03. The Enemy Is Invisible to the Eye
Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.
[Hebrews 13:16]
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Chapter 63
Shin Gi-tae is standing in front of a mirror. The smooth, flawless mirror without any scratches or dents is a luxury item that is hard to obtain in such a disastrous situation. However, there were dozens of such mirrors in his room. Hand mirrors, dressing table mirrors, wall mirrors, full-length mirrors… it was almost as if the room was made for mirrors, with mirrors everywhere. Shin Gi-tae looked at himself in the mirror. His neatly combed gray hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and tidy military uniform.
After staring at his own reflection in the mirror for a while, Shin Gi-tae turned and walked towards the recliner placed in the center of the room. Sitting on the recliner, he lit a cuban cigar he had in his mouth.
Being here, one doesn’t have to think about what state the world is in, how horrible it is, or whether there is hope or not. Everything is just the same as it was in the past.
The past, that is, before the world met its demise.
When the well-fed mocked the poor, and the haves boasted about the abundance of the world in front of the have-nots.
When the turtles’ bellies were filled with plastic bags instead of eco-friendly bags, and people hoarded dozens of stainless steel tumblers in an attempt to replace plastic straws, the main culprits of environmental pollution.
When air-conditioned air poured out of the wide-open doors of cosmetics stores adorned with campaign slogans asking for help for children dying in the heat.
When space travel packages circulated among the privileged while children from developing countries played on garbage-filled shores.
When water bottled with the essence of the Alps mountains sold for $100 and was still out of stock. When they gave up purifying the Ganges River.
Yes, those were the good times.
Of course, Shin Gi-tae belonged to the privileged class back then and even now. However, then and now are different. The privileged class now merely gets a few extra ammunition clips, or at most sleeps in a relatively safe area, or at most eats farmed meat, and that’s about it.
‘I miss those times.’
However, he did not end that longing with sadness, because he had hope. Hope that the world would not have met its demise in this way. Even if it did, the confident hope that he at least would endure until the end in this place. Such hopes.
Shin Gi-tae was convinced. That he would checkmate in this endgame chess board.
“Now, shall I go out?”
After finishing the cigar, he put the cigar back in its case and stood up. Tap, tap. The unworn heels of his shoes crisply tapped the marble floor. Walking with an unwavering rhythm towards the door, he suddenly turned to look at the mirrors.
The mirrors reflected the 60-year-old Shin Gi-tae.
But what he saw was the 20-year-old Shin Gi-tae. Not gray-haired, wrinkle-free, brimming with vigor—the Shin Gi-tae from those times.
He smiled satisfactorily, lifted his cap to reveal the four stars embroidered on it, looked at them for a moment, put the cap back on, and straightened his back.
As soon as he opened the door, the soldiers standing at both ends of the corridor all saluted at once.
“Loyalty! We greet the Commander!”
The Commander Shin Gi-tae.
The man at the top of the current Republic of Korea.
And.
“Where is my son?”
Shin Hae-jun’s stepfather.
Now, he stepped out from behind the mirror.
🕂
Since the appearance of Min Ahyeon, clearing out the infected was easily accomplished. Well, shooting the head of an infected with a single bullet from a distance of over 200 meters is not exactly “easy,” but Min Ahyeon did it effortlessly. She was someone with such abilities.
“I wonder what would have happened if it wasn’t for Lieutenant Min.”
The cold moonlight seeps into Shin Hae-jun’s sweat-soaked face.
His expression was still stiff from the traces of combat and fatigue, but he still exuded resilience and determination. His eyes were refined to a fault, projecting an unmatched dignity, but if one looked closely, one could see that his signature mischievous gaze was not hidden. He gave a slight smile as he looked at Min Ahyeon.
“I would have died by now?”
Min Ahyeon looked down at him and let out a wry laugh.
“You would have become infected and died by my bullet.”
She replied nonchalantly.
Shin Hae-jun felt slightly disappointed then. It wasn’t the warm words he had been longing to hear, calling out to Ahyeon desperately just moments ago, deep within his heart.
“That’s harsh.”
Shin Hae-jun frowned slightly with a drained voice, then deliberately answered brusquely.
“Don’t you remember when you were begging me to put it in just once?”
“General!”
“You even threw a tantrum, asking me to do it harder. Don’t you remember that either?”
“…Do you really think such thoughts even at times like this, General?”
“Yes. Very much so.”
Seeing the snickering Shin Hae-jun, Ahyeon shook her head with an exasperated expression. Shin Hae-jun reached out his hand to her.
“Help me up. I’m struggling.”
“Are you a child? Get up yourself.”
“Really, Ahyeon. I can’t move at all.”
Shin Hae-jun joked with a pout, and Ahyeon tried to ignore him. Her attitude towards him was a bit of a tantrum.
It was a tantrum over why he had entrusted his life to her so recklessly, a desire to tell him not to throw away his life like that, and relief that he was still alive.
However, since she couldn’t articulate all of this verbally, Ahyeon stuck to her brusque attitude, at least until she saw Shin Hae-jun’s ankle bent at an unnatural angle.
“Are you injured?”
Ahyeon rushed over in shock, and it was only then that Shin Hae-jun looked down at his leg and let out an “Ah ha,” chuckling awkwardly.
“I guess that’s why I couldn’t put any strength into it. I didn’t expect this.”
You didn’t expect this?
Ahyeon was dumbfounded.
She was aware of the rumors that Shin Hae-jun’s body seemed to be made of steel. In fact, by being around Shin Hae-jun, she too had occasionally thought that he had a different condition from others. He rarely got injured, and even when he did, wounds healed quickly, often within a few days. After all, he had faced infected multiple times recently and still had the strength to charge at me…. Anyway.
So, seeing Shin Hae-jun in such a condition was a first for her. His twisted ankle looked obviously broken.
“It seems broken. You should apply a splint or something.”
“It can’t be broken. I’ll be fine.”
“But your ankle is bent the opposite way.”
“My ankles are naturally flexible.”
“Seriously, what nonsense… Wait here. I’ll get something for you.”
Barely holding back a curse, Ahyeon brushed past Shin Hae-jun while letting out a deep breath. Shin Hae-jun’s nonchalant attitude as if it wasn’t his problem was extremely vexing. Her chest felt like it was boiling, her stomach felt queasy, her body felt feverish. In any case, she was not in a good mood.
As she passed between the corpses of the infected, scanning the ground, Ahyeon soon spotted an intact wooden plank. Since she had something to tie it with, it should suffice to support Shin Hae-jun’s leg.
Carrying the plank, Ahyeon approached Shin Hae-jun, knelt on one knee, and carefully lifted his leg.
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
Staring intently at Ahyeon, Shin Hae-jun slowly answered.
“Not really. I’m fine.”
“……”
Ahyeon narrowed one eye.
“Even in this state, you don’t say a word about being in pain. You really are tough, General.”
Shin Hae-jun’s expression became slightly ambiguous. He was still looking down at Ahyeon affectionately, but a faint sense of desolation was seeping into that affection. It was a bleak and lonely gaze, like moonlight trapped behind the clouds.
“If I say I’m in pain.”
Shin Hae-jun tilted his head slightly towards Ahyeon.
“What will you do for me?”
“Pardon?”
“Will you hug me?”
Ahyeon frowned and lifted her chin, intending to tell him not to joke around in such a situation.
But seeing Shin Hae-jun’s eyes up close, those eyes that somehow looked delicate, somehow looked futile, somehow looked lonely, she couldn’t bring herself to rebuke him. It just didn’t seem right to do so.
“Ge—”
“Ahyeon-ah.”
Shin Hae-jun’s red lips parted slowly.
🕂
Thank you for reading! ♡
