The modified armored Humvee, plated with thick steel and streaked with rust, crawled through the darkness and gray fog before stopping dead in the parking plaza in front of Mega Mall Seoul. The diesel engine growled one last time and fell silent, leaving only the whisper of freezing wind.
Inside the cabin, Sergeant Choi and his four former special forces teammates sat frozen. Every pair of eyes widened, staring through the cracked windshield at the sight before them. This was no looted, crumbling shopping mall as they had expected. It was a four-meter-high reinforced concrete wall—smooth, brutally thick, and looking as if the cement had only just set. Razor wire crowned the top in three lethal layers, glinting under the blood-red neon glow of the massive sign that blazed above the building.
[THE GUN SHOP]
"What the actual fuck…" Dong-su, the hot-tempered giant of the group, cursed hoarsely. "A military-grade bunker wall? In a city full of walking corpses? Where the hell did they get the machinery, the cement, the time to build something like this?!"
"Don't get excited yet, Dong-su," Sergeant Choi said quietly, but sweat already slicked the hand gripping the wheel. "A big wall doesn't mean an army inside. Maybe they just got lucky, found a construction site, and forced some weak civilians to build it as a hiding place… But if they could raise a wall this strong, it means they have massive supplies inside."
Sergeant Choi's eyes shifted from exhaustion to dangerous greed. His arrogance as a battle-hardened soldier convinced him that their K2 rifles and tactical training could crush any civilians hiding behind concrete.
"Get out. Weapons hot. We're going in to 'share' their supplies," Sergeant Choi ordered.
Click-clack! Click-clack! Click-clack!
Slides racked, safeties flipped off. The five soldiers leaped from the Humvee and fanned out into a half-moon formation, every barrel trained on the single massive steel gate—the only entrance through the wall.
"Hey!! You rats hiding inside, listen up!!" Dong-su bellowed, voice echoing off the concrete. "We are South Korean Special Forces! Open the gate and hand over all your supplies! We'll protect you! If you resist, we'll blow this fucking gate open and slaughter every last one of you!"
The threat rang out… but the answer was not terrified screams or the panicked footsteps of defenders.
It was the slow, grinding sound of heavy steel sliding open.
The soldiers tightened their grips on the K2s, fingers hovering over triggers, ready to spray death at whoever stepped out. But the figure that emerged made their nerves seize in utter confusion.
Instead of armored troops or a mob with machetes, only one man walked forward.
He was tall, handsome, impeccably groomed. He wore a flawless black bespoke suit, black shirt with the top buttons undone to reveal a powerful chest, and polished Italian leather shoes that reflected the red neon light. No body armor. No rifle. Not even a radio. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, posture relaxed and regal, as if strolling through the lobby of a five-star hotel.
And the most unnerving part was the wide, polite smile on his face—courteous, almost warm, yet it sent ice crawling down every spine.
"Good evening, honored guests," Clone Number One greeted them, voice smooth, melodic, and perfectly clear even without a speaker. "Welcome to The Gun Shop, kingdom of ash and commerce… I am Number One, branch manager and head of customer relations. Would you like to browse our weapon catalog, or are you looking for safe lodging?"
Sergeant Choi and his team frowned, exchanging baffled glances. Their rifles stayed locked on the lone man in the suit.
"What kind of fucking joke is this?" Dong-su laughed in disbelief, lowering his barrel slightly. "This guy's lost his mind? Wearing a suit and tie to greet people at the end of the world? You think you're Bruce Wayne or something, you pasty-faced freak?!"
"Cosplay?" Tae-sik, the young driver, sneered. "He must've been hiding in the mall so long he went insane. Go get your boss, you crazy bastard, before we blow your head off!"
Number One did not flinch. If anything, his smile widened until his teeth showed. The sadistic glint in his eyes began to sparkle.
"Cosplay? Oh no, not at all," Number One shook his head with mock politeness. "It's just that Italian fabric is rather rare these days, so I like to keep up appearances… Now, do you gentlemen have any 'lifespan' or 'valuable blueprints' to trade for our goods? Because if you plan to pay the entrance fee with 'stinking sweat' and 'mud on your stupid army boots'… our shop reserves the right to refuse service."
The mocking, razor-sharp insult snapped the soldiers' patience like dry bone.
"You piece of shit—you're begging to die!!"
Dong-su roared, rage boiling over. He no longer cared about negotiation. He wanted to teach this delusional salaryman exactly how terrifying real soldiers could be. He shouldered his K2 in one fluid motion and aimed at the suited man's right shoulder—intending to cripple him first, then finish the job.
"Dong-su! Don't kill him yet—we need information—" Sergeant Choi shouted.
Too late.
BANG!!
The 5.56mm round roared across the plaza. Muzzle flash lit the night. The copper-jacketed bullet tore through the air straight toward the suited man's shoulder.
To ordinary human eyes, a bullet was unavoidable death. But to Clone Number One—who had inherited SPD 14 from his creator—the world slowed to a crawl like a video in slow motion.
He saw the muzzle flash, saw the spinning bullet's trajectory cutting the air. His smile never faltered. He simply tilted his upper body a few centimeters to the left—at a speed no human eye could track.
Fwooosh…
The 5.56mm round whistled past his suit sleeve by a single millimeter and slammed into the concrete wall behind him, sparking on impact.
The soldiers' eyes bulged. Their brains short-circuited. The man hadn't dodged… or rather, he had—but he moved too fast. Far too fast for any human.
"That shot…" Number One's voice was a cold whisper, no longer coming from the gate but from the exact center of their half-moon formation. "I'll consider that the opening of your bill."
Sergeant Choi, Tae-sik, Hee-jin, and Dong-su whipped around in shock. The man who should have been ten meters away was now standing right in the middle of them. He had moved without sound, without warning—like a ghost warping through space.
"Hey!!" Tae-sik screamed, spinning his barrel toward the intruder.
But Number One was faster.
Crack! Thud!
His palm chopped into Tae-sik's throat with bone-crushing force. The young driver's eyes rolled back; he collapsed, choking. In the same heartbeat, Number One spun and kicked the next soldier's knee out from under him, then used his gloved left hand to slap Sergeant Choi's rifle barrel aside and drive an elbow into the sergeant's solar plexus. Kevlar crumpled. Sergeant Choi gagged, face turning purple, and dropped to his knees.
In 1.5 seconds, three elite soldiers were disarmed and on the ground. Number One's movements were fluid, flawless, and powered by STR 14 strength far beyond human limits.
"What… the hell are you?!" Dong-su shrieked, sanity fracturing. He stumbled backward, trying to bring his K2 up again.
Number One's smile widened into a crescent of pure menace. He stepped inside Dong-su's reach in a blur, seized the rifle barrel with one hand, and ripped the weapon away as easily as taking a toy from a child.
Number One flipped the captured K2 in his grip, then slammed the hot muzzle upward under Dong-su's chin with brutal force, snapping the giant's head back.
"Guh—!" Dong-su froze, body rigid, the rifle barrel pressed tight against his throat. Number One's finger rested on the trigger.
A suffocating silence fell. Only the panicked breathing of the remaining soldiers could be heard.
Number One tilted his head, still smiling politely, but his voice dripped with venom that sank straight into bone.
"Listen carefully, you filthy wet trash…" Number One lowered his tone to a whisper. "Our shop has one iron rule: no shooting inside the store unless you've paid for the bullets first."
"W-wait—let me go—" Dong-su stammered, voice trembling. All his military arrogance had shattered.
BANG!!!!
Number One pulled the trigger without blinking.
The 5.56mm round punched up through Dong-su's chin, tore through his palate, and exploded out the top of his skull. The head burst open like a blooming red flower. Blood, brain matter, and bone fragments sprayed in every direction, splattering across Sergeant Choi's and Hee-jin's faces as they knelt below.
Dong-su's headless body toppled backward with a wet thud, blood pooling across the concrete.
Number One stood motionless amid the crimson mist. He glanced down at the few drops of blood that had landed on his Italian leather shoes and suit sleeve, then sighed theatrically.
"Damn it…" Number One shook his head, pulling a black handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his hand. "Dry-cleaning costs are ridiculous these days, you know? You've just increased our operating expenses."
He tossed the bloodied K2 onto the ground like trash, then turned to the four surviving soldiers whose souls had nearly fled their bodies. Hee-jin's sniper rifle clattered from her shaking hands. Sergeant Choi, veteran of countless battlefields, now looked as pale as paper. They finally understood—they had not faced lucky civilians. They had walked into a demon wearing human skin.
Number One stepped over Dong-su's corpse and stopped directly in front of the kneeling sergeant. The sadistic smile vanished, leaving only eyes so cold and powerful they crushed the soul.
"Listen well, you pathetic worms…" Number One's voice was soft, almost gentle. "If you didn't come here to 'buy goods' or 'sell information,' then take your rotting carcasses and leave. But if any of you dare fire another shot at me, or make even one noise that disturbs the boss's sleep…"
He leaned down and whispered directly into Sergeant Choi's ear.
"…I will blow every one of your heads open, scoop out the empty skulls, and use them as flower pots at the main gate… Is that clear, dear customers?"
Sergeant Choi swallowed thickly. Every survival instinct screamed at him to submit. He nodded frantically, all dignity gone.
"C-clear… perfectly clear!"
"Wonderful!" Number One snapped his fingers. The polite butler smile returned instantly, as if flipping a switch. "Now… shall we begin proper business negotiations? Or would you like to sample our 'free skull-piercing service' promotion a little more—perhaps one or two additional customers?"