Taa... tatataa....

“...!?”

The moment Junho heard the distant, unfamiliar—yet strangely recognizable—muted sound, he immediately crouched low.

Wheeeeeee...!

Taa... ta....

Listening to the repeated sound carried by the sharp river wind, Junho quickly spoke into the radio.

“Manager Yoon, did you fire your weapon by any chance?”

—What? No.

Apparently, Yoon Seolhee hadn’t heard it.

Because of the river wind?

No—

Junho was certain he alone had caught it because his hearing had become far sharper than before.

“I think I just heard suppressed gunfire. Hold position for now.”

—Understood.

“Jimin, can you launch a drone on my signal? Use one of the small models. Check the surroundings first and make sure nobody’s nearby.”

—Got it. One second.

For this Bucheon insertion operation, Junho had brought two units each of four different drone types.

The medium drones the shelter primarily used for surveillance and reconnaissance, smaller but still highly capable compact drones, mini drones, and the new version of the A2 attack drone.

Of course, without AI combat support, he couldn’t operate multiple drones simultaneously the way he had before.

And unlike in Namyangju, where drones launched directly from the shelter and noise had never been an issue, now that they were inside the Seoul metropolitan area, they had to be extremely careful during launches and landings.

Even the compact drone Junho had just mentioned generated a fairly noticeable sound.

—Launch complete. Area’s clear.

“Good. Bring it this way.”

Probably because he had followed his training and checked the area first, Kim Jimin got the drone airborne remarkably quickly.

—The zombies on Gangbyeonbuk-ro are converging on one point. About fifty meters ahead of where you two are. That’s... a flashlight?

Then—

Gwoooaaaar...! Kyaaa...!

Zombie shrieks echoed in the distance.

The dense brush and trees hid the light from this side, but apparently the zombies on the elevated roadway connecting Gayang Bridge to Gangbyeonbuk-ro had spotted the bright flashlight beam.

And that wasn’t all.

Koooom...! Thud...! THUD-THUD...!

—This is bad! The zombies are swarming toward the light. Ah—no, they’re jumping off the overpass now!

Heavy impacts rang out one after another, followed by the sound of zombies screaming and sprinting from somewhere not far away.

Junho hurriedly called Yoon Seolhee.

“Manager Yoon? You okay over there?”

—Yes. I don’t think they saw me.

Her whisper came through the radio as she moved near Gangbyeonbuk-ro.

Thank God it was nighttime. Otherwise this could’ve turned catastrophic.

Aaaah...! Huaaagh...!

Terrified screams soon rang across the riverside, piercing even through the violent wind, and the zombies that heard them charged toward the sound in massive numbers.

—Those fucking idiots...

Kim Jimin cursed under his breath.

But Junho could understand those survivors—or perhaps looters—to some extent.

No matter how long someone had survived in a world like this, the moment zombies attacked in the middle of the night, sheer terror could make them instantly forget the absolute rule of survival:

Don’t make noise.

“Jimin, see the hill near Gangbyeonbuk-ro on your side? The woods leading up toward World Cup Park. Sweep that area carefully. Somebody fired from there. Suppressed weapon.”

—A gun? W-wait a second.

Kyaaa...! Grrrrrr...!

Huaaaah! Aaaagh...!

Listening to the zombies’ shrieks and the survivors’ desperate screams, Junho waited for the report.

Then Kim Jimin spoke urgently.

—Found them. Up in a roadside tree near World Cup Park. About a hundred forty meters from your position. Somebody built what looks like an observation post up there. Thermal camera’s picking up two people.

“As expected...”

—Why didn’t we find that during the day?

Earlier that afternoon, before setting up camp near Gayang Bridge, the three of them had thoroughly reconnoitered the area with drones.

At the time, they had seen neither observation post nor people.

But Junho, as a regressor, immediately understood the reason.

And so did Yoon Seolhee, who came from Special Forces.

—They probably camouflaged it. Stayed hidden inside during the day too, so the thermal camera couldn’t pick them up.

“That’s most likely it.”

—Holy shit... then these aren’t ordinary people.

—Mr. Junho, you said you heard suppressed gunfire, right? Can you identify the weapon?

“Judging by the distance, probably 5.56.”

In an environment like this, if they had fired something like a suppressed K7 SMG, even Junho probably wouldn’t have heard it.

—Then it’s probably special operations personnel. What do we do, Mr. Junho?

The unwelcome visitors they had originally intended to deal with in the middle of the night had likely already become zombie food—or zombies themselves.

And the unknown group wasn’t just skilled enough to build a concealed tree observation post invisible even to drone reconnaissance.

They were also capable of repeatedly hitting moving targets from over a hundred meters away in complete darkness using suppressed rifles.

'They probably have night vision or thermal gear too.'

The reason they hadn’t discovered Junho and Yoon Seolhee was likely because the elevated roadway between Gayang Bridge and Gangbyeonbuk-ro blocked their line of sight.

Junho made his decision immediately.

“We’re pulling out for now. Move carefully.”

—Understood.

“Jimin, maintain drone altitude and keep watching them.”

—Yes. Monitoring now.

After issuing the orders, Junho quietly retraced his path through the increasingly heavy spring rain like a wild animal slipping through the darkness.

***

“20:50.”

Checking the time, Junho looked at the still fully armed pair.

“We need to relocate the camp for now. This spot’s good, but those guys’ companions may already know about it.”

“Yes.”

“Jimin, keep surveillance up with the drone.”

The inflatable boat had already been hidden deep within a marshland where there were absolutely no human traces, so that wasn’t a problem.

So Junho and Yoon Seolhee gathered all their gear—including the electric motor, sleeping bags, and tent—and relocated to what had once been a traditional Korean archery experience center.

The terrain had originally been slightly elevated, but with the Han River’s water level now much higher, the archery grounds sat dangerously close to the waterline.

And with vegetation having grown wildly in the meantime, it was difficult to recognize the place at all.

Beside the archery grounds was a sloped rail-type slipway used for hauling small boats ashore.

Two-thirds of it was already submerged beneath the swollen river.

'That’s...'

Looking through his night-vision goggles across the slipway, Junho narrowed his eyes.

Roughly 150 meters away stood several wide, elongated steel structures connected together into a floating pier, with several small boats moored nearby.

No people were visible at the moment, but it was still enough to warrant caution, so Junho quietly withdrew.

“If the rain gets much heavier, this place will flood too.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Let’s search farther inland.”

The rain was steadily intensifying now, making it clear they couldn’t keep the camp beside the river.

Splash. Splash.

After surveying the surroundings through his night-vision goggles, Junho spoke to Yoon Seolhee.

“There’s a good spot over there.”

The two headed toward the bridge supports directly behind the slipway.

“This place...”

Yoon Seolhee’s eyes widened slightly.

Beneath the bridge were two container units that appeared to have once been used by managers of the archery center or the slipway.

“No one’s here. After checking inside, it looks like nobody’s used them for at least half a year.”

The containers had multiple windows, making it easy to inspect the interiors, and only old traces of human use remained.

Clack.

Using a lock bypass tool, Junho quickly opened the door and stepped inside.

The cramped interior—barely ten square meters—was thick with dust.

Still, it was infinitely better than staying outside in the cold river wind and steady rain.

Junho and Yoon Seolhee quickly carried their piled-up gear inside.

Several minutes later—

—Mr. Junho. Manager Yoon. People are coming out from the observation post side.

“...!”

“How many? Where do they seem to be heading?”

—Four of them. Looks like they’re trying to cross the road.

“Gangbyeonbuk-ro? That’s dangerous...”

Even for highly skilled active-duty operators armed with suppressed firearms, crossing a twelve-lane highway crawling with hundreds of zombies was insanely dangerous.

—...Huh? They disappeared?

“What do you mean disappeared?”

At Yoon Seolhee’s question, Kim Jimin answered in confusion.

—N-no, wait. Suddenly the thermal feed—ah! Underpass! There’s an underpass beneath the road.

Junho and Yoon Seolhee looked at each other simultaneously.

Just like the observation post, they had failed to discover the underpass during daytime reconnaissance.

But after nearly ten months without maintenance, most of the Han River area had reverted into near wilderness, with trees and vines tangled together into something resembling a forest.

Missing it during drone recon wasn’t strange at all.

—Yeah, definitely an underpass. They just came out on the riverside. Huh? They’re not heading toward Nanji Campground. Looks like they’re going toward where those people died earlier.

Hearing that, Junho narrowed his eyes.

Shooting them was one thing.

But going there afterward to check?

Were they planning to loot the bodies?

“...!”

The moment the thought of “looting” crossed his mind, Junho frowned deeply.

“What is it?”

At Yoon Seolhee’s question, Junho clicked his tongue.

“Jimin installed one of the thermal cameras near where those people died earlier, remember? And he did it before sunset.”

“...So they’d already spotted him from the start.”

Yoon Seolhee’s expression darkened, and Junho nodded.

“Most likely. He had guns, and from a distance he probably looked military. They probably let him go because they weren’t sure what he was doing.”

“Then they’re definitely active-duty.”

“Yes.”

Junho nodded while inwardly criticizing his own carelessness.

At the same time, he was once again reminded just how dangerous survivors who had managed to stay alive this long could be.

If they hadn’t mistaken Kim Jimin for fellow military personnel, he could easily have ended up dead.

“What are you planning to do? The thermal camera’s a waste, but honestly I think we should just abandon it.”

“......”

Junho thought quietly about Yoon Seolhee’s suggestion.

Under normal circumstances, she was right.

The safest move would be to monitor them with the drone and remaining thermal cameras through the night, finish charging tomorrow, and leave afterward.

But—

'I feel like I’m forgetting something.'

It felt as though there was some critical piece missing from his memory.

Back before the regression, around this exact time...

It felt like something important had happened.

“Ah...!”

“...?”

Junho suddenly snapped his fingers, startling Yoon Seolhee.

Ignoring her reaction, he hurriedly spoke.

“Manager Yoon, do you happen to know much about UDT or SSU units?”

“...What?”

As Yoon Seolhee blinked in confusion, Junho began explaining the plan forming from the fragments of memory surfacing in his mind.

***

“Fuck... we told them not to come this way after dark. Idiots.”

Staff Sergeant Moon Younghoon muttered quietly after shooting the zombie that had continued wandering near the bodies instead of returning to the highway like the others.

Beside him, Sergeant Park Sangsik—another member of the same team deployed on the operation—sighed.

“What can you do? We warned them twice and those idiots still ignored us. Besides, if we’d left them alone, they probably would’ve killed and looted that soldier we saw earlier.”

“Probably. If not us, that guy might’ve killed them himself.”

Even so, having shot civilians left Moon Younghoon visibly uncomfortable.

“So where’d that guy disappear to?”

“No idea. Last we confirmed, he was moving toward Gayang Bridge. Couldn’t track him after that because the overpass blocked the angle.”

“No clue what unit he belongs to either?”

“No, sir. He was wearing multicam tactical gear, but no patches or insignia. Still, judging from his weapons and equipment, he definitely wasn’t regular infantry. Either Special Forces or 707.”

“Tch. The whole command structure’s collapsed anyway. No way to identify anyone anymore. But we’re sure he’s not one of ours?”

“Yes, Deputy Team Leader.”

“Whatever. He’s probably here on some mission of his own too. Would’ve been nice to meet him directly, though...”

Then—

Bzzzzzzzz....

“W-what the hell...?”

Hearing rotor noise overhead, Moon Younghoon, Park Sangsik, and the two men with them quickly looked up.

A drone hovered high above the Han River rather than over Gangbyeonbuk-ro.

“Everyone get under cover!”

The drone was flying high enough that even they could barely hear it, but Moon Younghoon gave the order immediately just in case.

The four men quickly concealed themselves among nearby trees and brush.

“A drone? What kind of bastard—wait, could it be...?”

The moment Moon Younghoon remembered the unidentified armed soldier he had spotted before sunset—

Click-click-CLACK-click, click-CLACK-click, CLACK-click-click.

A clicking sound echoed from somewhere in the distance.

“...!?”

Click-click-click-click, click-click-CLACK-click.

At first it sounded random.

But there was a clear rhythm to it.

“Morse code...?”

“Friendly. Do not... fire?”

Moon Younghoon and Park Sangsik, both active-duty UDT operators, immediately understood the meaning.