I don’t agree with the opinion that says you should never lose your sense of humor even in the worst situations.

Humor only means something if it’s actually funny—how many people in the world can effortlessly deliver genuinely funny jokes?

Unfunny humor only leads to greater despair.

Still, I think even bad jokes are better than clutching your head and whining.

Let’s think positively.

At least one possibility has opened up.

The possibility that the closer I get to the last of humanity, the more I’ll get to see the scene where the Crack disappears.

I don’t agree with Kang Han-min’s method, but in certain specific circumstances, it has its own internal logic.

He sees things I can’t, feels things I don’t understand.

His experiences and knowledge inside the Crack are vastly superior to mine.

I might have some incomprehensible knowledge gained from defeating Nemesis-types, but using that alone to deny the years of experience and accumulated knowledge Kang Han-min has built would be an overly convenient judgment.

In the end, as always, time will tell.

What’s been given to me, just one human being, is an extremely practical choice.

Return to the shelter—or go back to Seoul.

There’s also the option of going back into the Crack.

In other words, I could confront Kang Han-min again and swing my axe.

Of course, I’ve always avoided low-probability approaches when there was another way.

I won’t go into the Crack.

Which leaves me with two choices: Seoul, or my sweet home.

Returning to Seoul—technically the area around Hanam City—means risking my life.

Even back when I left Seoul, the Defender was already predicting a civil war.

Seoul has probably turned into a sea of fire by now.

The fortunate thing is that the person who pulled me out of the Crack is someone who holds goodwill toward me.

There’s a scrap of paper dangling from my upper pocket, within my field of vision.

[ There’s an emergency shelter here. Please survive for a long time.

– From your old friend.

P.S. It might be a little messed upㅠㅠ but I know you’ll make it work! ;) ]

It’s Na Hye-in’s handwriting.

She was the one who brought me here.

“Chik!”

Including my partner, of course.

The way he’s nosing around and nipping at me—he must be hungry.

I checked my backpack.

Even before opening it, I could tell someone had already opened it.

Doesn’t seem like Na Hye-in did it—looks like someone else.

I opened the bag.

Sure enough, some items were missing.

Food, water, a few snacks, some basic medical supplies.

But seriously, why steal someone else’s underwear?

Thankfully, they didn’t strip me of the red underwear I was wearing, and the rest of the stolen goods weren’t that much anyway.

Not that there was much left, since I’d already used up almost everything inside the Crack.

Most likely, whoever Na Hye-in assigned to bring me here helped themselves to a few things as a kind of travel fee.

Well, they need to eat too, I guess.

Still, even those thief friends didn’t touch the nutrition bars.

I gave one to John Nae-non and ate one myself while taking a break.

They taste awful, but they’re packed full of essential amino acids and scientifically formulated nutrients, courtesy of the South Korean government.

While chewing the disgusting bar, I checked the location of the shelter Na Hye-in mentioned.

Somewhere near Goyang City.

Supposedly under a golf course.

That damn golf course.

Well, I guess it’s hard not to build one—every pretty patch of countryside was bulldozed for golf courses back in the day.

It’s close by, but I don’t plan to stop there yet.

I rechecked my gear and condition, then surveyed the area.

Still around the Crack.

Now and then, lights flickered in the dimming twilight.

Yuyang-seo’s subordinates?

Nothing good would come from running into those guys.

I didn’t see anyone with the naked eye, but I looked out over the abandoned Paju Killzone and pulled out the national-issue K-Walkie-Talkie.

Chzzzt—chzzzzt—

It didn’t work.

Not completely broken, but seems like one component’s malfunctioning.

No point in forcing it and making it worse.

This might be my last walkie-talkie.

“······.”

For now, I’ll head toward Seoul.

My comrades are there.

I can meet them, hear what’s going on, and decide what to do next.

But the closer I got to Seoul, the more ominous the atmosphere became.

Boom! Boom!

Gunfire and explosions.

The occasional rocket’s roar echoed overhead like a ghostly scream blackening the southern sky.

I heard water.

Following the sound, I found a stream.

Crystal clear, flowing water.

Class 1 water.

But that doesn’t mean it’s safe.

Even Class 1 water hides harmful microbes and parasite spores.

On top of that, although water from the erosion zone shows no abnormalities in nutrient analysis, we’ve learned from experience that everything in the erosion zone messes with our bodies.

And the Crack’s toxicity can’t even be filtered out.

Still, better than dying of thirst.

I’d like to distill it, but there’s a long road ahead.

I drank a few sips, shared some with John Nae-non, and filled my canteen.

I regretted not bringing my phone, but there was nothing I could do.

Before meeting Kang Han-min, I’d half-resigned myself to dying anyway.

Night fell.

I was alert, but still took a caffeine pill.

Night hiking is dangerous.

Especially when climbing mountains in complete darkness—it’s a recipe for accidents.

Using the moonlight and starlight filtering through the thick leaves as my guide, I stepped carefully and pressed on toward Seoul.

It struck me again how densely urbanized the Seoul metropolitan area is.

I found a road—one built before the war.

Weeds had grown in patches, and debris was scattered here and there, suggesting I hadn’t used this route before.

It’s an abandoned road post-war.

Still, far better than dirt paths—faster and easier to walk.

For someone like me, carrying a heavy load, a solid road is like running on a 16-lane expressway.

It was a cloud-heavy early autumn night, so it was very dark, but I still didn’t turn on a light.

I let my eyes adjust and relied on my senses to follow the winding path.

I remembered an old bicycle I used to ride.

It was a good one.

But I stopped riding once life got better.

It’s probably still tucked away safely inside my shelter.

The artillery fire from the south stopped.

But then—

Bang----!

A gunshot rang out.

That one final, dying sound reminded me of the war’s early days.

Of the exaggerated fear that comes from living through an era you’ve never experienced before.

I walked quietly along the road.

Most of the surrounding land was abandoned rice fields, though some patches showed signs of recent cultivation.

Probably areas the Corps faction maintained while stationed in Paju.

Every now and then along the road were gas stations, restaurants—especially Chinese takeout joints—junkyards, warehouses, and adult shops, now all in ruins.

The grayish-white zone faded the farther south I went, until eventually a road sign came into view.

Hoping it might show the exact distance to Seoul, I narrowed my eyes and read it.

[ Area with Frequent Traffic Accidents ]

“Hm.”

Well, it does look like a spot with lots of accidents.

Sharp curve, and that metal sign was riddled with bullet holes.

Bang------!

A gunshot echoed again—closer than before.

I couldn’t be exact, but based on the sound, the origin seemed about 3km away?

I wanted to stay on the road, but I also didn’t want to die a meaningless death, so I took a side path onto the levee of an abandoned farm.

The grass had grown taller than a person.

Doing this at night seemed stupid, but I was proven right not long after.

Bang! Ratatatat!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A fierce firefight erupted nearby.

It didn’t seem like a military engagement—more like a skirmish between small groups.

Not hand-to-hand either—looked like it was happening within 500 meters.

That’s how most firefights played out between survivor groups in the early days of the war.

Unless you’re a raider or launching a surprise attack, human groups always treat each other with caution, and cautious groups tend to engage with precision.

The side with the better shooter and better weapons wins.

Anyway, personal impressions aside, you don’t see small-scale skirmishes like this anymore since New Seoul formed.

Bang! Bang!

I took a wide detour around the sound of gunfire and kept heading in the direction of Seoul.

Soon, the ruined cityscape of Paju came into view.

Unless you have hard intel, entering the city is a shortcut to death.

The entire city is one big ambush zone.

Especially the countless apartment complexes—they’re perfect as fortresses, outposts, and bases.

No wonder Koreans were obsessed with apartments.

Incidentally, Paju City produced a surprisingly high number of regular Awakened relative to its population.

If the war had remained limited and the evacuation to Jeju had been smoother, Paju might have become the go-to school district for every Korean parent obsessed with Awakened education.

Thanks to Paju, I now knew my exact location and could replan my route.

I’d bypass the highway, follow the national road, then cross a river via an intact bridge to get closer to Seoul.

There was a deserted apartment complex along the way, but the darkness of night would shield me from view.

Step—step— 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

I walked alone through the still gray-white wasteland.

A lot of thoughts crossed my mind, most of them dark.

Well, that’s only natural.

I’d just faced something truly horrifying.

It’d be stranger not to feel depressed.

Still, it wasn’t the worst-case scenario.

At least Kang Han-min isn’t in bed with the Crack.

That alone makes a big difference.

That’s how the world is.

Some things go your way, but most don’t.

In this preordained catastrophe, what should I do?

How should I live?

Should I revisit my original goal—to find the last of humanity?

It’s a very tempting option.

I wonder what happened to Woo Min-hee.

I never got to tell her what I promised.

I meant to, but Kang Han-min turned so utterly ridiculous I missed the chance.

Well, let’s get to Seoul first.

I’ll think more when I’m there.

So I walked through the darkness.

Boom! Boom!

More artillery.

It flashed like lightning in the south.

The ominous feeling I’d had earlier deepened.

Near the foot of Mount Bukhan, I finally spotted people.

Three tents were pitched around a truck armored with metal plates—looked like an electric vehicle. Two armed men stood guard.

Avoiding people in chaotic times is just common sense.

I took a rougher path to avoid them and continued south, but it might not have been the best decision.

Every pass, every chokepoint—some survivor group had set up camp and was keeping watch.

That, paired with all the gunfire I’d been hearing, only made my gut feeling worse.

Something definitely happened in Seoul.

These were refugees fleeing from there.

Then, I noticed something.

A stench drifting to my nose for a while now.

Swish—

I parted the grass and looked down.

“······.”

A corpse.

Stripped naked and tossed carelessly in the undergrowth.

One had its mouth forced open unnaturally wide, probably because they took the gold tooth.

I slowly backed away and thought,

Let’s postpone going to Seoul.

First, I should accept Na Hye-in’s gift.

It’s nearby, and far less dangerous.

If it’s the shelter Na Hye-in arranged, it’s probably a VIP government-grade bunker.

I should be able to secure decent supplies, food, and communication devices.

Maybe—just maybe—even take a warm shower.

I retraced my steps and headed to the new destination.

Still breathless, exhausted, and plagued by the muscle aches I utterly hate, but at least I wasn’t getting shot or running into hostile people.

I arrived just as first light crept across the eastern sky.

I paused to catch my breath and scanned my surroundings.

[ Urban Lakefield C.C. ]

The name on the rusted, grimy sign matched the memo Na Hye-in had left.

More a jungle than a golf course now, the entrance was marked by a single dead tree.

“······.”

Someone’s there.

Leaning against the tree, sitting still with a hand over their belly.

They look injured.

I don’t see a weapon—but I should stay alert.

Scanned the area.

A classic bait trick.

Leave a wounded person in plain sight, wait for someone to approach, then ambush and rob them.

The Defender used to do similar things in the early days.

I should be able to contact the Defender now.

The bunker is right in front of me.

Time isn’t on my side.

The sky’s getting brighter.

Even so, I thoroughly checked for an ambush.

My conclusion: none.

The man really seemed to be alone, slumped against the tree, gasping his final breaths.

Looking closer, his guts were spilling out from his abdomen, only held back by his hand.

“······.”

I slowly approached him.

The breaking dawn lit up his face.

Mid-twenties? Maybe even younger—barely out of adolescence.

His face was covered in excessive tattoos, suggesting he’d been in a raider gang for a long time.

I figured I could ask him a few things.

But that thought vanished when I got within about 20 meters.

His eyes were strange.

Glinting with madness.

Was he on drugs?

I kept my distance and watched.

He let out a hollow laugh and shouted at me.

“Why’d you stop coming?”

I stayed silent.

I made up my mind.

Ignore him.

Just head into the golf course.

He’s going to die anyway.

His bloodless, pale face and heavy eyelids—even while high—made it clear his short life was nearing its end.

I gave him a wide berth and headed toward the jungle.

“Hey! Where you going, you bastard! Huh?!”

Every time he spoke, his guts threatened to spill out, but he wouldn’t shut up.

“You son of a bitch. You think you’re—”

Suddenly, he laughed loudly.

“Hey! Hey! I’ve got drugs! The good shit! Top shelf! Just a whiff and you’re flying!”

I stopped.

Looked back and asked in a low voice,

“Want me to kill you?”

In other words, want me to end your pain.

He grinned wide.

Still clutching his stomach, he staggered to his feet.

He still had that much strength?

Then he suddenly pulled his hand away and flung his arms open as he rushed at me.

“Hug me.”

As his intestines spilled out.

Bang!

I didn’t shoot out of hatred or mercy.

There was a grenade in the hand that had been holding in his guts.

Boom!

And the safety pin had been pulled.

I silently watched his flesh scatter, then turned around.

“······.”

I don’t think I need to hear # Nоvеlight # what’s happening in Seoul anymore.

Let’s go find my comrades.

The bunker is close.