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I carefully prepared my weapons first. I put on a bulletproof vest, draped a leather jacket over it, and wore a bulletproof helmet. I also slipped on leather gloves and checked each of my secondary weapons one by one.

A hammer and a handgun. The machine gun is in the combat cart.

I casually asked Sajihyeok as I passed by.

“What’s the intel? Number of enemies, their armament level. How is it?”

“There’s one adult, a teacher, and the rest are all kids. High schoolers, middle schoolers, elementary schoolers. The teacher apparently took in kids who lost their parents and were wandering the streets. About 10 of them?”

I tightly gripped the hammer I had temporarily placed on the desk while getting dressed. I spoke gravely.

“We can’t let our guard down.”

We really can’t let our guard down. Isn’t this the apocalypse? Every human has the same survival experience as me. Men, women, the elderly, kids—all survivors who’ve lived through everything since the beginning of the apocalypse, just like me.

Jeondohyeong sighed as if he was about to say something, and Sajihyeok awkwardly scratched his neatly shaved head.

“They’re just kids. No need to go all out…”

“No. Kids are scarier. And numbers can’t be ignored. A knife wielded by a kid is just as sharp.”

Everyone’s a survivor. In fact, the kids might have adapted to the world more flexibly than I have.

“Do we know their armament level?”

“Well, no. They’ve always avoided fights, so we haven’t had a chance to confirm. From what we’ve seen, they only have baseball bats and wooden sticks.”

I swung the hammer in the air.

“So, they could have small weapons hidden on them. Handguns, water guns, syringes, stuff like that.”

“What? No way.”

Jeondohyeong let out a deep sigh and turned his head as if he couldn’t bear to watch. Sajihyeok chuckled and said to Jeondohyeong.

“You know how he is. As the saying goes, a pig only sees pigs. Or, well, never mind.”

Jeondohyeong burst out laughing. I blinked in disbelief, then put the hammer in my pocket.

“Well, being suspicious isn’t a bad thing, right?”

“That was a compliment. I sometimes struggle with expressing myself, and I messed up again.”

What kind of person gives compliments like that? But Sajihyeok has always been like this, so I waved my hand and let it slide.

“Call all the mercenaries. They have numbers on their side, so we can’t afford to be outnumbered.”

We should also plan our tactics to keep our distance. Since we don’t know what the kids might be hiding, we’ll make the most of the rifle’s range.

“Let’s take them out safely from a distance.”

Then Jeondohyeong took a deep breath and raised his hand slightly.

“Wait a second. Do we really have to kill them? It seems like it’ll just cause trouble.”

“Why?”

I asked seriously. I’m not perfect, so there might be something I haven’t considered. That’s what comrades are for—to fill in the gaps.

Jeondohyeong glanced outside. The villa where the other mercenaries lived.

“They’re just kids. Killing them will only hurt our reputation. Some of the mercenaries here have kids of their own.”

“…”

I fell into thought. He had a point. Protecting children is almost instinctual for humans, and crossing that line makes you seem less than human.

I glanced at Sajihyeok, and he also seemed reluctant. Despite eagerly gathering intel, he averted his gaze as if avoiding responsibility.

“I don’t know. It’s up to you, Dain. I just relayed the information.”

It felt like a defense mechanism to avoid responsibility or guilt. If even a scammer who led apartment complex residents to their deaths or a ruthless electric thief acts like this…

I pondered for a moment, then adjusted my outfit. The bulletproof vest, jacket, and pants shouldn’t hinder my movement.

“We’ll kill them. All of them.”

“What? Why?”

Jeondohyeong reached out as if to stop me. I gave him a sidelong glance and calmly replied.

“You asked earlier if I really consider the mercenaries comrades. Let’s find out.”

Crossing the line together creates a bond of sorts. Those who can’t cross it will be ostracized. And once you cross it, there’s no going back. It’s like falling off a cliff.

This is a good opportunity to test the mercenaries. In a way, this is the real initiation.

“Go gather the mercenaries quickly. Don’t give them the full details.”

“Yes.”

Sajihyeok left. Jeondohyeong stood frozen. I walked past him, tucking my handgun into my vest.

“I’m not doing this because I want to kill people. We have to kill others so the people here don’t starve.”

***

The mercenaries gathered one by one on the roadside. I sat on the car hood, pushing and pulling the combat cart with my foot as I observed them.

People whose names I couldn’t even remember.

The only one who stood out was the Cup Noodles Mercenary. The guy who suggested boiling cup noodles while cremating corpses in the river area, but also saved ketchup packets from fast-food joints to give to his kid.

How would these people react? Would they oppose like Jeondohyeong? Would they turn a blind eye like Sajihyeok? Or would they act like me?

‘Turning a blind eye isn’t bad. They’re just swept up in the moment. Those who oppose can be pushed aside, and if they can’t be pushed, they’ll just leave. The most dangerous ones…’

People like me are the most dangerous.

They’re the top priority for elimination. People without brakes, who can betray at any moment for their own reasons. And it’ll be fatal.

The armed mercenaries swallowed nervously, their tension palpable.

“Who are we up against? If we all need to move, it must be a tough opponent.”

“Are we raiding soldiers? To replenish ammo?”

I let out a hearty laugh.

“They’re not tough. In fact, they’re easy. Just a bit numerous.”

“How many are we talking…?”

“A little over 10?”

A strange look crossed the mercenaries’ eyes. Honestly, it’s just 10 people. If they’re armed with rifles, they’re not much of a threat.

“With 10, we can just use the machine gun…”

“We need to move supplies. The resources we’ll get this time are substantial. At least a day’s worth of food for 10 people, and the maximum is beyond estimation.”

The mercenaries finally grinned and adjusted their guns.

“Then we’ll all go.”

And so, we left Villa Street with light steps. Since the target location was quite a distance away, we chatted as we walked.

“What’s the target armed with? We still need to be careful with handguns, right?”

“Ah, don’t worry. Just baseball bats and pipes.”

Laughter filled the air. The mercenaries clattered their guns, pretending to shoot.

“Easy. If they don’t have guns, it’ll be a piece of cake.”

“No need for a detailed plan. The numbers are similar, and we have overwhelming firepower.”

They were excited at the thought of easily acquiring a lot of resources.

Jeondohyeong’s eyes twitched as he watched them. He must’ve been thinking all sorts of things.

Then Park Yang-gun, wearing a bucket hat, quietly approached and stood beside me. He whispered in a low voice, as if sharing a secret.

“Dain, what’s your plan? Your eyes look just like when you were about to kill the pastor.”

“Do my eyes say that?”

I brought my gloved hand to my eyes, then lowered it. When I was about to kill the pastor, when I recruited Park Yang-gun… I must’ve been excited at the thought of recruiting a thief.

“…Kind of.”

Anyway, isn’t this the day when mere subordinates and manpower become true comrades?

Park Yang-gun bowed his head and spoke softly.

“Who are you planning to kill this time? There’s no one like the pastor. If there were, we’d have a hard time dealing with them too.”

“It’s not like that. The enemy isn’t that dangerous. Just be careful of unexpected close-range ambushes.”

He seemed worried about the danger of the fight. Even though I only told the truth, Park Yang-gun quietly started moving to the back of the formation.

“I’ll keep watch from the back.”

“Sure, as you please.”

“Who on earth are we up against…?”

Park Yang-gun’s muttering stopped. His head was slightly bowed, his eyes shadowed by the brim of his hat.

At the same time, the lighthearted and cheerful voices of the mercenaries also stopped.

I turned my head and saw our target.

A few students in uniforms. Moving with crumpled black bags, carrying something—an enemy we couldn’t let our guard down against, and a litmus test for the mercenaries’ humanity.

I grinned and spoke cheerfully.

“There they are. Our target. Didn’t I tell you? An easy target with lots of resources.”

“…”

No response came. An inexplicable silence.

I locked eyes with the students ahead. They noticed us and surrendered, lowering their weapons. They raised their hands and cautiously stepped back.

“Students! If you don’t want to get shot, stop right there!”

***

“Come here.”

The students obediently approached. A mix of middle and high schoolers, boys and girls, and one young child.

Their thin, emaciated bodies were draped in old, dirty uniforms. A high school girl held the young child carefully and bowed her head.

“Hello.”

“Uh, yeah. Hi.”

One of the mercenaries awkwardly greeted them, then looked at me as if asking if this was right. The other mercenaries also seemed a bit flustered. The cheerful chatter had completely stopped.

I carefully observed the mercenaries’ reactions while also keeping an eye on the students. Something felt off.

A male high school student quickly handed over a black plastic bag.

“Is this what you want? Take it. But, um, could you leave a little for us? Just enough for the youngest…”

No mercenary reached for the bag. Instead, I stepped forward and took it, peeking inside. Food gathered through scavenging.

That wasn’t important. I looked up and scanned the students from head to toe.

“You’re wearing uniforms?”

“Yes, ah, yes. Sorry if it bothers you.”

“Sorry.”

Even the young child bowed and apologized with a lisp. I chuckled.

‘Psychological warfare?’

What’s so special about uniforms? They offer no defense. Why insist on wearing them when the world is full of corpses and clothes?

Their non-resistant attitude, overly submissive demeanor, and the inclusion of a young child—it all added up.

Clothes that scream “minors,” non-confrontational behavior, psychological attacks that stab at your conscience.

This is all cultivated. It’s all a disguise. A disguise that appeals to human instincts and conscience. Even our mercenaries fell for it.

‘They’re not thin because they’re starving. They’re deliberately maintaining that weight.’

This kind of disguise is new to me. Not warning colors, not camouflage. But it’s effective.

“Uh, boss. Can we, um, have a quick meeting?”

“I, I have candy, no, I need to give it to my son, no…”

The humans wavered.

I chuckled and recalled memories from the past. I dredged up old emotions. Back when the world was normal, when I tried to focus on a script, students would chatter noisily outside the window.

I drew my handgun and aimed it at the forehead of the student who handed over the bag. My voice dripped with malice.

“I hate uniforms. And I hate kids even more.”

Let’s see. Are there any humans like me among the mercenaries who need to be cut down? Who are the ones I need to push over the edge?

 

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