47. Greetings. (1)

Buzz, buzz-

The vibration from my phone in my pocket woke me up.

“Phew.”

I rubbed my eyes and got up, swaying a bit.

Damn, I’m sleep-deprived.

But the Special Forces members are taking shifts, guarding the building while holding miniguns, so I can’t just sleep the whole day away.

I need to go to the pharmacy.

After brushing my teeth in the bathroom and getting dressed, I was about to head out when I caught a whiff of cigarette smoke from the stairwell.

Who’s that? Sung Gyeon?

“Ah.”

A male voice, noticing me.

Standing at the top of the stairs was a man in a white coat, Director Park Sang-eun.

He was standing at the bend of the stairs, looking out the window and smoking a cigarette.

He quickly stubbed out the cigarette on the floor and stood up when he saw me.

I nodded slightly and said:

“Good morning. You don’t have to put out your cigarette.”

Director Park looked embarrassed and hesitated.

“Actually, it’s a no-smoking policy indoors.”

…Huh?

No-smoking policy? What is he talking about?

I laughed and said:

“Those rules disappeared a long time ago. Even if they existed a few months ago.”

Director Park smiled bitterly and said:

“That’s… true. The world I lived in is gone. No courts, no police, nothing.”

He sighed and looked around the building.

It was a building he had always known, but his face had a nostalgic look.

“No smoking indoors. I used to scold my staff for it. Even if someone smoked a single puff in the bathroom, they couldn’t hide it from me. I used to scold them harshly. Those days are gone now.”

Hmm.

I chuckled and walked up the stairs.

The window was half-open.

I pushed it fully open and asked Director Park:

“What kind of cigarettes do you smoke? Do you smoke these?”

I took out two Cuban cigars from the duffel bag on my shoulder.

I couldn’t leave this behind, even if I left everything else.

Luxuries are luxuries only when you can enjoy them. There’s no point in hoarding them.

Director Park’s eyes widened.

I smiled and said:

“I got these from the U.S. military. They’re Cuban. Have a try.”

“Thank you… very much.”

I handed him one, cut the end with a cutter, and lit it for him. I also lit one for myself.

The rich, dark wood scent filled my chest.

Director Park looked at the cigar in his hand and smiled.

“This is good. It might be a bit heavy for the morning, though.”

That’s true.

One puff and my head feels light.

I leaned against the wall and nodded.

“Did you get some sleep? I heard you taught Sergeant Song a lot yesterday.”

Director Park smiled and said:

“Yes. He’s a promising young man. He absorbs everything I teach like a sponge. It was satisfying to teach him, even though he can be a bit arrogant and cocky.”

That’s Sergeant Song for sure.

He seems to have a good head on his shoulders.

I crossed my arms, took a puff of the cigar, and said:

“Hmm. …Then, why don’t you keep teaching him? We’ll need people to run this power plant in the future.”

Director Park paused, cigar in hand.

Then, he smiled bitterly.

“I don’t think I have that much time. I’m leaving.”

This guy is stubborn.

People are starting to gather, even if not in large numbers.

I looked out the window, exhaling smoke, and asked:

“Why do you have to leave?”

Director Park just smiled bitterly, not saying a word.

He doesn’t seem to want to talk about it.

I waited for a moment and then nodded.

“I’m going to the pharmacy today. I’ll take whatever I can find, but… is there anything you need? Maybe some B-complex vitamins?”

“No, I’m fi-”

Director Park hesitated and then said:

“…Some painkillers would be nice. Even a general cold medicine would do.”

I tilted my head.

“Are you in pain?”

“I’m fine physically. It’s not my body…”

Director Park sighed faintly and smiled.

“Have you ever heard this? I saw it on the internet. When someone you love dies or you break up, it hurts. But it’s not just emotional pain; it’s actual physical pain.”

Oh.

I took a puff of the cigar and nodded.

“Is that so? I never heard that before.”

Director Park nodded and said:

“So, they say that taking painkillers can help when you’re emotionally hurt. I thought maybe it would work for me too.”

Painkillers for emotional pain?

What happened to this guy?

His colleagues left, some committed suicide…

Of course, it must be tough, but there seems to be something more fundamental, something that shakes his very existence, making him think he should just leave, that it doesn’t matter if he dies.

…Come to think of it.

This guy never mentioned his family.

Family.

Yes, family can certainly make someone feel this way.

I tilted my head and asked:

“Excuse me, but do you have a wife or children?”

Director Park’s face hardened, and he fell silent.

His expression gave it away.

Family.

It must be his family.

I looked at the silent Director Park and asked carefully:

“Did they… die or turn?”

Director Park didn’t answer.

He just remained expressionless.

But it wasn’t just a blank face.

His eyes were pained.

The same shadowed look I saw the first day I met him.

I crossed my arms and said:

“These days, there are hardly any people whose families are safe. I… left my hometown and came to Seoul when this happened. I try to call my parents and younger sister every night, but I can’t get through.”

Director Park slowly looked up at me.

I felt a bitter taste in my mouth.

I could feel it myself.

I smiled and said:

“Maybe they’re alive somewhere. I came here with that hope, but deep down, I wonder if my family is gone. I have that thought sometimes.”

Director Park looked at me for a while and then slowly lowered his gaze.

He raised the cigar to his mouth, perhaps to hide his face, but remained silent.

The conversation seems to be over.

He doesn’t seem to want to talk anymore.

I smiled and said:

“Still, I’m going to try to live. Even if everything precious is gone and the world is a mess, you have to keep fighting to survive.”

“…Why?”

Director Park didn’t look at me.

He just stared at the empty space below.

He exhaled the cigar smoke and said:

“I have nothing left. Why should I live?”

Deep stuff.

I took a puff of the Cuban cigar and thought for a moment.

But I can’t give some philosophical answer with my brain.

I just speak from what I feel.

I said:

“Because I don’t want to die.”

Director Park slowly looked up at me.

The cigar smoke flowed out of my mouth.

“People who are suffering might say they want to die, but who really wants to die? You can find reasons to live as you go. Even when you think of painful things and your heart aches, good food still tastes good, and funny movies are still funny.”

A faint smile appeared on Director Park’s dark eyes.

“…You live comfortably. I’m not mocking you. I just envy you. That you can live like that.”

I shrugged.

“I don’t want to live a hard life. I’ve never been the type to think deeply about things. Sometimes, when I dream, I see the first day of the apocalypse, when I was chased by those things and had to run for my life.”

I chuckled.

“Then I wake up, and there’s my girlfriend lying next to me. Or here, or at the U.S. base. It hits me: I’m alive and made it this far. Then I get up and keep living.”

The lifting belt around my waist.

The two swords hanging from it.

I stroked the sword handles and looked at Director Park.

“With these guys.”

Director Park just listened to me.

I wish he could let it all out if he has a story, but his face tells me he won’t.

His gaze slowly turned to the side.

It stopped at a point.

He was staring intently at the empty space.

…He must be seeing hallucinations again.

Tsk.

I clicked my tongue and asked:

“Director, Director?”

Director Park looked at me.

I shook my head.

“There’s nothing there.”

“…Ah, yes.”

Director Park smiled faintly.

“I know. It’s just something I can see, but it’s not real.”

I slowly nodded.

Is he really okay?

At that moment, a sound came from below.

The same sound I heard on the first day I arrived.

Woo-aa, aaa-aaa-

I frowned and looked down the stairs.

“What’s that sound?”

Director Park blinked several times, opened and closed his mouth, and looked flustered.

He cleared his throat and said:

“That’s… that, something embarrassing in the basement.”

I tilted my head.

“Embarrassing? What is it?”

Director Park smiled bitterly.

“Actually, it’s nuclear fuel. It’s in a transport container.”

My eyes widened.

I tilted my head and asked:

“Nuclear fuel?”

Director Park extended his hand and said:

“It’s safe. As I said, it’s in a transport container.”

“Why is it there?”

Director Park smiled bitterly and said:

“I was going to commit suicide. I put the transport container in the basement, locked myself in, and was going to open it.”

I looked at Director Park in shock, at a loss for words.

If he did that, the entire building would be exposed to radiation.

Director Park had a strange look on his face, almost smiling, and said:

“But I gave up. Don’t worry. I won’t do that anymore. I just… need to leave.”

“No, before that, what about that sound?”

“Ah, that’s…”

Director Park blinked and said:

“I tried to open the transport container but stopped. The radiation hasn’t leaked, but steam is escaping from inside. The cooling water inside the container doesn’t come into direct contact with the fuel, so it’s just steam.”

I slowly nodded.

“…The sound is from the steam escaping. So, the cooling water needs to be refilled, right?”

Director Park nodded and said:

“Yes, it needs to be refilled. I refill it every day. But it’s best if no one else goes in there besides me. I’ll teach Sergeant Song how to refill the cooling water later, but for now, it’s best not to enter or touch the transport container.”

He frowned and emphasized:

“If you touch it improperly, you’ll be exposed to radiation. Consider it a restricted area for authorized personnel only.”

I slowly nodded.

I have the Soul Tattoo, but I don’t know if it protects against radiation.

I don’t want to experiment with that.

This guy’s story is questionable, but it’s a nuclear power plant, and I don’t want to take any risks.