The sun bright on the cracked city, casting long shadows over the shattered skyline. On the rooftop of a nearby building, Songwoo and his group took cover, their bodies bruised and minds exhausted. They had made it—barely. For now, they were safe.
Nightfall was still hours away, and the sun made everything feel heavier.
Minjae stood watch, peering through the edge of the roof with narrowed eyes, while Daehyun tended to the injured. The little girl Yuri sat beside Ryu, gently stroking the fur of the now-silent wolf cub, who had returned to a resting form, conserving his energy.
From across the gap between buildings, distant sounds rose—screams, chaos, and gunshots. Inside the camp they had just escaped, Seok's carefully built empire was crumbling.
Seok's men were turning on each other. Supplies were scarce. Trust had died the moment the first innocent was thrown to the zombies. Now, some of his own followers were bitten and changed. Panic swept through the compound.
Seok himself stood among the carnage, trembling in fear, is it karma?. He snarled like an animal, throwing corpses at the infected to buy himself time.
His eye locked on a rooftop.
Across the rooftops, standing in the glow of dusk, was Songwoo. Still. Calm. Watching.
Their eyes locked.
In that moment, Seok's face twisted with rage. He'd lost control, lost his prisoners, lost the boy who was supposed to be his most valuable weapon.
He roared, "SONGWOO!!"His voice echoed into the air like a dying beast's final howl.
But Songwoo didn't flinch. He stared back, expression unreadable. Not anger. Not pride. Just quiet, cold determination.
Minjae muttered beside him, "He's falling apart."
"He already did," Songwoo replied. "Now he just knows it."
They waited for nightfall. Soon, they'd move again—toward freedom, toward survival, toward something more.
On the rooftop, the survivors regrouped. They counted thirty-two people in total—including Songwoo's original group. The others were those who had resisted Seok's rule and now looked toward Songwoo with silent hope.
The chief, still alive but unconscious, lay wrapped in makeshift bandages. Her breathing was shallow. Songwoo had stayed by her side for a long time that morning, before standing up to address the others.
"We can't stay on rooftops forever," he said, eyes focused, voice calm. "We take the mall. Tonight."
"Well it could be dangerous. There are a lot of zombies....."
"You can't gain anything without taking risk." He is so determined to take over the mall.
The group stirred. The idea had already been brought up before, but now it felt real. Everyone knew it was big, dangerous—but necessary. The mall was massive. It had everything: supplies, space, and structure. With the shelter gone, it was the only chance at stability.
There were twelve capable fighters among them. They weren't trained soldiers—but they were survivors. People who had seen too much and lived anyway.
Daehyun, still limping slightly, stood beside Songwoo.
Ryu stood alert behind Yuri, watching everything silently. The bond between them was stronger now, almost like he could feel her thoughts.
As noon passed, preparations were complete. Ropes, weapons, rationed food, quiet determination—they packed all of it.
They leave Ryu, Yuri and Deahyun to protect others.
Then night came.
And they moved.
Creeping through cracked alleys and broken streets, they reached the front of the Seongnim Grand Mall—the towering building rising against the moonlight. The place stood still, almost sacred, and surrounded by zombies shuffling quietly in the dark.
Songwoo stepped forward, eyes fixed on the glass entrance like it was fate itself.
Behind him, the fighters, breathing softly in the dark.
Tonight would decide their future.
" First we will take over this place. then move out here." Every one agree with Songwoo.
As Songwoo and his group stood before the Seongnim Mall, the night air hung heavy with tension. The plan was clear—move in quietly, clear a path, and secure the upper floors before dawn. But just as he took a step forward, something stirred his instincts.
He stopped.
A faint shuffling sound echoed from the shadows near a fallen lamp post. Without hesitation, he raised his sword and pointed it into the darkness.
"Come out," Songwoo commanded, his voice steady and cold. "I know you're there."
The group behind him grew tense, readying their weapons. Moments later, a man slowly stepped forward, hands raised, followed by others—thin, cautious, worn from survival. For a moment, there was silence—then rustling. One by one, figures emerged cautiously from the shadows. A group of about twenty survivors, faces gaunt but alert, approached slowly. Their leader stepped forward—tall, firm, with a bloodied coat that dragged slightly on the cracked pavement. His face was calm, but his eyes told a different story: he'd seen death too many times and lived to tell it.
"We mean no harm," the man said, raising a hand in peace. "We saw your group from a distance. We're not part of Seok's faction. We came from the East District."
" They knew..."
The man glanced at the group—Minjae gripping a weapon, ready to attack any time.
Songwoo didn't lower his sword right away. "Why approach us?"
The man looked him dead in the eye. "Because we need allies. And because you're the only group we've seen standing strong. If you're planning to take this mall…" He looked at the massive building behind them. "Then we want in."
The others behind Songwoo shifted uneasily. Minjae stepped beside him and whispered, "We can't trust them so easily."
Songwoo sheathed his sword slowly but didn't let his guard down. "What's your name?"
The man replied firmly, "Jang Harin. And I swear on the lives of my people, we didn't come to fight you."
Songwoo studied him for a moment longer before speaking.
"Then prove it. Help us secure this mall. Fight beside us tonight. If you run, you'll regret it. If you fight, you stay."
Harin gave a small nod. "Agreed."
Songwoo's eyes scanned the group. They looked battered but not broken. And twenty more people meant more mouths to feed—but also more hands to fight.
Songwoo turned back to the looming mall entrance.
"Then let's reclaim it."