“Got it—!”
As the Core tumbled across the floor, Jae-hee Han threw himself forward in a diving catch. A sphere the size of a billiard ball fit snugly in his palm.
He scrambled and rolled, putting as much distance as he could between himself and Miss Hellth, terrified she might unleash one final, desperate attack.
But she couldn’t muster so much as a final twitch.
Crack—!
She crashed to the ground as if slammed from above, then went limp.
A hazy, nauseating smoke billowed from Miss Hellth’s corpse. When it cleared a moment later, her body had shriveled into a pathetic husk.
Zzt, zzzzzzt—
With a grating squeal of static, the purple Gate in the center of Daejeon Station pulsed with a final, lurid flash of light. Then, like an old cathode-ray television switching off, it winked out of existence.
Gruh…
Gruaahh…
Simultaneously, the zombies that had been swarming the station, captivated by the trot music, seemed to deflate. One by one, their limbs went slack, and they collapsed to the ground.
“Oh, ooh…?”
Sprawled on the floor, clutching the Core to his chest, Jae-hee glanced from side to side.
“Is it… over?”
“Yeah. It’s over.” Ghost sheathed her black sword and walked toward him.
“You did good, kid.” She was smiling faintly. “Lasted pretty long for a premature ejaculator.”
“I told you, it’s not premature, it’s just… quick-drawing… Ugh, forget it.”
Boy, premature ejaculator… all these pathetic nicknames, Jae-hee grumbled, inspecting his sprained ankle.
Just then…
Crack—
“Huh?”
A fissure split across the Gate Core in his hands, the one he’d torn from Miss Hellth’s body.
Jae-hee blinked in confusion. “The Core is cracking.”
“That thing? They can’t maintain their form outside a Gate. They always shatter.”
The Core could only exist outside its dimension so long as it was synchronized with the Boss Monster. Now that it had been ejected, it couldn’t hold itself together.
Jae-hee tilted his head. “But the one Brain and I stole from the bank didn’t break…”
“The only time they stay intact outside a Gate is if it’s a ‘Lord Core.’ And those are incredibly rar—” Ghost cut herself off, glancing at Jae-hee. “Ah. So that’s why you got slapped with a three-hundred-year sentence.”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
Instead of explaining, Ghost stuck a cigarette between her lips and lit it with a match.
“Don’t throw away the fragments. You can exchange them for rewards when we get back,” she said.
“So the pieces are useful… Oh, wait. Are you giving this to me?”
“Do I look like the type who’d steal your grubby little reward? You did most of the work closing this Gate, anyway.”
Ghost spoke gruffly, exhaling a long plume of smoke from between her crimson lips.
“Haaa…”
Jae-hee gazed at her briefly before turning toward the city.
The power supply must have finally given out; the streetlights and speakers had fallen silent, their lights and sounds extinguished.
As if the chaos of the past night had been a lie, Daejeon was now shrouded in silence. Only the faint glow of dawn brightening the distant eastern sky served as a reminder that the world had not stopped turning.
“It’s gotten quiet,” Jae-hee murmured.
“The end of a party is always the emptiest part.”
The two of them surveyed the silent city for a long moment without a word.
“Boy.”
Ghost dropped her cigarette, crushed it under her heel, and asked abruptly, “What’s your ‘futile hope’?”
It was a continuation of their conversation in the department store.
Fried Soboro Bread, a zombie cure, a trip down memory lane… Things out of reach, yet somehow fueling the will to keep going.
Jae-hee blinked his wide eyes, then scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.
“I dunno. I’ve just been going with the flow…”
“So you don’t actually have a goal? After all you said?”
“Mmm. I’m not sure if I don’t have one, or if I’ve just been too busy surviving to really think about it…”
“Then you should start thinking. Even if there’s no telling how long you’ll be stuck as a convict.”
Ghost turned back toward Daejeon Station.
“You were right. This world is probably ending soon… but even so, people keep living. I guess that’s because they have some futile hope to cling to, if nothing else.”
“…”
“You’re going to need one, too.”
Watching her back as she walked away, Jae-hee mustered his courage and asked, “What’s your ‘futile hope’, Grandma?”
Ghost’s reply was curt.
“None of your beeswax.”
***
Underneath Daejeon Station.
Leaning against the wall in a corner of the subway passage, Model Student was dying. Around him, the corpses of countless zombies were piled into a small hill.
He had used every last combat skill and dirty trick at his disposal to stop the zombies that poured into the tunnel to hunt the survivors.
“Huu, huu…”
As he gasped for breath, a familiar voice reached his ears.
“Hey, zombie. You sure killed a lot of your own.”
Model Student looked up quietly and found a white-haired swordswoman walking down the passageway.
“Ghost…”
“Find your cure?”
Model Student laughed weakly at her sardonic question. “I couldn’t find a medicine to bring back a dead body… but I did find one that seeps into a heart that died long ago.”
“Sounds like you’ve been listening to the Ode to the Hunters.”
“If I’m going to die anyway… isn’t it cooler to go out as a Hunter than a zombie?”
Dead is dead either way, Ghost thought, but she didn’t say it out loud.
This man had thrown away his own life to save others. No matter how broken the world became, there was still a greatness in that act.
“I wish you… could feel what it’s like to go back to those days…” Model Student’s breathing grew ragged, no longer quite human.
Ghost’s voice was flat. “Any last words?”
Model Student met her piercing blue eyes. “Could you end it… with your sword?”
“…”
“At the very least… I want to die a human.”
Ghost slowly drew her blade. “So be it.”
Model Student lowered his head, exposing the nape of his neck. “One clean strike. Please.”
“Count on it.”
Before the words were out, Ghost’s blade was already swinging.
“It’s what I’ve done my whole life.”
Squelch—!
Fresh, warm human blood splattered across the hill of zombie corpses.
***
When Ghost emerged from the underpass, a few of the survivors were gathered in the plaza in front of Daejeon Station.
The Patissier, who had made it there at some point, was tearfully embracing the others. When they saw Ghost, they scrambled to bow their heads.
“Thank you for saving us, Lady Hunter!”
“Thank you so much…!”
“I don’t know what would have happened if you Hunters hadn’t helped us…!”
Jae-hee grinned from ear to ear at the unexpected gratitude, but Ghost’s expression remained unchanged as she brushed it off.
Just then, the leader of the survivors, the Public Health Center Director, cautiously approached Ghost. “Excuse me, where is the Hunter who helped us earlier? Is he safe?”
“…”
Ghost gave the director a gruff once-over before spitting out her reply. “He had another mission, so he headed there first.”
“Ah, I see. I wanted to thank him properly…”
“Hmph.” Ghost snorted. “Don’t worry. He would’ve been sick of hearing ‘thanks’ at this point.”
She meant it.
“He was a hero once, after all.”
***
Time passed. Twenty-four hours after the mission began.
Thwup-thwup-thwup-thwup-thwup—!
A transport aircraft marked with the post office logo descended, its rotors churning the air, and landed in the parking lot designated as the rendezvous point.
The hatch opened, and Commander Hae-eun Seo stepped onto the cracked asphalt of Daejeon, flanked by her guards.
Ghost, who had been squatting on the ground chewing on a cigarette butt, glanced up at her.
Hae-eun Seo immediately asked, “Where’s the Patissier?”
“Over there.” Ghost pointed toward Jae-hee, behind whom the terrified Patissier was hiding.
Hae-eun smirked and gestured to her men with her chin. “Get him on board. The client is waiting with bated breath.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The Patissier was dragged onto the transport. “Where are you taking me?!” he yelped.
Meanwhile, Hae-eun gave Ghost a warm smile. “You did great, Ghost. See? You’re the only one I can count on.”
“Bullshit…”
Ghost flicked the cigarette butt she’d been chewing, sending it to land at Hae-eun’s feet.
The commander didn’t bat an eye and turned to Jae-hee. “You did good, too, Boy. You actually survived.”
“Ahaha… I guess so. I was lucky.”
“Luck is a skill. Well done. I’ll be expecting more from you.
Hae-eun took out a tablet and began entering the mission results.
“So, Model Student, Miss Hellth, and Flight Risk are all dead?”
Ghost stood up, brushing herself off. “That’s right. We torched Model Student and Miss Hellth and recovered their body cams. Couldn’t confirm Flight Risk’s body, but he’s definitely dea—”
“Gruuhhh—!”
An odd groan echoed from the sky.
Everyone looked up to see something floating toward them—a zombie. Its trench coat flapped in the wind, revealing no other clothing underneath.
The zombie was disturbingly familiar, its body tattered as if it had been caught in an explosion, soaring freely across the sky.
“Graaaaaah~!”
A stunned silence hung in the air before Hae-eun Seo let out a chuckle.
“Well, he’s dead, all right. Just that nobody expected he’d still be flying around like this. That man really is a persistent psycho.”
“…”
“Don’t worry, Ghost. I’ll let this one slide.”
Hae-eun reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small device with a covered switch.
“Easy to take care of, anyway.”
Click. She flipped open the cover and pressed one of the five switches.
BOOM—!
Instantly, Flight Risk’s collar exploded.
The zombie, having enjoyed its final flight, trailed a long plume of smoke from its neck as it plummeted toward the other side of the city. A loud crash echoed from the distance.
“…”
Hae-eun slung an arm over the shoulder of a dumbfounded Jae-hee and grinned.
“Alright, shall we head back?”
Then, draping her other arm over a visibly disgusted Ghost, the commander cheered, “To our home sweet home!”
***
Thwup-thwup-thwup…
Seated on the transport as it took off, Jae-hee pressed his forehead against the window and looked down.
The site of his first mission, one of Korea’s Three Hellholes, spread out below him—a city of undead chaos.
In its center, near Daejeon Station, he could see a group of survivors moving wearily.
Jae-hee watched them blankly.
“…”
Thirty years since the Gates opened.
The world was half-destroyed, and Korea was no different. Daejeon, a metropolis that once housed a population of 1.5 million, was now a zombie den.
But people still lived here.
Whether for the memory of Fried Soboro Bread, an obsession with family members turned into walking corpses, or a lingering attachment to a more glorious past… whatever the reason…
People were still fighting.
Exhausted, rationing water and food, they spotted the aircraft in the sky. Then, they broke into bright smiles and began to wave.
“…Haha.”
Jae-hee gave a small wave back and slowly closed his eyes. His overworked body was completely drained.
He slipped into sleep like someone who’d just passed out.
***
[Mission Report]
<Mission: The Patissier Rescue—Success>
<Participating Agents>
[A-Rank] Model Student: KIA
[A-Rank] Miss Hellth: KIA
[C-Rank] Flight Risk: KIA
[Unrank] Boy: Survived
[■■■■] Ghost: Survived
<Spoils of War>
- Gate Core Fragment x1 (Appraisal Required)
<Mission Reward>
- 500,000 P.€
***
Caw, caw—
The cry of gulls.
Swoosh…
The sound of waves. The scent of the sea—salt, seaweed, and oil.
“Umm…”
Jae-hee snapped awake from his sleepy daze.
“Whuh?!”
Startled, he looked around. This wasn’t the transport plane.
It was a port, sun-drenched and bright. He was slumped over on a pier lined with fishing boats tied up side by side.
A voice came from in front of him.
“Sleep well?”
He looked up. It was Commander Hae-eun Seo.
She was standing at the edge of the pier, watching her men organize some cargo.
“You were sleeping so soundly we carried you off the transport. You must have been exhausted.”
“Uh… um…” Still disoriented, Jae-hee rubbed his eyes and managed to ask, “Where… is this?”
“Incheon Port. We arrived an hour ago.”
Hae-eun Seo gestured, and Jae-hee saw the transport plane parked not far away and, next to it, a large sign that read <Incheon Port>.
Jae-hee struggled to process what was happening.
“Home sweet home…? I mean, weren’t we going to the prison? Why are we at Incheon Port…?”
“We’re waiting for that ‘prison’ to get here.”
Jae-hee blinked his sleepy eyes, still confused.
What does she mean? The prison is coming? Does the prison move?
“It’ll be a few more hours before it arrives. In the meantime, we have something to do.”
“Something to do…?”
“We have a funeral to hold.”
Hae-eun gestured toward the cargo piled on the pier. “They died following the nation’s orders. They deserve to be sent off with respect. Don’t you agree?”
“…?”
Only then did Jae-hee realize what the cargo was that Hae-eun Seo’s men had been arranging on the pier.
They were coffins. Crudely made, with black paint slapped on haphazardly, each had a name tag attached, scrawled in careless handwriting.
And they weren’t even real names, just callsigns.
<Model Student>
<Miss Hellth>
<Flight Risk>
His drowsiness vanished.
As Jae-hee wordlessly shot to his feet, Hae-eun Seo continued to murmur nonchalantly. “It was a secret mission, and we couldn’t recover the bodies, but there are still procedural honors to observe. Well then, shall we begin?”
“Wait, just a second.”
The black coffins stood in a neat row. The sight pulled his conversation with Hae-eun before the mission straight back to mind.
“Come back alive, and you’ll find out naturally enough. The reason for our name…”
He hadn’t understood what she meant at the time—but now, with a sinking feeling, he thought he did.
Dread creeping in, Jae-hee asked, “Is the reason for our unit’s name… by any chance…”
Hae-eun, a faint smile on her face, drew a pistol from her hip and fired into the sky.
Bang…! Bang…! Bang…!
Hollow echoes cracked over the sea.
Timed to the shots honoring the dead, Hae-eun’s men began to push the coffins, one by one, off the pier.
Black coffins dropped into the waves in solemn succession.
A parade.
Splash, splash, splash…
As Jae-hee stared, frozen and slack-jawed, Hae-eun passed by him and gave his shoulder a light pat.
She leaned in and whispered softly, “Welcome to the Black Parade.”
Click, clack, click…
Cane tapping against the concrete, Hae-eun walked away without once looking back.
Jae-hee stood there, blankly watching the black coffins sink into the sea one after another.
“…I am so, totally screwed,” he muttered at last.