—Boom!
The moment Balk kicked the wire, the bombs rigged along both sides of the escalator exploded instantly. Balk was violently thrown backward, his body torn and bloodied, tumbling down the stairs in a broken heap.
The few people standing below, about to climb up, stared in stunned silence. Seeing Balk's lifeless body at their feet, their bodies began trembling uncontrollably.
"I surrender! Don't kill me!"
After witnessing their "comrades" die one after another, a younger man in the group could take no more. He raised both hands above his head and ran toward the escalator, shouting surrender, tears of terror streaming down his face. He was utterly broken.
The others, seeing this, felt a flicker of hope. Some even took a step forward, ready to follow.
—Bang!
But just as others were about to move, a gunshot rang out from the second floor. The young man let out a choked groan. Then silence. Moments later, bright red blood began slowly trickling down the escalator.
The group below stood frozen, shaking uncontrollably. It was as if Death himself was walking toward them. Now, they all understood.
These quarantine zone soldiers had never intended to let any of them leave alive.
—Cough… cough…
—Clang!
Lyle shoved the debris off his body and struggled to his feet, staring back at the roaring flames and the agonized screams of his comrades. He felt no urge to help. Clutching his pistol, he turned and sprinted toward the exit.
In his heart, there was regret… and relief.
Regret for not stopping the mission, even though he'd sensed something was wrong—leading all their fighters straight into the enemy's trap.
Relief because, instinctively, he'd stayed at the rear. When he sensed danger, he turned and fled—barely escaping the firestorm.
He didn't know how long those inside would last. But his priority now was to regroup with the men he'd left outside and escape.
"Ben! Ben!"
He shoved open the main door. Thick smoke poured out. He gasped for fresh air and shouted the name of the tattooed man he'd left behind.
But in the dark street, no one answered.
Lyle swallowed hard, raised his pistol, and stepped forward, moving slowly toward where he'd left his men.
Halfway there, he suddenly froze. Then, without warning, he spun and bolted toward the opposite side of the street—no longer searching for his comrades, just wanting to save himself.
—Huff… huff…
He sprinted desperately, breath ragged. Though the street was dark, he'd roamed this town for nearly a year. He knew the layout well. He glanced back repeatedly, checking for pursuers.
But as he neared the far end, a figure suddenly lunged up from a downhill path and charged at him.
—Bang! Bang! Bang!
Lyle, nerves on edge, didn't hesitate. He raised his pistol and fired blindly at the approaching figure.
—Uuuh…!
Bullets struck the attacker. His eyes widened in disbelief, a pained groan escaping his lips. But his body kept moving forward. He slammed into Lyle, knocking him to the ground.
Lyle shoved the body off, scrambled backward, and pointed his shaking gun at the dark shape.
But seconds passed… and the figure didn't move.
Lyle slowly got to his feet, trying to see who had attacked him.
It was too dark. He could only make out a human shape, not the face. But something about the build looked familiar.
At that moment, the clouds parted. The moon emerged, bathing the street in silver light.
—Aaah!
Under the moonlight, Lyle's pupils shrank. He screamed and stumbled back.
The face was covered in tattoos. Hands bound behind his back. A gag in his mouth. Red eyes staring straight at him.
It was Ben—the man he'd left on guard.
—Shhh!
As Lyle stared at the corpse, rapid footsteps approached from behind. A sharp pain in his neck. Then—blackness. He collapsed, unconscious.
Kim Seong-min looked down at Lyle with a sneer. He couldn't believe this fool was the leader of a survivor group. Pathetic.
Then he glanced at Ben's body.
"Don't blame me. I gave you a chance. But your boss didn't even look before he shot."
With that, Kim slung Lyle over his shoulder and headed back to the shopping center.
Shopping Center Entrance
Brian sat calmly on a bench, watching the first floor burn. He gave a barely noticeable shake of his head. He'd already received all updates via radio.
This so-called "battle" had been even easier than expected. No… it wasn't even a battle. It was a one-sided slaughter. Those inside were nothing but a disorganized mob—leaderless, like scattered sand.
"Captain, we've eliminated them all. They're all captured. The older man who escaped—seems to be their leader. Kim's bringing him back now."
Elton ran up, reporting.
"Good. What about the tattooed man he captured?"
"Uh…" Elton coughed, scratching his head. "You know how he is. Probably… already dead."
"Hmph. That guy."
Brian shook his head slightly, stood from the bench.
"Alright. Let's go see them."
"Yes, sir."
They walked along the mall's perimeter toward the southeast. In minutes, they reached an open plaza.
In the center, five people knelt—three men, two women. Hands bound behind their backs, heads down, filled with fear. Norman stood guard with his sniper rifle.
Brian gave Norman a quick order:
"Go check on the trucks and civilians. Keep them calm."
Then he slowly approached the five, scanning them one by one: an older Black man, a thin young man, a fat, bearded man, a middle-aged woman with short hair, and a woman with glasses.
"So…"
Brian leaned down, smiling kindly.
"Who wants to tell me about your camp? If you cooperate, I can decide to let you go."
The older Black man narrowed his eyes, studying the seemingly gentle young soldier. When he looked up, he spoke with trembling fear:
"I… I'll tell you. Please… don't hurt us…"
The others exchanged glances, surprised. So quick?
Brian nodded, satisfied.
"Good. Smart choice. Go on."
"Our camp is in Lane Creek Natural Area, to the west. Most of us came tonight. Only guards, elders, women, and children remain."
"Oh? Is that so?"
The man saw Brian seemed to know nothing. A flicker of hope flashed in his eyes.
"If you don't believe me, you can go see for yourself…"
—Bang!
Before he could finish, Brian's expression darkened. He drew his pistol, aimed at the man's head, and fired without hesitation. The bullet punched through his skull.
—Thud!
The man fell backward, eyes wide with confusion. He didn't understand why he died.
Brian stared coldly at the corpse.
"There are always fools who think others are stupid. I hope… you're not one of them."