Marauder of the Apocalypse-Chapter 86: Urban Warfare

Information updated continuously during our march.

The military had established an outpost in a building between the outskirts and downtown. They'd mounted a heavy machine gun on the roof instead of the expected 81mm mortar, completing their preparations for battle.

Infantry platoons took turns looting, sweeping through the city like a swarm of locusts.

Meanwhile, troops that might have been supply or transport units moved diligently like ants, carrying looted resources to the outpost and from there to the military base outside the city.

I shared all this information with the mercenaries, who shook their heads and made scattered comments.

"They manually carried a heavy machine gun? All the way from the base to that rooftop?"

"Don't modern infantry use lighter weapons these days? Where did they even get that from?"

"Probably salvaged it from some forgotten storage."

The veterans chuckled among themselves. Despite the military being our enemy, they seemed to be reminiscing about their own service days.

Sa Gi-hyeok, who'd never served, just tilted his head in confusion.

I pressed my cap down firmly, assessing the enemy's capabilities.

'The military has adapted to the apocalypse too.'

They'd reportedly seized bicycles and motorcycles for transport, even modifying them with carts.

Their armaments, organization, personnel, and movement patterns were unusual—nothing like standard operations. The looting platoon's movements were particularly bizarre. It all looked like a chimera stitched together from parts gathered from different places.

No, this military force actually was a chimera.

"How many soldiers were in this city originally?" I asked.

"Don't know exactly, but quite a lot."

I stared down at my hands, lost in thought.

The I-virus had reduced their numbers. Some troops had been deployed to critical national facilities or the front lines. Those who remained would have continued to dwindle.

These 300 soldiers were a chimera reconstructed from every remaining military personnel in the city. Some would have switched branches, others assigned to unfamiliar weapons.

Yet they couldn't be underestimated because...

'Chimeras are terrifying.'

This was a military chimera optimized for the apocalypse. Every modification to their weapons and tactics had a purpose.

To face this chimera, we needed to maximize human potential. Courage, ferocity, wisdom. My mind raced with righteous human intellect needed to defeat this monster.

Fire—the beginning of human civilization. With enough courage to face death together, we could burn down their outpost entirely. The ammunition would explode.

As these thoughts ran through my mind, the sky had grown dark. An apartment complex loomed against the burning sunset.

"We've arrived. It's getting late—what's the plan?"

"The military hasn't reached here yet. We'll establish our position first."

With that, we entered the sprawling apartment complex.

***

The world gradually darkened. The tall apartment buildings turned black like evil towers, casting deep shadows.

I gazed up at the rooftops, then tapped Park Yang-gun on the shoulder.

"Do you think anyone's living here?"

An apartment complex this size could easily house a survivor group. At minimum, some survivors might have claimed units as homes.

A professional thief like Park Yang-gun would detect signs of habitation better than anyone.

"Hard to say."

With his sharp night vision, Park Yang-gun turned his head repeatedly, sometimes narrowing his eyes as he looked up at the buildings.

"Something seems off though."

As he quickly scanned the grid-like arrangement of windows, his hand traced a line from the rooftop to the ground—a straight row of broken windows.

"They're broken in a pattern. Straight down in a line."

Definitely suspicious. Many windows had broken during the typhoon and monsoon season, but the breakage should be random. Windows don't shatter in a perfect vertical line unless someone caused it.

"Whether or not survivors are here, someone's definitely been looting the place."

"Right. Probably a building painter."

I nodded.

Someone who painted apartment exteriors. A person who would hang from the roof on ropes could leave marks like these.

Park Yang-gun pointed to another unit on a middle floor.

"That one's suspicious too. There's tape on the windows. Preparation for the typhoon."

"Just that one unit?"

"Yeah."

As we talked, the scattered mercenaries blinked at us and asked:

"So where and how do we set up the bombs?"

Is that really what matters right now? We had a treasure trove in front of us. Possibly survivors we could hunt.

I pulled out my gun. The mercenary who'd asked the question froze, and a strange tension descended. The mercenaries held their breath as they watched my gun.

When I slowly waved my weapon, their eyes followed. I grinned.

"We'll think about the bombs later. The military rests at night too, don't they? Why are we doing this dangerous work? For the spoils, right? Let's loot a few apartments first."

"...Spoils, you say?"

I pointed my gun at the apartment with taped windows, hearing the faint hope in their voices.

"Let's start with that one."

Probably a building painter. An inferior version of Park Yang-gun the professional thief. Someone I could kill without hesitation.

***

We climbed the emergency stairs with flashlights on. Park Yang-gun went ahead and struggled to open the front door.

"Couldn't have done this without a stolen drill."

He'd used an electric drill to break the lock mechanism at some point. Not a door lock that would respond to a taser gun.

The mercenaries, survivors with experience similar to mine, skillfully held their spears forward as they entered the apartment, deliberately making loud footsteps to draw out any zombies.

"No zombies here."

"Could still be people. Stay alert."

I walked in with my gun prominently displayed, leading by example.

The fading sunlight cast a dim glow through the windows. The scene before us resembled an expensive hotel rather than an apartment.

The spacious, luxurious home was covered in dust from neglect, and the tape on the windows that should have provided an unobstructed view created a strange disharmony.

Our busy footsteps echoed throughout the space.

Soon, a scream-like sound rang out.

"Found a body!"

"A body?"

It came from a room some distance away. I quickly pushed past the mercenaries and entered.

It was likely a student's room, with a desk, textbooks, and workbooks. On the soft bed lay a decomposing figure.

Park Yang-gun immediately picked up equipment from nearby—thick rope, a thin platform, and mounting devices.

"It's definitely a painter."

"Seems that way."

I searched the corpse and found a notebook. It appeared to be work-related, with names of apartment buildings, payment information, and contact details. As I flipped through it, I found diary entries that began at some point.

Interesting records.

I glanced briefly at the mercenaries and my companions, then waved my hand.

"Look for food and anything edible first."

"Yes, sir!"

The mercenaries scattered. Meanwhile, Park Yang-gun was fiddling with the painter's equipment, learning how to use it, while Sa Gi-hyeok and Do-hyung leisurely explored the apartment.

"Haha. I used to live in a place like this once. I wonder what happened to the people who lived here? Did they survive like I did?"

"Either dead or alive, I suppose."

I quietly read the painter's notebook, like reading someone else's screenplay.

'I was painting the apartment when the zombie outbreak occurred. Thought it was just a simple epidemic and continued working diligently for a while.'

Then his family turned into zombies, and only he escaped. Fortunately uninfected, the painter came to this apartment using his professional skills. By then, many residents had died or fled.

Unable to cope with the shock, the painter holed up in the apartment and managed to survive. When food ran out, he stole from one floor at a time.

But he wrote that his health deteriorated because he couldn't take his medication, and that he heard hallucinations of his zombified family wailing... That was the end.

"Died from a chronic condition."

Health truly is everything. I put the painter's notebook in my pocket without much emotion.

By then, the search of the apartment was complete.

"We've gathered everything."

"Let's see."

At the mercenary's call, I quickly headed to the spacious living room. There was some food collected there.

Ramen approaching its expiration date, rice, canned goods, kimchi. There was even pet food, which people could eat in a pinch. Also some expensive or unusual spices.

I picked up a spice container and tilted my head. I could recognize expensive salt or pepper, but I wasn't sure what this was. It seemed familiar from cooking shows.

'Don't know what it is, but it'll be useful. At least it'll make boring food taste different.'

A mercenary nervously pointed to the refrigerator.

"There's a lot in the fridge too, but it's all spoiled. Meat, milk, eggs, side dishes—all inedible."

"It would be strange if they weren't spoiled. Let's divide everything equally."

I tried to share things fairly. I wasn't in urgent need of food anyway.

Suddenly, I slapped my forehead.

"Ah, we don't have bags. Let's empty our bags. If we're taking these things, we should set up the explosives first."

It might seem like our objective had changed, but that was just an impression. We were doing multiple things at once.

"How do we set up the explosives...?"

The mercenaries, who had been salivating over the food, suddenly tensed up and carefully set down their bags. I turned to Sa Gi-hyeok and Park Yang-gun.

"Mr. Sa Gi-hyeok, Mr. Park. I need your advice."

"Me? I don't know anything about this."

"Why me?"

I returned their incredulous looks with an equally puzzled expression.

Isn't it obvious? A con artist who manipulates people's desires, a thief who steals valuable items—who would know better how to disguise bombs?

With no choice, I explained:

"Make the bombs that explode when opened look like valuable items or food, or make people curious enough to open them."

"Ah."

A short exclamation. Sa Gi-hyeok scratched his head and looked around.

"Could we get military uniforms? If there was a soldier's corpse lying in the apartment, people wouldn't want to touch it. We could also write something military-like on the box. Something about communications security?"

"Communications security is about calls—never mind."

Then Park Yang-gun, after thinking carefully, spoke up.

"An apartment unit close to the main entrance, around the third floor. That's the best spot. They'll enter from the lower floors first."

"I'll leave it all to you both."

I didn't need to waste mental energy on this. That's what companions were for.

I needed to think about larger attack methods or when to set the time bombs.

'This place has induction stoves, not gas ranges, so we can't blow up gas pipes. The boiler? No, a poorly controlled fire could damage the firearms. The ammunition could explode.'

Poison was tricky too. It would need to be directly injected, ingested, or have an incubation period. Fine if the goal was just killing, but I needed to wipe out the platoon and steal their guns.

I couldn't wait for them to die from poison.

Then a thought struck me.

'A platoon. Around thirty people? And we have about a dozen mercenaries.'

If we could just kill 20 of them, that would be enough. At that point, they wouldn't be able to recover the bodies before retreating, and we could get plenty of guns.