It’s quite common for endings you expected to be exciting to turn out anticlimactic.
Ahn Seung-hwan and his friends acted like adults from before the war.
“Thank you so much for saving Haru.”
They bowed politely in front of , but when it ca to the important parts, they postponed and evaded ntioning them, slyly.
“······.”
I didn’t bother pressing them.
I could have persistently thrown questions at them, but that would’ve been foolish. It would only cause backlash.
“What a bunch of shaless bastards.”
One of Defender’s teammates voiced his resentnt, but it was expected.
Just seeing Ahn Seung-hwan bow stiffly with a displeased expression was enough satisfaction.
“But, Captain, can’t we just manage on our own without them? Honestly, as long as we have you, I think we can do just fine without them.”
One of Defender’s teammates asked .
He looked like a hunter who had never experienced the Chinese battlefield.
I stopped walking, turned to look at him and the other hunters, and said clearly.
“No. We absolutely need regular Awakened.”
And I ant it.
Without regular Awakened, we cannot win against monsters in the great monster wars.
This ti, it was only manageable because the mid-sized species we faced was Awakened-specialized. Normally, anything mid-sized or larger isn’t sothing our hunters can handle.
Mid-sized species are almost always built for combat.
And by “combat,” I don’t an the small skirmishes or hunts we usually do.
I’m talking about battlefield combat — overwhelming firepower and destruction.
Like the Annihilator type we fought before, they indiscriminately unleash destructive firepower over vast areas.
Without a reflective field shield, you wouldn’t even get close. You’d be vaporized.
In that rciless storm of fire, I would be just another helpless casualty.
“There’s no need to rush. We only succeeded in a single operation.”
The important thing is the possibility.
Proving that it’s possible to kill monsters even without regular Awakened.
If we keep proving it, the regular Awakened, hiding under the “Main” banner, will eventually have no choice but to unlock their doors and stand on the front lines with us.
Besides, the center of the incident has shifted away from us hunters.
Bang! Tatatatang!
Boom! Kwabang!
As the shopping mall — the main base of the fanatics — sank into explosions, the soldiers invaded the fanatic’s territory.
It’s more like a mop-up operation than a battle, but it’ll probably drag on.
That doesn’t an I’m any less busy.
I still have baggage to sort through.
There are things I need to throw away.
*
The house Woo Min-hee provided was a renovated old villa.
A small complex of four five-story buildings, the most intact place amidst the ruins of the area. Being an old construction, it even had a built-in bunker, which was why it was used as a governnt residence.
“This place is a real pri spot.”
The building manager joked as he guided .
Apparently, it was considered pri because there was a half-collapsed apartnt complex to the east.
When I asked if the sunlight being blocked wasn’t a bad thing, the manager waved his hands dismissively.
“If a bombardnt cos, that apartnt block will shield you.”
My governnt residence was on the 5th floor of one of the buildings. In the large, roughly cleaned space, all the belongings I brought were neatly packed in boxes.
I checked the condition of the place.
About 25 pyeong, by rough estimate.
Three rooms, two bathrooms — a typical Korean favorite layout. But with such a small area cramd with three rooms and two bathrooms, every space looked cramped.
One of the bathrooms had already been converted into a storage room because it was unusable. But the other bathroom — surprisingly — had functioning plumbing.
Swaaa—
I tested the shower, and the water pressure was insane.
Looks like they installed a new pump or sothing during renovations.
Although Woo Min-hee herself didn’t live here, I heard many of the important figures of the new Seoul did.
Including Kim Byeong-cheol, who was leading the fanatic purge, and even so regular Awakened — who were now avoiding — lived here.
Though unlike in Building B, the Awakened were clustered together in Building D, a little further away.
Unlike our building, theirs didn’t have an abandoned ghost apartnt complex blocking the view, but it also wouldn’t shield them from bombardnts. Well, they’re Awakened, so they’ll manage.
Before the war, the top floor was considered the “royal floor.”
Here, it’s different.
The 1st or 2nd floor is considered the royal floor.
Because there’s no elevator.
Anyway, there’s a lot of stuff.
I thought I hadn’t packed much — mostly guns, ammo, and food — but seeing it all piled up in the empty house made worry about how long it would take to sort through.
The stuff I brought falls into three main categories.
First is clothing.
I prepared a variety of cold-weather gear for the next big freeze.
Unlike when I was living in the bunker, I’d be doing a lot of outdoor activities, so I packed even things I didn’t strictly need.
Also, since soone else, not , was handling the transport, I didn’t hold back.
Cold-weather gear tends to be bulky, too, making it seem like even more.
I don’t really regret bringing it.
Rember — cold is humanity’s oldest and deadliest enemy from the dawn of ti.
The second category is, of course, internet equipnt.
Satellite gear.
Specifically, two units of “lon Mask’s Star-Gazing-Obelisk,” two laptops, transforrs, batteries — everything needed for a smart internet life.
Internet is now essential for — like another vital organ. So I’ll skip any further comntary.
But even the first and second categories are nothing compared to the third.
The third is junk.
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I used to be a master of tidying myself back in school.
Because I didn’t have much to tidy.
All family heirlooms were burned, and I had no possessions.
From the mont I entered school, I was prepared to die, so I hated accumulating junk.
But as I grew older, I accumulated property, and with more storage space, I started hoarding useless stuff in the bunker.
I justified it to myself — in tis of scarcity, anything might be needed.
But junk is junk, even in the apocalypse.
One of the pri examples was an outdoor event amp and speaker set.
I really want to go back in ti and ask myself why the hell I bought that.
Well, I’m sure I had so reason at the ti.
Despite being a hardcore individualist, I probably bought it envisioning a ti when I’d need to command a large group — a gaphone for survival.
Like morning calisthenics.
I imagined standing on a podium, leading dozens of survivors in synchronized exercises, with a trained instructor demonstrating.
No doubt my old ntor Jang Ki-young’s influence played a role.
His morning drill calls were legendary — on par with the classic national calisthenics.
Oh, and there was another idea.
When death was imminent, set up the giant speaker outdoors, crank it to max volu, and broadcast a will to the world.
“······.”
Yeah. Better turn this into supplies.
Besides the giant speaker, I had lots more junk.
Like the 12-piece Whale-Shark plushie set.
Twelve plushies — different whales and sharks.
When I looked closer, the quality was surprisingly good.
Made in Korea, even.
But why the hell did I buy it?
Even asking my past self wouldn’t get an answer.
Maybe I didn’t even pay for it?
Even though my past self had a bad habit of impulse buying — and losing his humanity the day he applied for credit card revolving paynts — this is still a mystery.
At least the “King’s Jar” I bought for 550,000 won from a departnt store had decorative value.
Speaking of which, I brought that jar too.
It probably won’t sell well, but maybe I can trade it for so sugar or dicine.
Originally, I hadn’t planned to bring junk.
The initial plan was to move with just my body.
Weapons, food, and supplies were supposed to be provided by Woo Min-hee.
And when I first packed, it was only those first two categories — I hadn’t even touched the junk.
But when the helicopter pilot asked for a brief delay, I ended up idly thinking of the junk in my garage and hurriedly shoved it all into the helicopter.
New Seoul would have lots of people, and it seed like a waste not to try trading it for sothing useful.
While I was sweating bullets, adjusting and readjusting the Obelisk to catch the best cosmic signal, soone knocked on the door.
Knock, knock—
Maybe the manager.
Recalling the old days of ordering delivery in my container house, I opened the door — and sure enough, hot food appeared.
“Here’s your late-night snack. The support team specially sent it for you.”
Probably Woo Min-hee.
She has personality issues, but she’s very straightforward about showing gratitude.
Although it’s extrely rare for her to feel grateful.
Still, if even Woo Min-hee feels thankful, it ans things are going much better than I expected.
Saving even one more regular Awakened isn’t just a favor — it’s a fate tied to New Seoul, sitting right under the Rifts.
The food was fried chicken and potatoes.
Given the circumstances, you couldn’t expect fancy seasoned batter, but maybe because I hadn’t had fried food in ages, it tasted amazing.
Co to think of it, my territory ran out of cooking oil ages ago.
I did have a small stash, but I neither liked oily food nor had ingredients left to cook, so I didn’t stock much.
Bang Jae-hyuk’s mother brought a little oil, but that was for them.
For special occasions.
So it’s better to have so of my own.
[ Cooking oil ]
Saved it in my phone.
Sothing to aim for when bartering the junk.
Since currency has beco aningless, most trades are barter.
In the early war, cigarettes replaced money, but they expire quickly and burn away.
When cigarettes disappeared, ammo took over as barter, but ammo isn’t that different.
Both kill, both are consud.
“Bartering, huh?”
The next day, I asked the manager about a place to trade.
No surprise — a marketplace had sprung up under The Hope.
Said to have a decent variety of goods.
I went back to the apartnt and looked at the junk piled up in the cramped living room.
Still aningless junk.
*
Woooooom—
Woooooom---
I woke up early at dawn.
The familiar sound of demons falling from the sky.
A borrowed phrase from Chinese soldiers on the battlefield.
Those abandoned to daily shelling used it.
I opened my eyes on schedule.
Boom! Kaboom!!!
Shells were falling.
Wheeeeeeeeeoooooo—
The ergency siren wailed only after the shells hit.
Woooooom—
Woooooom---
Judging by the sound, it wasn’t so low-tier warlord the Dies Irae guys used to fight.
A warlord with a proper artillery unit.
I got dressed imdiately and checked the situation.
Boom! Kaboom!
Shells kept falling.
Didn’t seem like it would end soon.
Evacuation first.
Naturally, I grabbed the internet equipnt first.
Then cold-weather clothes.
The rest — abandoned.
After all, it was just junk.
Woooooo—
Shells fell nearby.
Thunk!
A shockwave rattled from the building next door.
*
Turns out the shelling overnight was from a fanatic-friendly warlord.
Retaliation after the Hanam fanatics got wiped out.
Of course, the governnt won’t sit still either.
They’ll strike back sohow.
Not hunters' business — soldiers’ business.
“Senior, are you okay? No injuries?”
Woo Min-hee contacted as I climbed the stairs of the battered building.
Checking for anything salvageable.
“I’m fine. But what’s with you suddenly worrying about ?”
“Because I have high expectations for you, Senior.”
“Really?”
“So work even harder now, Um Chang-ah.”
“Um Chang-ah? A new hunter...?”
Before I could say anything, the comms cut.
Woo Min-hee, trying to officially rena Um Chang-ah.
Which, well, isn’t wrong.
I smiled wryly as I headed back to my place — and stopped.
Soone was there.
Soone I didn’t know.
The wry smile disappeared.
I raised my pistol and slowly showed myself.
Kids.
Filthy, grimy kids.
Orphans or refugees.
In any case, ragged kids playing with my junk.
The King’s Jar and the big speaker were smashed, but the 12-piece plushie set survived.
The kids were playing with the plushies.
With pure, joyful faces.
“Uh, is this your house, mister?”
One kid asked, fear mixing into their voice as they spotted .
Seeing their fleeting smiles — smiles I thought I might never see again — I spoke.
“······Take them.”
With a short sentence, I turned away.
The kids, each clutching a plushie, glanced at nervously, then left.
As soon as they disappeared from view, their laughter exploded.
In that clear, radiant laughter, I unconsciously let out a breath.
“Ah.”
I finally rembered.
I bought those plushies for hoarding.
They were limited editions of a famous series.
I had planned to resell them at a premium.
“······.”
Unintentional, but a fitting resale.
The faint smile on my lips was the receipt.
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