Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 112.7: Faith (7)

"How can you shoot so accurately from that far?"

Back in school, there was a one-kilometer sniping course.

I topped almost every subject, but sniping was never my strong suit.

Unfortunately, I had to concede the top spot in this area to Lee Sang-hoon, and that fact nagged at me for a long time.

Later, when Kim Daram became a member of my team, I asked her the secret to sniping.

"You don’t just rely on instinct. As we learned in school, the Earth is constantly rotating, its magnetic field affects everything, and the wind shifts according to these forces."

"How do you measure the wind?"

I wasn’t asking about the wind at my shooting position.

That was something a spotter could gauge, or I could roughly estimate and factor into my calculations.

The problem was that the wind didn’t blow in a single direction, and countless variables affected its path—far too many for a human brain to calculate.

I could have a westward wind at my position, but the target could be facing an eastward gust.

That was unknowable.

The snipers who set world records for long-range kills used heavy-caliber rounds to mitigate such variables.

It was why the standard sniper rifle round wasn’t the commonly used 5.56mm but rather something in the 7.62mm range—a compromise with the immense force of nature itself.

It wasn’t an issue for me, as I mainly used 5.56mm rounds, and aside from shotguns, I rarely needed anything else.

But there would inevitably come a moment when I’d have to take a long-range shot with a standard rifle.

"Hints are all around you."

Kim Daram had responded to my question with a confident yet kind smile—a smile that I had since lost.

"If your target is wearing clothes, watch how they flutter. If there are trees nearby, use them as reference points. Don’t just look at the target—observe everything around them. That’s how you’ll understand the wind."

If she had lived her life according to her own advice, perhaps our relationship wouldn’t have fractured the way it did.

But now, all that remained was the cold skeleton of knowledge.

Standing at the fragile edge of that structure, I took a deep breath, held it, and set my sights on the target.

A boy.

Mid-teens.

Thin, almost skeletal.

He blinked intermittently, possibly a nervous tic, but his body remained still.

That was all I needed to know about him.

I adjusted my aim slightly away from his temple.

"I know you're hiding there!"

One of the cultists stepped forward, holding a megaphone, and shouted toward Defender’s position.

"You’ll die no matter what. You can’t escape from us. Surely you’ve heard of the sect’s trackers—our Ho-beop? You must have. Some of your own soldiers have joined us, whispering our knowledge into your ears through those pitiful radio broadcasts you cling to."

I examined the cultists’ armaments.

A few had firearms, but most carried no guns.

Not no weapons, just no firearms.

Many of them were armed with crude spears, machetes, or sickles.

That only reinforced my suspicion—they were Awakened.

I waited for the perfect moment.

"If you surrender now, I swear on our founder’s name to grant you a painless death. We’ll offer you one last good meal, some alcohol, and if you wish, drugs and women. No torture. We’ll even provide a special anesthetic before execution to ensure you feel no pain."

The cultist with the megaphone took a step forward.

Bang!

A shot with no hesitation.

The gunshot echoed through the night.

At the same time—

Boom!

A shockwave erupted.

A cultist standing behind the speaker had generated it.

My bullet vanished into an invisible rift—a distortion in space, like a black hole leading to a wormhole.

The next thing I knew, the bullet emerged from the rift and grazed past my temple.

"Ambush!"

One of the cultists screamed.

"They're Awakened."

I spoke calmly.

And fired again.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three timed shots.

All warning shots.

Not even intimidation—just probing.

This was where humans differed from monsters.

Monsters only deployed their repulsion fields when bullets were about to hit them, but humans—fearful creatures—activated them at the mere sound of gunfire.

Boom!

Two more Awakened cultists revealed themselves.

That was all they did—reveal themselves.

"Begin suppression fire."

I ordered Ha Tae-hoon and Cheon Young-jae.

The two hunters began their barrage.

Bullets tore through the night sky, not even qualifying as intimidation shots, yet every gunshot triggered the cultists’ shockwaves.

"Drone."

I signaled Da-jeong, who was sitting calmly in the back with her controller.

She nodded and activated our secret weapon—

Whiiiiiiir—

A robotic vacuum cleaner.

For some reason, she had brought a robot vacuum.

And it had a purpose.

Strapped to it was a bundle of grenades.

"Unlike regular drones, this one operates on primitive pre-set coordinates. Simple means less risk. Once the coordinates are set, we cut the wireless connection—no hacking, no signal interception."

There was no reason to be intimidated just because they were Awakened.

In the end, it was still a fight between humans.

And since we had maneuvered them into a disadvantageous battlefield, more than half the victory was already ours.

Of course, if they had monsters like Kang Han-min or Na Hye-in among them, it would be a different story—but those were unavoidable risks.

A mortar-mounted drone flew overhead.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

As the robot vacuum advanced toward the enemy, the drone provided additional suppression from above.

The cultists, who had been loosely focused on Defender's hiding spot, now had to form a tight formation near their vehicles.

I watched patiently, waiting for their guide to move away from them.

"Who are you?! Who dares to bare their fangs at us? Are you under Kim Byung-cheol? Do you even know what became of him?"

The cultist with the megaphone screamed in my direction.

I didn’t answer.

Only the drone, buzzing overhead, responded.

Bang! Tatatatatat!

A cultist opened fire at the drone.

One of his comrades stopped him and looked up—

Boom!

Another shockwave.

At the same time, something invisible and electric rippled through the air.

Fzzzt!

The drone plummeted.

San-ta (散打).

An anti-drone pulse.

One of the symbolic powers that had doomed China, once the global leader in drone warfare.

China had been the first to discover it.

China had given it a name.

"Defender."

I spoke into the comms.

"Can you run back?"

"On it."

Defender bolted, sprinting toward the tall sorghum fields behind him.

"Run!"

A boy's voice shouted.

"Run, now!"

The cultists ignored him.

They seemed more annoyed by him than anything.

"Shut up!"

Tensions were at their peak.

At any moment, another bullet could fly, or another drone could drop.

"That way!"

The boy kept shouting, trying to earn some favor in a desperate bid for survival.

His struggle caused a small fracture among the cultists.

Some moved toward Defender’s direction, while others remained near the vehicles.

The boy was caught in the middle.

"Suppression fire. Three seconds."

Three.

Two.

One.

Bang! Tattattattat!

Ha Tae-hoon and Cheon Young-jae unleashed their barrage.

Each time—

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Shockwaves rippled outward.

But beyond their reach was an unprotected gap.

Alone, the boy continued yelling about Defender’s position.

I pulled the trigger.

Bang!

Not a warning shot.

Not intimidation.

The bullet struck the boy’s heart.

He collapsed like a withered tree.

Motionless.

"Target neutralized."

I signaled Da-jeong.

The robot vacuum had already reached the vehicles.

She pressed the button.

BOOM!!!

A violent explosion sent the cars flying.

The cultists, seeing the chaos, instinctively clustered together and began a coordinated retreat.

That was when I realized—

This Awakened faction was no joke.

They weren’t just zealots.

They were a disciplined, structured organization.

I watched them withdraw and spoke into the comms.

"Mission complete. Retrieve Hong Jung-ho and return to base."

Da-jeong gave me a sidelong glance.

"What about Skelton?"

She pointed at the motorcycle lying abandoned in the grass.

"We’re taking it, of course."

There was no need for words between us.

VROOOOOOOM—

The buggy jolted as it raced over the rugged terrain, the engine's roar blending with the night wind.

Behind us, the cultists were piling into the remaining operational vehicles, preparing to withdraw from the battlefield.

What remained at the scene was a cooling corpse and a silent young girl standing beside it.

She stared at the dead boy without a flicker of emotion, her expression as empty as if all her feelings had long since run dry.

For a moment, I hesitated.

"..."

A fleeting temptation washed over me.

I was a nihilist who wanted to survive.

But I wasn’t heartless enough to kill someone completely unnecessary.

Even Defender had felt uneasy about his actions—what right did I have to entertain such thoughts?

The girl suddenly turned her head, looking north.

Monsters were coming.

She took a step toward the cultists' vehicle.

None of them called for her, reached out to her, or even acknowledged her presence.

Yet, without hesitation, she found her place among them, climbing into the car as if she had always belonged there.

I waited, hidden in the tall grass, until their vehicles finally pulled away.

If they were true believers, they should have driven straight toward the horde of monsters, welcoming their so-called "gods" with open arms.

Instead, the vehicles turned southeast, speeding away from the approaching horde.

Despite all their grand proclamations, they fled from the monsters like frightened prey.

Hypocrites.

And yet, amidst their contradictory retreat, a pair of eyes lingered on me.

From the back window of one of the vehicles, the girl watched me.

I couldn’t tell from this distance whether it was real or a figment of my conscience, whether it was judgment or regret.

Only time would answer that question.

*

By the time we neared our base, the sun had begun to rise, casting a cold glow over the abandoned yet still-green landscape.

"Man, that was satisfying."

Cheon Young-jae was the one talking the most over comms.

"I don’t think we’ve ever handled something this cleanly, not in China or Korea. But you know, every time I work with you, Park, things just... get done. At first, when you said we were leaving Jung-ho behind, I was like—wait, is this guy seriously ditching my buddy? But damn, you pulled through."

Despite his cheerful demeanor, he carried a lot of baggage.

Ha Tae-hoon had hinted at it before—Cheon Young-jae had gone through some serious losses /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ and built walls around his heart that weren’t easy to see.

I carried two radios—

One for communication with Cheon Young-jae and Ha Tae-hoon, and another custom-made military comm unit, modified by Defender.

While the first buzzed with conversation, I spoke into the second.

"What happened to Kim Daram?"

No matter how much of a pain in the ass she was, she was still the junior I once trusted most.

She was the first one who had come looking for me when I was isolated, after all.

And I had even given her a million won as a wedding gift.

Of course, I was curious.

"Kim Daram?"

Defender snorted at the name.

There was no trace of respect or sympathy in his reaction.

"That woman? She’s the kind of person who will survive anywhere, no matter what. Watching her made me realize—no matter how fucked up the world gets, she’ll still be out there, dragging her husband and fat-ass kids along with her."

"That’s... a problem."

"What, you want her dead?"

"No, but..."

The last human left standing—

It sure as hell shouldn’t be Kim Daram just because she was stubborn enough to outlive everyone else.

"I have to live longer than her."

"Now that’s something Skelton would say."

Defender grinned, waving at me from his seat on the buggy’s roll cage.

His handsome face was still as friendly and open as ever.

"So, any women in your life?"

Before I could answer, his sister cut in.

"Of course he has. Oh my God, I was so disappointed."

"Why? What happened?"

"Ugh. I thought my brother—I mean, Jung-ho ham—was a real alpha male. You know, the type who shoves clingy women aside like, ‘Get lost, you bitch!’"

"That’s literally me, though."

"No, you should’ve seen him. He turned into a total buffalo, simping over some girl who wasn’t even that pretty!"

"The fuck?!"

"I swear, you have to see it for yourself. That was the day I finally understood what cosmic horror really meant."

Defender cut her off, flustered.

"Shut up."

Damn. He really acts like a kid when he's on the defensive.

Still, our short and chaotic journey was over.

There were still countless problems ahead, but for now, I wouldn’t think about them.

Beyond the vast, empty plains, my territory stood, small but sturdy.

I switched radio frequencies to the shared channel.

"Welcome home."

Riding alongside my buggy, Da-jeong and Defender waved back.

In their gazes, I felt trust.

Not the blind faith of the cultists.

But real trust—the kind that comes from surviving together.

"Take care of us, Skelton."

"We’re finally one team now!"

Defender and his sister had joined us.