Chapter 412: Chapter 412

“Put me on any team—except Assault. I’m good at everything else.”

“I’ve got a bad leg, as you can see. I can walk fast, but I can’t run. And even if I walk fast, I can’t do it for long.”

Ha Tae-hoon and Bang Jae-hyuk had arrived in a U.S. military Humvee they found in a garage.

They apologized for just taking it without asking, but in a situation , you use whatever you can.

There was so much I wanted to ask, so much I wanted to say.

These two were residents of the bunker—my home.

But now wasn’t the time.

The battlefield was still active. The monster assault could resume at any moment, and inside the city, dissatisfaction still festered and boiled over in various ways.

With Woo Min-hee having withdrawn and Gong Gyeong-min reduced to a symbolic figurehead, the one truly leading the city now was Kim Byeong-cheol.

When he saw me, Kim Byeong-cheol let out a deep sigh and began venting.

“When King Injo was chased into Namhansanseong by the Manchus, they were literally dying outside the gates, but inside, his ministers were still arguing over who was right. Nothing’s changed. We’re all about to die, and these bastards are fighting like rabid dogs just to make sure they don’t lose a single drop.”

I looked at Kim Byeong-cheol’s face quietly.

He looked older—much older than just a few days ago.

The snow-white hairs that had crept into his scalp told the story of the burden he’d borne.

It might feel premature to say this with death looming all around us, but that shadow... that shadow of death was already hanging over him.

It wasn’t that he looked ill or terminal.

But his expression carried a quiet resignation—as if he was already prepared to die with no regrets.

I’d seen this before—back when Seoul still stood tall.

People I didn’t know well would pass by with that same look, and by the time I returned, they were simply gone.

And Kim Byeong-cheol gave off that same energy now.

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it in silence.

As I thought—my intuition was right.

His eyes were emptier than ever.

He was a man who had lost all will and hope. Someone running solely on inertia.

One misstep, one more obstacle, and he would likely choose death without hesitation.

I thought about it for a moment.

If we’re being honest, he and I are strangers.

He’s a soldier. I’m a Hunter.

Sure, our lines of work overlap, but just because two animals are carnivores doesn’t make them family.

We think differently. We come from different cultures. We stand in different positions.

Our only connection was maybe Viva! Apocalypse!—an internet forum. But even there, we weren’t close.

He was a lurker. The kind who only used the internet when absolutely necessary—a textbook light user.

I, on the other hand, had integrated the internet into my very lifestyle. A heavy user.

To summarize, we weren’t close—online or off.

And yet, watching this man I’d known for years, watching him carry the heaviest burden in the city, made me want to help him.

But what could I possibly do?

I recalled something he’d muttered a long time ago.

“How’s your daughter doing?”

Before the major battles began, Kim Byeong-cheol had mentioned his daughter, Kim Ye-rim, with concern.

It was some issue involving a guy, if I remembered correctly.

Love between young men and women isn’t a big deal. But I’d heard that Kim Ye-rim had fallen in with someone... not exactly ideal.

“She’s not doing ‘well.’”

Kim Byeong-cheol let out a bitter sigh.

“Damn girl. I told her not to. But she fell head over heels for that punk.”

His face darkened further, steeped in the kind of despair that only comes from betrayal.

“I raised her alone—went through hell—and this is how she repays me...?”

On his expression—one of sheer heartbreak—I saw the image of a wind-beaten banana tree, dried out and wilted, alone in the corner of a dark alley.

Someone who bears all the responsibility... but has no strength left to fulfill it. Just waiting for fate to arrive.

I’m not the type to get involved in other people’s family issues.

I don’t have the bandwidth for that, and I believe personal matters should be handled personally.

But watching a senior in life—someone I respected—crumble at a dead end, unable to act, felt unacceptable.

Not as a citizen of this city.

Not as a fellow forum user.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

I don’t have many subordinates compared to Kim Byeong-cheol. But I do have Defender—a truly extraordinary guy.

He’s technically a Hunter, officially part of the Hunter HQ, but in reality, he leads a group of vengeful fighters who function more like a state-sanctioned gang.

Right now, he’s scouring the city’s underbelly, hunting cultists.

If anyone could handle this sort of issue better than either of us, it’d be him.

Still, it felt rushed—my offer. I was tempted to dismiss it as a throwaway line even as I said it.

But sometimes, even a throwaway line can mean everything.

The wilted man before me suddenly came alive again—with a bright, almost radiant smile.

I’m not exactly soft-hearted, but I wasn’t cold enough to reject a man who had reached his breaking point.

Besides, this man was still essential to the city.

Defender returned 48 hours later.

To cut to the chase: it was your classic, cliché romance.

A young girl fell in love.

The problem was the backdrop—she’d run away from home and was now living with the guy. That alone would make any parent worry.

And her partner? Not exactly an ideal catch.

“The guy used to hang with the troublemakers before the war. Not a thug who beat people up or anything, but the kind who mocked anyone uglier or poorer than him, snuck into high-end bars, took pictures with his crew to brag. That type.”

From what I gathered, he was the son of a well-off family and lived comfortably before the war.

He even had decent grades. But the war broke out before college entrance exams, so he never got a proper academic record.

If he had made it into university, maybe Kim Byeong-cheol would’ve responded a little more favorably.

“Objectively speaking, he’s not a bad guy. Doesn’t do drugs. Isn’t in a gang. Never killed anyone. Didn’t even get military training, so no one ever handed him a gun. But from Kim Byeong-cheol’s perspective, he’s still trash.”

I’ve always taken pride in introducing Valentine and Necropolis to this world—they were revolutionary platforms.

But, as always, human action comes with both light and shadow.

Turns out, Kim Ye-rim met the guy through the internet.

She had only used Viva! Apocalypse! before, but when people from Necropolis started flooding in, she got to talking with a few... hit it off with one, met him in person, and eventually ran away to live with him.

Could’ve been a sweet little love story.

But reality is never that forgiving.

“Looks like he targeted her from the beginning. He already had three other girlfriends—one of them basically gave him supplies in exchange for his company.”

“Since he started dating Kim Ye-rim, he hasn’t worked at all. When patrols come, she protects him and even threatens them.”

To be fair, we can’t take everything Defender says at face value.

He’s a deeply cynical man—more so than me.

And his younger sister might be worse.

Defender’s proposed solution was very much his style.

“Snatch him up and ‘educate’ him for an hour. He’ll wise up fast.”

Translation: beat him within an inch of his life.

It’d work. But the fallout could be catastrophic.

The goal here was to help Kim Byeong-cheol mentally stabilize.

Going to such extremes might crush whatever strength he has left.

“Wouldn’t it be better to talk the guy into sending Ye-rim back home?”

Defender scoffed at my suggestion.

“If talking solved everything, wars wouldn’t exist.”

But something about this case made me feel that brute force wasn’t the way.

We don’t have much time left.

And we can’t afford to lose Kim Byeong-cheol before the end.

It’s a shame, but I couldn’t get involved directly.

I don’t have the authority—or the time.

And then, a miracle happened.

The refugees who’d left Seoul came back.

Their numbers, once 1,500, were now less than half.

Mutation attacks. The cold. In-fighting.

Word spread about what had happened. But among the hundreds of citizens who came out to meet them, not one offered sympathy.

They brought it on themselves.

There’s no kinder way to say it.

Kim Byeong-cheol came out to receive them.

Traitors or not, manpower was valuable in the current war.

Even halved, the returning refugees were a resource.

Their leader was the same man as before—the one who had ignored Kim Byeong-cheol’s plea and led them away.

Kim Byeong-cheol looked at him with tired eyes.

Just like everyone else, he didn’t seem to feel anything for the returning group.

Until his gaze dropped.

The leader had a young daughter. He’d held her hand as they left the city.

But she wasn’t with him now.

Kim Byeong-cheol’s eyes flickered.

He knows the fear of loss better than I ever could.

He’s already half-lost his daughter in a way.

“Your... daughter...?”

He’d sworn he wouldn’t say a word.

But now, he broke that vow.

A frigid wind passed between them.

Frostbite marked the man’s nose and cheeks, his body wrapped in bandages. He looked back at Kim Byeong-cheol, then turned his head slowly.

From the crowd, a small figure emerged.

A girl bundled from head to toe.

At his gesture, she ran toward him—nearly slipping on the icy ground—but he caught her just in time.

They held hands once more.

The man looked back at Kim Byeong-cheol.

No more words were needed.

Kim Byeong-cheol smiled.

There were tears at the corners of his eyes.

The wind froze them into shimmering jewels.

That’s the number of newborns in the city since the monster offensive began.

In this so-called stable city, men and women are still forming bonds, still creating life.

Even standing at the brink of destruction, people cling to connection and hope.

And now, another bond was being repaired.

Kim Byeong-cheol went to find his daughter.

With Defender and his deadly team standing watch, he faced °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° her. Faced the boy.

He glanced around the messy little apartment, clearly marked with signs of reckless living—and turned away.

He didn’t beg her to return.

He only said one thing.

“Clean your damn room.”

Maybe that was the best a proud father like Kim Byeong-cheol could do.

But whatever was hidden in that gruff tone must’ve reached her.

Because Kim Ye-rim—the girl so often mocked as slow—smiled again, brightly, like she used to.

As he returned with his men, Kim Byeong-cheol looked at peace.

That alone was a relief.

Our general—Kim Byeong-cheol—would endure a little longer.

Meanwhile, Hong Da-jeong and the drone team had finally found what we’d been searching for.

It didn’t appear as an ominous white mark.

It was a sinister shadow, reflected in the fog covering the ruins beyond the river.

No one could identify the silhouette.

Even the researchers who’d been in Jeju until recently admitted they’d never seen this type before.

But I know what it is.