Chapter 72

Yohan quickly relayed the situation and stepped out of cover once more to fire. He then ducked back just as bullets struck the walls behind him with a sharp crack.

Judging by the intervals between gunshots, the enemy force was small. At most, two or three. A manageable number.

He turned again and fired precisely at his target. A man behind a pillar took a bullet to the torso and collapsed. Another man appeared immediately after.

Yohan remained calm, fired again, and his bullet pierced the man’s forehead. Two shots, two kills. He retreated back into cover.

‘Any more hostiles?’

Silence. An eerie stillness settled over the area. Yohan cautiously peeked out to scan the surroundings.

“Mmmph—!”

Behind him, the bound captive thrashed. Yohan silenced him with a swift blow to the back of the head with his rifle stock.

– “This is Sweeper. Multiple hostiles spotted at the district office. Engaging now.”

Sweeper’s transmission signaled the start of another skirmish. Not knowing the full extent of the enemy’s numbers was unsettling, but Yohan trusted them. Team 3 had two of their strongest fighters.

With a hand signal, Yohan and his squad swiftly moved deeper into the store. The place had once been a mixed-use office and commercial building, with partitions and pillars scattered about—ideal for cover.

Just as they secured positions, a door on the left suddenly swung open.

‘Bang!’

Reacting instinctively, Yohan fired the moment the door moved. The man who had been raising a revolver stumbled backward, hit.

But something was off. The sound of the bullet hitting wasn’t right—it wasn’t the usual impact noise.

‘Armor.’

Realizing his target was wearing body armor, Yohan fired again. But the man had already rolled out of sight.

Not just any body armor—metal plating.

Not only were the enemies armed, but at least one of them had full protective gear. This could turn into a tougher fight than expected.

Yohan quickly updated his team.

– “Additional intel: The enemy is wearing body armor. Aim for the head.”

With that, he issued new orders.

“Hyuk, secure the captive. The rest of you, cover the front.”

If one enemy was armored, there was a chance the first two he had shot weren’t fully incapacitated either. They had to stay vigilant.

Yohan showed no impatience. The enemy was likely waiting for them to charge in. If they acted rashly, they could lose everything.

‘They don’t know our numbers or our strength either.’

Patience. He would wait for them to grow anxious and make the first mistake.

A loud scraping noise shattered the silence.

‘Drrrrrk!’

Inside the room, a man was pushing forward with a 140cm metal office desk, using it as a shield. Bullets rained down on the desk, but they couldn’t penetrate the thick steel.

“Dodge!”

Like a battering ram, the desk came charging at them.

Some squad members dove aside to avoid it, quickly scattering and taking new positions as trained. Yohan moved in the opposite direction, preparing to fire at the man from behind.

But the enemy was wearing a helmet as well.

For a moment, Yohan hesitated—there was no clear weak point to aim for. That brief moment of indecision cost him.

A fire axe swung at him.

‘Whoosh!’

The air parted as the blade came down. Yohan barely managed to block it with his rifle.

The impact sent a jarring pain through his hands. The force was stronger than he expected, and he could see a new dent forming on his rifle.

As he struggled, his teammates opened fire, but their shots mostly missed. The enemy was too close to Yohan, making it difficult to support without hitting him.

Realizing the disadvantage, the helmeted man retreated behind a pillar.

Gunfire continued, bullets ricocheting off his armor.

“Watch the front! Someone cover it!” Yohan shouted, pressing himself against a pillar.

They had focused too much on the left. The front was now vulnerable. The first enemy might still be alive, and someone needed to watch that direction.

For a moment, he thought they had control of the situation—

“Stop.”

A cold voice cut through the chaos.

“Seri!”

Damn it.

The helmeted man had only been a distraction. While he charged in recklessly to break their formation, another enemy had circled around and taken Seri hostage.

Unfamiliar terrain had worked against them. The enemies were well-trained and had clearly fought together for a long time.

Yohan bit his lip as the helmeted man finally stepped forward, his voice muffled from inside his helmet.

“Drop your weapons and surrender.”

“Not a chance. We have a hostage too,” Yohan countered immediately. “Hyuk, if they so much as touch a hair on Seri, shoot.”

“We don’t negotiate with hostages, kid.”

“Neither do we. Seri, it was nice knowing you. I’ll make sure to avenge you.”

“Hah!”

The enemy let out a scoffing laugh. This was new. They had never dealt with intruders like this before. One of their own was already dead, and the rest of them were in real danger.

They had both taken a hostage, but Yohan wasn’t budging.

Still, the enemy was confident. Survivors rarely abandoned their own.

“So, what now?” the man taunted. “Do we each kill one hostage and keep going?”

“Drop your weapons. We’ll spare you.”

“That’s my line, kid.”

Yohan’s mind raced. The situation had reached a stalemate, and there was no clear way out.

The enemy was strong, protected by body armor and helmets. Taking them down in one swift move would be impossible. And with Seri as a hostage, he couldn’t make any reckless moves.

A battle of wits. Three against three. Not the worst odds, but not great either.

– “Boss, you hear me?”

Sweeper’s voice crackled through the radio.

Yohan didn’t respond. Any sudden action might provoke the enemy into escalating the situation further.

– “No response? Must be a tough situation. Well, checkmate. We caught the so-called leader.”

Yohan let out an involuntary chuckle.

“Hah, now ‘that’ is a nice shot.”

“Bullshit. You expect me to believe that old man got caught? Quit messing around.”

The helmeted man raised his gun, clearly skeptical of the radio transmission. Yohan and his team mirrored the action, aiming their weapons at him. But the radio wasn’t finished yet.

– “Old man, if you don’t want to die, tell your men to drop their weapons. If you even ‘think’ about biting your tongue, I’ll cut off your junk and shove it in your mouth. Got it?”

Yohan had never heard such sweet words in his life. The honeyed voice over the radio was followed by another, rougher voice.

– “You bastards… You just stepped in shit.”

The enemy hesitated. Yohan smirked, his lips curling upwards.

‘Our queen just bit the enemy’s king by the throat.’

He grinned. “Well? You dropping your weapons or what?”

The helmeted man sighed before ripping off his helmet and tossing it to the ground. It wobbled a few times before coming to a stop.

A long scar ran from his left eyebrow down to his right jawline. A blade wound—old, but deep. His face twisted in frustration.

“Dammit. They caught the old man? What kind of freaks are you people?”

“Quit wasting energy and put the weapons down. Last warning.”

The scarred man spat on the ground and glanced at the guy holding Seri hostage, giving him a subtle nod.

Not understanding the signal, the man hesitated and asked, “What do we do?”

“What do you think?”

“Are we really surrendering? Just because they got the old man?”

“Put the damn gun down, you idiot. If the old man dies, I’ll kill you myself.”

At that, the man hesitated before finally lowering his gun from Seri’s temple.

Seizing the moment, Seri stomped on his foot with the heel of her boot.

“Argh!”

The man flinched in pain. In that split second, Seri grabbed the revolver from her thigh holster, pressing it against his chin.

“You little—”

‘Click.’ The unmistakable sound of a revolver being cocked echoed under his jaw. The man gulped.

“Where do you think you’re putting those filthy hands, huh? You wanna die?”

Her icy glare was sharp enough to kill. She was ‘pissed’. Being taken hostage even for a moment clearly got under her skin.

As Yohan chuckled, Seri turned her glare on him instead.

“What was that? ‘Seri, it was nice knowing you?'”

Her glare burned through him. Yohan scratched his cheek awkwardly and raised his hands.

“Uh… sorry?”

“You ‘better’ hope you never get taken hostage. I ‘will’ make you beg for death.”

Leaving a sulking Seri with Hyuk, Yohan got to work restraining the enemy captives himself. He crossed their arms and wrapped cloth around their hands, securing it with a tight figure-eight knot.

“Kid, my hands are going numb!” one of them complained.

“Then I’ll just cut them off if they rot,” Yohan replied flatly.

Even while being restrained, the men kept running their mouths. Yohan tightened the knots one last time and radioed Team 2.

– “Hajin, link up with Team 1. The gunfire attracted a lot of zombies. We’ll move together to the district office.”

– “Got it.”

As Yohan smoked through two cigarettes in quick succession, Hajin and two others from Team 2 arrived.

Yohan positioned Hajin at the front, with Hyuk and Seri covering the sides while he guarded the rear. The captives were escorted by three remaining team members, while two more, along with Jinsu, handled crowd control.

Even though the distance to the district office wasn’t far, they had more captives than combat-ready personnel. They had to remain on high alert.

It had been a while since a normal zombie fight had resulted in casualties, but the undead were still deadly. Even a single scratch could be fatal.

And danger was most terrifying when it became ‘too’ familiar.

“Haaahp!”

Hajin effortlessly plunged his prosthetic blade beneath a zombie’s jaw, kicked it off, and repeated the motion like he was breaking a toy.

“Goddamn it, you assholes! You know we can’t run or resist, just let us go already!”

The captives thrashed in fear as the zombies closed in. Understandable, considering they were tied up and walking straight through the horde. But the search team paid them no mind.

After breaking through the swarm, they finally reached the district office—where they were greeted by a gathered group.

Sweeper still had an older man by the scruff of his neck, a gun pressed against his head. Three other survivors guarded about a dozen people, their expressions tense.

Yohan focused on the older man.

Not ‘quite’ old—he straddled the line between middle-aged and elderly. His wrinkled face spoke of years of hardship, but his sturdy build and visible muscles suggested he was still formidable.

And despite the situation, he wasn’t cowering.

On the contrary, he looked ‘intrigued’.

‘There are probably more of them.’

This wasn’t all of their people. They likely had more hidden at the Women’s Hall.

Yohan met Sweeper’s gaze and raised a thumb.

“I didn’t see it, but that was a damn fine play.”