When I was young, I used to answer calls from unknown numbers.
There was a subtle hope lodged in my untainted heart that the owner of an unknown number might be soone dear to , soone I had forgotten.
But as internet scams and advertisents beca rampant, and people increasingly shifted to using social dia or ssaging apps instead of phone calls, unknown numbers grew distant from . By the ti I returned to Korea, I almost never answered them.
Most of the ti, answering ant dealing with pointless calls like advertisents or surveys. Occasionally, there were unsettling offers that bordered on treason or criminal activity.
Sohow, there were people who knew personal information about —details that should have been top secret—and called directly. These were likely Chinese agents or brokers working under their orders, contacting on my old number with the generic proposal of visiting China.
But those calls never caused much trouble.
Like a seasoned debtor, I used three different phones, and the one with my old number was always switched off. Most of those malicious calls went to that phone.
However, I couldn’t help but wonder—what would it feel like to receive a call from an unknown number during the apocalypse?
Last night, after finishing my shower, I was soaking so dried rations in water for dinner when it happened.
A call ca in from an unknown personal identification number.
Personal Identification Number: 7_CORP_CMD
I didn’t answer it.
*
Unlike before the war, it’s now nearly impossible to deduce soone’s identity just from their personal identification number.
Let’s assu there’s soone out there.
This person knows the Professor-era Park Gyu but is unaware of the Skelton-era Park Gyu. They don’t even know that Park Gyu uses the internet.
If this mysterious person were to contact via the K-Walkie Talkie that issues personal identification numbers, they’d likely try to reach with an ID like PROFESSOR.
If that doesn’t work, they might add numbers after "Professor," or attach my birth year, or maybe my cohort number from school.
But under no circumstances could this person deduce that my personal identification number is SKELOTN.
The sa applies to .
Just from seeing an unknown personal identification number, I can’t figure out who the caller is. Unless, of course, they use sothing blatant, like writing their actual na, as Kim Daram does.
For these reasons, I had no idea who this 7_CORP_CMD was.
Still, the personal identification number itself seed to carry so aning.
Translated into Korean, it roughly ant "7th Corps Command."
The 7th Corps was hastily ford during North Korea’s collapse to secure key locations, mainly using reservists and contract soldiers.
The 7th Corps swiftly occupied Pyongyang and Kaesong, which had beco unclaid territories, but the devastation in North Korea was so severe that they had no choice but to retreat with just their personnel. The corps beca obsolete and was eventually disbanded.
So why would a disbanded corps’ walkie-talkie pinpoint my personal identification number to contact ?
I didn’t have a good feeling about this.
My thoughts turned to Kim Daram.
She was one of the few people who knew my personal identification number and was also associated with the military. It was possible that she had gotten hold of an unused walkie-talkie from the Corps faction and was using it to contact .
Beep-beep-beep
The walkie-talkie rang again.
This unique tone signified an incoming call to my personal identification number.
I checked the caller.
Personal Identification Number: 7_CORP_CMD
Sa number as before.
My conclusion was clear.
I shouldn’t answer.
The best way to protect myself from Kim Daram was to act as if I were a dead man. That’s why I had gone to the trouble of digging a decoy bunker nearby.
Beep-beep-beep
The call persisted for a while.
It disconnected once, only to resu after a brief interval.
Beep-beep-beep
Should I just turn off the walkie-talkie for a bit?
Just as I was considering this, the caller used one of the K-Walkie Talkie’s lesser-known functions.
Beep-beep-beep beep-beep-beep beep-beep-beep
Morse code.
The K-Walkie Talkie has a feature that allows communication via Morse code in case the microphone is broken. It even translates incoming Morse code into readable text on the display, so people who don’t know Morse can still use it.
The prolonged sequence of beeps translated into the following ssage:
"I am B.
The situation is not good.
My son has caught on.
I contacted you before going there.
This is an urgent situation. Please respond."
Seeing that ssage, I began to wonder if the person calling wasn’t Kim Daram after all.
The Kim Daram I know would either show up in person if I didn’t answer or hold a grudge. She would never resort to sothing as indirect and ticulous as Morse code.
Beep-beep-beep
The signal rang out again.
What should I do?
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that even if it was Kim Daram, it might be better to answer. If she was this persistent, she would stop at nothing to find . She could already be in my vicinity.
Before answering, I cautiously scanned my surroundings with the periscope.
Nothing. No signs of movent.
Finally, after much deliberation, I picked up the walkie-talkie that had disrupted the stillness of my bunker and accepted the call.
The mont I connected, the walkie-talkie emitted a booming voice that was almost loud enough to make the device vibrate.
“Why the hell haven’t you been answering?”
The voice was a mix of irritation and exasperation, but it carried a certain strength and solidity, characteristic of a middle-aged man.
One thing was certain—it was a voice I didn’t recognize.
I responded, puzzled.
“Who are you? Why are you calling ?”
The man’s reply was laced with confusion.
“Who are you?”
“Pardon?”
“Oh, never mind! Put Yu-gyeong on the line!”
“Yu-gyeong?”
“Aren’t you Jeon Yu-gyeong?”
“No, I’m not.”
It was almost comical—a case of mistaken contact during the apocalypse, of all tis. And not with an easily confused number, but with an alphabet-based personal identification system.
I smirked at the absurdity of it and waited for the man’s next words.
“Why is so random guy answering? Where’s Jeon Yu-gyeong?!”
His tone grew louder.
While I wasn’t exactly lacking in temper, it didn’t seem like yelling would resolve anything. So I kept my voice calm and replied.
“Who are you, then? Take a breath and explain what’s going on. I think there’s been a misunderstanding, so let’s clear it up.”
The man seed to acknowledge the reasonableness of my words. After taking a mont to collect himself, he responded in a much more composed tone.
“This is Lieutenant General Bang Soo-byeon, Commander of the 7th Corps.”
7th Corps? Bang Soo-byeon?
I didn’t recognize the na, but I knew the 7th Corps had been disbanded.
“The 7th Corps was dissolved.”
“It’s been revived under the Corps Faction. Surely you’ve heard of them?”
“Oh, yes. I’m familiar.”
“Anyway, I’ve identified myself. Now it’s your turn. Who are you, and why do you have Yu-gyeong’s walkie-talkie?”
“My na is Baek Seung-hyun. I’m a freelance hunter.”
I felt a twinge of guilt about using Baek Seung-hyun’s na, but he was far out of the Corps Faction’s reach. He was a real person, after all, and if anything, his current internet fa was partly thanks to .
With a hint of shalessness, I continued.
“I don’t know who this Yu-gyeong person is. I obtained this walkie-talkie through my own ans.”
“You expect to believe that?”
“Well, believe it or not, it’s the truth. Now, who exactly is this Yu-gyeong? Is she your wife? Your daughter?”
“She’s not my daughter.”
“Your wife?”
"Ah, that’s not really important," Bang Soo-byeon muttered, letting his sentence trail off. But from his tone, I could guess what kind of woman Jeon Yu-gyeong might be.
Most likely, she was a mistress.
I had heard before that it was almost fashionable among Corps Faction generals to have at least one mistress.
Regardless of my assumptions, Bang Soo-byeon on the other end of the line was just as full of questions as I was.
“How in the world did you get your hands on that walkie-talkie? If you’re a freelance hunter, then you’re an Old-School Hunter. And back before the war, Old-School Hunters were never issued Korean-made walkie-talkies.”
In response, I gave him a brief explanation of how, back in the days when Seoul was still intact, I had pulled strings to acquire the walkie-talkie and had been assigned a personal identification number by soone in Gukwiwon.
Of course, I didn’t ntion that Kim Daram was the one who issued the ID. Instead, I dropped the na Lee Sang-hoon.
“Lee Sang-hoon? Oh.”
Bang Soo-byeon’s reaction made it clear he knew the na.
“That arrogant bastard.”
“...”
“Wait a second.”
He seed to be gathering his thoughts.
“Scarlet… wasn’t it?”
Hearing that word, I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“That doesn’t seem to have anything to do with Skelton.”
“I’m not sure why, but it’s sothing I’ve seen often. Anyway, I’ll try contacting the ID Scarlet.”
Without waiting for my response, Bang Soo-byeon abruptly ended the call.
It was clear that the Corps Faction generals prided themselves on their high status, and Bang Soo-byeon seed no different in his deanor.
Not long after, the man who had briefly disrupted the quiet of my bunker reached out again. Another call—practically a form of harassnt.
I really didn’t want to answer, but I did.
“Seems like you really are Skelton, huh?”
“No. I already told you I’m not. What do I need to say to convince you? Should I pretend to be Jeon Yu-gyeong?”
“I tried contacting Scarlet, but there was no response. Judging by the incoming signal patterns, the number is either inactive or the walkie-talkie is turned off.”
“You didn’t think it could simply be turned off?”
“Impossible. Do you know what kind of person Yu-gyeong is? She’s not like other won. She only listens to , always pays attention to my words, and treats with absolute sincerity. Unlike those untrustworthy subordinates, that venomous wife of mine, or the children she brainwashed.”
“Ah, I see...”
At this point, it beca obvious. Jeon Yu-gyeong was Bang Soo-byeon’s mistress, and he was utterly infatuated with her—to the point of badmouthing his wife and children in comparison.
That explained why he had been so relentless in trying to contact .
At least now I was sure this man wasn’t Kim Daram.
“Be honest with , Mr. Baek Seung-hyun. Is Jeon Yu-gyeong with you?”
The K-Walkie Talkie had a special feature. It could calculate the approximate distance to the other party by reverse-engineering the signal, using built-in formulas. This function, while mainly useful on shared frequencies, also worked well for dealing with soone like Bang Soo-byeon, who was no different from a random stranger on a shared channel.
Currently, the distance between us was in the dium range—at least 50 kiloters apart.
Bang Soo-byeon must have been aware of this, too.
“You know how to check the distance using the walkie-talkie, right?”
“I know. I already checked before calling.”
“Then why accuse of sothing I didn’t do? If you don’t believe , why not take so of your subordinates and check either my place or Jeon Yu-gyeong’s? You’re a general, aren’t you? Surely you have a few lackeys to spare. If you find at her place, then fine, do whatever you want—make sashimi out of or bury alive. Just go and check for yourself!”
I had been trying to stay polite since he was a general, but by the end of my outburst, my emotions got the better of .
Whether it was because of my strong language or because he realized his own rashness, Bang Soo-byeon changed his tone to one of politeness.
“Mr. Baek Seung-hyun. No, Hunter Baek Seung-hyun.”
“...What is it now?”
“I know I was rude earlier, and I apologize. Truly. But I need to ask for your help. You said you’re a hunter, right? A real one, not so fake Awakened Guard?”
When people start being nice all of a sudden, it’s usually because they want sothing. And I could already tell where this was going.
Bang Soo-byeon continued, seemingly embodying that universal truth.
“Could you go to Jeon Yu-gyeong’s place for ? I’d go myself if I could, but I’m not in a position to do so right now. And judging by the distance, it’s not that far from you. I’ll compensate you—seriously! I’ll stake my na, Bang Soo-byeon, on it.”
Of course, he was asking for a favor.
“I sent a female soldier to her hideout. Along with enough supplies to last her until the monsters finish their rampage and retreat back into their rifts. Luxury goods, a luxury car, wine, food, dicine, electronics, fuel—you na it, she’s got it. Enough to last a lifeti.”
“...”
“All I’m asking is for you to go to the location I provide and check if she’s there. See if she’s alive, dead, or...”
“And if there’s another man there, what should I do?”
Even I thought my question was a bit cheeky, but it was a plausible scenario.
Surprisingly, Bang Soo-byeon didn’t get angry. He simply responded with calm determination.
“Then report it to . I’ll co there myself, and I’ll reward you personally. You don’t need to do anything else—just report back. It’s reconnaissance, nothing more. It’s not a military zone, and from what I know, the only person guarding her is that female soldier.”
“No monsters? No gang hangouts?”
“No. It’s an empty wasteland around her location.”
Based on his description, it didn’t sound like a particularly dangerous task.
Not that I was overly eager about the reward, but the idea of building a connection with soone of his status—an officer in the Corps Faction—was appealing.
If I had ties with soone like him, even Kim Daram wouldn’t be able to touch .
Still, judging from the Morse code ssage, his situation didn’t seem all that stable either. I’d probably get more details once I started working on the request.
“Where is it?”
At the very least, it’d be more productive than killing ti in the bunker.
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