Free Web NovelI think back to the opening line of the novel Snow Country.
If I remember correctly, it described a snow-covered land as the train emerged from the tunnel.
A similar landscape spread out before me, but the emotional impression was completely distorted.
The pure white had been replaced with ashen gray, and the season had shifted from deep winter to late spring, right before summer.
But more than anything, the biggest dissonance was how the anticipation of a journey had been replaced by the uncertainty of looming death.
In a bleak world where it felt like everything had come to a halt, the only thing in motion was the surreal, towering wind turbine on top of a shriveled, gray mountain, its blades slowly spinning.
We had entered a complete erosion zone.
The Awakened were issued NP equipment, and closed-circuit surveillance was intensified throughout the entire train.
“This is where the main dish begins.”
I had a meal with Pyo Won-sang.
We invited Woo Min-hee as well, but she declined, so it was just the two of us seated at a surprisingly lavish table.
“As you know, the goal of this journey is to secure as many Awakened as possible.”
We made small talk as we ate.
It wasn’t hard to tell that his mind was elsewhere.
“What if,” he said.
It was probably when he suddenly used the subjunctive that I first caught on.
I kept my expression blank and listened carefully.
“If New Seoul collapses and even its surrounding regions are eroded... What do you plan to do then, Captain? Do you have a plan?”
“Well.”
My lukewarm answer was simple.
I don’t know what lies ahead for me either.
For now, my eyes are still fixed on Kang Han-min—but who knows?
I can feel my trust in him curdling into doubt the more time passes.
It’s like grain that’s soaked in water and about to ferment, but I’m keeping it forcibly chilled in the refrigerator labeled ‘faith,’ trying to stop the process.
Honestly, having come this far, I might as well see it through to the end.
And this train feels like the perfect front-row seat to witness that end.
If I do abandon Kang Han-min, I’ll revert to Plan A.
The simple yet romantic plan of becoming humanity’s final survivor in my own private bunker.
But it seemed Pyo Won-sang had his own brand of romanticism.
“What do you think of Shangri-La?”
Shangri-La.
A green hell left behind in a gray world.
If someone told me to live there... I don’t know.
In that brutal competition for survival, can a lone survivor like me really hold out?
Just think about Dies Irae and his crew—that’s all the answer you need.
Sure, I could kill Dies Irae as an individual, but against a group, I’d be hunted down with ease.
I could try forming a group myself, but I’ve learned the hard way that maintaining one is far harder than creating it.
“I’m not so sure.”
So I said.
“It doesn’t seem like a good option to me.”
Pyo Won-sang chuckled lightly.
The meal was nearing its end.
The attendants began clearing the dishes and brought out coffee.
In this age, being able to smell the rich aroma of fresh coffee beans was a luxury reserved for very few.
As we quietly sipped our coffee, Pyo Won-sang spoke first.
“What if,” he said again.
His second use of the subjunctive.
I had a feeling his real intentions would follow next, so I savored the coffee.
It tasted like tobacco.
That bitter flavor lingered on my tongue as his voice echoed through the empty dining car.
“What if we were the ones to create Shangri-La?”
For a moment, I had a thought.
Maybe this sly Jeju committee fox’s real goal was exactly that.
Of course, “creating Shangri-La” didn’t mean founding some sacred paradise—it meant taking one from someone else.
The truth? Who knows.
In the end, he’s wearing a mask, same as me.
It could even be a sophisticated fishing attempt to gauge my intentions.
And just like that, with the right amount of banter and vague jokes, the conversation ended without any dramatic twist.
That afternoon, the speakers throughout the train suddenly blared with an announcement.
“This train is now entering the territory of a warlord-class faction. All passengers, maintain combat readiness and prepare for contingencies.”
That was when the gray world that had seemed eternal suddenly peeled away like a lie.
Just beyond a short tunnel, an almost fairytale-like view unfurled: vibrant green fields and a sparkling river winding through them.
Shangri-La.
I was briefly spellbound by the beautiful scenery.
Bang! Tatatatata!
Bang!
The gunfire ringing in the distance calmly revealed what kind of place Shangri-La really was.
But those gunshots...
Something was clearly off.
*
One K-WalkieTalkie was enough to get a read on the local situation.
Chzzk—
“We’re under attack! The swarm is on us! We’re holding for now, but our supplies are running dry!”
Panic was unfolding.
The enemy wasn’t human—it was monsters.
Still, they were several tiers below the massive hordes we’d faced before.
This “swarm” wasn’t even a standard monster horde; it was what they called an extinction-type swarm.
It wasn’t a term we’d used back in our day.
Ha Tae-hoon and the onboard hunter team boarded the armored vehicle.
As I watched in silence, I approached Ha Tae-hoon.
“Ha sunbae.”
I know.
There’s no going back to how things used to be between us.
He and I have already boarded different trains.
Still, I don’t intend to deny the time we once shared.
“Think we can join in?”
I decided to observe the operation with Cheon Young-jae.
It was my call.
I wanted to see for myself what this so-called Shangri-La truly was.
Ha Tae-hoon hesitated for a moment, then made a quick decision.
“Sure. If Professor’s helping us, it’s like having a thousand reinforcements.”
We boarded the armored vehicle.
Inside were unfamiliar hunters I recognized by face but had never spoken to.
Since Ha Tae-hoon was in a different vehicle, the mood in ours remained heavy and silent.
Things finally lightened when the wheels came to a stop.
Tatatata!
The sound of rapid gunfire echoed close by.
But even back on the train, I’d already sensed something was off about it.
And the truth was even more absurd than expected.
“...What the hell?”
Cheon Young-jae tilted his head.
There was nothing there.
To be specific, there were just a few people standing on top of a concrete structure.
Not a single rat, let alone a monster, was in their line of fire.
And yet, the gunfire continued.
Tatatata! Bang! Bang!
The source of the unease became clear—it wasn’t coming from real weapons.
It was a massive speaker system rigged with an amp, periodically blasting pre-recorded gunshots that grated the eardrums.
“...Who the hell are you people?”
Only then did the people on the roof realize we weren’t part of their faction and scrambled to grab their guns.
But it wouldn’t take much for even those rough-looking men to realize there wasn’t going to be a real fight.
Soon after, negotiations began.
Ha Tae-hoon offered me a seat at the table—his way of showing a bit of respect, I suppose.
Still, he was the one doing the talking.
He might’ve always seemed unsure and awkward around us, but everyone knew he came from a well-bred background and had been highly educated.
Speaking with a calm, refined Seoul accent, he politely explained our affiliation, objectives, and intentions, and gently inquired about theirs and the current situation.
His crisp combat uniform and spotless firearm—unlike the baggy clothes of the past—also helped intimidate them.
One of the men who had been blasting the fake gunfire let out a sigh and said:
“We’re under Mayor Tak Min-su.”
A name I’d heard briefly in the pre-boarding briefing.
According to that briefing, this Tak Min-su was the ruler of Shangri-La—Sector A3.
The title of ‘mayor’ implied he’d once held elected office.
That’s all the briefing covered, but from the fact that Tak Min-su was one of three major powers vying for control of the Gyeongbuk–Gyeongnam mountain regions, it was clear his faction wasn’t one to be taken lightly.
In fact, as we entered Shangri-La, the train slowed to a crawl, and all personnel were ordered into combat readiness.
Even Pyo Won-sang had looked visibly tense.
And understandably so.
According to Byun Han-soo’s intel, Tak Min-su commanded a significant number of Awakened.
But what we saw of Shangri-La on arrival felt... warped, like the ashen world we’d passed through earlier.
“Oh, that sound? That’s just ‘woot-bang.’ (Command Shelter).”
A man whose accent blended Gyeongsang with a hint of Seoul spoke in a loud, rough voice, as if flaunting his recovery from the shock.
“What’s ‘woot-bang’?”
Ha Tae-hoon asked, and the man burst into laughter before replying.
“It means pretending something’s there when there’s not. It’s for those whiners holed up in the tunnel and village—keeps ’em scared. Always whining, refusing to leave or help, just bitching all the time. What else are we supposed to do?”
In short, the gunshots we’d heard were nothing but a performance for internal control.
At first, I wondered why they’d go that far—but once I heard how many people were scattered through the tunnels, my thoughts changed.
Tak Min-su, the so-called mayor, commanded close to 30,000 people.
The largest survivor group in the southern region.
Bang! Tatatatata!
The loud gunfire kept echoing through the speakers.
Ha Tae-hoon winced, plugging his ears, and said to me:
“If nothing else, we can say this guy knows how to scheme.”
Ironically, the obnoxious gunfire told us one thing: Tak Min-su didn’t want—or wasn’t able—to fight us.
He even responded to our communication.
For some reason, Pyo Won-sang turned to me and asked if I’d like to attend the meeting.
Maybe he had his reasons, but you can’t live off clean water alone.
And I was admittedly curious.
So I agreed to meet Tak Min-su with Pyo Won-sang.
Tak Min-su’s city was composed of three tunnels and a settlement built around the central river flowing between them.
Compared to Byun Han-soo’s camp, this was a completely different league.
The number of people walking around, the state of the armed guards, the deployment of heavy equipment across the area—it was easily beyond your average warlord-class faction.
But the economic and nutritional condition of the civilians, aside from the combat personnel, was noticeably poor.
They had carved terraced rice paddies into the mountainsides and set up plastic greenhouses for farming here and there, but even so, it looked far too small to feed the mouths of 30,000 people.
“Ah, welcome! Welcome indeed! For such distinguished guests from Seoul to visit our humble little place!”
Tak Min-su’s first impression could be summed up in a single word:
Old.
At least late sixties.
Maybe even seventy.
An old man.
Physically, he was still strong.
Thin and bony, yes, but tall and straight-backed. The rather fine suit he wore lent him a touch of dignity, and his gaze was sharp, his voice thunderous enough to rattle the room.
There was certainly a sense of aged vitality about him.
But the fact that his aides sitting with him were only slightly younger or about the same age felt oddly unfamiliar to me—someone who had grown used to being around younger people.
The more I watched Pyo Won-sang, the more convinced I became: he’s not someone to underestimate.
Even though I’m sure he looks down on this man as insignificant inside, he skillfully played the part of the courteous guest, flattering and steering the conversation with ease.
“Ah, I see. No need to worry about us, Mr. Mayor. Our destination is Gyeongju, actually. Yes—rumor has it Kang Han-min, the Savior-class Awakened, is stationed there. We’re heading there to meet him. Why? Ah, well, that’s classified. But let’s just say... it’s about repeating what we did in Jeju? Haha. I’ll leave it at that.”
The meeting wrapped up quickly.
In exchange for a small passage toll from our side, they guaranteed us safe passage through.
But ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) it wasn’t hard to tell that Pyo Won-sang had another motive altogether.
He dispatched a reconnaissance team led by Ha Tae-hoon.
Their goal wasn’t to survey the city itself, or the people, or its defenses.
It was the outskirts of Shangri-La.
“Let’s place it here. Even if it spreads slowly, erosion can sometimes jump more than ten kilometers in a day.”
Pyo Won-sang had already begun measuring and surveying Shangri-La Sector A3—Tak Min-su’s domain.
If this place turned out to be a viable future survival zone, he’d eventually drive out all the small-time regional competitors and claim this land of milk and honey with bloodied hands.
“...”
It’s not really something I care about.
This isn’t my territory, and these aren’t my people. freewēbnoveℓ.com
With that in mind, I strolled around the city with Cheon Young-jae.
Compared to King’s city, this place was lacking in every way.
The streets were swarming with people like bees in a hive, but there wasn’t a trace of energy or hope in their faces.
Chronic malnutrition and the resulting lethargy, deep-rooted resignation—it all stained their dirty faces like soot.
They were clearly afraid of us, these people with guns. They didn’t speak to us, didn’t approach, and so there was no real danger or annoyance.
But then, something happened that we couldn’t ignore.
It must’ve been in front of a military barracks-like building.
From a distance, I could hear a chilling crack, the sound of air splitting violently.
Someone was beating someone else with a club.
“You little shits. You botched it again, huh? Couldn’t even catch that? You half-monster bastards...”
Men in military uniforms were using intimidation on a group of teenage boys and girls. Some were already on the ground being punished.
Thwack!
A man in a skeletal helmet swung a wooden club mercilessly into a girl’s thigh as she lay on the ground.
“AAAGH!”
The girl collapsed, unable to endure the pain any longer.
“Lost your fire, huh? You half-monster fucks. Lost it, didn’t you?!”
The man’s voice grew more savage, and a grim atmosphere spread over the small drill yard.
We walked away.
Just another common case of abuse.
If it served their goals, I had no intention of interfering.
I’m no crusader of justice, and I sure as hell ain’t humanity’s savior.
But then—
“Hey. Park sunbae. Did you see that?”
“See what?”
“Their eyes. Those kids.”
“Their eyes?”
“Look again. Aren’t they Awakened?”
If it served our interests, we had no choice but to step in.
Maybe it was divine timing.
Or maybe that boy had seen us and instinctively reached for the hope in strangers.
But now we had a justification.
BOOM!
A shockwave exploded violently across the narrow drill yard.
As if it meant to shatter that cramped, miserable cage to pieces.
