Destruction — Chapter 32

7. Survival Training

How many hours had passed since he fell asleep as if fainting? Unaware of the two men’s exhaustion, the sun rose and cast its stinging light across the bed. The constant, small movements beside him and the brightened room slowly pulled Woobeom’s mind back to consciousness. His heavy, sluggish body seemed to have recovered overnight, making movement easier. Still, he couldn’t put strength into his arm yet, so he carefully tried to lift his upper body, only for something soft to block him. Looking down, he saw a pale arm wrapped around his waist.

Following the arm with a frown, he found Saejin lying there naked. More precisely, Yoon Saejin with his upper body completely bare. Startled, Woobeom flipped the blanket and saw Saejin’s elastic-band pants. Wondering why things were like this, he glanced around and spotted the thermometer placed by the bed. The digital display showed 34 degrees.

It seemed Saejin had fallen asleep while holding him to keep his temperature up. He must have stayed awake caring for him for a long time before finally dozing off, because he didn’t stir even as Woobeom sat up. Saejin wriggled a few times, searching for the displaced blanket, then gave up and clung to Woobeom again.

Those soft, delicate arms clung stubbornly. The way he kept shifting around, trying to find a warm spot, made him look unbearably innocent. When Woobeom gently tried to pry the arm away, Saejin’s brows knitted. He even let out a whining sleep-mumble, as if telling him not to touch. It was absurd enough to be funny.

“You’re such a ridiculous kid.”

His lips had curled up in disbelief, and they didn’t come back down. After fumbling at his mouth for a moment, Woobeom exhaled and lay back down. It was surprising how good the lazy morning light felt. He usually preferred sleeping alone, but for today, the body warmth beside him felt strangely welcome.

Since things were already like this, staying in bed until Saejin woke up didn’t seem like a bad idea. When Woobeom turned to face him, Saejin seemed to sense how much easier it was to hold him like this; the tight crease between his brows gradually loosened. His relaxed expression settled again, and he started sleep-talking. Saying he smelled nice, Saejin rubbed his nose against Woobeom’s chest, enough to make Woobeom doubt if he was really asleep. Knowing Saejin’s cheeky streak, the suspicion wasn’t unreasonable.

“Saejin.”

He called his name, but no answer came back. He seemed to be having a pleasant dream. Seeing the washcloth, basin, and emergency medicine behind Saejin’s back stirred mixed emotions. Woobeom had already sensed that Saejin liked him. He wasn’t so dense that he’d miss something that obvious.

It has to be a misunderstanding.

He should help Saejin realize what that feeling really was, help him draw the right line, but instead, other thoughts kept rising. The greedy thought that he wanted Saejin to lean on him more, to want him more. He knew he shouldn’t let himself be like this, but people’s hearts never moved the way they were told to.

Yoon Saejin had some strange power that threw him off balance. But all of that needed to remain a misunderstanding. He couldn’t lose his stance and get swept up in it too.

“Mm… hyung? Are you okay now?”

Saejin mumbled against Woobeom’s chest, unable to open his eyes properly from the blinding sunlight. He didn’t seem aware he was still hugging Woobeom. Squirm, squirm. He kept wiggling in Woobeom’s arms, which tickled more than expected. When Woobeom tapped his forehead lightly, telling him to cut it out, Saejin grumbled.

“Guess you’re better now… good.”

It was a bright smile, at least, that’s how it looked to Woobeom. Saejin slipped his hand under Woobeom’s shirt and, for quite a while, felt along his bare skin. Woobeom recognized it as an unconscious attempt to check his temperature again. After that, Saejin drifted right back to sleep. Where did this boldness even come from? When they first met, he had at least tried to read the mood, but now that he was comfortable around Woobeom, he acted however he wanted.

Finding that kind of boldness endearing would mean he was out of his mind. If Saejin was misunderstanding his own feelings, Woobeom should be the one to correct him, but he was a delinquent at the core, so it wasn’t easy.

The instinct to protect Saejin, who had walked into his territory, kept feeding his greed. From the moment he brought the barely acquainted Saejin to the villa, he had tried to protect him as much as he could, so the feeling wasn’t new. But now, he wanted to protect him in a way that would keep Saejin’s heart from getting hurt too.

He really is a crybaby.

Woobeom tapped the bridge of Saejin’s sleeping nose for no real reason. Whenever Saejin cried, both his eyes and the tip of his nose flushed red. Every time Saejin worried about him and cried, a strange sensation rose in Woobeom’s chest, filling him up. What could he even call that emotion? Unfamiliar and uncomfortable, yet not unpleasant, it confused him just as much. In the end, it made him think he shouldn’t let Yoon Saejin cry in front of him anymore.

“Yoon Saejin, what time did you even go to sleep?”

Woobeom gently brushed Saejin’s head, still wandering aimlessly in dreamland. It seemed likely he wouldn’t be getting out of bed until Saejin woke up today.

* * *

Even though it was already daytime, Saejin showed no intention of getting up. At first Woobeom assumed he was simply tired and left the bed ahead of him, but even after disinfecting his wound, Saejin still didn’t move. That finally made him try waking him.

“Yoon Saejin.”

No matter how late he had fallen asleep at dawn, lunchtime had long passed, so he must have slept at least six hours. Saejin struggled to lift his eyelids at Woobeom’s call, then burrowed deeper into the blankets, whining as if telling him not to wake him. Woobeom hesitated for a moment, but remembering how much Saejin had overexerted himself the previous day, he shook his shoulder again. If something hurt, it was better to know than to let him sleep blindly.

“Look at me.”

Saejin stuck his lower lip out, annoyed that he hadn’t been left to sleep, then blinked up at him. When he forced his eyelids open, his gaze met Woobeom’s worried eyes looking down at him. His whole body ached, but nothing was seriously wrong. It was just a bad case of muscle pain, and he simply wanted to rest more.

“I don’t have a fever.”

Speaking with a husky morning voice, Saejin told Woobeom exactly what he needed to hear as the man reached to check his forehead. Even after hearing that, Woobeom still checked his temperature and nodded silently.

“Then why can’t you get up.”

“Muscle pain…”

Muscle pain wasn’t something solved by lying down. In fact, moving helped loosen stiff muscles and eased the pain. That’s why Woobeom had no intention of letting him roll around in bed any longer. He spoke quietly, saying he would make lunch, so Saejin should pull himself together before then.

After stepping into the living room, Woobeom opened the windows for ventilation. It must have snowed overnight, because the yard had turned white. Judging by sight, the snow looked deep enough to reach the ankles.

Thinking he’d have to shovel after eating, the first thing Woobeom did was hide one of the shovels. It was true his injured hand couldn’t be used properly, but clearing snow was something he could easily manage with just one hand. And honestly, he’d rather do it alone than deal with Saejin grabbing the spare shovel and insisting on helping.

Once the shovel was hidden, he took out a bag of calcium chloride and set it outside. Saejin was sure to try carrying it himself, so preparing it beforehand was the best option. After closing the window, he headed into the kitchen. Woobeom wasn’t the sort to have much appetite or regularly eat three meals a day, but ever since coming to the villa, he had been eating steadily. He kept thinking that Saejin, still in his early twenties, was probably in the middle of his growth period.

Woobeom himself had kept growing until his mid-twenties. Saejin looked about 175 cm now and still had room to grow. They didn’t have vegetables, so their diet wasn’t exactly balanced, but kids that age grew well no matter what they ate.

Hyung, should we add this to the ramen tomorrow?

While rolling up his sleeves to avoid splashing water, Woobeom noticed the freshwater fish sitting beside the sink. It reminded him of something Saejin had said earlier. Judging from the ramen packets already set aside on the shelf, he had been looking forward to it. Deciding to postpone the original curry menu, Woobeom reached for the plastic container. The fish were so small that he didn’t need to scale or gut them, but he cleaned them thoroughly anyway to avoid food poisoning.

When he added the ramen and prepped fish to the boiling pot, a spicy aroma filled the living room. Drawn by the smell, Saejin woke up, sniffed the air blindly, and his eyes sparkled.

When he added the ramen and prepped fish to the boiling pot, a spicy aroma filled the living room. Drawn by the smell, Saejin woke up, sniffed the air blindly, and his eyes sparkled.

“Did you make spicy fish stew?”

Calling it fish stew was generous considering the only ingredients were ramen and freshwater fish, but Saejin didn’t care. Looking excited, he hurried over, only to let out a sharp yelp the next second. He seemed to have forgotten that he’d slept so much because his whole body ached, from the flu to the muscle pain stacked on top of it. He stumbled into a chair at the table, but once those inflamed muscles flared up, it must have felt like torture.

“I really must be in terrible shape.”

“You can build stamina slowly.”

Placing the pot in the center of the table, Woobeom set a small dish in front of him before sitting down himself. Steam rose from the boiling pot, making his appetite grow. Saejin scooped half a ladle of broth and a large clump of noodles, blew on them quickly, then shoved them into his mouth. The hot, spicy broth beat any medicine. The formerly lifeless Saejin perked up like nothing had ever been wrong.

“It’s lucky the stream is here. We can catch things like this once in a while.”

Saying something silly about how at least they wouldn’t suffer from nutrient deficiency, Saejin cooled his mouth with a sip of cold water.

“Yeah, eat plenty.”

“Can you show me where the stream is today? Ah, but the stream is outside the fence, right? Then never mind… There must be monsters out there.”

“Monsters can be avoided, so that doesn’t matter. But today’s not a good day for another reason.”

Woobeom pointed his chopsticks toward the small window. Beyond it, the outside scenery was completely white. The untouched ground looked soft, and the snow piled on tree branches shimmered like ornaments on a Christmas tree. A simple tree without lights or decorations. But the scenery was only pleasant for a moment. The thought of the soil freezing solid under the snow brought him back to reality.

“It’s pretty, but… clearing snow is going to take a while.”

In case Saejin insisted on helping, Woobeom didn’t respond and instead drank his water while avoiding his gaze.

“I hope the monsters freeze while we’re at it.”

“The ones in bad condition might be fully dead by now.”

Responding to Saejin’s muttered wish, Woobeom recalled the monster he had seen in the mountain the previous day. Calling it “dead” felt strange when its brain had already melted, but no better word came to mind. A monster with exposed bones staggering around. It might have gotten buried in snow, slipped on a slope and torn its limbs, or maybe simply reached the end of its lifespan.

Even if their numbers increased endlessly, their decaying bodies would eventually become bare skeletons. Winter only prolonged their preservation, but once the weather warmed up, decomposition would speed up dramatically. Especially given their high fever, rotting would separate bone from flesh quickly once it began.

For every monster born, another would eventually die. So the world wouldn’t literally be overrun.

The scientifically impossible infection rate and lethality had caused the outbreak to spread like wildfire, but once a virus ran out of hosts, it would die with them. If humanity created a plan to survive the outbreak and overcame the disaster of contagion, the virus’s natural disappearance was at least theoretically possible. Whatever happened, at the end of every monster was eventual decay and disappearance.

If that were possible, it wouldn’t have gotten this bad in the first place.

But saying things was easier than doing them. Even if the government claimed it would hold out until natural viral extinction, no one could guarantee such a plan would succeed.

Thinking about corpses made even his nonexistent appetite fade. Setting his chopsticks down, Woobeom glanced at Saejin, who was eating heartily. Even with his mouth full, Saejin was fidgeting eagerly, ready to start chattering away.

“Then should we skip prepping for monsters coming into the mountain?”

“We have to see how things go. If it looks dangerous, we’ll need to reinforce the fence so they can’t climb it.”

The mountain was large enough that a few hundred monsters weren’t a threat. Except for when they screamed to gather others, they didn’t seem to act in packs, so by now they had likely dispersed. And they didn’t have the strength or intelligence to figure out how to climb the fence. Even if a few managed it someday, taking care of that small group wouldn’t be too late.

The chances of them climbing over were extremely low.

The fence didn’t have any sharp structures, but it was tall and offered no footholds in the middle. To climb it, a body would have to wedge its fingers into the wire mesh and pull itself up by strength alone. For corpses whose flesh and muscle were rotting away, attempting that was nearly impossible. Woobeom firmly told the anxious Saejin that there was nothing to worry about.

“You’re going to burst.”

Listening to Woobeom’s explanation, Saejin scraped up the remaining noodles and broth, then rubbed his now-round stomach. Since he had eaten even the portion Woobeom set his chopsticks down from, he must have eaten at least one and a half servings. He knew overeating was never good, but he had momentarily lost control in the face of such a rare treat.