The air inside the car was cold.

There was a heater, but it was sealed off, and both Defender and Hong Da-jeong had dealt with the cold by dressing in thick layers.

At least the windows were intact, and the doors fit tight enough that no drafts came in, and with three people inside, the air had warmed to a tolerable temperature.

The back seat was crammed full of drones and shells.

Most of the drones were crude, self-made models, but there were also brand-new Chinese drones, gleaming enough to tell at a glance they were top-grade.

It smelled of blood.

Not in a literal, sensory way, but in the kind of way that made you think the air itself was steeped in it.

The driver didn’t speak for a while, and the passenger in the back seat just fiddled with a drone, saying nothing even though the car had been moving for some time.

It was a heavy atmosphere, but it felt... inevitable. A rite of passage.

Everyone needed a moment to sort out their thoughts.

The first to speak, naturally, was the main culprit—the one who had caused all this.

“I’ll be outside for a bit, but I have to go back there in the end.”

Defender stated his situation plainly.

“I hate that group too. You know what kind of people they are—nasty. And Dies_Irae, the one who fosters that atmosphere, is even worse. But that’s why I feel free.”

“In what way?”

“In that I can cause trouble for them without guilt.”

He gave a short laugh.

It was a ridiculous thing to say, but I couldn’t help thinking he was right.

A krrik sound came from the back seat.

Hong Da-jeong was playing with a drone.

I glanced back at her.

“It’s not that bad, honestly.”

She smiled faintly at me.

“There are way fewer creeps hitting on me than before.”

“Really? That’s hard to believe.”

“They do treat captives cruelly. I’ve seen enough to curse at them myself. Call my brother a eunuch, all kinds of crap. But they’re... weirdly obsessed with their own rules. On the surface they look like total scumbags, but they follow the rules they set for themselves to the letter.”

“I think I get what you mean.”

It was true—Dies_Irae’s group had its own set of rules.

Like a gangster’s code.

Harsh to outsiders, but with strict, almost religious discipline among their own.

Without something like that, a pack of degenerates like them could never hold together.

“For one, Dies_Irae’s people stick to a strict, outward monogamy.”

Defender, beside me, added,

“And we’re under special protection for now.”

Listening to them, I realized something.

Maybe this was why Dies_Irae had let Defender come to me.

He knew Defender had nowhere else to go.

Just then—

The car jolted as we rolled onto a half-cleared old highway.

Defender smoothly turned the wheel, guiding us down the sloped road, and continued.

“Think about what would’ve happened if I’d taken your advice.”

Advice, huh.

Now that he mentioned it, I had given Defender advice back then.

More like a warning than advice—telling him what he was about to do wasn’t wise, and would only lead to self-destruction.

He’d understood me, but he hadn’t listened.

“Everyone has times like that, right?” Defender said, eyes forward.

“When you want to see where the road ends, even if you know it’s the wrong one?”

He nodded slightly.

“Especially if you know you’ll never get the chance to see it again.”

As he finished, Defender wore the faintest smile.

For just a moment, I caught something in his eyes—an unsettling but natural conclusion.

That he might not regret dying right now.

That if not for his little sister always being with him, he might have died long ago.

It wasn’t resignation—it was closer to detachment.

Under that not-exactly-cheerful mood, we arrived at the target area.

A stretch of low-rise buildings along the road, with factories behind them and abandoned farmland beyond—an all-too-common suburban scene.

“Wait here.”

Defender clearly knew the area well.

He hid the car in a secluded ruin and sent out a drone.

Da-jeong quickly shared the feed with us.

“Here, here, and there—you see the people?”

From above, the ruined town looked empty, but on the drone’s feed, we could spot people at various points.

There were hidden guards at every choke point.

The resolution wasn’t good enough to see their exact weapons, but it was clear they had at least rifles.

It looked empty, but the whole place was fortified.

The entire town was a trap.

“Where are your friends?”

I gave her the exact address.

She moved the drone again.

“If they’re in here, that’s going to be tricky. You know what I mean?”

I nodded, but I couldn’t shake a bad feeling.

It occurred to me that An Seung-hwan and Lee Haru might be here because of their abilities.

Fanatics treated Awakened differently.

If so, I might have to abandon them.

Even if they weren’t allied with the cult, extracting them from a fortified town like this would mean risking our lives.

“Lucky.”

Da-jeong spoke up with the results.

“There—see that isolated apartment, about five kilometers away?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re living there. Probably outside the cult’s control.”

It wasn’t certain, but it was enough to give me hope.

We slowly circled around toward Haru’s hideout.

What surprised me was Da-jeong’s skill.

I’d known she was good with drones, and I’d seen her fly before, but her control now was on another level—slipping small drones in and out of individual apartment windows, peeking inside without hesitation.

Even risky paths didn’t make her flinch.

Defender, watching beside me, said,

“Back in Skull Brigade, no one underestimated my sister. Even combat-experienced drone operators were stunned watching her work.”

In the war, drones had been seen as a major threat, but in practice they hadn’t performed as well as expected.

China had the edge in quality and deployment, but drones were still a poor substitute for aircraft and artillery.

While overwhelming air power and shelling reigned as the queens of the battlefield, drones had to accept being mere handmaidens.

But in a small-scale battlefield with no air or artillery support, drones were queens.

And Da-jeong was a master.

She’d started at amateur level, but with experience and proper gear, she was now among the best operators out there.

“There—someone’s there.”

The camera caught an unpleasant glare from a face peeking out the window.

No mistake.

It was Lee Haru.

She was holed up there.

*

Step, step.

I climbed the stairs alone.

I’d split from Defender and Da-jeong.

For a simple reason: if Haru or Seung-hwan saw Hong Jeong-ho, they might attack him on sight.

He was a public enemy, after all.

Defender really was someone who could only survive in Dies_Irae’s territory.

They would wait nearby, supporting me with drone recon.

There were no real threats inside the building.

A few primitive noise traps—tin cans strung on wire—but nothing that could stop me.

Still, Haru and Seung-hwan had been elite in New Seoul.

“Who is it?”

I was one floor below when a sharp voice rang out.

Haru’s voice.

“It’s me.”

Silence.

“It’s Park Gyu.”

A surprised voice shot back.

“Captain?!”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

I slowly lowered my weapon and waited for them to show themselves.

Haru peeked out.

Her face was gaunt, cheeks hollowed, but her eyes were still bright.

“Captain!”

She led me inside.

What I found wasn’t what I’d pictured.

From what Kim Hanna had said, I’d imagined Haru and Seung-hwan living like a newlywed couple.

That wasn’t the case.

There were more people—Haru, Seung-hwan, and four others.

Aside from a girl who seemed to be Awakened, I knew them all: the woman who’d supported the Awakened program, and two soldiers who’d guarded the Awakened district.

When Hong Jeong-ho staged his coup, they’d fled together and had been here ever since.

Supplies weren’t abundant.

There was some firewood, but not much, and ammo was even scarcer.

At first, I saw the extra mouths as a problem—but then I changed my mind.

We’d take everyone.

This time, I’d accept Dies_Irae’s coaching.

No more being too picky.

Picking only some from such a small group would look bad—and Seung-hwan and Haru wouldn’t agree anyway.

“I thought you were dead. Someone said you went into the Rift.”

Seung-hwan hadn’t lost much weight, but his complexion was dark—looked like liver trouble.

The health of everyone in this cramped hideout worried me.

At least they could all walk.

That meant at least four more fighters.

“Talk later—we’re heading somewhere else.”

Haru and Seung-hwan didn’t hesitate.

They knew they had bad neighbors.

I gave them time to pack, then called Defender. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

“We’ll have to go back on foot.”

“Yeah? Got a lot of people?”

“More than I expected.”

“Right. If someone like me gets exposed, it’ll just make things worse for you.”

“No need to say it like that.”

“...I’ll wait nearby.”

“Thanks.”

No vehicle, but with Da-jeong’s recon, the walk would be safer.

“All set, Captain,” Haru said briskly.

From the moment she saw me, her eyes had been full of hope.

It felt undeserved—but hope was still far off.

Even so, I answered simply,

“Let’s go.”

With Haru, Seung-hwan, and four new companions, we set out for my territory.

The journey was cold, dull, and full of unease, but we reached safety without any major trouble.

*

“It’s lively,” Kim Daram said, arms crossed, watching the newcomers in the bunker.

“Of course—it’s six more people.”

She gave me a sideways look.

“Don’t you think that’s too many at once?”

I gave an awkward laugh.

“What can I do? I couldn’t just leave them behind.”

“Ugh. I liked you better back when you were team leader. You didn’t have any gaps then.”

“...”

“Anyway, the best room’s ours. Non-negotiable.”

“Got it. That’s ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) guaranteed.”

Her irritation was understandable.

Even if unavoidable, such a rapid increase in numbers always caused trouble sooner or later.

Dies_Irae contacted me the day after I brought them in.

“Yo, Skeleton. Heard you brought in new blood—six of ’em?”

He sounded cheerful as ever.

He always seemed happiest when he had the chance to teach.

Since he was in charge here, I played along.

“Kind of just happened.”

“You know what happens when you get that many new people, right?”

“Yeah. I know.”

From his tone, I could tell another round of coaching was coming.

In group survival, Dies_Irae was the senior, and his group—however unpleasant—was still functional.

Might as well listen.

“Put a gap between the old members and the new. The old members must be on top. Critical. Show them who’s above and who’s below, and make sure they know it.”

As always, his methods were as brutal as he preached.

“Here’s how: set up a situation. Watch the newbies—there’ll be one who’s clumsy, dumb, complains too much. Keep notes. When the chance comes, crush them in front of everyone. Beat them, lynch them, whatever. Build your case, then make the punishment brutal. That’s what a warning looks like.”

Whether his way was right or wrong wasn’t something I cared to judge.

I had no interest, and not a shred of intent to follow it.

That’s what coaching is—it’s only as useful as what the listener chooses to take.

“Skeleton.”

It was Defender.

“I found a place to stay.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll be here about a month.”

Defender was proof.

No matter the advice, no matter the coaching, in the end, you’re the one who takes responsibility.

The one giving it never does.