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Combat doesn’t start with gunfire. The meeting dragged on, with discussions about weapon crafting, intel gathering, and strategy planning pouring out endlessly.

The military felt like an infantry battalion. The direction they’d come from, the expected roads. Surveillance using people and drones. A map marking dangerous zombie hordes.

“There are cooperative survivors. Give them radios so we can get quick updates.”

“We’ll also monitor with drones.”

“Then let’s station the intel and communications team here at the hospital.”

The general hospital became the command center. The Delivery Vigilante Group handled transport, scavengers managed resource supply, and productive organizations crafted weapons.

Archers took night raids, police handled base defense, and mercenaries tackled the heavy lifting.

As the meeting wrapped up, the topic of mercenaries came up. The Police Officer Leader stroked his shotgun and glanced at me.

“The mercenaries’ job is simple. Patrol the streets and set traps at designated locations.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted.”

“We’ll recruit and assign people to you. We’ll provide radios, but no weapons.”

Of course. I smirked. I already had plenty of weapons stockpiled. Besides, I didn’t necessarily need to get weapons from them.

“Weapons? Just kill some soldiers and take theirs.”

Military-grade weapons are the best, after all. And of course, loot belongs to those who fight for it.

People fell silent for a moment, then nodded.

“Equipment looted from direct combat should go to the mercenaries. If they fight directly, that is.”

***

Perhaps because the formidable military was approaching, everything moved quickly. In just a day, the Alliance had already recruited mercenaries and presented them to me.

People with empty stomachs, those who saw combat as an opportunity, those clinging to the Alliance—all sorts gathered at the general hospital. Even though we only gathered those with some connection to the Alliance, the numbers were significant.

I looked them over.

“The rumors were true. The knights of war have come to kill people.”

“Every day is a war anyway.”

“If we just survive…”

Some muttered the doomsday theories I’d spread earlier, while others assessed the reality and made gambles.

‘Their condition isn’t great.’

Maybe it was because I’d seen the top-tier survivors of the Alliance. I wasn’t impressed. They looked physically weak from hunger, and their spirits seemed fragile.

But their desperation made them useful.

I briefly recalled my companion, Sajihyeok. I’d learned a bit from him. How to stir people’s greed. Once you dispel their initial doubts and earn their trust, they deceive themselves.

I also remembered the techniques of Professor Kim, a skilled psychological manipulator.

‘Since I can’t win them over instantly, I’ll have to work on them slowly.’

I glanced at my companions, then stepped forward and raised my voice.

“I’m Dain, the mercenary officer appointed by the Alliance’s command. From now on, I’ll be leading you.”

The gathered mercenaries stared at me. I couldn’t quite read their expressions. Suspicion? Wariness? Hope? Jealousy?

But it didn’t matter. I could guide their emotions slowly.

I pulled out a handgun and spoke lightly.

“You’re all here dreaming of a better future. I’ll keep it simple. Loot will be divided fairly. If you survive, you won’t have to worry about food.”

“Fairly?”

A mercenary questioned with a voice full of distrust. I nodded.

“Soldier equipment, food, whatever. If you can’t even get loot, why bother being a mercenary?”

The mercenaries’ eyes sparkled. Like hungry beasts. Some still looked skeptical, doubting I’d keep my word.

That could be proven with actions over time.

I then pointed toward Jeondohyeong.

“And here are the weapons. The Alliance isn’t providing any, so I bought these separately. Take one each.”

Electric spears bought from the Electric Nomad and slingshots from the Hope Community.

The mood soured instantly. Mercenaries began to complain.

“How are we supposed to fight soldiers with this?”

“A spear? We’ll be swiss cheese before we even stab anyone.”

Not quite. The Alliance intended to use mercenaries as trap setters, not direct combatants. They probably thought arming mercenaries to loot soldier equipment would make them a threat later. Honestly, mercenaries diligently setting traps around the city would be enough.

But that wasn’t my goal. I planned to gradually turn these mercenaries into pillagers.

“For now, you’ll just set traps. No direct combat. Oh, right.”

I pulled out a suspicious uncle’s notebook from my pocket and flipped through it, then rolled my eyes and pointed at a random mercenary.

“Come here.”

The mercenary hesitantly approached.

“Why me?”

“Nothing serious.”

I put the notebook back, aimed my handgun at the mercenary’s head, and pulled the trigger.

Bang. The gunshot echoed, and the mercenary fell back with a hole in his forehead. I calmly waved the gun.

“Weeded out a spy. The Alliance informed me he was a military plant.”

That was a lie. The Alliance had only warned us to be cautious, with no specific intel.

This was just to instill fear. Since I couldn’t win them over with words alone, I’d crush them with fear and slowly persuade them with actions.

The mercenaries fell silent, staring at the corpse. They swallowed their complaints and began picking up the weapons I’d provided.

Then, the police-provided radio crackled.

“Dain. Dain.”

The voice, distorted by static, sounded like “Dain.” It delivered news.

The military was on the move.

***

The military began pillaging from the outskirts of the city. Without a clear route or destination, they killed any survivors they found and looted everything.

This was a stark contrast to their previous image. They used to approach peacefully, negotiate, and offer markets. Now, they were full-blown pillagers.

Our mercenaries moved quickly, carrying explosives on their backs.

“Is this thing gonna blow?”

My companions had decided to join as mercenaries for now. Sajihyeok glanced at the bag on his back and muttered. I shook my head.

“It only explodes if you set it up.”

Like setting an alarm on an electronic watch to turn it into a time bomb, or opening a lid, or pulling a wire. I’d learned it all in a day. Surprisingly, the setup wasn’t that hard.

“But how do we set this up? We need to place it where the military might touch it, right?”

“That’s up to us to figure out.”

How to camouflage it, set the timer—it was all up to me.

On the bright side, it was freedom. On the other hand, it was responsibility. If I wasted bombs without killing soldiers, it’d be on me.

I focused on the freedom.

‘I need to kill soldiers somehow. Get firearms to arm the mercenaries.’

Somehow, kill soldiers and secure firearms. Only then would the mercenaries become a force to be reckoned with.

Jeondohyeong, holding a radio and map, tilted his head. After the typhoon, communication and internet were down. The police radios were the only means of communication.

“We can’t predict the military’s path. They seem to just go wherever they see people.”

“There must be places they avoid.”

“They seem to avoid areas with lots of zombies.”

I snatched the map and looked. Jeondohyeong had marked the military’s path with a pencil—a jagged, irregular route based on radio intel.

One squad was actively moving and pillaging, while a machine gun-armed platoon guarded their retreat route and base. Several squads were busy transporting resources.

I stared at the pillaging squad’s path. Being a pillager myself, their intentions were clear.

‘They avoid zombies because there’s nothing to gain. They hunt people for resources, so they head where people are.’

The pillaging squad’s path became more predictable as it went on. Apartment complexes and residential areas were prioritized.

Areas crowded with zombies, like commercial districts or large buildings, were avoided.

‘Then eventually…’

I pointed at a spot on the map. A particularly expensive apartment complex in the city. Large and tall. Just looting the kimchi refrigerators there would yield a massive haul.

“Let’s head here.”

The military would eventually go there. We’d get there first and set up. And while we’re at it, loot nearby survivors.

The mercenaries sighed at the location.

“That’s too far. It’ll take forever to get there.”

The distance was significant. It was already hot in the summer, and carrying heavy loads made it even harder.

But there was no choice. This was a war over the city. Marching was inevitable.

 

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