Chapter 90

The message Yohan had left behind became a snare, shackling the enemy’s movements. Just as expected, Gae Baek-jeong lost his composure, frantically calling out over the radio in a desperate bid to uncover Yohan’s identity.

More than half of his forces had been cut down. And now, an unknown adversary had demonstrated an alarming level of knowledge about them. Anyone would be terrified in such a situation.

Given this, Jeanie—who always preferred to stay two steps ahead and manipulate the board—would inevitably come to a single conclusion:

Pause. Assess the situation. Wait until a new plan emerges.

The enemy won’t move.

Since their plans were being read like an open book, they couldn’t afford to flee recklessly. Instead, they’d likely prioritize securing the hostages inside the underground shelter.

But the shelter was fortified, stocked with ample food and water. While the Seoul Survival Union was fixated on the underground hideout, the Recon Team would surround the Recon Camp, trapping the enemy inside like rats in a cage.

With their backs against the wall, they wouldn’t be able to set fire to the camp. Their supply lines cut off, they’d either wither away inside or be forced to crawl out, only to get their heads blown off.

It was perfect.

A flawlessly executed scenario—if only the camp hadn’t fallen so soon.

Gae Baek-jeong had nearly pinpointed the exact number of survivors in the shelter. That meant it had been breached. The problem was, it happened far too early.

Why was the camp breached so quickly?

Even if the survivors had merely barricaded the entrance with supplies and locked the door, they should have been able to hold out for at least an hour.

Arson was always a possible variable, but the enemy wouldn’t risk burning everything down—including the survivors and supplies they intended to use as slaves.

Even if they had decided on fire, the Recon Team would have had enough time to set up a perimeter before the enemy abandoned the shelter.

But it was already over.

Why?

Yohan’s mind raced.

It wasn’t because Jung-hwan had failed. The fact that survivors had reached the Recon Camp meant that he had successfully relayed orders.

That meant Jung-hwan himself had been prevented from escaping.

Someone must have disobeyed orders, either causing a disruption or outright refusing to follow his commands. And then, inside the shelter—without Jung-hwan—someone had ignored protocol and acted on their own.

And that reckless act had put the entire camp in danger.

“Haah…”

Yohan exhaled sharply, his hands trembling in fury.

Inside that shelter were people he couldn’t afford to lose—Dr. Park Jae-beom, Old Man Park, Mr. Kim, Ji-hye.

But what he had overlooked was the fact that some of the survivors he had painstakingly protected were too foolish to even meet the bare minimum expectations he had for them.

All he had asked was for them to stay put, barricade the doors, and hold the line for thirty minutes—just long enough for the Recon Team to get into position.

And they couldn’t even manage that.

“Team Two, is the movement prep complete?”

– Ready.

“Good. Move in.”

The plan remained unchanged.

Even if it meant hundreds of people would be slaughtered in the process, Gae Baek-jeong would be eliminated.

That was their punishment for failing to follow orders.

Someone should have locked that door and defended the shelter, even if it meant pointing a gun at their fellow survivors. Someone should have held the line.

But no one did.

And that meant they did not deserve to live.

Yohan wouldn’t let Seoul Survival Union escape. Not a single one of them.

Their bones would be buried alongside the efforts of the survivors they had doomed.

Those taken hostage had only one way to prove they deserved to live: survive on their own.

“Jung-hwan, stay alive.”

Even if he hadn’t completed his mission, he would survive.

Because those meant to live would always find a way to survive.

Seri, however, was still shaken.

She had always insisted she didn’t see Jung-hwan as a man, but he was family to her—just as dear as an older brother.

“Calm down. Jung-hwan is alive. He’s not someone who dies so easily.”

As Seri struggled to steady herself, Yohan picked up the radio, preparing to make his final transaction.

“Old man, it’s me.”

– Ahh, kid. What’s the situation?

“The enemy has moved to Bucheon City Hall. I’m requesting one last trade. There’s something I need.”

– Not happening, you little shit!

“You will.”

Yohan spoke as if it were a foregone conclusion.

—

Jung-hwan had finally found Ah-young, but the moment of relief was short-lived.

The distant sound of motorcycles made his head snap up.

They were here.

They had arrived sooner than expected, but at least the evacuation was already complete.

The problem was himself.

There was no way he could make it back to the shelter in time.

If he tried, he might be spotted—and if they saw which direction he ran, they’d discover the hidden refugee site.

He couldn’t let one misstep endanger all the survivors.

Should I run in the opposite direction?

If he fled the other way, even if he was caught, at least the main camp would remain safe.

It would increase his own risk, but at least the others would have a better chance of survival.

His gaze flickered toward Ah-young, trembling in fear.

This frail girl shouldn’t have to share his fate.

They needed to hide. That was the only correct option.

Wait for the enemy to pass, then circle around and rendezvous with Yohan.

Jung-hwan gently grasped Ah-young’s wrist and led her into an apartment building nearby.

Once inside, he quickly grabbed his radio, transmitting a message to the survivors.

“This is Jung-hwan. Everyone has made it to the shelter, right?”

– Oh, Jung-hwan? Yeah, we’re all in. What about Ah-young?

“I found her. But I hear motorcycles. They’re already here.”

– What?! Already?!

“Yeah. Listen carefully—stay in the shelter. Do NOT step outside. Not for any reason. Got it?”

Jung-hwan emphasized every word.

It was the same critical order Yohan had given—because the Recon Camp’s underground shelter was fortified enough to withstand even grenades.

As long as they had armed guards blocking the door, they could hold out.

– See? Jung-hwan said it himself. Just listen to him.

But then, a different voice interjected.

– No! We need to take the high ground! We have to fight from an elevated position!

-“If you wanna die, do it alone!”

-“Seo-jun! That’s too much!”

A mess of voices overlapped through the radio. The survivors were arguing over whether to stay in the shelter or make a run for it. Jung-hwan felt like his head was about to explode.

We told them to stay put! The Recon Team is coming for them! Why won’t they just listen?!

He desperately tried to transmit another message, but someone was holding down the send button—blocking his voice from getting through.

After several failed attempts, Jung-hwan could hear the sound of approaching motorcycles getting louder. He had no choice but to whisper into the radio.

“Go underground… The basement…”

The rumble of engines was nearly on top of them now. Jung-hwan quickly muted the radio and grabbed Ah-young’s wrist, pulling her up the stairwell to the third floor.

They crouched low beside a hallway window, trying to catch their breath.

From their hiding spot, Jung-hwan saw the motorcycles roll into the apartment complex, stopping precisely at the gazebo where they had been just moments ago.

A chill ran down his spine.

How the hell did they know to look here?

The answer came almost immediately.

Beside the two riders, a massive hunting dog—nearly as tall as a person’s waist—panted heavily, its tongue flicking out as it sniffed the air.

It looked like it could rip through flesh with a single bite.

Jung-hwan swallowed dryly and held his breath. Through the window, he could hear the men talking.

“Gaeko, Jeanie wants us to head back.”

“Shut up and wait. I smell a woman nearby.”

“…I only smell rotting corpses.”

“I said shut up. Swallow, where did they go?”

Woof!

The hunting dog let out a deep bark before sniffing around the gazebo. Its nostrils flared, then it suddenly turned toward their building.

A tracker dog—bred for hunting humans.

Damn it. So that’s why Yohan said running was pointless.

Even if a hundred survivors moved quickly, they’d be tracked down in no time. Splitting up and hiding wouldn’t work either.

Yohan must have known the moment their location was exposed, hiding was no longer an option.

As Jung-hwan processed this, the dog steadily approached their building.

He gripped his gun tightly. The only option now was to strike first.

Ah-young, trembling in fear, clung to his chest. Even in this dire moment, the unexpected contact made Jung-hwan tense up.

His lower body reacted involuntarily.

What the hell, brain? Now?!

And with a student?!

Jung-hwan violently shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, then refocused on the enemy below.

Two men and one dog.

He had the element of surprise. They had no idea he was here. The numbers weren’t a problem.

He analyzed the targets. One of them suddenly struck the other on the back of the head.

That one’s in charge.

The leader had to go first.

Jung-hwan slowly slid the window open, keeping his movements controlled.

Now that the moment had come, his body stiffened with nerves. He had combat experience, but this was his first time fighting alone.

Can I do this?

Honestly, he wasn’t sure.

By all accounts, he saw himself as just another survivor. Maybe slightly above average.

His shooting? Average. His close combat skills? Average. His tactics? Average.

Just an ordinary guy.

And yet, Yohan always called him a “specialist.” Always gave him important roles.

At times, that pressure was overwhelming. But deep down, Jung-hwan had always been grateful to him.

Because Yohan had taken a cowardly, zombie-obsessed geek and turned him into this.

“I don’t want to disappoint him.”

Jung-hwan steeled himself, raising his gun through the open window.

He lined up the iron sights, centering them on the leader’s head.

Aiming for the body was risky—they could be wearing body armor.

There was no room for hesitation. If they spotted the glint of his gun barrel in the sunlight, he’d lose his advantage.

The first shot had to be a hit. If he missed, it would turn into a frontal fight—or worse, reinforcements could arrive.

If he took out the two men and the dog, he could still escape undetected.

A deep breath.

Everything slowed down. His focus locked onto the target.

“It’s just a zombie. You’ve shot plenty of zombies at this range.”

His finger tightened on the trigger.

BANG!

The gunshot cracked through the air.

The bullet struck Gaeko square in the face.

Woof! Woof!

The dog barked furiously, startled by the sudden attack.

Direct hit. A shiver ran down Jung-hwan’s spine—a mix of adrenaline and relief.

But there was no time to celebrate.

He immediately switched targets.

The second man had started scanning the area, gun raised.

“Always stay near cover. Always have an escape route.”

Jung-hwan remembered Yohan’s training as he fired three rapid shots.

The second man staggered as bullets struck his torso, but no blood spilled. Body armor.

Wincing in pain, the man turned toward the barking dog and started firing blindly.

Jung-hwan ducked just in time. The bullets whizzed past, hitting the walls and window frame.

As soon as the gunfire stopped, he popped back up.

BANG!

One more shot. This time, a clean hit to the head.

Jung-hwan didn’t hesitate.

He adjusted his aim and fired at the hunting dog, dropping it instantly.

For the first time, he realized his fist was clenched in victory. (T/N: Sweet! This is what you call a character development! Good job Jung-Hwan!)

This was exactly what Yohan always taught—
Create the most favorable conditions.
Strike with overwhelming force.

The enemy had underestimated the situation.

They had assumed the survivors had all fled.

They had assumed no one was left inside the camp.

And now, they were dead because of it.

If this had been a head-on fight, he might have been the one lying cold on the ground.

But he wasn’t.

He had won.

For the first time, Jung-hwan had won a battle alone.

A silent roar welled up inside him, a surge of triumph that he wished—more than anything—Yohan could see.