Chapter 40

30. Golf (2)

My bunker is a carefully chosen location after surveying numerous areas across the country.

The main bunker is situated on a hill that is more of a hillock, but the back part, which includes a valley, forms a steep slope almost like a cliff, while the opposite side, which is a gentle hill, appears to have a mild slope but is actually cluttered with small mounds that obstruct the view.

It’s not exactly a good defensive position, but it’s the optimal terrain for deception.

The hill provides a good vantage point, which is an added bonus.

In short, I prioritized secrecy and reconnaissance over defense.

It was only natural that the people Joo Sung-yong brought did not approach this area.

At first glance, there’s nothing interesting to see, so it’s no wonder they weren’t intrigued.

They focused their search around the U.S. military base with the airport and spread out to the west and south.

A day passed.

The people set up tents and made fires.

There wasn’t much food, but they seemed happy because there was plenty of wood to burn, unlike in Seoul.

However, the temperature dropped to minus 18 degrees Celsius overnight.

The next day, they searched the village.

A group of two or three middle-aged women wandered around my area but found nothing.

They loitered around the entrance to the dummy bunker, but it was blocked with dirt and rocks.

To find the entrance, they would have to dig with shovels, but the cold, sharp wind that blew over the hill drove them away from my territory.

“Hey, is this a grave? Why does it feel so eerie? Why is the wind so strong?”

This was the impression of one of the women, heard through the listening device.

Another day passed.

The people Joo Sung-yong brought were completely off the mark this time.

Not only did they not find my territory, but they started moving into the vast rice fields and hills to the east.

Coincidentally, Joo Sung-yong’s truck returned to the golf course that day.

The people began to complain and grumble.

I couldn’t hear their voices, but I could guess what they were saying.

It seemed they were requesting to stop the meaningless mission.

The speaker attached to Joo Sung-yong’s truck blared loudly.

“Calm down, citizens. I will bring buses soon. Please wait a little longer. Warm homes and food are waiting for you!”

Joo Sung-yong’s truck left the scene, and the light armored vehicle that had been standing in the middle of the golf course roared away.

All that was left were about 100 ordinary people he had brought.

I still didn’t understand Joo Sung-yong’s intentions.

Why did he release nearly a hundred people?

Why did he go to such great lengths to catch just one person?

Paranoia might be one reason, but there must be others.

Four days passed.

The buses never came, and there was no radio contact.

Joo Sung-yong and his group had vanished.

The people, who had been waiting in their flimsy tents by the thin fire, slowly and surely realized their fate.

They had been abandoned.

Joo Sung-yong had brought them here for a change of scenery and then left them in the wilderness.

In the frozen ground, the people looked at each other, unsure of what to do.

*

Their initial reaction was anger.

“Yaaaaaaaah! Joo Sung-yoongggggggg!!!!!!!”

A voice filled with rage echoed across the golf course.

Men with guns gathered and glared north.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it seemed some of them strongly advocated going north to deal with Joo Sung-yong.

While the men vented their anger, the women sat around the dying campfire, talking or standing with their arms crossed, listening to the men.

By the afternoon, the people had split into two groups.

It seemed some wanted to stay and wait for Joo Sung-yong.

Loud arguments broke out on both sides.

While they were fiercely opposing each other, I logged into the community.

There was something I had always been curious about.

Pioneers, Pioneer Teams, Pioneer Corps.

At first, they all seemed the same, but there were differences and directions among them.

SKELTON: What exactly is a Pioneer Corps? Does anyone know?

To confirm, I posted a question on the bulletin board.

Since I’m an unpopular user, I did other things while waiting for a response.

Beep—

The battery tester indicated that the Javelin’s battery was fully charged.

After much effort, I finally managed to charge the Javelin’s battery.

I need to check if it works properly at the sniper’s hideout, but for now, I need to ensure the voltage remains stable without discharging while it’s attached to the Javelin.

I put the fully charged battery in my bag and checked my laptop.

There were a few comments.

Roka_hun: Isn’t that the organization that manages the pioneers?

Keystone: Those bastards? They manage the pioneers. They’re just a bunch of dogs.

Unicorn18: What about the SUNBI ID?

“...I’m not Sunbi.”

The journalist provided the accurate information.

Whether he saw my post or was planning to write about it anyway, the journalist posted an article about the Pioneer Corps shortly after I posted my question.

Gijayangban: About the Pioneer Corps.txt

- I don’t like writing long articles or reading them, so I’ll summarize in three lines.

1. The country considers people as assets and houses a lot of people in major cities.

2. Now, those people are no longer needed.

3. The Pioneer Corps is the organization that disposes of the people who are no longer needed.

What I had vaguely suspected was now clearly revealed.

The Pioneer Corps is not an adventurous group that reclaims barren land and recovers land.

They are an organization that picks people from cities and dumps them outside.

The understanding of why Colonel Choi came to my area, the pioneers I dealt with along with Defender, and Joo Sung-yong’s visit to my area all made sense in this context.

They discard useless people in useless land, where they can devour each other.

Joo Sung-yong didn’t start by abandoning people like this.

As the saying goes, a needle thief becomes a cattle thief. He gradually started abandoning people, and now he boldly dumps people in the wilderness.

There are abandoned people out there.

They are still arguing.

Whether to go north or stay and wait for the bus.

The man insisting on staying had a loud voice and aggressive actions.

Pressed by his momentum, the people couldn’t reach a consensus and returned to their tents.

Another day passed.

It seems there were fatalities.

The people carried frozen, lifeless bodies from their tents and transported them over the ridge.

Someone’s death is a strong source of persuasion for others.

Those who wanted to leave gained the upper hand, and most sided with them.

About ten people remained, but their numbers dwindled, and when the others left for the north, only one man was left.

The man who had shouted loudly enough to be heard across the entire golf course the day before.

He was in his fifties, thin but with a broad face that suggested he had some substance, and he exuded an excessive amount of energy with every movement.

He shouted curses at the departing people and then lit a fire next to his tent.

Is he still waiting for Joo Sung-yong in this situation?

It’s a remarkable faith.

Suddenly, I had a new neighbor, but I didn’t make contact.

It could be a trap set by Joo Sung-yong.

If so, this could be an opportunity.

What would his reaction be when I start the generator at this distance?

The group led by Colonel Choi was too close to be useful, and during the last cold snap, they had burned smoke in broad daylight, so there’s some leeway.

What I’m most concerned about is noise.

From where I listened, it was almost inaudible, but there are people with better hearing than me in this world.

To be cautious, I waited for bad weather.

The weather gradually warmed, but the thermometer still pointed to below zero.

The man stubbornly held out in his tent alone.

How much food does he have left?

It doesn’t seem very plentiful.

Judging by the way he boiled a nutrition bar that tasted like dog food with some unidentified sprouting plants in a pot, it’s not much.

That evening, dark clouds gathered to the north.

A mix of sleet and rain poured down at night.

The bad weather I had been waiting for had arrived.

I started the generator.

What would his reaction be?

The man didn’t react.

Even as the generator’s engine roared so loudly that my entire bunker shook, the man didn’t budge.

I went outside to check his reaction.

Ssssssh—

In the increasingly heavy rain, my generator’s noise was clearly muffled.

But that’s not all.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Distant gunshots came from the north.

The man had heard the gunshots.

The gunshots were coming from the north, where he had come from and where the people he had been with had gone.

A clear morning followed the storm.

The temperature noticeably rose.

The mercury pointed to 10 degrees Celsius.

Amid the chirping of birds, the man slowly walked out of his tent.

He looked around, especially to the north, for a long time before suddenly breaking into song.

It wasn’t a popular song but a classic ballad.

He didn’t sing well, but it seemed to be a song he enjoyed.

After singing a song, the man, like a boy, broke a stick and climbed the ridge, looking quietly at the golf course.

After a while, he placed a stone on the ground and took a golf stance.

He gauged the distance by placing his fingers near his eyes and then hit the stone with a soft swing.

The swing was impressive, but the stone only flew a few meters.

The man grunted as he broke the stick.

He disappeared over the ridge and didn’t reappear for a while.

About an hour later, the man reappeared beyond the ridge.

He held a golf club and a golf ball and wore a golf cap from somewhere.

What is he trying to do?

Is he trying to feel good because this is a golf course?

A while later, he stopped, bent down, and pulled up some grass.

What is he trying to do?

I looked at the spot where he pulled up the grass through a telescope.

“Huh?”

I gasped in surprise.

Under the pulled-up weeds was a hidden hole.

I didn’t know it was there.

Not just there.

He found and restored the holes one after another, as if the golf course were his living room.

The nameless man started his round.

Thwack!

With a crisp swing, the golf ball soared into the sky.

I don’t know much about golf, but even I could tell he wasn’t an ordinary player.

However, the weed-filled golf course seemed inadequate for such a skilled golfer.

The ball often got stuck in the dried weeds, bounced off shrubs, or fell into holes covered with trash from the U.S. military base.

Each time, he shouted, but the joy on his face remained.

Seeing his incredibly happy face, I came to a conclusion.

This man is not just a pawn of Joo Sung-yong.

He just stayed behind.

But why did he stay?

Was he waiting for the bus?

No, he didn’t seem to think the bus would come.

He only looked north when the people left and when the gunshots were heard.

A bold assumption began to take root in my mind, gaining credibility from his happy face.

Perhaps the bus didn’t matter to him at all.

Maybe he lied about waiting for the bus and stayed behind by force.

If he insisted on staying to play golf, people would have dragged him away.

As a result, the man now has exclusive use of a luxurious country club with an 18 billion won membership.

It’s a luxury even tycoons can’t enjoy.

After a few trial and error, the last ball went into the last hole.

The man’s long and short round was over.

“Come on!”

His spirited cheer reached me.

The man looked around with a relieved smile.

No one was there.

No caddy, no gallery, no annoying fellow members.

His smile gradually faded.

It wasn’t a pleasant sight.

He seemed to think the same.

Before the smile on his lips faded, the man suddenly pulled out a pistol and, still smiling, pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The last golfer fell.

The golf course fell into a long silence again.

A few innocent sparrows gathered like a gallery and quickly flew away.

*

They say there’s no such thing as something completely useless in the world.

Even a human trash like Joo Sung-yong can sometimes be helpful.

Chouchou: Please, someone help me. The Pioneer Corps is outside!

Chouchou.

I heard some bad things about him.

After I left, he tried to take a girl’s body, leading to a conflict with Diesira.

If not for another colleague’s intervention, he might have been burned with other bodies.

I may be an unpopular low-level user in the community, but I am still a member.

Chouchou is no longer treated as a colleague.

Despite writing posts that could be popular based on views, no one comments.

“...”

They say I’m not good with the internet.

It might be true.

But this time, I had a hunch.

SKELTON: Who are you? The guys who attacked your bunker?

I was the first to comment on Chouchou’s post, which had been collectively ignored by an unspoken agreement.

Chouchou: It’s a guy named Joo Sung-yong!

Chouchou replied immediately.

SKELTON: The commander of the 22nd Pioneer Corps?

Chouchou: How did you know? Yes, that’s right. I’m in a huge hurry. I’m in the Gimpo area. Can you come?

SKELTON: It’s close. So, how did he find you?

Chouchou: Sewer pipes! He talked about the smell of shit and found me there!

SKELTON: Did you touch anything around the bodies?

Chouchou: I’m in a hurry. No time to talk. Where are you? Skeleton? Are you close? Can you help?

I deliberately took my time.

As expected, he sent a private message first.

Message from Chouchou: I touched a woman’s body.

SKELTON: No, did you touch the items, not the woman’s body?

He tried to talk secretly through messages, but I commented on the public board.

Chouchou: The gun! I took the gun. What do you mean by the woman’s body? When did I do that? Are you joking? Now?

SKELTON: That’s right~

I showed everything I wanted to show.

Through this, our users will know Joo Sung-yong’s name and methods.

They will also know about his fetish for the smell of shit.

Of course, one person cursed me.

Chouchou: You bastard, Skeleton! I’m one step from death? Are you playing with me? You fucker, I know your face. If I survive, I’ll kill you first! You look like a dick, fuck!

In the past, I would have been furious at such insults online, but as they say, a dog trained for three months can recite poetry, so I just laughed.

Is that why?

SKELTON: Nyeh nyeh~

I reached a level where I could even show such ease.

But this high level elicited an unexpected reaction.

Message from Defender: Hey~

“?”

This is just the beginning.

Anonymous848: Wow, this guy Skeleton really knows how to play.

Anonymous458: He should have played like this from the start.

DragonC: Oh, a guy who knows how to have fun?

Dies_irea69: I told you. Skeleton is a normal and solid friend in real life.

Keystone: Good that I unblocked him.

...

...

Thunderous applause poured in.

But in the midst of the first cheers, a message arrived that couldn’t be ignored.

Message from 183cm88kg18cm: Damn, you’re good.

“Huh?”