ZFS Chapter 8

Tae Yujun hesitated briefly before nodding. In this reality, where survival had become the ultimate goal, having someone strong fight selflessly for others was undeniably a great help.

 

“Hmm… sure, fine.”

 

“Wipe my face too. I’ve got wet wipes in my bag.”

 

“Yes, yes. Sure.”

 

Tae Yujun accepted the bag Won Hyuk handed him and retrieved a pack of wet wipes. Then, leaning in, he examined Won Hyuk’s face. Up close, the sharp, masculine lines made him look strikingly handsome.

 

Was it the scar on his forehead? Or perhaps his strong facial features? Instead of the air of a chaebol¹ heir, he exuded the raw scent of a primal, wild male.

 

Gulp. Tae Yujun swallowed, bringing the wet wipe to Won Hyuk’s face.

 

He carefully wiped over the scarred forehead beneath the short-cropped hair, down to the thick, manly eyebrows, and along the sharp bridge of his nose beneath his piercing eyes. As he rubbed over his cheeks, he could feel the firm muscles and solid structure through the thin fabric of the wipe.

 

It was his first time blatantly feeling someone’s face like this. Tae Yujun chuckled faintly.

 

“Ah, your touch feels nice. It’s gentle.”

 

“Stay still, please. You’re distracting me.”

 

“Can’t I even say something feels good when it does? But wait—maybe it’s just me, but now that you’re touching me, my headache’s completely gone. Could it be some kind of divine power?”

 

“That’s something only cults say.”

 

As the two lightly bickered, Won Hyuk eventually fell asleep, his breathing soft and steady.

 

Falling asleep on someone’s lap after meeting them for the first time? In a strange bunker, no less? Tae Yujun couldn’t help but feel a little incredulous.

 

So carefree. Meanwhile, he felt suffocated.

 

Every breath felt constricted to Tae Yujun. Not physically—but emotionally. Countless thoughts crashed over him like waves, leaving his mind dizzy. Yet, his body betrayed him, slowly growing drowsy just from leaning against the wall.

 

Though he sat on the cold floor, the faint warmth from his skin contact with Won Hyuk added to his drowsiness.

 

I’m so sleepy. Maybe I should rest a little, too.

 

Tae Yujun closed his eyes. A faint quiver of his long eyelashes signaled the lids shutting.

 

In his dreams, he strolled peacefully through the monastery. The weather was clear, and the sunlit leaves glowed in vibrant green.

 

On either side of him stood Peter, Antonio, and Sister Cecilia, all wearing bright, joyful smiles. Among them, Antonio’s warm, characteristic grin especially brought comfort to everyone around him.

 

‘John, don’t you think today feels like such a happy day?’

 

‘Why do you say that?’

 

‘Because everything feels so peaceful. Like a calm lake, don’t you think?’

 

Antonio broke into a wide smile, and Tae Yujun smiled along with him. As Antonio had said, the tranquility of the monastery was flawless. It was an utterly serene, perfectly peaceful daily life, as though painted in a picture.

 

‘But John.’

 

‘Yes?’

 

‘You killed me, didn’t you?’

 

Tae Yujun’s heart suddenly crashed. Trembling, he turned to look at Antonio. In an instant, Antonio had transformed into a grotesque monster, blood pouring from every hole in his body.

 

‘You killed me! You killed me!’

 

With a sickening gurgling sound, Antonio lunged at him. Just as Antonio’s teeth neared Tae Yujun’s neck, his eyes flew open.

 

“Gasp.”

 

Was that a dream or reality? He couldn’t tell. Yet the clammy, humid air and the distant, unfamiliar voices dragged him back to the present. Slowly, his senses began to return.

 

Ah, so it was just a dream.

 

It felt as though the dream had been real, and this was the nightmare. But no matter how many times he closed his eyes and opened them again, nothing changed. For a moment, Tae Yujun wondered if the entire space itself was weighed down by a deep depression. It felt overwhelmingly dark and heavy, as if not a single ray of hope was visible.

 

“Father, you’re awake?”

 

From his prone position, Won Hyuk’s figure entered his field of view. His hair was wet, as though he had just showered, and he wore a fresh shirt with his tie loosened.

 

“Maybe because you helped me sleep so well, Father, my headache’s completely gone. This doesn’t usually happen.”

 

Since his teenage years, headaches had been a persistent torment for Won Hyuk, haunting him even as an adult. His late mother had also suffered from agonizing headaches and had ultimately passed away due to a brain condition.

 

Concerned he might suffer the same fate as his mother, Won Hyuk often underwent CT scans. Yet each time, the doctors gave him the same explanation: ‘These are severe tension headaches caused by extreme stress. Please try to relax.’ But as someone running a company, how could he possibly afford to relax?

 

Therefore, he had no choice but to chew on Daantax like gum. Yet, oddly enough, today his head felt clearer than it would have after swallowing ten Daantax pills. All he had done was sleep next to Tae Yujun.

 

“I guess you got some deep sleep and shook off your fatigue.”

 

“You slept like a rock too, Father.”

 

“I was exhausted.”

 

“That makes sense. You must’ve been completely drained.”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“But your clothes, Father. They’re soaked with blood. You can’t keep wearing them.”

 

Won Hyuk pointed to the chest area of his sweatshirt. Only then did Tae Yujun let out a small sigh.

 

“The blood from the monster I shot—it’s soaked into this. You noticed?”

 

Won Hyuk traced a circle with his fingertip, highlighting the stained spot. Only then did Tae Yujun finally detect the metallic scent of blood, distinct from the musty air around him.

 

In truth, he had been pretending not to notice the revolting smell clinging to his body.

 

“…I should probably change.”

 

“The bathroom has running water. Just head out to the hallway and go left. You can clean up a bit or wash up, go ahead. There’s even some soap left, though it’s almost gone.”

 

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

 

“Do you have a towel?”

 

“Yeah, there’s one in my bag.”

 

“What about a toothbrush? If not, want to borrow mine?”

 

“That joke’s not funny.”

 

Tae Yujun rummaged through his bag, pulling out his toiletries, a toothbrush, and a towel. Grabbing a change of clothes, he stood, made his way through the crowd, and left the auditorium.

 

Following the hallway and turning left as Won Hyuk had described, he found a large bathroom. Tae Yujun walked to the sink and turned on the faucet. The bunker’s plumbing seemed intact, as water flowed out with decent pressure.

 

He removed his sweatshirt, stained with Antonio’s blood, and filled the sink with water. Submerging the garment, he watched as the blood began to seep out into the cold water. Tae Yujun bit his lip, scrubbing the shirt, even using the communal soap to work up the lather.

 

As the soap bubbles spread across the fabric, the bloodstains slowly but steadily began to fade.

 

“Haah….”

 

He soaked the clothes in water and let them sit for a moment. Slowly, the water turned cloudy, as if blood were draining from short ribs. The sheer amount of blood made him wonder if the clothes had truly absorbed this much. After some time, Tae Yujun lifted the sweatshirt from the water.

 

Splat. Water streamed down, and faint traces of blood dripped off. It seemed another round of soaping was necessary. Just as he reached for the soap again, Tae Yujun’s eyes met his reflection in the mirror.

 

“….”

 

An inexplicable, strange feeling washed over him. His face, hollow and pale after only a few days, bore eyes dulled by fatigue. The rigid muscles in his cheeks only deepened the unfamiliarity of the man staring back. Although the face was identical to his own, this man’s expression and appearance were entirely unlike the one he remembered just days ago.

 

Feeling like a criminal caught red-handed, Tae Yujun averted his gaze and grabbed the shirt’s collar, lathering it once more. Scrubbing forcefully, red foam bubbled up from the fabric.

 

He lingered at the sink for a while, scrubbing compulsively, as if erasing the stains could somehow wipe away the events of the previous night.

 

After a long, grueling effort, he finally managed to get the clothes clean. Wrapping them tightly to wring out the water, Tae Yujun scanned the bathroom. It had a handicap-accessible restroom with partitioned stalls and a cleaning hose extending into one. I guess others wash here too, he thought.

 

Tae Yujun stepped into one of the stalls and removed his damp shirt and pants. Turning on the water, he poured it over himself, starting from the crown of his head. The late autumn chill made washing with cold water nearly unbearable. His teeth chattered from the icy shock, but this wasn’t the time to search for warm water.

 

Using a small piece of soap, he hastily washed his hair and body before shutting off the water. Once he changed into clean clothes and returned to the auditorium, a significant amount of time had passed.

 

There, something was off. Everyone was standing in three lines, their faces strained with tension. Tae Yujun quickly approached Won Hyuk and asked,

 

“Why is the atmosphere like this?”

 

“They’re saying it’s distribution time.”

 

At the front of the three lines was a long table, piled with instant porridge, tuna cans, and packs of bottled water.

 

Isn’t this something for everyone to share? Why do they all look so uneasy?

 

Tae Yujun sensed that the atmosphere was far from normal. Moments later, a group of bald men appeared, bringing the answer he had been seeking.

 

“Group 1 gets a can of tuna, porridge, and a bottle of water each. Group 2 only gets porridge. Group 3 gets nothing.”

 

“What?” Tae Yujun couldn’t believe his ears. Groups? What did that even mean? And why weren’t the supplies being distributed equally?

 

It was absurd and infuriating. But what shocked him even more was that the three lines of people, each representing a group, showed no complaints or emotion. The group at the very end, presumably Group 3, was made up entirely of women and elderly people. They simply sighed quietly, saying nothing.

 

What kind of place is this? Tae Yujun let out a hollow laugh and then raised his hand high.

 

“I’m new here and don’t know the rules, but what’s the basis for dividing the groups?”

 

“Ah, a newcomer. Guess we’re a bit late on the explanation. Supplies are limited, so we can’t distribute them equally. That’s just the harsh reality.”

 

“I asked about the criteria.”

 

“So impatient. Each group is determined through an application process. If you want to join Group 1, prove you’re useful. If you’re average, you go to Group 2. If you’re a worthless piece of shit, you end up in Group 3. Hahaha!”

 

The bald man and his cronies laughed crudely. Tae Yujun’s fists trembled.

 

“You there.”

 

“Father!”

 

Won Hyuk stepped in front of Tae Yujun, blocking him as he was about to step forward.

 

“What are you trying to do?”

 

“I’m going to protest. Who gave them the right to classify and alienate people like this? This is exactly the kind of behavior the Lord despises most.”

 

“No, calm down. There are four of them. Do you think you can take them all on by yourself, father?”

 

“No, I’m not confident in that. But standing by and doing nothing wouldn’t be right.”

 

Won Hyuk crossed his arms, frowning slightly.

 

“Hmm. Father, how about this? Let’s make a deal.”

 

“A deal?”

 

“I’ll change their minds. But in return, father, you’ll do something for me.”

 

“What…? What are you talking about?”

 

“Just watch.”