Chapter 92
Entering the room, Shin Hae-jun took a deep breath, savoring the clean air that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He glanced around the room and noticed air purifiers placed in various locations.
Outside, there was barely enough electricity to turn on a single light bulb, yet this place spewed out clean air as if completely detached from that world. Yes, this was a clean zone, untouched by the apocalypse.
Shin Hae-jun approached Shin Gi-tae, sitting alone on the plush armchair in the middle of the room.
“Loyal greetings, Commander.”
After saluting, he stood behind Shin Gi-tae and spoke.
“You summoned me?”
A long silence followed, but Shin Hae-jun was accustomed to bearing it. He thought to himself, our divine Commander must be up to his antics again.
“Shin Hae-jun.”
Finally breaking the stillness, Shin Gi-tae’s voice flowed out, aged but not worn from his loosened vocal cords. He continued speaking.
“What have you been up to lately?”
After a moment’s contemplation, Shin Hae-jun replied readily.
“I’ve been verifying the research institute location you mentioned. I’ve narrowed it down to a few candidate areas, so I should be able to show you the results you want soon.”
“Is that what I asked?”
“…I’m not sure which part you’re referring to. If you clarify, I will correct it.”
“Min Ahyeon.”
Ah, of course.
Shin Hae-jun had expected Shin Gi-tae to bring up Ahyeon eventually, but this was sooner than anticipated. He tensed his jaw.
“Do you remember what I said about her when she first enlisted?”
“You told me to watch her.”
“And what did that mean?”
“It meant to keep an eye on her, to keep her close.”
“And yet.”
Shin Gi-tae calmly turned his chair to face Shin Hae-jun directly.
“You kept her close?”
“My apologies.”
Shin Hae-jun’s matter-of-fact response didn’t seem to sit well with Shin Gi-tae. His wrinkled lips tensed slightly, contorting.
“Why, did your heart waver?”
Shin Hae-jun was mildly surprised, but remained silent, judging that Shin Gi-tae couldn’t possibly know his heart. As if confirming this assumption, Shin Gi-tae continued speaking.
“Did your heart falter because of her unwavering resolve to venture out alone into this dangerous world to find her brother?”
“No, sir.”
“Then?”
“I thought there was no need. I judged that Lieutenant Min, solely focused on her missing brother, had no value as a sharpshooter.”
Shin Gi-tae let out a low hum as he looked up at Shin Hae-jun. Shin Hae-jun maintained his stoic demeanor, conveying a sense of trustworthiness—an impression that he was not currently being dishonest. Shin Gi-tae raised his eyes slightly.
“Then what is the reason that aligns with that now?”
“I assessed that her brother could be used to win her over, and my assessment was correct. Lieutenant Min is still capable of carrying out many missions.”
“So,”
Shin Gi-tae chuckled.
“So don’t kill her.”
“……”
Shin Hae-jun’s hands clenched slightly behind his back. He barely suppressed his quickening breath. He must not reveal his emotions here. If he did, Ahyeon, too, could end up like Baek Je-ha.
So Shin Hae-jun replied in a flat, emotionless tone.
“She is still useful.”
“That’s for me to judge, not General Shin.”
“She has provided great help on the battlefield.”
“There are likely many subordinates who could provide that much help.”
Shin Gi-tae flicked his index finger. Shin Hae-jun familiarly took out a cigarette from his pocket, placed it in Shin’s mouth, and lit it for him. With the flick of the lighter’s red flame, Shin’s youthful eyes flashed.
“Next time.”
Staring at Shin Hae-jun’s profile, he spoke.
“I’ll make the decision then.”
Standing at ease again, Shin Hae-jun searched within himself for the hundreds of things he wanted to say, but could not voice any of them. For he had been trained that way, designed to live that way.
Watching the cigarette smoke dissipate, Shin Hae-jun blinked slowly. And he thought, I want to see Min Ahyeon.
🕂
“Yes, yes. Just be careful for now. No, I know you helped, but still, be careful.”
I went around the Gwanak shelter, finding the people I knew one by one and warning them in turn.
“After surviving this far, haven’t you realized anything? You can’t trust people. How many died from trusting others? So please, please be wary of Savior, okay?”
It was my own concern, a plea born of worry. So most people agreed with me to some extent and added that they would be cautious of Savior.
However, the young woman raising twin children, Yoo Min-ji, did not agree with my words.
“Ahyeon. I know. I know how much we’ve suffered because of people, how many were killed and injured.”
“Then why…”
“But in the end, it’s also true we survived thanks to those people.”
Her idealistic words made me feel dizzy. People like her were likely to start a fight rather than be persuaded.
“For me, Ahyeon,”
Then, Min-ji’s voice came again.
“I choose to trust people rather than be wary of them.”
She was now firmly holding the hands of her twin toddlers who had grown big enough to start walking.
“Just like how you saved my children’s lives, Ahyeon.”
The twins’ hands were so tiny and pale, as if untouched by the world’s blemishes.
“We’ll see you next time.”
🕂
As I left the Gwanak Shelter, I muttered to myself, feeling uneasy.
Yoo Min-ji was one of the survivors I rescued two years ago. She was part of the group I saved from scavengers—those who were going to hold children hostage, rape women, and kill men… Or more precisely, I saved the children.
In any case, back then I put a bullet in each scavenger’s head, and Min-ji briefly shed tears in front of her dying husband before thanking me. That’s why it’s more memorable—the whole process unfolded so smoothly. Among all the helpless people I’d seen until then, Min-ji was the first and last to react that calmly.
“Thank you, mercenary.”
Perhaps she had always accepted death in her heart. Her husband’s death was expected, and maybe she had accepted her own death too.
But as soon as she saw her children, she burst into tears, as if she couldn’t bring herself to accept their deaths. She had given up life as a human, but couldn’t give up being a mother.
In a way, it was foolish, but in another way, it was admirable. She chose a life protecting her child. And to show that child a future human society overflowing with mutual trust…she would even trust Savior. Understanding her heart to some degree, I didn’t try to convince Min-ji further. Instead, I just told Yong-tae to keep a close watch.
“If you thoroughly search the research base, you’ll find the space I mentioned. Just bring the data from there.”
“Then I’ll tell you about Savior.”
I recalled the woman’s words.
So, I had some concerns. Should I tell Shin Hae-jun about this, or not?
If I spoke up, there might be suspicions of collusion with the revolutionary forces, and he could be dragged into danger—even though I didn’t think Hae-jun would do that. But further, he could be at risk too…
For now, it seemed better to keep my mouth shut until I had a clearer understanding of the situation.
‘What would happen to my relationship with Hae-jun if I fully sided with the revolutionary forces?’
The sudden thought sent shivers down my spine. What relationship? What kind of connection did we have? We weren’t even close.
“Ah, you’re crazy, crazy. Min Ahyeon.”
Slapping my cheeks a few times, I took a deep breath and looked out onto the main road. I remembered he said he’d come pick me up around this time… As I thought about it, I heard the rumbling of an engine not far away. It didn’t sound like just any car, but what could it be?
Rumbling closer and closer, soon a motorcycle stopped in front of me.
And, of course, Shin Hae-jun was riding the motorcycle.
“Hey, get on.”
“…..”
I looked up at the sky for a moment, then back at Hae-jun wearing goggles.
“You really do a lot of things.”
No one was watching us, but I felt a surge of embarrassment nonetheless, so I covered my face.
🕂
Thank you for reading! ♡
