Chapter 93

“Aaaagh!”

“Ughhh!”

The last remnants of the Seoul Survival Union screamed as they emerged from the inferno, their bodies engulfed in flames. But their suffering was short-lived—bullets riddled their burning forms, putting an end to their agony.

Some staggered onto the rooftop, only to collapse, while others leaped from windows, their bodies riddled with holes before they even hit the ground.

A flawless victory.

The seamless execution of fire and encirclement left no survivors.

Through the raging flames, across the second-floor terrace, Gae Baek-jeong stood.

Despite the fire eating away at his body, he didn’t flinch. Instead, he threw his head back and let out a laugh—deep and guttural, as if it came from the depths of his very being.

In his hand was Jeanie, his face mutilated, unconscious in his grasp.

He walked forward, stepping toward the edge of the terrace.

“Cease fire.”

Yohan’s order came through the radio.

If they could capture him alive, Yohan would personally ensure he suffered a fate worse than death.

Come on, struggle. Despair. Prove your name means something, Baek-jeong.

There was no way out.

This was a perfect checkmate. Every exit blocked, every possibility sealed.

In his past life, Baek-jeong had won. But this time, Yohan had.

A chilling grin spread across Yohan’s face.

And then—it vanished.

Baek-jeong’s final decision wasn’t to fight or flee.

Instead, he raised his weapon and began to bludgeon Jeanie.

The flames consuming his own body meant nothing to him. His sole focus was on reducing his lover to a bloody pulp.

His last act was punishing the dog that had lost.

True to his name, he remained Gae Baek-jeong until the end.

The recon team stood frozen, horrified by the grotesque scene.

Finally, after tearing Jeanie apart, Baek-jeong wrenched off his head. Blood gushed, drenching him in crimson.

Grinning ear to ear, he lifted his severed head over his own—letting the blood pour down as if it were a sacred baptism.

Pure madness.

And then, his body finally succumbed.

The flames swallowed him whole.

(T/N: Damn. Why does it felt anti-climatic… or it’s just me.)

—

The fire raged for two full days.

It devoured neighboring buildings before finally dying out, having consumed all there was to burn.

Those who had escaped the flames sat, staring blankly into the embers.

No one dared move.

Any attempt to leave was met with warning shots from the recon team.

Even bathroom trips required an armed escort.

The battle was over.

The short but brutal war against the Seoul Survival Union had come to an end—one that felt far longer and bloodier than it actually was.

But survival was not yet secured.

A far more important task remained: the purge.

The next step wasn’t rebuilding. It was surgery—removing the rot before it could spread.

Yohan entered the burnt ruins of the recon camp for a final sweep.

He found Baek-jeong’s charred corpse and, as if performing a posthumous execution, drove his blade into it over and over.

Only then did victory feel real.

With a hardened expression, Yohan turned and walked toward the survivors.

Their gazes were mixed—some full of gratitude, others filled with resentment, fear, or uncertainty.

Originally, Yohan had planned to use Suhee and Jinsu’s case as a way to filter out those unfit for relocation to the second shelter. He intended to make them argue their cases, then side with Jinsu, eliminating anyone who opposed him.

But that plan was no longer necessary.

Half by design, half by circumstance, the battle had created a perfect test.

True character wasn’t revealed in peace.

It was shown through hardship.

Now, the test was over. Yohan had survived.

He stood before them, lifting a surgical tool.

It was time to cut away the infected flesh.

Those who had remained obedient.

Those who had witnessed everything.

Those who had survived.

And those who would carry out the purge without hesitation.

“Seo-jun.”

“Huh?”

“Step forward.”

Seo-jun, confused, walked ahead.

“Pick out everyone who is useless to the camp.”

“W-what?”

“Anyone who disobeyed orders. Anyone who refused to cooperate. Anyone whose actions endangered the camp. Anyone who betrayed their comrades. Every last one of them.”

Seo-jun stood stunned, unable to process what he had just heard.

He glanced at Yohan’s emotionless eyes.

And suddenly, a chilling thought crept into his mind.

Did Yohan already know everything?

Had he predicted this exact moment from the start?

“Even if it’s a camp leader?”

“It doesn’t matter. This camp is being abandoned. There will be no more leaders.”

“…Hah.”

Seo-jun sighed and nodded, turning sharply.

He pointed first at Marco and Suhee.

“Let’s deal with these Park Town bastards first.”

“Reason?”

“They sold out their own people.”

Marco and Suhee trembled violently.

This was the last situation they had wanted.

In truth, their actions weren’t just foolish—they were downright suicidal.

Even in a desperate situation, they should have considered the possibility of rescue.

They had gambled everything on survival.

And they had lost.

“Continue.”

Yohan’s command was simple.

Seo-jun continued without hesitation, identifying Gap-soo, his guards, and anyone who had openly resented Yohan’s rule.

He moved with certainty, showing no doubt in his selections.

He had no idea what Yohan planned to do with these people.

But he didn’t hesitate.

And finally—Seo-jun pointed to the girl hiding behind Jung-hwan.

Ah-young.

“Hold on a second, old man—”

“Sorry, but that girl put Jung-hwan and the others in danger.”

Jung-hwan moved to protest, but Yohan stopped him.

Once authority had been given, it wouldn’t be taken back.

The purge would be carried out to its conclusion.

If one person objected, the whole situation would spiral into another round of endless debate.

Jung-hwan hesitated, about to protest, but Yohan’s subtle gesture made him stop. When Yohan gave a slight nod, the recon team escorted Ah-young to the group of those who had been culled. Jung-hwan’s hands clenched, then fell limply to his sides.

A total of twenty people had been singled out.

Including those who had died in the battle, fewer than seventy survivors remained.

Yohan slowly scanned the gathered outcasts.

There were those who had caused major trouble, those who had stirred up minor conflicts, and those he had simply kept an eye on. Most of them had, in some way, drawn his attention before.

“Separate their families, lovers, and close friends as well.”

The surgery wasn’t over yet.

Yohan would remove any potential risks down to the roots. If they took anyone who had ties to these people, the risk of leaking information about the new shelter was too high.

Seo-jun, studying the list, methodically pointed out eight more people.

Once the selection was complete, Yohan stood before them.

The gun in his grip exuded a chilling presence.

The outcasts swallowed nervously.

It felt as though he might execute them on the spot.

Sensing the tension, Jung-hwan instinctively grabbed Yohan’s arm.

“Yohan-hyung.”

“Speak.”

“Ah-young… she had no choice. She’s just a student, how could we…?”

Yohan stared at him.

He already knew the situation. The only thing left was to decide.

“Can you take responsibility for her?”

Neither elaborated on what “responsibility” meant.

But Jung-hwan didn’t hesitate. He nodded firmly.

With a simple motion from Yohan, Ah-young staggered back to Jung-hwan’s side.

“Uh, uh…”

As expected, someone else spoke up.

It was a man who had been in the hospital camp since the early days—one of the longest-standing survivors, someone Yohan knew by both name and face.

Perhaps thinking Yohan had just shown leniency, the man stepped forward, trying to make his case.

“Come on, Yohan. Gap-soo at least contributed a lot to the camp. Can’t we reconsider? I’ll take responsibility for him—”

Yohan’s reply was cold.

He didn’t even bother using formal speech.

“Who do you think you are?”

“Huh?”

“Who are you to decide who takes responsibility? Some people still haven’t learned. Get him out of here.”

The stark difference in how he handled Jung-hwan and this man was unmistakable.

Before the man could even finish his argument, the recon team dragged him away, placing him with the others. He looked dumbfounded, his eyes flickering with disbelief as he faced the barrels of their rifles.

“W-what are you going to do with us?”

Gap-soo’s eyes darted around in panic.

Gone was the confidence of someone who had once held power in the camp.

“Nothing. We just won’t be staying together anymore.”

Yohan’s voice remained emotionless.

“We’re moving to a safer, more fortified location. You all can figure out how to survive on your own. But this camp will be handed over to someone else. If you want to stay, you’ll have to accept a new leader. And with the supplies gone, you’d be wise to comply.”

“Wait, what? You’re taking all the supplies?”

Yohan nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Not a single drop of water will be left behind. Any problems with that?”

“How are we supposed to survive? Yohan, please… have some mercy. This is too much.”

“Strange. Shouldn’t you be grateful I saved your lives?”

Yohan tilted his head slightly.

To him, their plea was entirely irrational.

“Our deal has ended. I provided supplies in exchange for your obedience. Since you refused to follow my commands, I have no obligation to provide for you. The only reason I even saved you was because I hadn’t officially declared our agreement void yet. I upheld my end until the very last moment.”

Trust is everything in a transaction.

With that final remark, the culled group fell silent.

The old mercenary watching from behind burst into laughter, clapping his hands.

“Well said!”

“One more time—this is where we part ways. It was… entertaining. Let’s not meet again.”

“W-wait…!”

“Elder, you can take them now.”

The old mercenary chuckled as he approached the group.

His physique and air of authority made the outcasts stiffen in fear.

He examined them like livestock, tilting their chins up, prodding their arms and legs. After a few moments, he turned back to Yohan.

“Sending me this many useless people seems a bit unfair, don’t you think? Feels like I’m getting the short end of the stick.”

“You misunderstand. These people aren’t part of the trade.”

“Oh?”

“The trade includes this camp, all zombie-related intelligence I promised, and two specific types of supplies. In return, you handle these people however you see fit. The information on mutant zombies is something you won’t find anywhere else.”

The old man let out an amused hum.

“I see… fair enough.”

“Take them all.”

As the mercenaries moved to round up the outcasts, Seo-jun suddenly interjected.

“Yohan, wait.”

Yohan paused, glancing at him.

“Most of these people, I don’t care. But those two—sending them away is dangerous.”

Seo-jun pointed at Marco and Suhee.

“They betrayed their own people. That makes them a liability.”

At his words, Yohan raised a hand, halting the mercenaries.

“Do you want them dead?”

“I think they should die.”

Marco and Suhee trembled violently.