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There are many factors to consider.

First, these kids.

“If you even twitch a finger, you’re dead.”

I glared at the kids gathered in front of me without blinking. They got too close. If they suddenly pulled out a syringe or water gun and attacked me, it would be dangerous.

“…”

“…”

The kids stood still like statues. They didn’t cry or try to run away. They just acted with their eyes. Shaky pupils, pitiful expressions.

A mental attack appealing not just to me but to all the mercenaries. Their acting is top-notch.

I trudged around, circling the kids, moving behind them. Before I knew it, my handgun was aimed at the back of their heads.

But my gaze was fixed on the mercenaries beyond the kids. The second factor to consider.

The mercenaries’ reactions were almost identical.

“Hmm.”

“Uh…”

Mercenaries who had or once had kids, as well as younger mercenaries without kids, showed discomfort in their eyes but couldn’t bring themselves to stop me. They seemed suspicious.

Do they think I’m acting for the sake of momentum or a safe approach?

“Have they not grasped the situation yet? Are they deliberately not thinking of this as the same old pillaging?”

If so, I’ll give them time. It’s an initiation, a test, an exam. I’ll give them room to solve the problem.

I smirked and returned to the combat cart. Grabbing the cart, I aimed the machine gun at the kids.

“Students, lead us to your base. I’ll burn all your uniforms. I can let other things slide, but not the uniforms.”

“…Okay.”

The kids exchanged glances and slowly nodded.

The mercenaries reacted ambiguously, glancing at the kids and swallowing hard.

The sound of the cart being pushed, the clatter of gear, and heavy footsteps were accompanied by the mercenaries’ voices.

“Boss, what are we going to do? This is… a bit much.”

“We do what we always do.”

Since the mercenaries still seemed unsure, I firmly gave them a hint. Like always, we kill others and take their food to fill our own bellies.

“Do we really have to? Look at these kids. They’re starving. There’s nothing to gain here.”

“They’re not even resisting…”

I closed my mouth and quietly observed the mercenaries.

The mercenaries’ steps were strangely slow. Because of that, the short distance to the kids’ hideout felt longer, and the mercenaries began to grasp the situation.

Anyway, we got a tip, and this is a livelihood business, so we have to kill them.

“…It’s just work. If we give up on this, our entire operation could collapse. Besides, since when were we ever kind? We survived by killing people. It’s the same thing.”

“We’re just tools. The real bad guy is the one who tipped us off about these kids.”

Mercenaries turning a blind eye, rationalizing, and shifting blame. They pass.

The mercenaries’ conversation must have reached the kids. The kids’ movements became awkward. Their already slow steps slowed even more, and their shaky limbs stiffened.

A high school girl tightly held a younger child’s hand.

The expressions of some mercenaries darkened upon seeing that. Humans with a conscience. Not bad.

“Just a little push is needed.”

If I push them off the cliff with me, it’s over. Like snapping a rubber band, the more upright they are, the faster and more dangerously they’ll fall.

I coldly engraved the mercenaries’ eyes and gestures in my mind.

The most dangerous person hasn’t shown up yet. Someone like me would skillfully hide their true intentions, so they wouldn’t reveal themselves easily. Their true nature will only surface when it’s time to kill the kids.

The time for their true nature to be exposed is approaching. Slowly, the base where the teacher and kids live came into view.

I clicked the safety off the machine gun and pulled the trigger a few times.

“Students, walk faster.”

***

The teacher and kids’ base was a street resembling a traditional market.

A market with faded, old signs, buildings no taller than three stories, a floor littered with trash, scrap metal, and dirt, and narrow, maze-like alleys.

A terrain both disadvantageous and advantageous for survival.

While busy keeping an eye on the kids and observing the mercenaries, a thought crossed my mind.

“What kind of person is this teacher?”

A person who taught the kids to camouflage. A person who seems to survive on the food the kids risk their lives to obtain. Perhaps this teacher is the enemy to be most wary of.

“We’re here.”

A high school student spoke. As if matching her voice, laughter and conversation from the kids echoed from the second floor of the market.

I let out a hollow laugh.

“The teacher’s putting on quite a show.”

A shabby market street swept by zombies at the start of the outbreak. Kids living together there. The bright voices of kids that could soften even the malice of those who came to pillage.

Isn’t this almost pastor-level acting?

“What kind of show…”

I ignored Jeondohyeong’s muttering. This isn’t the time to care about such things.

“Jeondohyeong, Sajihyeok, Uncle Park Yang-gun. Guard the cart here and keep an eye out for anyone approaching.”

I left the verified comrades outside. They don’t need to be tested again. What’s important now are the mercenaries and the kids.

I smirked, aiming my handgun at the back of the kids’ heads.

“You guys go upstairs. Mercenaries, follow me.”

“…”

Still slow steps. We moved slowly. Silence fell on the spiderweb-covered, old stairs. In contrast, with each step up, the voices of the kids and the teacher grew louder.

“It’s mine!”

“Yeah, but I’m playing with it now.”

The sound of a child running around.

“Teacher, do we really have to study? What’s the point of this in today’s world?”

“It’s more fun to go out and gather resources. I want to give up studying and just do that. Can’t I do that every day?”

The voices of students close to adulthood complaining.

“Kids, don’t run too much. And you, let’s still study. You’re a student. Students should do what students do.”

“If we do well, can we join the alliance?”

“Of course.”

The voice of a young woman who seemed to be the teacher.

“Ruthless, absolutely ruthless. They’re acting even in their daily lives, not knowing when pillagers might come.”

We reached the second floor. Pressing the back of a hesitating student’s head with my handgun, the kids stumbled inside.

All the noise died down. We had entered the room where they lived.

The kids who had been playing, the kids flipping through books, the teacher in a floral-patterned dress. They all stopped and looked at us.

I smiled cheerfully and fired a shot into the ceiling.

“Hands up and kneel. Start tying them up one by one. No exceptions.”

***

There was no resistance. The teacher, the kids, and the mercenaries all acted according to their roles.

The teacher and kids, as test subjects, remained completely non-resistant, attacking our minds, while the mercenaries trembled as they tied the teacher and kids’ wrists with rope.

The mercenaries moved somewhat skillfully when restraining high school students or the teacher, but when it came to making elementary school kids or young children kneel and tying them up, they moved like a buffering video.

I alternated between observing the room and the teacher with interest.

“Kids’ mats? Did they rip these off from a kindergarten?”

The room looked exactly like a kindergarten. Soft, colorful kids’ mats covered the floor. Shelves held books the kids studied and small potted plants.

A perfectly peaceful atmosphere, devoid of any sense of malice. In other words, this room was a movie set designed according to the teacher’s intentions and goals. Though I was the one writing the script.

“Kids, it’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

The teacher calmly comforted the kids before looking up at me.

“Why have you come here? As you can see, we have nothing and pose no threat to you.”

“I came because of the uniforms. I hate uniforms.”

Now that they’re tied up, the teacher and kids are no longer my concern. From now on, I only need to focus on the mercenaries. I stood slightly behind the mercenaries, observing their movements.

The gun barrels aimed at the kids were unsteady. Some lowered their guns to aim at the floor or subtly aimed between people.

“If they’re like me, it’s not yet time to reveal their true nature.”

The teacher tried to explain.

“If we’ve inconvenienced you, I’m sorry. It’s just that schools are closed now, and I wanted the kids to feel a bit of their school days…”

“Too much talking. Does anyone have tape?”

The mercenaries stood still, gauging the situation. I looked to see if anyone would actively help me, but no one did. It seems the test won’t be complete until we start shooting.

“If not… Teacher, students, close your eyes and bow your heads. Don’t say a word.”

That’s when it happened. A Cup Noodles Mercenary with a young child clenched his eyes shut, lowered his gun, and stepped forward.

“I can’t do this. I really can’t. These kids are the same age as my child. I can’t.”

“Me too… We’re not out of food yet… Executing them like this…”

Several other mercenaries also took their fingers off the triggers.

There were many reasons. The instinct to protect children, the lack of resistance, the absence of immediate hunger.

But more people remained silent and turned a blind eye. If this were the early days of the apocalypse, more would have opposed, but it’s been six months since the apocalypse began.

Enough time for consciences to erode.

I nodded understandingly at the opposing mercenaries and let out a heavy sigh.

“I understand. But you have to do it.”

“I can’t.”

I grabbed the Cup Noodles Mercenary’s head and forced him to look at the teacher and kids. Specifically, at a child the same age as his own.

“Open your eyes wide and look. That child. The one who looks like your son.”

I crafted words to push the dissenters off the cliff. Speaking softly but clearly, like Sajihyeok, so everyone could hear.

“How do you think that child survived? What did they eat to survive? The food your child should eat, the clothes your child should wear, your child’s things.”

What’s mine is mine. What’s yours is mine. So the resources you used while alive are stolen from me.

“That child made your child starve. Will starve your child. Took all the resources your child should have. Will you sacrifice your child for someone else’s?”

I reached out and grabbed the Cup Noodles Mercenary’s gun barrel, aiming it at the child. The barrel shook uncontrollably but couldn’t escape my grip. It just trembled, aimed at the child.

The crown of the bowed child’s head. The Cup Noodles Mercenary’s eyes reflected the child’s head, his pupils shaking as if in an earthquake.

“You’re not killing a child. You’re killing the enemy who exploited and stole the food your child should eat.”

“Th-that…”

A meaningless groan escaped.

The teacher jerked her head up and glared at me. Her sharp voice stabbed at our consciences like a knife.

“That’s not true! This isn’t that kind of situation!”

“Yes, it is.”

I looked around at the mercenaries, meeting their eyes.

“It’s the season of famine. Kill or be killed. One or the other.”

“…”

The mercenaries who had turned a blind eye closed their eyes and shouldered their guns. The opposing mercenaries, swept up in the atmosphere, clumsily aimed their guns.

“Don’t! Stop!”

The teacher’s voice was a convincing sound effect.

“Everyone, shoulder your guns, aim, close your eyes, hold your breath, and put your finger on the trigger.”

I demonstrated by moving the Cup Noodles Mercenary’s body. Pressing the stock to his shoulder, aiming the barrel at the kneeling heads, closing his eyes, and placing his finger on the trigger.

The mercenaries slowly followed my instructions. Their eyes, visible above their masks, were tightly shut. Their breathing seemed to stop.

“Count to three and gently pull the trigger.”

I counted.

“Three, two, one.”

A moment of silence. The teacher screamed and threw herself in front of the kids. The gunshots followed. After the gunshots, I pressed the Cup Noodles Mercenary’s finger to fire, observing the mercenaries one by one.

Everyone had their eyes closed, moving purely on conscience.

I looked at one young mercenary. His expression was blank, his shooting posture exemplary.

“The first one to shoot. You’re on the blacklist.”

The gunfire continued until the bullets ran out. Rough breaths erupted from all around. No one dared to open their eyes.

I tapped a few mercenaries to wrap things up. Those who didn’t shoot until the end.

“You guys, finish them off.”

 

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