---

During the move, our resources increased. The moths had gradually stockpiled resources, and we managed to secure a limited number of personnel.

For a moment, the thought crossed my mind that if we could just secure enough ammunition, a nomadic life of pillaging cities might not be so bad.

Of course, it was just a fleeting fantasy. A life of aimless wandering would be far too exhausting.

“Ouch.”

“Dad, my feet hurt.”

As evening fell, we set up a temporary campsite in an empty commercial building. My companions and their families groaned as they moved tables and chairs around.

We set up makeshift barricades. While the adults stacked the barricades, the kids meticulously tied the legs of chairs and tables with banner strings.

Then, we prepared food by adding firewood to the stove, cooked, and worried about blocking the light.

Every building in the world might belong to pillagers, but each time we move, there’s no shortage of temporary setups. It would be better to settle in a well-equipped place.

As I pondered this, the moths kneeling in the corner of the building spoke up quietly.

“What will happen to us?”

I turned to look at them. The moths gathered in the corner. A few of my companions stood six meters away, aiming their guns at them.

“There’s something you’ll need to do tomorrow. If you do it, we’ll let you go.”

It was a lie. Why would we let them go? They’re potential enemies with combat experience. Letting them go would do us no good.

The moths looked around with unreadable expressions, then calmly said, “We don’t know what you’ll make us do, but we need to eat to have the strength to work. At least give us some water.”

“No, it’s fine. You can manage without food for a day.”

These guys are disposable. No need to feed them. As I chuckled, the moths narrowed their eyes. I caught a glimpse of them subtly moving their hands or feet, but they soon slumped.

I laughed and approached them.

“What? Planning to eat and then run?”

“If possible. You’re planning to kill us after we finish the job, aren’t you?”

A blunt answer. At this point, simple lies won’t work. There’s a fundamental distrust between people, so every word is doubted.

I glanced at their limbs. Their fingers were tied with cable ties, their wrists with rope, and their ankles were bound with their own shoelaces like handcuffs. They could walk, but it was uncomfortable.

The restraints were designed to prevent any chance of escape.

Looking at their pale skin, I suddenly thought, ‘Should I hang them by the neck?’

Like a noose, tie a loop around their necks and hang them? If they tried to run or relaxed their bodies to sleep, they’d die?

But unfortunately, there was nothing to tie the noose to. The ceiling was bare.

I looked back at the moths.

“If you do well tomorrow, we might let you live.”

“Haha.”

The moths laughed dryly. They openly scanned the Immortal’s people and the building’s structure, looking for a chance to escape.

I gestured to Jeondohyeong.

“Tie them up more thoroughly.”

“They’re already tied up pretty well.”

“Not just their limbs, their necks too.”

Jeondohyeong looked at me puzzled, and I explained the noose I had in mind.

“You know that knot that tightens when pulled? Like a cowboy or executioner’s knot.”

“Yeah, but there’s nothing to hang it from on the ceiling.”

“Not the ceiling, around their necks.”

Make both ends of the rope into nooses and pair them up, tying the nooses around their necks. If one runs, the noose tightens, and if one dies, it becomes a gruesome burden.

Jeondohyeong obediently picked up the rope but let out a sigh of disgust.

“You’re really going this far?”

“They’re sleeping in the same space as us. If we make even a small mistake and give them any freedom, we’re dead.”

The moths, who had been quietly enduring, looked at me in disbelief and finally cursed.

“You’re insane.”

“We’re just being cautious.”

***

That night, I couldn’t sleep deeply. Not because the sleeping arrangements had changed, but because of the potential threat from the moths.

I kept waking up to check on the night watch and the moths. Then, in the early morning, an incident occurred.

“Neck, neck! I can’t breathe!”

Two men were flailing like fish, having pulled the noose in their sleep. The night watchman panicked and approached, so I quietly grabbed his shoulder.

“Ah! Who’s there!… Boss?”

“Can’t sleep with all the noise at night.”

My head was still foggy from briefly falling asleep. Even the faint lantern light looked blurry.

The blurry figure in front of me seemed to point at the flailing moths with his gun.

“They might die, so I thought I’d loosen the noose a bit. We need them alive for tomorrow.”

“No. To fight well tomorrow, we need to sleep well.”

Rubbing my eyes, I strode into the group of moths and crouched in front of the two men gasping for air. Their dilated pupils stared at me, and in the dim light of the deep night, only dark shadows reflected in their eyes.

“Help… me.”

“Be quiet when others are sleeping. Don’t you know basic manners? If you’re this noisy, I’ll have to shut your mouths myself.”

I grabbed their hair and pulled in opposite directions. The noose tightened. Now, these two moths couldn’t even whimper. They flailed their bound limbs but couldn’t resist properly.

How long had it been? After their breathing stopped, I tossed their heads to the ground.

A nearby moth, who had been stiffly pretending to sleep, twitched. I whispered.

“Don’t make noise, let them die. Whether they’re hungry, need the bathroom, or are being strangled, don’t pay attention. If they act up, shoot them. That’s your job now, not helping them.”

“Yes, yes.”

Half of them could die here, and it wouldn’t matter. We’ve already pillaged the resources. We don’t necessarily need them for combat. No, even if they were combat-capable, they could die.

Because the present moment is more important than future battles.

In fact, giving them any leeway would be a bigger problem. Why do so many movies show futuristic, humanitarian villains messing up by being too lenient?

“Hand over the night watch shift properly.”

“Yes.”

I glanced at the stiffened companion, who stood like a disciplined soldier, and returned to my sleeping spot. Thanks to the warning, the building was eerily quiet.

***

The next morning.

Everyone looked exhausted, walking weakly with dark circles under their eyes. Their concentration seemed scattered, and they lacked energy.

At least their slow pace meant they could manage.

I looked at the group of moths walking ahead. Paired up with red nooses around their necks, they staggered under the pressure of the gun barrels behind them.

If one fell, the rope would tighten, strangling both.

My companions stopped.

“What should we do?”

“How can we use people who can’t even walk properly in combat?”

I picked up a hammer and walked over, tapping their heads a few times. These moths were prisoners and potential threats. If they couldn’t be motivated by profit, fear would have to do.

I wiped the blood off the hammer onto one moth’s clothes and laughed.

The once defiant moths now looked drained. Their faces were gaunt, their eyes trembling, their clothes filthy.

They hadn’t eaten, barely drank, slept, or used the bathroom.

At some point, one moth screamed.

“Just kill us if you’re going to! Stop draining our blood! Why are you torturing us like this?”

“Torture?”

Me? When? I just took the necessary precautions. If it were torture, I wouldn’t have done it like this. I would’ve shone flashlights in their eyes all night…

No. I don’t torture. I genuinely didn’t understand and asked in confusion.

“Why would I torture you? What would I gain from it?”

It’s just a waste of time. Why bother? It’s not like I’m making scarecrows as threats or using them as bait to lure others.

The moth snarled.

“Then what is this? You’re just trampling on human rights!”

“You’re strange. Seems like you have a headache. Let me treat you.”

A few gentle taps with the hammer should fix it. The hammer softly tapped their skulls, and the moth stopped spouting nonsense.

“You have a job to do, remember? Or is your memory bad? Anyone else having trouble remembering?”

I looked around at the moths. They avoided my gaze. I returned to the combat cart and said briefly.

“Then keep walking. Don’t get in the way.”

We walked in silence for a while and arrived at the townhouse.

A small townhouse nestled at the end of a road leading up a mountain slope. Identical single-family homes lined both sides of the road.

The Real Estate Uncle pointed and said.

“That’s the townhouse.”

“It looks heavily guarded.”

I quietly observed the townhouse grounds.

The entrance road was blocked. A barricade made of cars. The two houses adjacent to the barricade seemed to function like watchtowers.

Indeed, there were shadowy figures on the townhouse rooftops. They seemed to have noticed us approaching and were moving busily.

‘Uphill. We’re at a lower position. Visibility and everything else is against us.’

But turning back wasn’t an option either. Construction site sound barriers and wooden fences surrounded the townhouse grounds.

“Let’s attack.”

“It doesn’t look easy. Are you sure?”

Park Yang-gun spoke worriedly. I grinned and pointed at the moths.

“Send these guys charging in front, and we’ll shoot from behind. We’ll see what weapons they have.”

 

---