turned predatory, their mouths practically watering as they stared at the feast.

“Meat!” someone exclaimed excitedly.

To avoid any disputes, Yohan distributed the meat evenly to each person. One survivor even shed tears over their portion, overwhelmed by the simple joy of having fresh food—a nostalgic reminder of better times.

Each person was limited to two cans of beer. While relaxation was encouraged, Yohan ensured they didn’t get too carried away.

“I’ll take tonight’s watch,” Yohan announced. “Rest well, because starting tomorrow, we’ll be back to full activity. Prepare yourselves.”

At his words, the group eagerly devoured their food. Once their hunger was sated, the atmosphere shifted into a casual drinking session.

Seri, holding a smartphone she had found somewhere, began filming the lively group, capturing the rare moment of joy. The incongruity of the scene—cheerful survivors in an apocalyptic world—was striking. For the first time in a long while, they seemed genuinely alive.

Most maintained a certain degree of vigilance, but the tension was noticeably lower than usual.

“Leader, give us a speech!” Seri called out, shoving the phone toward Yohan. Her playful energy drew a smile from him.

“Should I make it long?” Yohan teased.

“Go ahead! We’d love to hear the leader’s lecture!”

As Yohan stood, the lively chatter quieted, and a few people clapped. Everyone knew they owed their current situation to him, and their gazes reflected admiration, respect, and gratitude.

Feeling the weight of their expectations, Yohan began.

“It’s a good opportunity. There’s something I’ve wanted to say,” he started, drawing everyone’s attention.

He paused to gather his thoughts, considering how to convey his message.

After a moment of silence, he spoke.

“As you all know, the world has fallen. Over the past six months, the government and military fought hard but lost, leaving people scattered and struggling to survive.”

He began by acknowledging the grim reality—a world ravaged by an unprecedented disaster and the relentless fight for survival.

The mood grew somber as Yohan’s words resonated with the survivors.

“But we’re alive. We’ve managed to hold onto fragments of civilization.”

A few people nodded in agreement.

“My goal is simple: survival. I want to survive the zombies, the scarcity of food, the raiders, and the despair.”

His words were calm and straightforward.

“I know it sounds like a dream, but I need your help. As members of the reconnaissance team, you’ll fight zombies, repel invaders, and solve food shortages to inspire hope in those who rely on us. You’ll be at the forefront, in the most dangerous places.”

Yohan paused to let his words sink in. Despite the heaviness of the topic, his speech had a magnetic pull, filling his listeners with a sense of purpose.

“Because of that, I need each of you to be strong and courageous. Those who fall behind, become a burden to their comrades, or hesitate to turn their blade on a threat—even if it’s another human—cannot remain on this team. If you lack confidence, speak up now, and I’ll remove you from the team. I understand some of you didn’t choose to be here voluntarily.

“But for those who stay, I promise you’ll be treated accordingly.”