Chapter 73
“I’m always the best. But these guys? They were tough. It was a close call.”
“You did well. Tie them all up.”
Just as Sweeper had said, they were a well-trained group—almost fully armed. These weren’t just ordinary thugs.
Following Yohan’s command, the team quickly restrained the hostiles. Some of them winced and struggled, but the process was completed without much of a fuss. Soon, they were all on their knees, hands tightly bound.
Yohan studied them before asking, “Who are you people? And what’s your connection to the survivors at the Women’s Family Foundation?”
Silence. None of them answered. Yohan glanced at Sweeper, who finally released the old man.
As Hyuk moved to tie him up, the old man waved his hands dismissively. The team immediately aimed their guns at him, signaling that no unnecessary movements would be tolerated.
The old man clicked his tongue and sat cross-legged on the ground.
“You kids have no respect for your elders, huh? You really gonna make me kneel and tie me up in front of my people? Damn, my head’s still ringing.”
The groups’ expressions darkened at his insolence, but Yohan signaled them to stand down. The old man chuckled before turning to one of the captives Yohan had brought in.
“Cheol-gu, where’s Dong-soo?”
“Dead.”
“Motherf— Three of us down already? Yeah, we really stepped in shit this time.”
“Enough with the chit-chat.”
Yohan cut them off.
“We lost three of our own. Let’s call it even. You’re the ones who ambushed us—so don’t act like you’re the victims here.”
“Just answer the damn question.”
The old man sucked his teeth in frustration.
If they wouldn’t talk, Yohan was prepared to force the answers out of them. Just as he tightened his grip on his knife and stepped forward, a radio on the old man’s shoulder crackled to life.
– “Grandpa, Yohan. Are you there?”
Jung-mi’s voice.
Yohan’s expression flickered slightly. The survivors who had entered the hall must have relayed his presence. The old man seized the moment.
“Well, well. You know her?”
“I used to.”
Yohan smoothly snatched the radio from the old man’s shoulder and pressed the transmit button.
“It’s been a while.”
A brief silence. Then, Jung-mi responded.
– “I knew you’d be there. Is Grandpa okay?”
“He’s fine. For now.”
Yohan cast a glance at the old man as he spoke.
– “Let’s talk. I’ll come over.”
“Alone?”
– “…It’ll take me a little longer.”
“If you don’t come alone, I’ll kill them all.”
– “Understood.”
The old man gawked at Yohan, mouth hanging open in disbelief.
Before long, Jung-mi arrived.
She had changed.
Gone was the purely good-natured look she used to have. There was now a sharp edge to her, and a small scar marred her left forehead. The apocalypse had left its mark on her. Yet, she still carried herself with the same clarity and confidence as before.
Seeing her, Yohan was reminded of the time, eight months ago, when she had interrogated him with an almost playful attitude.
Yohan gave her a small nod.
“Not exactly the kind of reunion for pleasantries, is it?”
“I’m happy to see you, though.”
“That so?”
Jung-mi took a step forward, but Hajin’s blade shot out in warning, making her stop in her tracks.
“It’s fine,” Yohan assured him.
“You haven’t changed, Yohan,” she said, eyes scanning his group. She seemed to recognize a few faces, her voice tinged with familiarity.
“Thanks,” she added.
“For what?”
“For saving me back then. And for the advice you gave me. It helped me survive.”
“I doubt it. The ones meant to live will live. The ones meant to die will die.”
As the brief exchange of pleasantries wrapped up, Sweeper casually lit a cigarette. Seeing this, the old man gestured toward him.
“Hey, kid. Got a light?”
Sweeper smirked and tossed him his lighter.
The old man caught it smoothly and lit up. For a moment, they smoked in companionable silence.
Then, Jung-mi got to the point.
“Can I ask why you attacked us?”
“We didn’t come to attack. It’s just standard procedure to subdue anyone heavily armed in these times. We’ve been running a camp in the area, and we heard your broadcast. A broadcast like that is bound to attract dangerous people, so we came to investigate. Given the armed presence here, we assumed it was a trap and engaged accordingly.”
“A trap? This is a rescue camp, nothing more.”
“Then why did you have armed men stationed so suspiciously?”
“That’s—”
The old man interrupted her.
“I’ll explain. We’re mercenaries.”
“Mercenaries?”
“That’s right. Miss Kim here hires us. We lend our strength to protect her and her people. Not from good folks like you, but from the real scumbags out there.”
“And what do you get in return?”
The old man scoffed. “Anything useful. Jewelry, food, weapons… even people.”
His gaze shifted to Jung-mi.
“Speaking of which, Miss Kim. Three of my men just died. Don’t forget the extra payment for that.”
Mercenaries.
Yohan’s brow lifted slightly.
Trading supplies for military support. On the surface, it sounded like a reasonable deal. But in reality, it was far from sustainable in a lawless world.
In an apocalypse where power dictated survival, the stronger groups didn’t ‘trade’—they took what they wanted by force.
Survival of the fittest.
Those who had the strength to impose their will did so without negotiations.
“Do you have other clients?” Yohan asked.
“We used to. But they’re all gone now.”
“Zombie waves?”
“Yeah. Told them they needed to stop growing their numbers. They didn’t listen.”
Yohan had many questions, but he held his tongue and let Jung-mi continue.
“I’ve been through more than you can imagine since the world fell apart, Yohan. You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen. That’s why I started all of this—to stop others from becoming victims like I was. And recently, with survivors becoming scarcer, I decided to start the broadcasts.”
“How long have you been broadcasting?”
“About three weeks…”
Yohan had only heard it recently, but the broadcasts had begun earlier than that.
“Stop the broadcasts. It’s reckless and dangerous. And one last question for the old man.”
At Yohan’s suddenly more polite tone, the old man smirked, clearly pleased.
“If I answer, will you let my people go?”
“Why haven’t you raided Jung-mi’s camp? With such a vast power difference between your groups, why maintain a transactional relationship instead?”
The old man let out a wheezing laugh.
“You’re a piece of work, kid.”
Then he grinned.
“Not attacking them ‘is’ part of the deal.”
“…”
“Miss Kim provides us with information on zombie waves. Thanks to that, we’ve survived. And in return, we agreed not to threaten her camp. I take my word seriously, kid. You lose your credibility, you lose your business.”
Yohan now understood why Jung-mi had thanked him earlier.
There were still some things that didn’t fully make sense, but he nodded. There was likely more to this story than what was being said here.
His mind worked quickly.
The old man interrupted his thoughts.
“So? What now?”
“I’m thinking.”
“How about we just go our separate ways?”
“You think it’ll be that simple? We killed three of your people. You’re telling me your men won’t want revenge? We don’t leave threats behind.”
Yohan had already leaned toward eliminating them entirely. No loose ends.
The old man let out a dry laugh.
“Kid, we’re mercenaries. We sell our lives for a living. Revenge doesn’t pay the bills.”
“Sorry, but I don’t trust that.”
“You trust Miss Kim’s word but not mine? Even after seeing that I keep my promises?”
For the first time, the old man showed a flicker of unease. He had maintained an air of control, but Yohan’s firm stance was starting to shake him.
He had likely assumed that since they had been captured instead of executed outright, their lives would be spared.
A mistake.
Regardless of the circumstances, the old man was a man of presence. He wasn’t just some scavenger or gang leader. He had a commanding presence, the kind of person who could lead men into battle and make them follow without hesitation.
Had the situation been different, Yohan might have considered keeping him alive.
But this was an accident—a violent, unavoidable accident.
Yohan wasn’t the type to regret his actions.
The only thing bothering him was Jung-mi’s camp.
If she truly was doing genuine rescue work and the old man’s mercenaries had been protecting her, then executing him was essentially the same as cutting off her camp’s lifeline.
The old man seemed to catch onto his hesitation.
“How many men do you think I’ve lost because of this chaos? Over a hundred. A ‘hundred’ of my men are dead. I’ve lost so many that even if my own son died, I doubt I’d feel anything. This is the world we live in. You die today, I die tomorrow—no sense in making a big deal out of it.”
Yohan remained silent.
“So let’s not waste our strength over nothing. I feel bad for my dead men, sure, but this was an accident. A job gone wrong. You see it that way too, don’t you?”
“I do,” Yohan admitted. “But if I were in your position, I wouldn’t leave any group alive that had the power to threaten me.”
“Even if it was a misunderstanding? Even if we lost and surrendered willingly?”
Yohan didn’t answer.
The old man took that as his cue to keep pushing.
“Look, we’ve already lost. We won’t be coming after you for revenge. In exchange, just pay compensation for my dead men. A settlement, if you will.”
A tempting offer.
If Yohan took them in, forged an alliance, his camp would gain a powerful advantage.
But he couldn’t do it.
The need for absolute security, his fundamental distrust in people, wouldn’t allow it.
If this had been before the regression, he wouldn’t have even hesitated. When had he started to waver like this?
He exhaled softly before asking,
“What did you do before all this?”
“Ever heard of the Special Police EOD unit? I was with them. Some of these guys were my subordinates. After I retired, I ran a defense company dealing in TNT and demolition materials.”
Yohan sighed internally.
Of all the people to become his enemy, it had to be someone like this.
‘Damn shame.’
This man was exactly the kind of person Yohan needed.
And now, all of this felt even more like a waste.
‘An accident. Just an accident.’
Would he have spoken the same way if three of ‘his’ people had died?
Probably.
He would have accepted the loss, but he would never have let an enemy go free.
Once someone points a gun at you, you can never trust them again.
His mind swirled with thoughts.
