Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 96.2: The Forsaken (2)

A survival principle for the apocalypse:

Never be obedient.

If someone tells you to drop your weapon, doing so is equivalent to entrusting them with your life and everything else you own.

Therefore, ignoring demands to disarm or surrender is the correct choice.

Conversations between people holding weapons capable of killing one another should proceed differently.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I fired into the air.

The advancing elderly men hesitated.

Feeling the chilling silence spread through the forest, I finally opened my mouth.

“I think I took a wrong turn. I’ll just leave.”

Dialogue only occurs on equal footing.

Reinforcing to the other side that I have firepower and a means to fight isn’t too late.

There was no movement from the elderly men.

They were probably engaged in a heated discussion—deciding whether to let me leave or attempt an attack.

Soon, hoarse voices rang out from the ridge above.

“Fuck off, bastard!”

“Hands up and come out! Or we’ll kill you!”

“You think we can’t take down one guy? Huh?!”

Their response signaled battle.

What stood out was the depth of hostility and anger in their voices.

I had never wronged these people or harmed them in any way.

Yet, in every syllable, they radiated an unwavering intent to harm me in some form.

“Show yourself now! Drop the gun!”

“Stop being stubborn! We know you’re alone!”

It is well-documented in anthropology that isolated groups tend to develop hostility toward outsiders.

But we weren’t in some remote part of Oceania—we were in Gyeonggi Province, South Korea.

For elderly men to have become this belligerent required further study.

Of course, I hadn’t come here today to research the aggression of elderly survivalist groups.

“I’ll say it again. I simply took a wrong turn. I have no intention of fighting, and I want to avoid unnecessary conflict.”

My luck was clearly terrible today.

“Shut the fuck up! You came to spy on us, didn’t you?”

“You’re here to steal our crops, huh?!”

“What? Planning to take us somewhere and inject us with that zombie virus?”

I had come here searching for a potential third bunker site—only to stumble upon a hostile, militant group of elderly men.

The elderly group.

It was a depressing mirror reflecting an inescapable fate for humanity.

Everyone knew of their existence.

Everyone acknowledged the problems they posed.

Yet society had never found a proper solution for them.

Even in the apocalypse, the elderly remained.

Of course they did.

It’s not like all the old people living peacefully before the war suddenly dropped dead the moment it started.

Yet, as far as I knew, Viva! Apocalypse! had never seriously analyzed or discussed the presence of elderly survivalist groups.

They obviously existed, but no one wanted to acknowledge them.

Perhaps people had simply assumed the weak and old would naturally die off when the war began.

In reality, organized executions and massacres of the elderly had occurred in Korea.

Everyone knew it was wrong.

But no one had actively stepped in to stop it.

Because, in the end, it was merely accelerating the inevitable.

That was the general perception of elderly groups.

Now, one of those nearly extinct elderly groups was standing before me, spewing hostility.

“You’re not walking out of here alive. I can see you even if you run far.”

“This is our territory. Go on, try running. We’re not so easy to deal with. My stamina is better than any of you twenty-something bastards!”

Bang! Bang!

Gunshots cracked above my head.

An old carbine rifle.

I assessed the terrain.

It wasn’t favorable.

They had the high ground and knew the terrain better than I did.

I had no idea how skilled they were with firearms, but I wasn’t about to test their accuracy with my body.

Simply put, I was at a severe disadvantage.

I had unwittingly stepped into a kill zone.

“You have thirty seconds. Drop your weapon and come out. Otherwise, we’ll turn you into a beehive.”

“Don’t think just ‘cause we’re old, we’re weak. You’ll regret it.”

Negotiation seemed impossible.

From start to finish, their hostility was excessive.

“...”

So it had to be a fight.

If I could capture one of them alive, there might be a chance to negotiate.

But taking a hostage on unfamiliar terrain, outnumbered, and surrounded was likely even harder than killing them all.

Click.

“...”

With no other options, I had to engage.

When I was in China, I had seen isolated groups of elderly survivors transform into something more savage and ruthless than most raiders.

Abandoned by the world.

Loved by no one.

Protected by no one.

The realization of that cruel reality had turned them into something more brutal than the worst scavengers.

These men were likely the same.

A group where only by killing each other could the situation end.

I plotted a retreat route while listening to the movements on the ridge.

Rustling sounds indicated movement.

Resupply?

Or were they issuing commands?

There were no visible radios or drones.

The issue was numbers.

From my position, I counted at least fifteen men.

Some carried guns.

Others wielded judge-killer crossbows.

Some held curved sickles resembling traditional Joseon-era farming tools.

I couldn’t see their faces, so I had no way of knowing their morale.

But they clearly weren’t afraid of me.

I was alone.

They had fifteen men, home-ground advantage, and superior positioning.

In this scenario, taking out their leader was the best move.

One of them had mutated.

A half-zombie.

Most likely, he had Awakened abilities, similar to Jang Ki-young or King.

Unlike King, he couldn’t generate shockwaves, but he had low-level Awakening abilities.

A nuisance.

But not invincible.

If I could target him first, it would create more escape opportunities.

I checked my weapons.

One rifle, 90 rounds.One handgun, three 12-round magazines.No grenades.Two axes.I always debated carrying grenades, but at this moment, having one wouldn’t change much.

Step—

One of the elderly men was sneaking toward me.

A small, wiry man, moving with the agility of a monkey.

He had a playful grin that made him look even more unsettling.

He crawled low, moving through the underbrush, trying to flank me.

He probably thought he was invisible from my position.

His weapon wasn’t a gun—it was a sickle.

Confident in close combat?

Or was this the arrogance of an old man who believed he could overpower some “young punk” with brute strength?

His sudden appearance changed my perception of the situation.

The faint, dying option of taking a hostage suddenly flared back to life.

I held my breath, focusing on his movements.

As expected—

Bang! Bang! Bang!

They fired a diversionary attack.

Whoosh—

A judge-killer crossbow bolt landed near me, trembling in the ground.

If ammunition ever ran out completely, would all fights be reduced to medieval melee weapons?

I couldn’t even imagine a war without bullets.

But I didn’t have time for philosophical questions.

The sneaky old man was closing the distance fast.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Tatatatatatang!

Suppressive fire rained down.

But suppressive fire only works if you’re scared.

The moment their gunfire paused, I shifted, locking onto the old man lunging at me—

A sickle flashed.

Clang!

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

I swung an axe, deflecting his weapon.

His sickle flew into the air.

“?!”

Before he could react, I slammed my axe handle into his temple, dragged him down, and smashed his face with my rifle stock.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

“Grrrrgh!!!”

I kept beating him senseless until he stopped fighting.

“Ghhhrrr...”

As his yellowed, sickly face twitched, I scanned my surroundings.

The gunfire stopped.

The elderly group had realized—

Their assassin had been easily taken down.

The old man’s screams of pain echoed as I continued beating him.

It didn’t stop until he began begging for his life.

When I paused, he tried resisting again, so I hit him harder until he was completely subdued.

“Grrrrh...”

The old man, his face yellowed like a jaundiced corpse, lay next ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) to me as I assessed my surroundings.

The gunfire had stopped.

The elderly group had realized that their assassin had been taken down with little effort.

If they had an Awakened among them, they would have sensed it even more clearly.

I didn’t bother using the old man as a bargaining chip.

Instead, I simply waited for him to regain consciousness.

“...J-just kill me.”

The old man rasped out, his breathing labored.

I raised the rifle stock.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Beatings correct most behaviors.

More importantly, violence is the fastest and most effective way to teach someone what kind of person I am.

After two more merciless beatings, the old man finally showed signs of being willing to talk.

“...D-don’t kill me. I-I won’t do anything.”

I stared him down and spoke coldly and briefly.

“I don’t want to fight. I have no intention of killing you. Go tell your people that.”

The old man raised his hands and stepped out from cover.

He relayed my message to the others, though not exactly as I had said it.

“E-everyone, stop shooting! This guy isn’t here to fight us! He says he doesn’t want to fight and doesn’t want to kill us!”

I spoke again.

“I took a wrong turn. I wasn’t spying or scouting. If you want to fight, I can, but if we start, I won’t be forgiving. Tell them that. Also, tell them I can kill every single one of them alone.”

The old man passed on my words.

There was no movement from the ridge.

I wasn’t sure about the details, but at the very least, they valued their comrades.

If they didn’t, they would’ve put a bullet in the head of the hostage I had taken.

While the elderly group hesitated, I studied my captive.

His face was covered in wounds.

I pulled out a disinfectant swab from my pocket and tossed it to him.

The old man caught it with a bewildered expression.

His eyes were still filled with fear.

“...I didn’t beat you just because I wanted to.”

The old man didn’t respond.

He simply rubbed the swab over his wounds in silence.

The ridge remained quiet.

Occasionally, angry voices could be heard, indicating internal disagreements.

Ultimately, they held the power here.

The value they placed on their hostage determined my safety.

Since I wasn’t the one deciding how much he was worth, all I could do was wait.

“How did you end up here?”

It was a strange thing—having a conversation with someone I had just beaten within an inch of his life.

But in warzones, absurd exchanges like these were common.

After all, he had also tried to kill me.

The old man wiped his face with the swab and muttered.

“...They didn’t pick up.”

“?”

“They didn’t pick up the phone. No, the call didn’t go through. Phones don’t work here.”

I stared at him, waiting for him to clarify.

He organized his thoughts and spoke again.

“The kids... they were supposed to come pick me up. But I couldn’t reach them.”

“This was before the war?”

“Before the war started. I should’ve been able to call them. But the phone just didn’t work. The number disappeared.”

A typical case of abandonment, I assumed.

I was about to jump to conclusions when the old man stared into the air and continued.

“Then, after the war started, I got a call from the old number. They said they were coming to get me.”

“What? I thought you said the number disappeared.”

“It came back. But by then, everything was already a mess. So I just stayed here.”

The old man clicked his tongue and stared at me.

“After that, I never heard from them again. I heard rumors that they went to Jeju Island. Maybe they’re there.”

“...”

The logic of the elderly group was difficult to understand.

They saw the world differently.

They judged things differently.

“Taek-soo, send him up! We won’t shoot!”

A grating voice rang out from the ridge.

It was the half-corpse old man.

“Hurry up! Before we change our minds!”

Even now, their logic made no sense.

Releasing the hostage first and then telling me to run?

I couldn’t understand their reasoning.

But at least I knew one thing now.

They didn’t want their man to die.

Keeping him as a shield, I slowly backed away from cover.

The expected gunfire didn’t come.

At a point where they had no clear line of sight, I released the hostage.

“There, sorry about that. You’re free to go.”

The old man stared at me.

“Hey.”

He spoke.

“Do you... have parents?”

I shook my head.

He smirked.

I had no interest in knowing why.

Leaving the forsaken old men behind, I walked away into the chilling mountains.

I was curious by nature, but their future didn’t interest me.

*

Returning empty-handed always left a bitter aftertaste.

The search for a third bunker had led me to nothing but a new realization—

That there were still unknown threats in this world.

And now, there was someone waiting outside my bunker.

“Senior! Hey, Senior Park!”

So today wasn’t the day I was going to die.

I knew that guy.

“Senior! I heard you pulled off a big job in Seoul!”

Cheon Young-jae.

Not exactly a close friend.

But still better than Kim Daram.

He was always a slippery guy.

But today, he had brought a car.

And a lot of supplies.

I had a bad feeling.

“What do you want?”

Cheon Young-jae grinned and scratched his head.

He glanced around my bunker’s territory before speaking.

“You know, Senior Park... You’re aware that the world’s about to go to complete shit, right?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“So, I was thinking... why don’t we form a group with our fellow alumni?”

“A group...?”

That was a word that didn’t suit me at all.