ZFS Chapter 6

Tae Yujun instinctively pulled back, but there was nowhere to escape within the confines of the car. The man leaning over him, almost as if about to pin him down. Then he reached out and pulled the seatbelt across, fastening it. Click. After confirming the belt was securely in place, Won Hyuk gave a faint smile.

 

“Safety first.”

 

“I could have done it myself, you know.”

 

“Oh, right. I didn’t realize.”

 

Feigning ignorance, Won Hyuk dismissed his comment. Tae Yujun shot him a glare, but it seemed Won Hyuk didn’t care in the slightest.

 

‘You’re just doing this to mess with me.’

 

Grumbling internally, Tae Yujun turned his head toward the window. Eventually, the vehicle began to move slowly.

 

Tae Yujun cast a final glance at the seminary, a place he might never return to again. The building, as expected, was wrapped in deep silence, as though it were sinking into the darkness. It was where Tae Yujun had spent several years, enduring rigorous training in hopes of becoming a priest someday. In one corner of the grounds was an orphanage, and his gaze naturally drifted to its building.

 

This was where Tae Yujun had spent his childhood—at the orphanage attached to the monastery. With his lovely face and gentle demeanor, he had been successfully adopted into a wealthy and cultured family, one without children. The couple, deeply religious to the point of fervor, had specifically chosen to adopt from the monastery’s orphanage.

 

For years, they had been tormented by the complex of being childless, hoping Tae Yujun would be the perfect, doll-like child to fill that void. They observed and interfered with his every action, from the moment he woke up until he went to bed. They wanted every aspect of his life—his friendships, his studies—to be flawless.

 

Even so, Tae Yujun had been happy to have parents. He proudly told himself he now had a family. Though he was aware of how different he was from his peers, he quietly obeyed everything his parents said, hoping to earn their love.

 

But that fragile happiness shattered as easily as a sun-dried ceramic.

 

When Tae Yujun turned fifteen, his adoptive parents began to regard him as a cursed child. They demanded he eat only food they approved of. Meals had to have the perfect balance of nutrients, and the flavors had to be mild—anything else was indulgent, the kind of thing only depraved people would eat.

 

With such carefully curated meals on the table, it was no surprise they failed to appeal to a middle schooler’s palate. Tae Yujun, unable to forget the taste of instant ramen he once had at a friend’s house, secretly cooked some for himself in the kitchen.

 

Hungry, he tore open the ramen packet, wishing the water would boil faster. In his mind, he pictured the water bubbling and boiling.

 

But something strange happened. From the pot Tae Yujun had just placed, the sound of boiling water echoed. But just moments ago, it had been cold water, hadn’t it? Tae Yujun was stunned. The power button was off. A chill ran down his spine. What is this?

 

After catching his breath, Tae Yujun poured out the boiling water. Trying to calm himself, he refilled the pot with fresh water and set it back on the induction stove. Once more, he had the same thought. The result was the same. The water began boiling almost instantly.

 

It was at that moment that Tae Yujun realized, for the first time, that he had some kind of extraordinary power. He shuddered. In a life where he’d always felt like a puppet, their doll, unable to control anything, for the first time, he had discovered something he could control. Though he couldn’t understand the cause, the fact that he possessed this strange, special ability thrilled him.

 

Could this work on other things too? Fear and curiosity wrestled within him, but curiosity won. Yujun began experimenting with various objects and environments. He found he could control the temperature of water and even extinguish flames simply by thinking about it. At one point, he secretly obtained a lighter and tested his abilities in the backyard.

 

As he watched a small flame grow larger, he imagined it going out—and, as if by magic, it extinguished. Emboldened, he imagined holding the lighter and lifting it into the air. Then, to his surprise, the lighter slowly rose. Yujun was so startled that he nearly fell over where he sat.

 

Having an ability no one else had filled him with awe and fear, but it was also electrifying. It made him feel special—like someone unique. And he wanted to know how far his abilities could go.

 

That day, Tae Yujun levitated a notebook in mid-air and reversed spilled water back into a cup. Just then, his foster mother opened the door and entered, screaming in horror. Yujun panicked and tried to explain, but his foster mother shrieked hysterically.

 

“It’s the power of the devil!”

 

“W-Wait, Mother… that’s not it.”

 

“There is an evil power in this child. This child is a child of the devil!”

 

His foster parents scolded him, berated him, and feared him all at once. They insisted that the devil’s power had taken root in him and forced him to pray for hours on end without moving. They prohibited him from going outside, let alone attending school. Instead, he was confined to his room, watched around the clock, crying and praying all day.

 

Tae Yujun felt trapped. He believed his abilities were something special, but in his foster parents’ eyes, they were nothing more than an evil force that needed to be eradicated.

 

For years, the adolescent boy lived under their tight control and repression. Yet, on rare occasions, when he managed to escape their watchful eyes, he tested his abilities. Watching objects float freely in the air gave him a small sense of comfort, as if proving to himself that he truly was someone special.

 

Then, one morning, Tae Yujun confirmed that his adoptive parents were still asleep and attempted to levitate objects in his room. However, nothing happened. The powers he had possessed until the previous night were gone, vanishing just like that.

 

His body felt utterly drained. Though he had heard countless accusations that his abilities were evil or a devil’s trick, those powers had always been an inseparable part of him. Yet, they hadn’t been enough to achieve anything, and now that they were gone, Tae Yujun had lost far more than just that.

 

The trust and love within his family had long been shattered. His adoptive parents were the kind who cared deeply about what others thought of them. That’s why they maintained the adoption only until he came of age. On the day he reached adulthood, they used the pretext of him becoming independent to kick him out of the house.

 

As a result, even after returning to the monastery, Tae Yujun couldn’t regain his focus and wandered aimlessly. The person who helped him realign himself was Dr. Jang Junsik, his Catholic godfather and a benefactor who had supported the children at the orphanage. Even after Tae Yujun was adopted, Dr. Jang kept in touch and continued to show him kindness whenever they met at the church.

 

Then came the shocking news that his adoption had been terminated. Alarmed, Dr. Jang did everything he could to find Tae Yujun, who was lost and wandering the streets. At the time, Tae Yujun thought he would be scolded harshly or berated, just as his adoptive parents had done. But Dr. Jang, without a word, took off his coat and gave it to him, asking if he was cold or had caught a cold.

 

The feeling was beyond description. Knowing that someone in this world cared about him, that there was someone who poured unconditional trust and love into him, made Tae Yujun open his heart, which had been closed off from the world, feeling so alone.

 

In the snowy streets, Tae Yujun broke down in tears, and was able to return to the monastery. Humbly, he began to wash away the pains of his past and resolved to walk the path of priesthood.

 

So, Dr. Jang became more than a father to Tae Yujun—no, he was someone far greater. Until Tae Yujun could confirm Dr. Jang’s safety, living felt meaningless.

 

The truck moved slowly, creeping stealthily through the dark streets like a shadow. As it left the fork in the road and entered the main road, Tae Yujun felt a sense of unease. Even for nighttime, the city was far too dark. Not a single lit signboard could be seen. All that remained was a forest of pitch-black buildings.

 

The lights were turned off everywhere, whether in apartments or commercial buildings. Tae Yujun could easily guess why. People likely feared that even a sliver of light might attract zombies. In such fear, they were probably trembling in the darkness right now, paralyzed.

 

The traffic lights were broken, and the CCTV cameras scattered along the streets served no purpose. And by the looks of it, speeding would surely not result in a ticket.

 

The streets of the city were unnervingly silent, with no moving cars or people around. Evidence of car crashes littered the roads. Vehicles with shattered windows sat abandoned, with not a single car in motion.

 

On the vast roads of Myeongdong and Euljiro, this lone sweet potato truck was the only vehicle moving. The complete absence of any signs of life left Tae Yujun with a chilling sense of foreboding, as though he were crossing a desolate ruin, devoid of survivors.

 

Then, suddenly, he covered his mouth. Upon closer inspection, piles of corpses were scattered along the roads. Emaciated zombies with severely damaged bodies lay discarded like trash. They were no longer moving.

 

Antonio died like that. One could say it was because of him. Won Hyuk had said that Antonio was no longer a human but a zombie. Even so, it was undeniable that he had been Antonio.

 

Tae Yujun’s thoughts tangled. Had Antonio’s soul gone to heaven or hell?

 

…had he passed on as a child of God?

 

And the last question was directed squarely at God.

 

Lord, what is Your will? Are You testing us? Even so, I will pray earnestly. Please save us from this hell.

 

---

 

The truck, which had been running for quite some time, came to a halt.

 

“It says entry to Yeouido is prohibited.”

 

Won Hyuk raised his hand, pointing at the traffic status board suspended in the air. The electronic display, marred by cracks, showed the date and current time in bold red letters, alongside the message,

“Entry to Yeouido is prohibited.

Full restriction in effect.

Crisis Alert Level 3.

Please take refuge in the nearest bunker.”

 

“You’re right. What’s going on?”

 

“I’ll keep going for now. We’ll see.”

 

Ignoring the warning, the two pressed on. Soon, they reached Mapo Bridge, one of the access points to Yeouido. However, the bridge’s entrance was completely blocked by multiple layers of barricades. The stacked metal structures only emphasized how tightly the passage had been sealed.

 

“I’ll check the news.”

 

Feeling uneasy, Tae Yujun pulled out his phone and searched for updates on traffic-related news.

 

[As of 10 PM today, movement between Gangbuk and Gangnam is restricted. Entry to Yeouido and Jamsil from Gangbuk is prohibited, and the opposite direction is also under road restrictions. From now on, all movement across Han River bridges is completely prohibited.]

 

“Hey, it’s true. They’re shutting down the roads. It says we can’t use the Han River bridges, which means Yeouido is completely blocked off too.”

 

“What? Then how are we supposed to get there?”

 

“There’s more. At 10 PM, the crisis alert was raised from Level 2 to Level 3—the highest level. Military, police, and fire services are unavailable. Everyone must remain indoors until further notice from the government. Those outdoors are advised to take shelter in bunkers and wait for rescue teams.”

 

As Tae Yujun recited the news, Won Hyuk clicked his tongue in frustration.

 

“It doesn’t look like there’s any way through. At least for now.”

 

“Yeah. What are we going to do…?”

 

A brief sense of helplessness overtook them. They had assumed that simply reaching Yeouido would resolve the issue, but now even the route itself was completely barricaded. It was something they had not expected.

 

Still, Tae Yujun’s instincts told him one thing with certainty—they absolutely had to cross Mapo Bridge and get to Yeouido. Without unlocking the doors to Dr. Jang’s research lab there, the problem would never be solved. No matter what, they had to find a way.

 

They sank deep into thought for a long time. For now, they had a single objective—crossing Mapo Bridge.