Chapter 89: We Have to Change the Future

“Man, thank you. Seriously, thank you so much.”

Kim Yongcheol, the president of the Peach Valley Youth Association, kept thanking Junho over and over.

And no wonder. The bag Kim Yongcheol was clutching so carefully was filled with painkillers, arthritis medicine, and antibiotics made by Baek Sua.

“Now that the world’s turned into this kind of mess, medicine really matters. And our village has so many old folks that there are plenty who wouldn’t even last a week without it.”

“Are they that sick?”

Junho asked because he wondered if there were elderly people hanging on by a thread, and one of the Youth Association men who had come with Kim Yongcheol gave a short laugh and said,

“They’re just being dramatic. What’s that thing called? The flashback effect? Anyway, it’s just that when they stop taking their meds, they feel like they’re hurting again. They’re all doing just fine.”

“Ah, the placebo effect.”

“Yeah, that. Still, the antibiotics and arthritis meds really are a huge help. They work pretty well.”

Of course they did.

With the AI’s help, the medicine Baek Sua made from open-source formulas was almost no different from what was sold on the market.

And on top of that, the dedicated pharmaceutical refrigerators and freezers were packed with finished products, and they still had a lot of APIs left.

If they used both the stockpiled supplies and what Baek Sua manufactured, they had enough to last four or five years, not just for the shelter members but even if they handed it out to the residents of Peach Valley and Gahyeon-ri too.

“The medicine’s appreciated, but that over there is even more appreciated. We’ll put it to good use, Mr. Junho.”

One of the men grinned broadly as he pointed at the things loaded onto three A-frames.

They were six twenty-liter jerry cans filled with gasoline and diesel, a small generator, and a five-kilowatt power tank.

“It’s nothing. We’ve still got about ten more drums of fuel, and we’ve got two more generators and power tanks each, so we’ve got room to spare. This is just what we could afford to let go of, so don’t worry about it.”

In reality, they had dozens of times more than that, but because Junho had to keep playing the part of an ordinary survivor who had just been lucky enough to score big in the early large-scale looting, he said it without blinking.

“Still, thank you for this.”

And Junho had not just been handing things out to Peach Valley for nothing.

Thankfully, the Peach Valley residents were easy people to trade with, the kind who knew what courtesy and decency were.

In return for the medicine, fuel, generators, and so on that Junho brought them, they had brought back more than ten kilograms of jerky and soy-braised meat made from the wild boar and water deer they had been catching lately.

That was not all. They had also brought one large crock each of homemade red-pepper paste and fermented soybean paste.

They had also brought a substantial amount of homemade country foods like greenhouse strawberries and pears—specialties of Namyangju—along with fruit like Shine Muscat grapes, dried deodeok root, and pickled vegetables.

Of course, most of those were things the shelter already had in its cold storage and ultra-low-temperature freezer too.

But these had that handmade country flavor to them, and there was enough to get the shelter through the winter, so there was no downside at all.

“Man, but are you really going to be able to carry all this?”

“It’s fine. I’m strong, and those two are good with their backs too.”

Where Junho’s gaze landed, Junhyeok and Park Deokcheol were steadily loading the things they had received from the Peach Valley Youth Association onto A-frames.

“Sure is reassuring having young people around. By the way, Mr. Junho, any new news from Gahyeon-ri or Moku-ri?”

At Kim Yongcheol’s question, Junho mixed what he had originally known with the information the shelter had gathered and answered in a measured way.

“Looks like the gangsters in Gahyeon-ri and the original residents there are going to go at it pretty soon. As for Moku-ri, I hear it’s basically a war zone. Like you know, there are just so many people there. And a ton of apartment complexes too.”

Centered around the light-rail station in the greater Seoul area, Moku-ri alone had nearly twenty apartment complexes, each with four or five hundred units at a minimum, and the bigger ones running well over eight hundred.

And though both places were technically just “ri,” Gahyeon-ri had a population under ten thousand, while Moku-ri had over a hundred thousand. Add in Gangheon-ri, which shared the same metro station, and it came to nearly a hundred and fifty thousand.

Of course, that was nothing compared to a city like Bucheon, where a full eight hundred thousand people were packed together.

But for a place about one-third Bucheon’s size to hold a hundred and fifty thousand people still meant the population density was serious.

“And Moku-ri, together with Hwado-eup, is basically Namyangju’s old downtown, right?”

“Sure is. Used to have a movie theater too. And nightclubs.”

“Even now there are karaoke joints and hostess bars all over there. Coffee lounges too.”

As expected, they were older men who had lived in Namyangju almost their whole lives, so they knew that whole side of things inside and out.

“Right. So I guess there must’ve been organized crime over there. Between those gangs, the factory workers in Moku-ri, and the apartment complexes, it sounds like total chaos.”

“Lord have mercy. So now that the world’s gone like this, having lots of people is the problem instead.”

“Yeah. Which is why Peach Valley really got lucky. There are only two ways in and out of there, right?”

“That’s right. We blocked the main road ages ago, and now we only move through the back mountain. We strung wire all through the paddies and fields too.”

That was why the cities had all been turned into total ruins, but most rural villages had still managed to keep more than half their population alive.

“But any other news from Yeongho-ri or the other villages?”

At Junho’s question, Kim Yongcheol thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers.

“Ah! About a week ago, you know Jukgeumsan over there in Naebang-ri? We could hear gunfire and cannon fire, faint-like, coming from that side.”

“Jukgeumsan in Naebang-ri... that’s over toward Gapyeong and Pocheon, isn’t it?”

“Right. Take the expressway and it’s Pocheon. Take the national road and it’s Gapyeong.”

Both were places where major Republic of Korea Army units had been stationed.

Pocheon especially had units where both Junho and Junhyeok had served before discharge, and Gapyeong also had a capital mechanized infantry division whose base was extremely close to Namyangju.

‘The main force probably headed for northern Seoul as soon as everything broke loose. So was it a remnant unit? Or routed troops?’

Whatever it was, it was not good news.

There was a high chance their supply lines had been cut, and if so, their soldiers’ morale would be low and their resentment high.

More than anything, units like that had a very high chance of seizing some defenseless village and settling in as kings.

‘They probably won’t come into our shelter’s safe zone, but we need to be careful.’

Before regression, no such military unit had stayed in either their shelter area or Gahyeon-ri.

But just because they had not stayed there did not mean he could rule out the possibility that they had passed through the region.

So if they saw military units, they needed to keep their heads down as much as possible.

“Thanks for letting me know. Anyway, like I told you before, you really need to be careful with soldiers. They act like they’re there to help, and then you never know when they’ll turn. So if you make contact with them, give them what they want and send them on their way fast. They’ll probably just demand food anyway.”

“Right. That’s why we hid all the food we secured in a cave up in the back mountain. We only kept about two or three weeks’ worth in the cold storage.”

“Well done. Then I’ll see you again next time.”

“Right. Travel safe. Ah, and have a good New Year. Hope the new year treats you well, and make sure you stay alive.”

“Yes. I hope the same for all of you.”

Having agreed to meet the Peach Valley Youth Association again in fifteen days, Junho exchanged even that apocalypse-style New Year’s greeting with them before parting ways.

The amount of food they had received was considerable, so it was fairly heavy, but since all three of them split it among separate A-frames, it was not too bad.

The three of them then climbed the mountain for around thirty minutes with the A-frames on their backs.

After loading the supplies onto the multipurpose electric cart they had hidden along the narrow mountain path connected to the newly established guard post, they returned to the shelter through sleet drifting down from the now-clouded sky.

***

The Christmas party, which also served as a birthday party for Choi Jiwoo and Baek Sua, ended in great success.

Little Jiwoo received far more gifts and congratulations than on the birthdays she had celebrated before the world changed like this.

Her father, Choi Jeongwoo, even cried over it.

Baek Sua was very embarrassed too, but she did not seem to dislike it.

And everyone in the shelter enjoyed themselves just as much as the two guests of honor did.

The party started in the dining hall and continued in the lounge.

After the kids fell asleep, it wrapped up in the shelter karaoke room in the basement of the main building, another thing Junho had strongly insisted on building.

The shelter members knew what kind of state the outside world was in, but they acted and enjoyed themselves as though they had forgotten it.

And they were grateful that they were alive—and not just alive, but living in comfort so abundant other people could not even imagine it.

And that gratitude naturally turned toward Junho, who had poured everything into building this shelter for more than two years.

But Junho knew some of the people in the shelter still found him deeply intimidating.

So after staying with them only through the lounge portion, he quietly slipped away and headed to the workshop.

***

“Looks good.”

As he inspected the G1 ground drones fitted with armor plates, Junho nodded.

The G1 drones had gained some weight, and now there was barely any trace left of their original appearance as children’s electric carts.

With the structure altered and camouflage waterproof sheeting thrown over them for the season, they now looked like purpose-built weapons to anyone who saw them.

And depending on the situation, the G1 drones could perform better than people—better even than skilled combat personnel.

They did not feel fear, they could maneuver faster, and their shooting accuracy was higher than a human’s.

Of course, they had weaknesses too: their immediate, adaptive response capability was lacking, and their operating time was under an hour.

“Numbers like this ought to do it...”

Looking over the twelve G1 drones, Junho wore a satisfied expression.

Of course, he could not deploy all twelve into combat at once.

Unfortunately, the AI Akina that ran the drones already handled countless tasks under normal conditions, and that remained true in combat too.

Under normal circumstances, four deployed at once was the recommendation, and even if some systems were left idle, eight was the limit.

Still, that was enough.

Against regular troops or looter groups using firearms, he expected three or four alone to provide powerful stopping power.

And if the enemy was zombies, then in an environment like Gahyeon-ri they would be extremely effective.

That was possible because they could estimate the zombies’ rough locations and movement routes, and above all because the numbers here were far lower than in the city.

“I’m counting on you.”

After giving the fully charged G1 drones lined up in two rows one final look, Junho murmured that and left the workshop.

The others were still partying, but today too, he had to check on the bastards they had been keeping under especially close surveillance for the past two weeks.

***

“How’s it look? And... what the hell is that getup?”

“You’re here? Ah, this?”

For reasons Junho could not begin to guess, Yoon Youngsu—wearing a red cone hat, with a stocking hanging beside the monitor, snacking on potato chips while drinking nonalcoholic fruit wine—pulled his feet down from the desk.

“This is how I spent Christmas every year. It’s just fun, you know. Heh.”

“...Right. Anyway, what about Hanchang Development?”

“Doesn’t look like they’re making any unusual moves.”

Yoon Youngsu spoke while splitting the video feeds from the PTZ cameras at the communications relay station, Hanaareum Nursing Home, and the newly built guard post near the reservoir across the main monitor.

“There’s been so much snow that outside the thermal-imaging range, even the PTZ cameras can barely see anything. Want me to launch the drones?”

“Hold for now. If they move, they’ll need a large number of people, so the PTZ cameras will definitely catch it.”

As soon as December began, the place Junho cared about most and Yoon Youngsu watched most intensely was Hanchang Development and the area held by the old Jung-dong locals those bastards were targeting.

The side led by Song Gijun at The First Apartments also looked like it might blow up with the survivors from Edutown Apartments at any moment.

But the people there were all civilians, and once the weather turned sharply colder, they stopped going out much from either their apartment buildings or the mart, so Junho figured nothing major would happen there for a while.

But Hanchang Development and the old Jung-dong locals were different.

More than anything, Junho knew that at some point between December 2024 and January 2025, those two forces had clashed hard.

Beep... beep... beep...

Just then, a low alert tone sounded.

“......!?”

Junho and Yoon Youngsu both turned toward the main monitor at the same time.

—Large-scale personnel movement has been detected in High-Surveillance Zone A. Exact headcount unavailable. Estimated minimum 30, maximum 40.

“Youngsu, drone.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tap-tap-tap! Tap!

Along with the quick, lively clatter of the keyboard—

—External work drones 01 and 02. Launching.

The two drones, fully charged and waiting on standby, lifted off from the drone pad at the same time.

By car it would have taken about twenty minutes, but cruising along the closest flight path, the drones reached the sky above the target area in about five minutes.

And soon, from roughly a hundred meters up, they began recording the ground with thermal cameras.

—Total personnel: 33. Target for elimination number 2 confirmed. Four persons of interest confirmed. One air rifle. Four compound bows and crossbows. All remaining personnel are armed with blades and blunt weapons.

Listening to AI Akina’s cold, businesslike voice, Junho knew at once.

Today was the day Hanchang Development rose to become the dominant force in Gahyeon-ri.

But he was not just going to stop that.

He had to change Gahyeon-ri’s future.