The Apocalypse Regressor's All-Purpose Shelter

“Hmmm.”

Park Gyumin slowly swept the resort and dock across the river with his binoculars.

Amid skeletons scattered everywhere, countless zombies stood motionless like mannequins beneath the shade or under the dock roofs.

“Director.”

An employee beside him held out a laptop.

On the laptop screen was a clear real-time feed being transmitted by a drone another employee was piloting as it flew around the island.

“It’s similar to last week. Their positions and their numbers, there’s almost no difference.”

“Still, you never know, so make sure you check properly. Did you forget that Alpha bastard from before that pretended to move somewhere else and set up a trap?”

“N-no, sir. Understood. We’ll scout thoroughly and confirm everything.”

“Good.”

Park Gyumin nodded in satisfaction and held out the binoculars he had been holding, and the employee quickly accepted them.

“Let’s take a slow lap around.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once Park Gyumin climbed into the passenger seat of the electric cart, the two electric carts positioned in front and behind the cart he was riding in began moving together along the riverside path.

“Binoculars.”

Even while moving in the electric cart, Park Gyumin repeatedly received the binoculars and observed the opposite side of the river.

Only after circling the island once and checking every pension, resort, and dock in the surrounding area did he finally wear a satisfied expression.

“Still packed with them. Good.”

Once or twice every week, he circled the island like this and checked the situation across the river.

It was to understand the current state of the zombies in the surrounding area.

Because those bastards were the natural wall and guards protecting the island.

That’s right. Despite possessing a large amount of firearms, Park Gyumin had deliberately not killed the zombies in the pensions and resorts within a one-kilometer radius centered around the island.

Whether going upstream or downstream along the Bukhan River, everything was full villas, pensions, or resorts anyway, so if they needed something they could just loot those places.

There was no reason to bother killing such grateful guards that, if simply left alone, would notify them of intruders and even kill them for free.

Besides, while they could examine the opposite riverbank like the palm of their hand from here, the zombies could not.

Because the distance from the island to the opposite bank reached nearly two hundred meters, zombies with poor eyesight could not see this side even during the daytime.

'A natural fortress, you could call it.'

Praising himself inwardly for moving more quickly than anyone else and swallowing this place whole when the disaster first broke out, Park Gyumin spoke to the employee holding the steering wheel.

“Head to headquarters.”

The cart moved toward the dense cluster of buildings in the center of the island where the food courts were gathered.

It was where the roughly 150 survivors of Nami Island lived.

Nami Island had a circumference of roughly six kilometers, and an area of 460,000 square meters, about 140,000 pyeong.

And the island also had many convenience facilities such as marts, convenience stores, cafés, and restaurants. Furthermore, when the infection outbreak occurred it had been peak season, so order volumes had also been high, meaning food and supplies were relatively abundant.

But after taking control of the island, Park Gyumin cleared lawns throughout the place and built roughly twenty vinyl greenhouses to cultivate various crops.

Anticipating that the situation would continue for a long time, he had prepared a self-sufficient system in advance.

And the labor related to that was handled by over a hundred people who, in the past, had been guests and tourists visiting this place, but now were nothing more than slaves.

Unable to escape the island, and even if they somehow left, zombies were swarming everywhere outside, the people had no choice but to live being worked like slaves under brutal conditions.

Because only then could they receive two rice balls a day mixed with a little potato, sweet potato, or freshwater fish.

“How is it? Going well?”

“Not at all. Rice farming’s probably impossible no matter what. The soil quality’s bad, they say.”

Kim Geonwoo, an inspector from Gapyeong Police Station who had maintained a long-standing corrupt relationship with Park Gyumin—or more accurately, Park Gyumin’s family—even before the world became like this, shrugged his shoulders.

One of the section chiefs at Gapyeong Police Station, he had been on duty when the infection outbreak occurred, and was the man who persuaded several colleagues and handed over the firearms and ammunition stored inside the police station to Park Gyumin.

In exchange, Kim Geonwoo became Park Gyumin’s right-hand man supervising and managing the “slaves,” while his wife lived on the island like some noblewoman without lifting a single finger.

“But there’s still enough rice left for us to eat for more than half a year anyway, right? And if we run short, we can just head toward Anbori or Dangnim-ri and loot farmhouses. Easy.”

Kim Geonwoo laughed while tapping the K2 rifle slung over his shoulder.

A K5 pistol was also holstered at his waist, and the other employees monitoring the people continuing their grueling labor alongside him were likewise armed with hunting shotguns and air rifles that had been entrusted to the police station’s firearms storage.

“Well, that’s true. Heh, times like this really make it nice that everything around us is countryside. Wherever you loot, food comes out.”

“And since it’s riverside, if things get desperate we can always catch fish and eat those too. By the way, still no news from the guys we sent scouting, right?”

At Kim Geonwoo’s words, Park Gyumin smirked.

“It’s only been three days. Whether they only checked things out or killed and looted them, even if they’re fast it’ll still take another two or three days before we hear anything. If you’re nervous, send a few more. Or should Inspector Kim go personally?”

“Come on, it’s too far. Besides, I want to live [N O V E L I G H T] comfortably now too. At this point, we’re good for about a year, aren’t we?”

Food was plentiful, and there were still many luxury goods monopolized by the ruling class such as alcohol and cigarettes, along with various daily necessities.

For quite some time, there was no need to loot other places unnecessarily.

Which was why, aside from a few managers and leaders, the personnel sent to scout Namyangju were people they had brought back while looting nearby areas or people who had joined them voluntarily.

People who were nice to have, but honestly unnecessary.

Dangerous work was first entrusted to those kinds of people who needed to prove their value as “comrades,” while members of the “ruling class” like Kim Geonwoo lived comfortably and safely—that was the Nami Island group.

“Fine. Handle it yourselves. Anyway, just pay a little more attention until the rainy season starts. But... feels like I don’t see some of the guys?”

When Park Gyumin looked around and asked, Kim Geonwoo smirked.

“They’re draining some water.”

“Water? Ah, that.... Whew, they’re gonna wear them out. Tell them to take it easy.”

Just then, as Park Gyumin clicked his tongue, three armed employees emerged from the dense forest right beside the lawn where the vinyl greenhouses stood while fixing their pants.

And shortly afterward, two young women with gaunt faces emerged from the same place.

The way they continuously wiped tears away and staggered forward made it obvious what had been done to them, but there was neither comfort nor compensation.

And the people painfully dedicating themselves to work in the vinyl greenhouses and fields stared blankly at them.

Those who could not eat properly all looked hollow-eyed, pale-faced, and thin.

Because they had washed simply in river water without soap or shampoo, their skin conditions were poor as well, and regardless of gender, they had been unable to cut their hair properly for a long time, leaving their hair messy and sticking out everywhere.

Several middle-aged women approached the two girls and comforted them.

“Fuck! Stop screwing around and get back to work!”

Then the employees shouted while cursing, and the people shrank their shoulders and hurriedly resumed their labor.

Because this place was a “territory” where roughly thirty looters possessing tools of violence called guns and blades—and already having histories of murdering countless people—abused and exploited everyone else.

And Park Gyumin, standing at the peak of that territory, watched the scene with satisfied eyes and muttered,

“I wish those scouting bastards would hurry back. Paradise or whatever the hell it was called—if there are plenty of young good-looking ones, even better....”

Park Gyumin’s head was filled only with thoughts of a “new place to loot” and the “new slaves” that would be there.

At the same time, he hoped the world would remain like this for a very, very long time.

A wonderful world where, if you possessed power, you could do anything.

A world where no one would say a word no matter how much you exploited, abused, or killed people at your whim.

Thinking that he hoped it would continue for exactly ten years—not more, not less—

“Assistant Manager Park. Tell the girls to wash up and get ready.”

“Yes, Director.”

Park Gyumin grinned as he thought about spending another filthy time with his slaves, whom he had not yet grown tired of but would probably “throw away” into the river within a few weeks.

***

“No, if someone’s sick, you should’ve said something immediately.”

“Th-that’s because... I thought it was just a normal cold, so if she took some aspirin it’d clear up quickly. And it felt a little awkward to make a big fuss over something minor....”

Junho clicked his tongue at Lee Wonoh, who trailed off while watching his expression.

“Mr. Lee Wonoh. In today’s world, even a light cold can develop into pneumonia at any time. And what if it spread to the people living together here? A village or survivor group getting wiped out by severe illness because of a cold can happen in an instant.”

Cough, cough!

At that moment, a woman sitting on the sofa over there wrapped tightly in blankets coughed painfully.

The woman sweating cold sweat with a pale face was Jeong Seyeong, who had flirted with Junho several times in the past.

“I’m sorry.”

“Anyway, consider yourselves lucky you found out even now.”

“Dr. Choi and Ms. Kim say they can come this afternoon. Today’s the day they make house calls to the nursing home, so they said they’ll head here right after they finish.”

At Yoon Seolhee’s words after ending communications with the shelter, the expressions of the women caring for Jeong Seyeong brightened.

Only then did Junho speak to Lee Wonoh, who finally let out a relieved sigh.

“Use this opportunity to have everyone here examined.”

Accepting the suggestion from Choi Uisu and his wife, Junho had converted one of the shelter’s electric trucks entirely into a dedicated medical vehicle.

Not only basic examination equipment such as electronic stethoscopes, blood pressure monitors, thermometers, and oxygen saturation meters.

But also a portable purification and sterilization device, blood analyzer, pocket-sized ultrasound equipment, and a 12-channel smart electrocardiograph.

On top of that, the dedicated medical vehicle equipped with a small automatic defibrillator, portable oxygen tanks, automatic suction machine, and emergency surgical equipment became an enormous help to survivors in areas near the shelter.

Furthermore, thanks to Baek Sua, several professional medicines such as antibiotics were now being produced on a small scale.

So while perhaps not forever into the distant future, for at least several years it became possible to receive medical services at a level unimaginable in the apocalypse.

“Th-thank you. You came because of another matter, but because of us....”

“If you’re grateful, then from now on report things immediately whenever something happens and receive treatment.”

“Yes, sir.”

The “Welcome Karaoke Bar” people living at the water leisure sports center were core personnel who were extremely helpful to Junho.

Because they managed this place, exchanges of personnel and supplies with Kangho Resort in Gwangju and Major Lee Seokjin’s unit in Deokso could continue smoothly.

The water leisure sports center served as a hub connecting the shelter, Kangho Resort, and the Deokso unit.

And while receiving support from Junho, the karaoke-bar people maintained a certain degree of self-sufficiency while also taking responsibility for equipment maintenance.

Additionally, they even played the role of providing mental and emotional stability to soldiers and others dispatched here or staying temporarily.

At this point, they were more than worthy of being called “important personnel.”

“What about the boat? Is everything prepared?”

“Ah yes. That staff sergeant who was dispatched here did some rough maintenance on it. Let’s head over and take a look first.”

Junho, Yoon Seolhee, Choi Hyunwoo, and Park Deokcheol followed Lee Wonoh outside.

At the dock, camouflaged so it could not easily be seen from the river or opposite bank, floated a small fishing boat.

Learning from the previous Bucheon expedition, Junho had decided to prepare thoroughly this time.

So the inflatable boat and electric motor used previously would be brought separately after deflating them, and they planned to ride this boat all the way to Nami Island.

“But is this really okay? Fishing boats like this are insanely loud.”

Park Deokcheol, the self-proclaimed and publicly acknowledged “Texas Fishing Master,” had frequently ridden boats like this while fishing in America, to the point he could even drive one and perform simple repairs.

That was exactly why Junho was bringing him along for this mission.

“It’s fine. Those bastards came from Nami Island to here riding something similar too. There were no threats and nothing special happened, so that’s probably why it worked.”

“Ah, true.”

There was no reason our side could not do something the enemy could.

Furthermore, not only in combat power but also equipment-wise, our shelter side was several levels above them.

“Mr. Jeongwoo. How did the work go?”

Choi Jeongwoo, who had come all the way here together and was installing something on the boat, wiped sweat from his forehead and answered,

“Yes. I just finished installing the relay. We also installed a relay and amplifier on the mountain where Daeseong Tunnel is, so wireless communication should work all the way to the area around Cheongpyeong Station.”

At those words, Junho checked the map on the tablet and nodded.

“That’s enough. Anyway, thank you for your hard work. Rest here for now, then later return together with Dr. Choi. Alright everyone, load up the luggage.”

“Yes, boss.”

Choi Hyunwoo, the strongest after Junho, carefully carried waterproof boxes filled with all kinds of equipment onto the boat one by one.

Meanwhile Park Deokcheol headed to the cockpit and prepared to start the boat.

Junho then spoke to Lee Wonoh and the soldiers dispatched here standing at the dock.

“Our side will continue monitoring and notify you if anything unusual happens, but even so, don’t let your guard down for a while. It’s not just Nami Island. Bastards are starting to crawl out little by little from all kinds of places.”

Nami Island, ruled by the bisexual psychopath Park Gyumin, was fairly large in scale, but it was merely the tip of the iceberg.

Now murderers who had perfectly adapted to the apocalypse wandered around in groups ranging from five or six to several dozen people, attacking those who had barely managed to settle down and survive in these rural and outskirts areas.

They had realized that even if Alphas and zombies existed, eliminating them in small rural villages with few households was not especially difficult.

There was a reason Junho had expanded his territory beyond Gahyeon-ri and Yeongho-ri all the way here to establish a defensive zone.

“Don’t worry, boss.”

“We’ve got drones and turrets. If any bastards show up, we’ll definitely deal with them.”

The soldiers puffed out their chests and raised their voices.

If he provided appropriate support through exchanges, then like this they would be the ones discovering enemies and fighting for our shelter first.

“Good. I’m counting on you.”

As Junho nodded, his eyes caught Choi Hyunwoo struggling and groaning while carrying something despite his huge build.

“Ah, Hyunwoo, I’ll handle that one. Move the other stuff instead.”

“Yes, boss. But this thing’s seriously heavy. What is it?”

Junho effortlessly lifted the box containing an item weighing several dozen kilograms and loaded it onto the boat before grinning.

“My armor.”

It was the ‘reinforced version Dragon Scale,’ something only Junho alone could wear, strengthened with time and effort by Baek Hail after being worn only once in the past during the assault on the Kookje faction.

After all, it was precisely for situations like this—facing enemies with large numbers, abundant firearms and ammunition, and an isolated narrow battlefield called an island—that he had gone all the way to America to obtain this thing.