RE: Survival - Chapter 60

As David staggered toward Yohan, his shredded body losing chunks of the metal plating that had once encased him, Yohan instinctively knew he had landed an effective blow.

But the mutant did not fall. Though it swayed in place, appearing on the verge of collapse, Yohan understood the importance of a definitive kill. There was no guarantee it wouldn’t recover.

Pulling the pin from his last grenade, Yohan approached the creature. Its movements were stiff and jerky.

Just as Yohan plunged his knife into David’s eye again and pushed its head back to open its mouth, the creature’s long arms whipped around with a sudden burst of speed.

Its massive face slammed against Yohan, forcing him backward. Before Yohan could react, David’s jaws clamped down on his shoulder.

“Aagh!”

The searing pain of torn skin was unbearable, but Yohan gritted his teeth, shoving the grenade into David’s open mouth. With both hands, he forced its jaw shut, holding it tightly in place.

He couldn’t pull away. All he could do was hope the explosion wouldn’t affect him too. Seconds later, a muffled ‘boom’ shook the air, and one of David’s pale, white eyeballs popped out.

The mutant’s trembling body finally went limp.

Yohan shoved the corpse away, the grotesque remains of the mutant collapsing lifelessly to the ground. As his gaze shifted to his shoulder, he could see the wet, bloody mess soaking his clothes. He didn’t need to look closely to know the injury was severe. Worse, it wasn’t even in a spot where he could amputate to stop the infection.

The location of the bite meant that infection would set in within five minutes.

Yohan dropped his knife, trudging toward the window of the building, and lit a cigarette.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips.

He had never expected to walk away unscathed from this battle. The opponent had been far too formidable.

Still, he felt he had fought well. He thought of the countless attacks he had narrowly evaded and let out a hollow chuckle. At least he could enjoy one last cigarette before dying.

With that thought, Yohan’s vision faded, and he collapsed.

—

‘Crash!’

The sound of something shattering broke through the haze.

Pain jolted Yohan awake.

‘Could it be? Did I return again?’

As he looked around, he realized he wasn’t back in his apartment, as he had been during his first regression. Instead, he was in the first-floor welfare building where he had collapsed earlier.

Yohan checked his watch. Two hours had passed since the operation began.

Looking around, he found a cracked mirror and studied his reflection. He wasn’t a zombie. There were no signs of transformation or infection.

“What the hell is going on…”

Taking off his jacket, Yohan examined the bite mark on his shoulder. Blood still oozed from the wound, the imprint of teeth unmistakable.

He had been bitten. Not only that, but he had also been drenched in the mutant’s blood.

Yet, he wasn’t infected.

One word came to mind: ‘immunity’. (T/N: Yessss! )

But immunity had never been a possibility in either his past or current life. In his previous life, he had died from a zombie bite.

So why now?

He had survived countless situations where infection should have been certain. The only explanation was immunity.

Could it be connected to his regression? That was the only variable that had changed.

But Yohan refused to jump to conclusions.

He stuck to the facts: he had been bitten by the mutant David but had not become infected. That was all he could confirm.

The concept of immunity was something he couldn’t yet accept. Perhaps David was a unique mutant incapable of causing infection. Or maybe he had simply been extraordinarily lucky this time.

Any of these possibilities were absurd, and the series of fortunate and unfortunate events that had occurred made his head spin. It felt as if some unknown force was toying with his fate, alternately trying to kill him and keep him alive.

Yohan stood and exited the building. David’s grotesque corpse lay where it had fallen. Yohan walked toward the deuce-and-a-half truck nearby, but Hajin was nowhere in sight.

Was he safe? Hajin’s screams from earlier still echoed in Yohan’s mind like a haunting tinnitus.

Shaking his head, Yohan removed his jacket, shirt, and undershirt to clean the blood from his shoulder. The undershirt, now stiff with dried blood, was useless. Using it as a rag, he wiped himself down.

Once the blood was gone, the bite wound stood out clearly—a mark that would make anyone recoil in horror. Yohan wrapped his shoulder with clean bandages and buttoned his jacket to conceal it.

Just as he prepared to head toward the armory, he noticed something. Bloodstains led to the truck but didn’t trail away from it.

‘Don’t tell me…’

Climbing onto the truck, Yohan’s suspicions were confirmed.

In the cargo bed, Hajin lay unconscious in a pool of blood. Nearby, his severed arm lay discarded, evidence of a desperate self-amputation. The tourniquet and bandages on the stump spoke volumes about his determination to survive.

Yohan crouched next to Hajin, shaking him gently. There was no response. He checked Hajin’s breathing—faint but present. His forehead radiated heat.

Yohan pried open one of Hajin’s eyes and saw the white sclera.

He wasn’t infected.

Relief turned to incredulous laughter. Hajin had cut off his own arm and treated himself in time to avoid infection.

It was a level of toughness that was, frankly, insane.

Yohan shook his head in disbelief at the sight of Hajin’s state.

After lowering the back panel of the truck, he hoisted Hajin over his shoulder. The weight was overwhelming, and sweat poured down his face within just a few steps.

By the time he arrived at the armory, the battle seemed to have concluded. Jae-ho and Eun-jung were clearing zombie corpses, making paths through the piles of the dead.

The mountain of zombie bodies surrounding the armory bore vivid testimony to the hours of fierce combat.

Yohan gently placed Hajin down in one corner of the warehouse. Inside, the space was chaotic, littered with spent casings, empty magazines, bloodied firearms, and scattered ammunition. In another corner lay the corpses of two search team members, carefully positioned side by side.

Apart from the two bodies and the two individuals present, no one else was in sight. For a brief moment, unease crept into Yohan’s thoughts. He called out to Jae-ho.

“Jae-ho, where’s everyone else?”

“A Goliath appeared at the southeastern fence. It broke through, so everyone went there to stop it.”

“What about casualties? Any others?”

“None, thanks to Sweeper. He returned just before it broke through.”

Only then did Yohan let out a sigh of relief. He had suspected the zombie wave was over the moment he regained consciousness.

The eerie howling of the zombies had vanished into dead silence. It was likely that Sweeper’s group had managed to take down the last Goliath.

They were probably cleaning up the aftermath by now. Feeling slightly at ease, Yohan pressed the transmission button on his radio.

“Sweeper, it’s Yohan.”

– “Hey, Commander. Why didn’t you respond earlier? I thought you were dead, man.”

“The fight was intense.”

– “Really? Well, I’m glad. Don’t die, though. I’m not cut out to be the leader.”

Yohan smirked at Sweeper’s strangely misplaced concern.

“I heard the fence got breached. What’s the situation like?”

– “Almost wrapped up. Thought the Hulk mutant was just a punching bag, but man, it’s still a mutant. It almost snapped my spine when I got too close.”

“Good. Finish up quickly and get back here.”

– “You injured?”

“Not me, but Hajin’s seriously hurt.”

– “Got it. I’ll head back soon.”

After ending the call, Yohan switched channels and called Jung-hwan.

“Jung-hwan, it’s Yohan.”

– “Yes, Hyung!”

“Everything okay on your end?”

– “Yes, all good.”

“There’s a bike behind the courtyard. The keys are in my desk drawer. Get Dr. Park from the shelter as fast as you can.”

– “…Did someone get hurt?”

Jung-hwan’s voice grew tense.

“Hajin lost an arm. Tell the doctor to prepare everything for emergency treatment.”

– “Got it, Hyung.”

Yohan, dragging his heavy body, began loading equipment and ammunition onto carts. Despite the significant amount of ammo they had consumed, the stockpile seemed endless. Just as he had estimated, they had enough to withstand three more zombie waves.

The only regret was that they had nearly exhausted all their claymores and grenades—equipment invaluable in situations like this. Their limited supply had always been a concern.

While Yohan sweated through the effort, other team members arrived, their faces pale and worn. In just a few hours, they looked like they had aged several years.

“All good, Commander!”

Well, except for one.

The team froze in shock at the sight of Hajin’s severed arm. Seri, who had fought beside him for a long time, looked particularly distraught.

It wasn’t until Yohan explained that Hajin wasn’t infected and could recover with proper treatment that Seri’s expression eased.

“Let’s hurry and load the ammo. Time’s short.”

Thus ended the grueling zombie wave, which lasted barely four hours but felt like an eternity.

The team pushed carts filled with four loads of ammunition and one of firearms as they returned from their long-range expedition.

—

At the shelter, the team collapsed into sleep almost as soon as they arrived. They had reached their physical and mental limits. Even Sweeper, who usually seemed tireless, threw his clothes aside and buried himself in bedding.

Hajin, under Dr. Park’s care, was stable but still in critical condition. The infection window had passed, but severe blood loss and shock remained serious concerns.

Members with matching blood types willingly donated to help him recover.

Meanwhile, Yohan stood guard on the rooftop, gazing down at the carts of ammunition parked in the courtyard.

Two lives—perhaps three—had been traded for this new firepower for the camp. It was enough to fend off most mutants and rival groups.

If they wanted, they could raid any territory or dismantle any organization.

Though he felt guilt for the fallen team members, the value of their sacrifice was undeniable. Their deaths had not been in vain.

‘“Hah…”’

Exhaustion weighed on Yohan like a predator stalking its prey. His eyelids drooped, and he struggled to keep them open.

“Hyung.”

“Ah, Jung-hwan.”

“I’ll take over the watch. Go get some rest.”

“You’ve been on watch for twelve hours. Go rest yourself.”

“I’m fine. It’s just sitting around. But you look like you’re about to collapse.”

He wasn’t wrong. Even as they spoke, fatigue clawed at Yohan’s consciousness.

“Alright. I’ll leave it to you.”

“Yes, Hyung.”

The moment Yohan reached his quarters, he barely made it to the floor before falling into a deep sleep.

(T/N: Whoooo! What a fitting end for this week’s arc. That was very intense!)