[Replying to @f__kBigf__kin, @dew | Humanity = gone. If this is real, y’all seriously deserve to be punished.]

┗ <@dew>
[Replying to @candy_luv | Punished? Who cares, we’re all dying anyway lol.]

┗ <@dew>
[Replying to @candy_luv | If you’ve got a problem, come to Seondae Station. I’ll make you just like me. Let’s see if you can still talk then.]

┗ <@dew>
[Replying to @candy_luv | Why so quiet now, you dumb bitch?]

┗ <@Kitty (pingku jelly)>
[Replying to @f__kBigf__kin | This country really is screwed, huh. Couldn’t even contain the outbreak early on. Now the shut-ins are out here spreading it on purpose. “I’m not dying alone~” Yeah right. Watch out, someone’s gonna stab you.]

<@0you (disaster_info_share)>
[Virus: (looking at a monster) “My kid doesn’t bite ^^”
Virus: (looking at an infected) “But this one does… lol”
Yup. Zombies aren’t even aggressive—it’s the humans that are vicious.
We can avoid dumb monsters. What’s dangerous are the infected who aren’t dead yet. They’re like fucking clingy ghosts.

HangukUniversity #NewVirus #Zombies #Monsters #It’sNotTheMonstersWeNeedToKillIt’sTheInfected]

[12.9K comments · 98.5K shares · 79K likes]

┗ <@ppep (passing stranger)>
[Replying to @0you | Not wrong, but that last tag gave me chills… “Kill the infected”? There are tons of people who got infected unfairly.]

┗ <@rjqnrahr_123 (turtle neck treatment)>
[Replying to @0you | I agree lol. That’s why you shouldn’t be wandering outside. You got infected because you were dumb, lmao.]

According to the information posted on social media, not just the shelter at Hanguk University, but shelters in other areas as well were heading straight for disaster.

News that shelters were turning into chaos, and that infected people were desperately trying to spread the virus to survivors—both were equally horrifying. The logic of “I got infected unfairly, so others should too” was not something Saejin ever wanted to engage with. What was even scarier was that these kinds of posts weren’t rare—they were increasing by the minute.

It seemed like a surprisingly large number of people were beginning to sympathize with this kind of mindset, and some infected individuals had already begun moving in groups. One person even posted a video where they used their status as an incubation-stage infected to threaten and mock the uninfected.

This had all happened within just six hours of the virus becoming public knowledge. In a lawless world where public safety had collapsed, survival meant taking action yourself—not relying on anyone else. No one could be trusted.

What now? The apartment, which had been a safe place to rest and recover, had been burned down by the man next door. That meant going to an official shelter was out of the question. The anxiety crept in: what if they ended up wandering with nowhere to go, only to eventually get infected too?

Unless the government stepped in with some emergency policy to let survivors stay in hotels or motels, there was no hope. But that felt unlikely—he’d already seen news reports about members of the National Assembly trying to flee the country. Holding his throbbing forehead in his hands, Saejin let out a sigh. Then, Woobeom, who had been silent the entire time, suddenly spoke.

“What are you good at?”

“…What?”

Saejin blinked wide like a startled rabbit at the abrupt question, then quickly fell into deep thought. Right, what was he good at?

He had a vague idea of why Woobeom was asking. They’d probably be moving together for a while until they found somewhere safe, and Woobeom must be worried that Saejin would become a burden. Like he was in a job interview, Saejin straightened his face and declared confidently:

“Nothing!”

“……”

“I haven’t exercised in forever, so I’ve got terrible stamina. And I’m majoring in computer science, so… yeah, I’m not exactly the kind of person who’d be helpful during a monster apocalypse. If I’d known this would happen, I should’ve applied to med school or nursing instead.”

He envied students with medical knowledge—at least they could assess and treat injuries on their own.

“Great. What a brag.”

“Yes.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do with some useless brat like you?”

“…Wait, what? Take me? You’re taking me?”

Where? Saejin tilted his head at every word, then came up with a likely guess.

“Wait… are you talking about your place?”

Come to think of it, unlike his own apartment, which had burned down, Woobeom’s place should still be intact.

“No, not there. There’s nothing useful at home.”

“Hmm…?”

Then where? It felt like trying to solve a riddle. Saejin pressed his temples with his fingers, but he knew he couldn’t afford to miss this opportunity. Determined to correct his earlier statement, he waved his hands.

“I’m not good at anything, but that doesn’t mean I’m bad at everything either! I may not be as strong as you, since I’m not a gangster, but I’ve got a good personality, I’m quick to pick up on things, and I’m not stubborn for no reason!”

“Are you trying to mock me?”

“…No?”

“Fine, then.”

Yoon Saejin had described himself as quick-witted, but he was clearly lacking in that department. Woobeom felt oddly annoyed, like he’d just been slapped with a backhanded compliment. Clicking his tongue, he muttered that he’d think about it. The place Woobeom had in mind was far from Gangnam—out in Suwon. He was still calculating whether it was right to take someone like Yoon Saejin on such a long and dangerous journey.

‘Still… maybe I should give him the choice.’

When it came to a decision like “yes or no,” it was best to let the person decide for themselves. As Saejin gazed up at him with bright, eager eyes, asking where they were going, Woobeom finally gave an answer.

“There’s a villa in Suwon. It’s stocked with supplies, has a generator, so we’d have electricity for at least a few months even if power cuts out. If we ration the food, it could last over a year.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?”

“You’ve got nowhere else to go. If I just dumped you on the road and you died, I’d feel shitty about it.”

“Hyuuung…!”

Choked with emotion, Saejin looked like he was about to cry again, but Woobeom raised a hand to signal he wasn’t done yet.

“The problem is, we’d have to drive to Suwon. That takes at least an hour, minimum.”

Considering how traffic had collapsed, it was doubtful the highway would be clear. Some people might have abandoned their cars while fleeing from monsters, or turned into monsters themselves inside their vehicles after running a fever. If the road was completely jammed, they’d have to go on foot—and that could mean sleeping out in the open somewhere in the middle of a highway. It would be a dangerous trip, and Woobeom wasn’t sure Saejin could handle it.

— You can think of me as your real little brother.

That teary, snot-filled declaration kept echoing in his ears. It should’ve been easy to shrug off, but when he remembered Saejin’s goofy, smiling face, it was hard to stay cold and detached. Letting out a sigh heavy as a lament, he heard the sound of a dry swallow. Saejin was nervously mouthing at his chapped lips, stealing glances at him.

‘Well… it’s not like I can ditch him now.’

At the very least, the trip wouldn’t be boring.

“It might take us half a day to get to Suwon. Maybe longer.”

“Yeah… I figured as much.”

“We also need to find a car that actually starts.”

“…Wait, you don’t have a car?”

So they had to find a working car. That meant their departure would inevitably be delayed.

“A damn monster kept blocking the road, so I rammed it. That broke the car.”

“You actually rammed it… of course you did.”

The sedan had become completely useless once the engine died, so he’d already abandoned it.

‘That’s when I ran into Yoon Saejin.’

It was strange, how coincidences worked. While searching for a car that would start, Woobeom had wandered into a residential neighborhood—and that’s where he met Saejin. A clearly timid college student had taken him into his home, and now here they were, preparing to survive together.

A laugh nearly escaped him. Woobeom pressed his lips to the palm he was resting his chin on and let a small smile flicker across his face where Saejin couldn’t see it.

“There should be a lot of abandoned cars downtown, right?”

“Most likely.”

“Then we’ll look for one there.”

As the conversation wound down, Saejin leaned in and whispered with an oddly serious tone.

“You agreed to take me with you. Just don’t ditch me, okay?”

If he’d intended to abandon him, he would’ve done it before revealing this much of the plan. Woobeom nodded, indulging the unnecessary comment and reassuring him.

“The roads are dark right now, so it’d be best to move after sunrise.”

Saejin checked the time. Four in the morning. Since it was winter, the sun wouldn’t rise for a while. This was a good chance to catch up on sleep and eat a solid breakfast before they headed out. He agreed with Woobeom’s suggestion and stood up.

“Then I’ll go turn on the heater.”

He remembered seeing one near the ramen section. As Saejin went off to adjust the temperature, Woobeom cleared a spot by pushing aside the trash on the dirty floor, preparing a place to rest. Saejin pressed the power button on the heater but tilted his head when nothing happened. He tried pressing it again.

‘Is the plug disconnected?’

Sniffling, Saejin pulled the large heater forward to check the cord. It was dusty, but nothing seemed obviously wrong.

‘…Looks like it’s broken.’

Even though they’d lowered the shutter, the entrance wasn’t sealed, and cold air was drifting in. On top of that, the tiled floor was freezing. Just sitting on the bare ground made his butt numb—trying to sleep like that would probably leave his face paralyzed by morning.

“Hyung, I think it’s broken. What do we do?”

Looking downcast, Saejin returned to where Woobeom was laying down boxes on the floor. Apparently, this turn of events hadn’t been expected, because Woobeom clicked his tongue in frustration. He grabbed a few hot packs from a nearby shelf, but there weren’t nearly enough. Four wouldn’t be enough to keep two adult men warm.

Still, Saejin opened them all and shook them vigorously. Once he felt a bit of warmth, he slipped two into Woobeom’s chest.

“It’s still cold even with these.”

Even holding one in his hand and keeping another on his chest, the parts not in contact with a hot pack stayed chilly. The cold, which hadn’t registered during the adrenaline rush of running from monsters, now hit him in full force. Saejin curled in on himself, shivering.

Woobeom sat motionless with his eyes closed, as if the cold didn’t affect him. But he was human too—his fingertips were turning red.

‘…Isn’t that uncomfortable?’

The box they were using as a mat was long enough, yet Woobeom hadn’t laid down. He was trying to sleep while leaning his upper body against the wall. That couldn’t be restful. Saejin worried while sneaking glances at him, but quickly looked away. He figured maybe Woobeom was keeping himself in light sleep, just in case someone came in and he needed to react quickly.

“Hyung, I’m cold… can I move over next to you?”

He asked quietly, almost sheepishly, but got no reply. Maybe no answer meant yes? Saejin quickly gathered his own box and brought it over, settling beside the man. The warmth of Woobeom’s body began to seep into his skin. Curling up like a shrimp, Saejin closed his eyes.

---

A couple of hours passed. The wind had picked up, and every so often, it rattled the shutter. Each time, Woobeom opened his eyes and scanned the area. The storage room where they’d shoved the corpses remained silent—maybe the infected didn’t turn into monsters if they died before mutating.

After confirming the area was still clear, Woobeom returned to his spot. Saejin, who had been tossing and turning in response to the man’s movements, began squirming as if wanting to lie down more comfortably.

‘Why’s he… sitting up?’

At first, he’d seemed to be sleeping soundly lying down, but at some point, he’d ended up dozing off while sitting. Woobeom was used to pulling all-nighters from his time in the organization, so a light nap didn’t affect him much. But Saejin—who’d openly declared he had terrible stamina—was a different case.

‘Figures.’

Maybe he was copying Woobeom in his sleep, but Saejin slowly lay down with his head on the floor. Still, the hard surface must have been uncomfortable; he kept fidgeting, practically flailing as he searched for a better position. Before long, his target became Woobeom’s thigh.

“Mmm… this is… hard too…”

“…Hah.”

Woobeom let out an incredulous breath and a short laugh. Like a clueless puppy, Yoon Saejin had not only made a pillow out of someone else’s thigh, but was now grumbling about it. Even as sleep talk, his pronunciation was perfectly clear—making the whole thing even more ridiculous.

“If it’s uncomfortable, get off.”

“Mmm… no…”

Saejin murmured that he couldn’t, then hugged Woobeom’s thigh and smacked his lips. Thinking a guy looked cute must have meant Woobeom had finally lost it. He turned his gaze away and tilted his head back.