It had been a decent trip.

I got the information I wanted, and I even picked up a connection with Nam Ban-jang of the Legion faction—someone I’d otherwise never have crossed paths with.

Most of all, finding someone who could help me keep the spark of SkeltonNet alive was such a stroke of luck that I could barely stop myself from humming on the way back.

But anyone living in the Apocalypse knows this: misfortune is always close by, and that misfortune usually means death.

The moment I stepped back into my territory, I felt my blood freeze.

There were signs of intrusion.

A few footprints led up the gentle slope toward the hill.

“......”

No footprints led back.

Which meant whoever left them was still inside my territory.

Clack!

I don’t like assuming the worst, but I had to be ready for it.

Readiness doesn’t come easy, even for me. Still, figuring out the situation took priority.

I stashed my pack behind a bare-branched tree, raised my rifle, and scanned the bunker on the hilltop.

No people in sight—but that didn’t mean I could relax.

From that spot you could see the armored vehicle Nam Ban-jang had parked two kilometers away.

If they’d been watching, they might’ve seen me get out of it and head this way.

Hunters have sharp eyesight, sharper than normal, but even we can’t sense eyes watching from two kilometers off. Not even sensory-types can.

So I had to assume I’d been spotted.

The footprints suggested four people.

Judging from shoe sizes, three men and one woman—or a youth.

But even that wasn’t trustworthy.

Experienced survivors sometimes fake footprints, reducing or multiplying them like sleight of hand.

There could be more than I thought.

Once again, I felt the shift inside me.

Personal ID: 6TH_DIV_HQ-RERV_009

Chhhzzzt—

“Hello? Anyone there?”

“Oh, Hunter Park! What is it? Forget something?”

“Not quite. I think there might be intruders near where I live. Sorry to trouble you, but could you stand by a moment?”

Definitely shameless of me.

Call it brazen, maybe.

In the past, I would’ve handled even worse alone.

“Intruders?”

“I’m not sure yet. I’ll get back to you shortly.”

Thinking it over, this was the smart move.

Shameless, yes. But when life or death is on the line, the process doesn’t matter—only the outcome. People forget the process when the outcome’s good.

Better they call me shameless than I end up dead.

“Want us to come now?”

Nam Ban-jang replied instantly.

“Wait. Please hold. Let me check first.”

Insurance is insurance.

You only use it when there’s no other answer.

But asking favors from someone tied to you by interests—that’s a debt.

Just by calling, I owed him.

And debt’s best kept small. Spoken like someone who’s lived as a multi-debtor hounded by collectors.

But not summoning them wasn’t only about avoiding debt.

I knew my bunker better than anyone. I’d chosen the site, built it, ran it. Ha Tae-hoon had lent a hand, but no one had simulated as many battles here as I had.

To be blunt, the one best equipped to breach my bunker... was me.

I’d made it into a fortress, but no fortress is without weaknesses.

“...Hoo.”

Two degrees Celsius. Cold enough—but my body ran hot. I couldn’t let myself feel the chill.

I stayed low behind cover and studied the slope leading to the bunker.

No one visible. Not even on the monitors.

Which meant they were hidden.

Two possibilities: they’d somehow tracked me by sound alone, or they’d set up in a blind spot to ambush me the moment I entered.

The latter was more likely.

Even with rifles, putting a hole in someone from hundreds of meters isn’t simple.

If they’d seen me arrive with Nam Ban-jang’s vehicle, they’d be extra cautious. Call reinforcements, and they’d risk being cornered.

Nam Ban-jang had unintentionally given me an edge just by showing up. Without him, they might’ve already opened fire.

Refugee firefights aren’t like ours. Not neat or professional.

They hunker down and only fire single, sharp shots when you’re exposed, tying you in place.

Their fights drag on—an hour at least, sometimes a full day—until someone finally breaks.

Every bullet matters when you can’t spray them.

Given all this, the intruders seemed to be planning a one-strike ambush. A rational choice.

The southern approach was obvious—an open slope with no cover, good for defenders like me.

Mid-slope, where the ground leveled out, there were decoy bunkers, Ha Tae-hoon’s house, collapsed walls—all usable cover for defenders. Perfect ambush terrain.

But this was my territory.

And there was another way in: the northern cliffside by the stream.

Steep, treacherous, hard to climb—and fatal if caught halfway.

Not a route anyone would take unless they knew it.

But I knew it. I knew the hidden goat-paths that made it passable.

I used to have claymores rigged there, but I dismantled them when I moved to Seoul. Ha Tae-hoon had cleared the rest later.

They’d use that route.

And I’d climbed it myself, so I knew the best vantage points.

Sticking close to the hillside shadow, I circled around and started up the northern path.

The stream was frozen over, water trickling beneath the ice. Spring was near.

I slung my rifle backward, tightened the strap, drew my pistol.

Not to fight with—just to fire quick and scare them if I was spotted.

No one overhead. They’d be waiting mid-slope.

I climbed, following the natural contours, branches and roots as handholds.

What looked like sheer cliff had subtle paths if you knew where to step.

I’d learned this trail in summer, climbing it when it was green.

Back then, I’d even thought about booby-trapping each point. Overly paranoid.

I’d feared people too much.

Now, facing possible hostiles, I wasn’t half as afraid.

That was then. This was now.

I was ready for whatever outcome awaited. The old Professor’s cold clarity was still in me.

By the time I looked down, the frozen stream was far below—like the eighth floor of an apartment. High enough to kill me if I fell.

Almost at the top.

I stilled my breath, straining my ears.

Voices.

“Been quiet for a while.”

So they were there.

From the 8th decoy bunker entrance—behind a natural cover I’d set.

“Hey, Jae-hong, didn’t you say someone came this way?”

Another voice, from the collapsed wall opposite. Perfect crossfire. Exactly as I’d expected.

“Yeah, we saw him get out of that jeep and head here. All of us saw.”

A young voice. From behind a trash pile twenty meters away.

Four footprints. Three located.

Where was the fourth?

“Damn, it’s freezing.”

And then the fourth spoke.

A woman. Tired, irritable.

From right in front of my bunker.

Had they found it?

Didn’t matter. Just hearing her there made a savage, Defender-like rage coil in me.

I holstered the pistol, loosened my rifle strap.

I’d already decided: kill them all.

Four against one, but I had the advantage.

I raised my rifle, sighted on the bucket-hat man in the 8th bunker, and touched the trigger.

“Can’t we just talk it out?”

The woman’s voice rang from the bunker’s front.

My finger froze.

“What if he’s military? You mess with him and get retaliation, then what? Let’s just leave this dump and head to Sejong. There’s nothing here.”

Irony.

The same voice that sparked my killing intent now smothered it.

There was room to talk.

They hadn’t found my bunker. Just stumbled on the hill, picked it ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) for cover—at the exact moment I returned.

“......”

I lifted my radio.

Chhhzzzt—

The noise carried to all the ambushers.

I cranked the volume.

“Yes? Should we come now?” Nam Ban-jang’s flat voice echoed across the hillside.

“Hold on. I’ll try talking first.”

I called out past my cover.

“This is a Sejong-administered checkpoint.”

Reactions rippled across their side.

“We don’t want trouble. Leave.”

Then into the radio:

“Nam Ban-jang, could you honk a few times?”

Baaang— Baaaaang— Baaaaaang—

The armored car’s horn blared not far off.

“We’ll go! We’re leaving now!” the woman called. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

The men hesitated. They didn’t want to abandon their plan.

“What are you doing? You want to fight soldiers? Let’s just head to Sejong. Stay here and you’ll just get eaten by Mutations.”

They owed her.

Reluctantly, the men lowered their guns and began retreating.

Sleds dragged in the snow.

“Don’t shoot! We’re leaving!”

When they were gone, I checked the bunker again.

No signs of intrusion. Relief washed over me.

“Thank you, Nam Ban-jang. I’ll repay this favor someday.”

“Think nothing of it. I’ll stay put for a while. Refugees are unpredictable.”

Kindness, sure—but another debt. Not something to dwell on now.

“Mark Two.”

No response from the bunker.

“Baduk.”

The lock disengaged.

The door opened. A girl looked out—like a miniature Woo Min-hee, sleepy-eyed.

“You’re back?”

“......”

Definitely her bloodline.

Woo Min-hee wasn’t fearless or strong-willed—she simply lacked the receptors for fear.

Without that quirk, she’d have stripped in China or died long ago.

I smiled, remembering my junior’s odd trait.

“Been doing okay?”

I patted her head, approached the sentry gun, checked the battery. Still warm.

Typical Woo Min-hee—sloppy on the surface, meticulous underneath.

“What should we eat tonight?”

“Steak.”

I decided to be grateful for this ordinary little miracle.

Another reminder—cold and sharp—of what it means to live in the Apocalypse.