Destruction — Chapter 14

While fiddling with his phone, Saejin realized that both data and Wi-Fi were completely down. The slow loading times earlier that morning had been a warning. Now the connection was completely gone.

“Hyung… the internet’s out.”

Calls, texts, the internet—none of it worked now. The phone was just a useless electronic brick. It wasn’t unexpected, but it still left Saejin unsure of how they’d get information moving forward.

That’s when he noticed Woobeom wasn’t paying attention to him at all. He was focused, almost like a predator, silently observing something. Following his line of sight led Saejin to the rearview mirror—Woobeom was watching the driver, Choi Daeseok, almost like he was surveilling him.

“Hyung?”

At Saejin’s insistent whisper, Woobeom turned his head and lifted his index finger to his lips. Be quiet. Saejin clamped his mouth shut, chastened. The van fell into temporary silence—but it didn’t last long.

“…Ugh!”

The van suddenly tilted to one side, bumping over a motorcycle that had been sprawled across the road. The jolt made Saejin bite his tongue, and he grabbed his cheek with tears welling up in his eyes. The motorcycle, having been struck with considerable speed, was flung aside with a loud crash, sending shards of broken parts skidding across the asphalt.

“Aaagh!”

Go Jeongju, who had his arm resting on the window, let out a cry of pain. A piece of debris had flown through the open window and struck his right arm. He clutched it with a grimace, then clenched his teeth and yanked the fragment out. A large bruise formed around the torn skin, and blood gushed freely from the wound.

“Huuu…”

He tried to calm his breathing through the pain, but the van rocked again—this time from the driver yanking the wheel to avoid a roadside tree.

“Shit! Learn to fucking drive!”

Go Jeongju snapped, slamming his foot against the floor with rage. Saejin flinched, surprised at the aggression. His face had always seemed rough, but Saejin hadn’t expected him to be this violent. The outburst felt completely unlike a teacher. Choi Daeseok shot him a glare, telling him to knock it off.

‘…Must really hurt.’

Swearing didn’t necessarily make someone unfit to teach, and the wound looked serious. Blood was pooling in his lap. He needed to stop the bleeding. Go Jeongju must have known that too, because he pulled out a bandage from the glove compartment and wrapped his arm with practiced efficiency.

‘Has he done this a lot before…?’

It wasn’t easy to wrap a bandage with one hand, but he did it swiftly, even taping it up neatly.

“You said your name was Yoon Saejin, right? Could you pass me the map in that drawer?”

“Oh, yes!”

His questions were brushed aside by Choi Daeseok’s calm request. Saejin reached into the small compartment and pulled out a crumpled road map. So they still kept this around… He knew exactly whose it was. The director had always preferred paper maps, saying the internet was too hard to use.

It was the same map Saejin had seen as a child—it brought back a wave of nostalgia. He handed it to Choi Daeseok, who accepted it with one hand while still driving. A small smile spread across Saejin’s face—on the back of the map was a colorful drawing.

‘Right, this would’ve been perfect for a kid’s sketchbook.’

The director had always doted on the children, never scolding them for doodling. Looking at the flowers, butterflies, and strange little characters scribbled across the page made Saejin feel warm.

The map listed which highways to take and how many rest stops were along the way. Even without the internet, they wouldn’t get lost.

As they left the more densely populated part of the city, the number of abandoned vehicles decreased significantly, making it much easier to travel. They no longer had to switch constantly between sidewalks, shoulders, and the road—just changing lanes now was enough.

As the drive smoothed out, Saejin cast a glance at the back of Go Jeongju’s head. He thought about asking if he was okay, but the image of him yelling irritably kept flashing through his mind. He figured it might be better to leave him alone—after all, pain could make anyone cranky.

“Hyung, are you carsick?”

Saejin, who had been sneaking glances at Jeongju, now turned to look at Woobeom. Woobeom had remained silent ever since getting into the car. Saejin examined his expression, wondering if he might be sick. Woobeom slowly shook his head, raised his eyebrows slightly, then bent down. His fingers reached for a pill bottle that had rolled back to the heel of his shoe.

‘Isn’t that the director’s supplement…?’

It must’ve fallen during the jostling earlier. Glancing behind him, Saejin noticed that the director hadn’t woken up despite all the commotion. He had never been a light sleeper, but they’d hit a motorcycle—that crash alone should’ve woken anyone up. Even Saejin, who didn’t fully grasp the situation, felt something wasn’t right.

“Director…?”

Saejin reached out to gently shake the old man awake, but Woobeom stopped him, silently shaking his head and motioning for him to pull his hand back.

“Why?”

“Shh.”

Like before, Woobeom lifted his index finger to his lips, signaling for silence. Saejin had no idea what Woobeom was up to, but something about the atmosphere felt off. It was clumsy but strangely sharp—an instinct he couldn’t ignore. Sometimes a person’s gut feeling was sharper than any beast’s.

Through the rearview mirror, Woobeom kept watch on the people seated in the front. Bending over under the pretense of checking his pants, he picked up one of the pills. He rolled it between his fingers, sniffed it, then, still unsure, bit off a piece with his fingernail and crushed it. When he licked the powder off his thumb, a familiar bitterness spread across his tongue, making it tingle.

He’d had his fill of all sorts of pills back when he was in the organization. With enough exposure, you could identify most illicit drugs from just a small amount.

“…Aha.”

Woobeom brushed the remaining powder off onto the floor and sat back up as if nothing had happened.

The base compound seemed to be Alprosenticaine, known for its full-body anesthetic effects, and it had been mixed with Zolpidem, a sedative. The “supplement” that the deputy director had supposedly given the old man was essentially a strong sedative and anesthetic combo. With both combined, the effect would be powerful—explaining why the director hadn’t stirred despite the chaos.

That’s when it all clicked. Why the director had seemed familiar. Who this “deputy director” really was. It all came rushing back.

Now wasn’t the time to cause a scene in such a cramped space. Everything had a time and place. And if his hunch was right, they wouldn’t be in the car for much longer anyway.

From the toll gate onward, wrecked vehicles began appearing more frequently. It seemed people had tried to escape and forcibly pushed through roadblocks. Thanks to those early escapees, the road was surprisingly clear.

While the van sped ahead, Saejin counted more than ten bodies scattered across the road—like roadkill. Flattened, broken, or torn, the remains were strewn across the asphalt. After a while, he gave up trying to look out the window and kept his head down, fidgeting with his fingers.

Go Jeongju, who had been clutching his injured arm, was now snoring with his head tilted back.

‘Where are we now?’

Saejin ducked forward to read the road signs past the rearview mirror—only to meet eyes with Choi Daeseok. He hadn’t expected Daeseok to be watching him. Startled, Saejin sat upright, tense. Daeseok didn’t say anything, but it felt like he’d just been silently ordered to stay put.

“We’re out of fuel. Looks like we’ll need to stop at a rest area.”

Thanks to maintaining a speed of 110 km/h, they had just reached Uiwang Rest Area. If they kept this pace, they could be in Suwon within 20 minutes. Though Jeongju’s injury was concerning, they’d made it this far without major issues. As promised, Daeseok took the next exit toward the rest stop.

Given how uncertain fuel availability was, plenty of people had likely stopped here already. Sure enough, there were several parked cars. That meant people. Saejin instinctively became alert, eyes wide, scanning the area.

“Do you think they’ll have fuel?”

“We’ll find out.”

Unfazed, Daeseok pulled up at the self-service pump and turned off the ignition. He nudged the sleeping Go Jeongju awake and gestured toward the fueling station. Half-asleep, Jeongju stretched reflexively—only to wince in pain and curse as he lowered his arm.

“I’ll go fill it up. You all stay inside.”

Glancing around and seeing no one nearby, Jeongju got out. He walked around the hood, opened the fuel cap, and began pumping gas. The pungent scent of gasoline filled the air. While they waited for the tank to fill, they heard him muttering outside.

“I should wash this off… Could you wait a moment?”

“Oh, sure…”

Opening the door on Saejin’s side, Jeongju explained that he wanted to use the restroom. It wasn’t a big deal to wait for that, but going alone seemed dangerous. Saejin wondered if he should go with him, but Jeongju had already chosen Daeseok instead.

After fueling up, Jeongju got back in the passenger seat, and Daeseok parked near the restroom entrance.

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

Waving casually, Jeongju headed off with Daeseok. Watching them silently, Woobeom finally opened his mouth.

“Yoon Saejin.”

“Yes…?”

“Can you stay put?”

“Where are you going?”

“Just for a bit.”

“…Okay, I’ll stay here.”

Saejin had no intention of getting out of the car anyway. He wanted nothing to do with danger. Sensing Saejin was sincere, Woobeom grabbed his weapon and stepped outside.

“Wake up the old man.”

He nodded toward the seat where the director was slumped. Without waiting for a response, he shut the door and walked off.

Still unsure what was going on, Saejin climbed into the back to wake the director.

“Director? Sir?”

No matter how many times he called, the man didn’t even flinch. Saejin grabbed his shoulder and shook it, but got little response. The only movement was the director’s hand sliding off his thigh and falling limp.

“Director!”

This time he shook harder. The old man furrowed his brow and slowly opened his eyes—but even then, he remained groggy and disoriented, like he was under the influence. Seeing his unfocused pupils made Saejin’s heart race.

“Are you okay? Are you sick…?”

He didn’t have a fever. His corneas looked fine. Saejin tilted a bottle of water to his lips, hoping it would help—but the man couldn’t even drink, letting the water spill from his mouth.

‘What’s going on…? No way…’

Watching the director in this state, only one suspicion came to mind: the supplement. He remembered Woobeom examining the pill bottle earlier. He remembered the way Woobeom had told him to wake the director.

‘Did Hyung know something?’

Saejin picked up the pill bottle again. Now that he looked closer, it was suspicious in more ways than one. Though the label listed common ingredients like calcium and magnesium, there was no brand name, no company logo—no source at all.

The pills had supposedly come from the deputy director.

‘Why would someone give him this…?’

A chill spread across Saejin’s skin like crawling insects. With a pale face, he wiped his brow and kept trying to bring the director back to himself. He rubbed his arms and legs, soaked some cloth with water, and wiped his hands and face.

Eventually, anger welled up inside him.

He didn’t know exactly what was happening to the director, but one thing was clear—it wasn’t something that could be brushed off.