Chapter 175

               

After reaching a deserted spot, Sweeper caught his breath. Now that he was away, he couldn’t help but think of the guy he’d left behind as bait.

‘No way he’ll actually die.’

Sweeper tried to ignore it. He didn’t seem like someone who’d be caught so easily, and he was the one who tried to kill Sweeper anyway. It was too steep a price for guilt.

Sweeper moved quickly. Now that he’d caused a commotion, he was exposed to danger too. He still had to find Bora while dodging both zombies and Goldmoon survivors who would recognize his voice.

‘Things should be fine for a while.’

That’s what he thought. But was it a miscalculation? The uneasy feeling didn’t leave him, even as he circled to the back of a store and headed for the basement. Then Sweeper realized what was wrong.

There was no noise.

That guy had a gun and was clearly a formidable person. His opponents were dozens of Goldmoon survivors.

They’d swarmed right away, so there should’ve been a big fight—so why was it this quiet?

‘Something’s off.’

He didn’t have long to think. A survivor who spotted him started shouting, making the quiet department store shake with activity.

“He’s here! Over here!”

“…Damn it.”

Sweeper swore and turned to run.

Why was everything going wrong? Was that guy part of them after all?

No, that couldn’t be. He’d seen him *killing* Goldmoon survivors with his own eyes.

Footsteps and radio chatter echoed everywhere. He could sense the tightening net around him.

“Get him!”

One rushed in case Sweeper tried to flee. Sweeper punched him hard in the jaw, enough to make his own hand sting.

After knocking one out, Sweeper jumped over the railing. In a darker spot, he smashed another man’s face with his axe, then spotted a man aiming a gun at him and dodged by reflex.

“Kill him if you have to, don’t let him get away!”

Someone shouted. As a gun was aimed his way, Sweeper darted in and clubbed the man in the neck before he could react.

Tucking the unconscious man under his arm, Sweeper grabbed his rifle and threatened the others. They hesitated, but didn’t loosen the net. Sweeper scowled.

“Out of the way if you don’t want to die.”

“If you run, I’ll kill you myself.”

A guy who looked like a mid-boss growled, and the others edged closer.

Sweeper turned his rifle on the mid-boss.

Then a thin, familiar scream rang out.

Sweeper instantly snapped his gaze toward the sound. He couldn’t see her, but it was definitely Bora’s voice.

While distracted, someone tried a sneak attack. Sweeper dodged and slammed the attacker in the face with the rifle butt, sending him flying.

“What are you doing? Rush him all at once!”

Too many figures came at him all at once. Dropping the unconscious man, Sweeper racked the rifle, braced it, and pulled the trigger at the charging enemies.

Click.

A hollow sound.

No bullets.

“What the…….”

A blow landed with a clang, and his head rang.

The world went dark.

—

It didn’t take long for Sweeper to regain consciousness. The rough hands making his limbs tingle brought him back.

He came to just as a heavy blow landed on his back with a thud.

The pain cleared his mind and thoughts raced.

‘…I’m screwed.’

He rarely lost his composure, but this time was different. Getting caught like this was unthinkable.

How could everything go so wrong?

He blinked a few times, and his vision cleared. The man he’d seen earlier was sitting across from him, looking at him with a disgusted expression.

What, I got caught? For a second I thought I was dead.

Sweeper decided to acknowledge him.

“Hey, man. We’ve met, right?”

“Shut up, you bastard.”

“Hey, watch your mouth. Aren’t you sorry you got me caught? Why’d you attack me anyway?”

“I had no guarantee you weren’t with them.”

Sweeper retorted on impulse.

“Your judgment sucks. Look at me—do I look like a gangster?”

He was beyond annoyed. The other guy was about to reply when the door opened and a line of men in suits entered. The executive came in at the center.

Sweeper ground his teeth at the sight of that infuriating face. The executive dragged over a chair and sat in front of him.

“Oh, our Sweeper friend. Long time no see. Didn’t I say I’d kill you if you ever came back?”

“If you’d given me back what’s mine, I wouldn’t have come.”

The executive slapped Sweeper hard across the face, the sound echoing. Sweeper spat out bloodied saliva.

“This time, I’ll make sure we have real fun. You’ll wish you were dead, friend.”

He pinched Sweeper’s cheek and turned away.

‘I’ll kill you myself.’

The root of all this. For the first time in ages, Sweeper felt pure, personal murderous intent.

As the executive walked away, a gun was shoved in his face, threatening to shoot at the slightest provocation. Sweeper rolled his eyes.

The situation was dire, but as long as he kept his wits about him, he’d be okay. Just focus.

“Who are you, sneaking into our camp uninvited?”

The executive turned to the other intruder.

“I was wandering the area. Just looking for something edible. Sorry to intrude.”

“You’re too clean to be a vagrant.”

“I was lucky enough to wash up at a nearby house.”

“Ah, good. It’s important to keep yourself together. …You had a gun. Why didn’t you resist?”

Wait, he *didn’t* resist?

Sweeper’s eyes widened. He’d figured the guy just lost a fight, not that he gave up. Judging from the earlier fight, he hadn’t looked weak.

What a lunatic. Surrendering, knowing what these guys are like? Didn’t he have business here?

Sweeper had a lot to say but stayed quiet—the exchange was too interesting. The guy spoke smoothly, like a real gentleman, persuading the executive to accept him as a subordinate. His total 180 from before was almost unrecognizable.

“I’ll give you a chance to work under me.”

The executive seemed pleased, coaxing the intruder. Sweeper sneered.

No way that guy would ever serve anyone. It was obvious he had something up his sleeve. But the executive, blinded by his ego, bought it.

Sure enough, the man—who introduced himself as Yohan—naturally led them toward the gun shop.

‘Idiots. There’s no way any guns are left there. They’ve long since been taken.’

Of course, the executive probably didn’t believe him either. He just wanted to see if he was sincere before deciding whether to keep him around.

“Come back later. Only you stay; the rest, grab your weapons and come with me.”

“Should I call in the outside guards too?”

“No. Let them keep watch.”

Satisfied, the executive laughed and left. His men filed out with him.

The man left to watch them slouched at the door as soon as the executive was gone, lighting a cigarette.

Once everyone left, Yohan let out a small sigh. Then Sweeper’s voice chimed in with sarcasm.

“You’re a real brown-noser, you know.”

“Just focus on the situation.”

Sweeper sighed at Yohan’s sudden change in demeanor. He was like a chameleon, switching attitudes instantly.

While Sweeper clicked his tongue, Yohan stayed silent, waiting. Even when Sweeper tried to make small talk, he got no response. He couldn’t figure out what Yohan was thinking.

An hour or two passed. The guard left the room. There was the sound of the door being locked from outside.

Yohan, still tied up, started to struggle to take off his shoe. Sweeper cocked his head.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Yohan ignored him and focused on his shoe. Once he got it off, a razor blade hidden in his sock appeared. He awkwardly pulled both feet back, reaching it with his fingers.

It looked ridiculous, but he managed to grab the blade.

After that, it was quick work. Yohan cut the ropes binding his hands and feet, dusted himself off, and stood up.

“Huh, huh?”

“Surprised? Never seen someone escape before?”

“Wow, you really keep stuff like that on you?”

“You never know what’ll happen these days.”

Yohan put a finger to his lips and Sweeper fell silent. He tore the lining of his clothes, wrapped it around his hand, and pulled a fishing line from his other shoe. Then, footsteps sounded outside. The door opened, and Yohan instantly looped the fishing line around the guard’s neck and pulled.

“Gkk, gkhh…”

Yohan squeezed with all his strength. The man struggled and then slumped. Yohan checked for breathing, pulled a knife from the corpse, and stabbed the man’s brain. Then he thoroughly searched the body, finding a radio.

Sweeper watched, jaw dropped. The man’s movements were just like a well-trained agent. He was getting more and more curious about him.

“Did you really have to kill him?”

“Once someone lays hands on me, it’s all self-defense.”

Now *that’s* an answer I like.

Yohan replied while prying open the vent cover. He ripped open the locked vent with brute force.

“Wow, that’s seriously cool.”

He seemed arrogant, but there was definite charisma. He reminded Sweeper of his mentor, the head of headquarters. Code name Messiah.

Sweeper looked at Yohan with growing excitement. With everyone outside, it was the perfect chance to rescue Bora.

But Yohan didn’t even glance at him as he squeezed into the narrow vent.

“Wait, man!”

Yohan glanced back. What is it?

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Hm? No.”

“What about me? Aren’t you going to untie me?”

“Why should I?”

“Come on, don’t be so cold. Just untie me once. Bro—no, hyung, please. I’ll die if you leave me here. You saw what happened!”

Yohan frowned at Sweeper’s sudden shift in attitude.

“Why are you suddenly so polite?”

“Come on, hyung.”

“Be glad I didn’t kill you. I’m leaving you alive because I have a use for you.”

“A use…?”

“If they ask where I went, say I escaped to the roof through the vent. If you’re still alive after they finish their hunt, I’ll let you go.”

“Hyung! Hey!”

Yohan shot out through the open vent.

Forget what I said about him being cool, that bastard!