ZFS Chapter 18

Meanwhile, murmurs rose from the crowd.

 

“The internet’s not working.”

 

“Neither is the phone. Forget landlines—even emergency numbers like 119 and 112 are down.”

 

Anxious voices filled the air. People huddled together, checking their telecom providers and repeatedly trying to connect to the internet on phones that still showed a signal.

 

“The signal’s getting weaker and weaker. It was fine just a moment ago… What?! It’s completely gone now.”

 

A woman’s voice, laced with despair, acted like a trigger. Everyone frantically pulled out their phones, attempting to connect. Even Tae Yujun tried calling Dr. Jang.

 

―The service is currently unavailable. Please try again later.

 

Only the monotone voice of the automated system greeted him—there wasn’t even a hint of connection. Convinced there was an issue with the telecom networks, Tae Yujun grew increasingly anxious.

 

“Oh! It’s back! The signal’s back!”

 

“Mine too! The internet’s slow, but it works. Thank goodness.”

 

Relieved, people clung to their phones, calling acquaintances and checking the internet. Even Tae Yujun, hoping for a miracle, sent a message to Dr. Jang and tried calling him again. But as expected, there was no response. It felt as if a hole had been punched through his chest.

 

Perhaps because of the earlier outage, the tension in the air was palpable. The fear of losing connection again left everyone on edge. Even during meal distribution, Tae Yujun found himself checking his phone repeatedly—a habit unusual for him.

 

“Father, you look tired.”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

After finishing the meal distribution, Tae Yujun sat blankly in the small room. Won Hyuk approached and sat beside him.

 

“Is it because of the communication outage?”

 

“Yes… I wasn’t able to reach Dr. Jang anyway, but completely losing all communication still feels… strange.”

 

For a brief moment, emptiness, fear, uncertainty, and confusion washed over him. What if communication were permanently cut off? It was an exaggeration, but it felt as though modern civilization itself was crumbling.

 

The conveniences he had always taken for granted were unraveling, one by one. In just a few weeks, the towering structure of human civilization seemed to be collapsing. In moments like this, Tae Yujun knew he should pray—but he couldn’t bring himself to. Shame weighed on him, a reminder of his own helplessness.

 

No matter how much he tried to steady himself, the unease from the outage lingered. He couldn’t calm down. Couldn’t compose himself at all.

 

“Father.”

 

“Why are you calling me for?”

 

“Uh… do you need comfort?”

 

“What?”

 

Tae Yujun turned to look at Won Hyuk, who loosened his bloodstained tie and said,

 

“Your expression says it all. You look like someone in dire need of deep comfort.”

 

“When did I ever… No, it’s nothing. My job is to comfort others, not to be comforted.”

 

“That couldn’t possibly be true. Look, even your whole face is clouded over. If you’re struggling, just say so.”

 

Won Hyuk’s casual tone—like a fast-food cashier taking an order—only made Tae Yujun more reluctant to speak.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“If you keep pretending you’re fine, you’re going to wear yourself out, my dear Father.”

 

“Really, I’m okay. It’s nothing serious. I’m just… a bit tired, that’s all.”

 

As Tae Yujun spoke those words softly, his eyelids grew heavy. He was tired. His mind and body both felt drained.

 

“Alright, then lean on me and rest.”

 

“It’s only six o’clock.”

 

“There’s no sunlight here anyway. What’s the point of keeping track of day and night? Better to sleep while you can.”

 

True. Here, there was no sunrise or sunset—only dim interior lights flickering in the darkness.

 

I guess I should at the very least be grateful the electricity hasn’t gone out yet.

 

Lost in thought, Tae Yujun slowly drifted into deep sleep. Forgetting to push Won Hyuk away, he leaned against his shoulder. A comforting wave of sleep washed over him.

 

Then, suddenly—

 

Tae Yujun jolted awake. Won Hyuk was shaking his body so vigorously.

 

“Father! Wake up, quick!”

 

“B-Brother…?”

 

“Vibration. Your phone! It’s vibrating!”

 

“Huh…?”

 

Tae Yujun finally registered the vibration, unnoticed amidst the shaking. His phone, buried in his pocket, was buzzing incessantly.

 

Startled to the core, he shot upright, a chill running down his spine as he stood up. His trembling hands fumbled into his pocket. Even as he stared at the screen, he couldn’t believe what he saw.

 

 

 

[Dr. Jang]

 

 

 

Tae Yujun hastily answered his phone, his hands shaking in panic. He nearly dropped it, but just in time, he managed to press the answer button.

 

“Dr. Jang!”

 

But instead of a human voice, a sharp beep echoed through the line. A series of mechanical sounds followed—beeping, thumping—and then, faintly in the background, the voice of a man speaking English. Though the words were unclear, his tone was unmistakably angry.

 

“Dr. Jang! Can you hear me? Where are you?”

 

—Yujun…

 

For a brief moment, it seemed like Dr. Jang’s voice had come through. But then, a loud thud rang in his ears—sharp and distinct, as if it had happened close by.

 

“Dr. Jang! Dr. Jang…!”

 

Tae Yujun called out urgently, but the line went dead. Panting, he redialed, only to hear a recorded message,

 

“The number you are trying to call is currently unavailable. Please try again later.”

 

“What’s going on? Was that Dr. Jang on the phone?”

 

“Yes. But now… now he’s not answering! It says his phone is unavailable.”

 

Nearly in tears, Tae Yujun redialed again and again, but the call wouldn’t go through. His heart pounded wildly, his head light and spinning with confusion. He didn’t fully understand what was happening, but an unshakable certainty gripped him—something terrible had occurred.

 

The thud. The angry foreign voice. The mechanical noises. None of it fit with the peaceful life Dr. Jang normally led.

 

A wave of dizziness suddenly washed over him, and his legs wobbled. Won Hyuk caught him just in time, easing him down onto the floor.

 

“Calm down. Let’s stay composed. First—are you sure it was Dr. Jang’s voice?”

 

“No doubt about it. He called my name.”

 

Tae Yujun rubbed his face with trembling hands, exhaling heavily before recounting everything he had heard to Won Hyuk.

 

“There might’ve been an incident in Yeouido. Let’s check the ‘Bunker’ thread for updates.”

 

“Ah, yes. Let’s do that.”

 

Both of their phones still had faint signals. Tae Yujun accessed the ‘Bunker’ community, a platform created after the zombie outbreak where people in different regions’ bunkers could communicate. He quickly searched for posts tagged with Yeouido.

 

As he scrolled, his breath caught—sharp and sudden.

 

 

 

[Yeouido] Did anyone else just hear something that sounded like a gunshot?

 

└ I heard it too. >> I live near Yeouinaru. It was faint, but I definitely caught something. What the hell was that?

 

└ I live near Building 73, and it was pretty loud from here. I was freaking out, thinking zombies finally learned to use guns.

 

└ But doesn’t that gunshot seem unrelated to zombies? Plus, it’s already evening… For reference, I heard an extremely loud noise coming from beyond Building 73, near the Han River. I’m certain of it.

 

 

 

Tae Yujun felt a chill run down his forearm as goosebumps spread across his skin. Netizens on the forum were claiming they had just heard gunshots. The mere thought that Dr. Jang might be involved sent cold sweat beading on his face.

 

“Something must have happened in Yeouido, right?”

 

Won Hyuk’s expression was grave. Tae Yujun nodded and showed him the posts he had found.

 

“The posts I read say the same. There were gunshots. But the suspected location is near Dr. Jang’s house….”

 

“What?”

 

“Beyond Building 73, near the Han River. Dr. Jang has an officetel there—he uses it as a lab.”

 

Tae Yujun’s face drained of color.

 

“What? Isn’t that dangerous?”

 

“Yes. I think… we need to verify it ourselves… I need to verify…”

 

His thoughts were a whirlwind. His head felt like it was going to burst. He took several deep breaths, trying to steady himself.

 

“Stay calm, Father. Right now, we need to gather all the information we can.”

 

Won Hyuk patted his shoulder. Tae Yujun shut his eyes tightly for a moment before opening them, forcing himself to focus.

 

“We need to check the news first.”

 

They accessed the portal site, but there were only recycled reports from the previous day. No breaking news about Yeouido. Lately, the media hadn’t been able to report properly. They only released basic statistics and scattered updates on the zombie crisis, with no substantial information.

 

“There’s nothing new.”

 

“Check the radio instead.”

 

Won Hyuk pulled a small, flat radio from the inside pocket of his suit vest and handed it to him. Tae Yujun pressed the auto FM scan button. A newscaster’s voice came through, but she was merely reciting routine updates—frequent sightings of unidentified assailants, government measures, and advice to await rescue. The same script as always. The government was still calling zombies “unidentified assailants,” as if avoiding the reality of the situation.

 

What on earth happened in Yeouido? Dr. Jang’s urgent cry. The mysterious man. The gunshots.

 

His stomach churned. His head throbbed. Staying trapped in the bunker wasn’t an option anymore.

 

I have to get to Yeouido as soon as possible. Even if Mapo Bridge is blocked, I’ll find a way. I can’t just stay here.

 

With firm resolve, he stood up.

 

“I have to check it out myself. Something must have happened to Dr. Jang.”

 

 

Won Hyuk stood as well, dusting off his clothes. His movements were quick and purposeful.

 

“If you’ve made up your mind, there’s no reason to delay. Let’s go.”