BW C80

Chapter 80

“What’s your sister’s name?”

At that question, Jung-woo swallowed hard and cleared his throat before speaking more clearly than before:

“Park Jeong-i. Seonghwa Girls’ School. Grade five, Class nine.”

“Jeong-i… Where is your sister now?”

At that, Jung-woo’s brows drooped low. His lower lip puffed out as he shook his head miserably.

“You don’t know? Hm…”

Hoeun clicked his tongue softly in thought. If the girl Jeong-i was still alive, the most likely places would be either among the refugees in one of the shelters or here in the hospital. The shelter couldn’t be checked immediately, but the hospital could at least be searched.

“Lady Seong-im, perhaps Jung-woo’s sister is here. Should we look around the hospital a little?”

He asked her in a low, tentative voice.

“….”

Seong-im frowned faintly, turning her sword’s sheath in her hand as if impatient with the diversion. Watching his overly earnest face, she sighed, then abruptly grabbed a passing Jeokudae soldier, pulling him to stand before Hoeun.

“….”

Hoeun blinked, startled. Was that meant to say he should take the soldier along? Or that the soldier should do the searching? He wasn’t sure, tilting his head in confusion—until Seong-im moved her lips silently, mimicking speech with her hands. Then she pointed toward Gilsang in the distance.

“…Ah!”

Hoeun exclaimed softly in realization. He rose quickly to his feet and said to the soldier, showing him Jung-woo:

“This boy’s sister might be somewhere in this hospital. Could you inform Sergeant Oh that Lady Seong-im and I will go search inside?”

“Ah, yes. I will.”

The soldier nodded and began to turn, but Hoeun stopped him with another quick question.

“Wait—um… the General, he hasn’t returned yet, has he?”

“The Captain? Ah… no, not yet.”

“No word at all?”

“I was told he is on his way here.”

At that, Hoeun’s face brightened.

“That’s enough for me—thank you.”

Taemuk was coming. That meant he was alive. That meant he would, without fail, arrive here in time. That was enough.

The soldier gave him a bow and hurried to Gilsang, relaying the message. From where he stood, Gilsang’s gaze flicked their way, then back again to the battlefield. His eyes measured the barricaded hospital walls, and the monsters pressing outside—but at last he nodded. He seemed to agree Hoeun was safer inside than out. At that unspoken permission, Hoeun smiled gently.

“There’s plenty of chocolate. I’ll set aside some for your sister when we find her. This handful is just for you, Jung-woo.”

He placed the sweets in the boy’s hand, held him close, and entered the hospital again with Seong-im at his side.

The hospital was darker now that night had fallen, but having been inside once before, Hoeun already felt a strange familiarity with it. He began to weave carefully between rows of huddled patients and refugees, searching for Jeong-i.

“Excuse me, do you know a girl named Park Jeong?”

“I’m sorry—did you see a student named Park Jeong? No, no, not a boy—a girl.”

“Do you know anyone called Jeong? No? Not Jeong, but Jeong-i. She’s a student at Seonghwa Girls’ School.”

So he asked, room after room, all along the corridor and even into the back latrines, combing through the entire first floor. His spirits didn’t falter—after all, there were still the second and third floors left.

But upon finishing the second floor, by the time he reached the stairwell to the third, unease was gnawing his chest. At the same time, exhaustion dragged down each limb.

“Lady Seong-im… p-please… give me a moment… just a moment.”

Holding Jung-woo in one arm and gripping the stair railing with the other, he leaned heavily, gasping. Crossing such a large building was arduous enough—but doing so while holding the boy, threading carefully over slippery bloodstained floors, and repeating his questions to every stranger—it was too much.

For the first time in many days, Hoeun’s forehead beaded with not just cold stress-sweat, but honest perspiration. His blurred body sagged against the banister until Seong-im suddenly reached her hand toward him—gesturing for the boy.

“…No… I-it’s all right.”

He shook his head, words broken with shallow breath. He was near his limit, but still he refused. Not from stubborn pride—but simply because it felt right. Should monsters somehow force their way inside, Seong-im needed her hands free for her sword. Therefore, holding the boy was his duty.

After a few deeper breaths, he forced his legs back up, continuing. Jung-woo remained ignorant of his strain, smiling faintly as he sucked chocolate in his mouth. The boy’s innocent face strangely gave him strength.

They searched the third floor as carefully as the rest.

“Hello, do you know a student named Jeong?”

“I’m sorry—have you seen a girl named Park Jeong-i?”

So it went, room 301 to 302 to 303… until at last they reached the final room, 318. And by then, the bad premonition festering in Hoeun could not be held back.

It seemed Jeong-i was not here.

If not the hospital—then where? Perhaps the shelter. If so, hope yet lived. But otherwise? Could she be out beyond the barricades, amid the writhing monsters? Like her brother, being dangled as bait?

Or worse—was she even alive at all? Could one of the shrouded white bundles in the courtyard already be hers, blood soaking the sheets red?

Hoeun squeezed his eyes shut, shaking with dread. For the first time, the thought of walking into the last room filled him with fear. And when he hesitated at the threshold, Seong-im clicked her tongue, sighed, and strode forward to open it first.

But just then—

BOOM. BOOM-boom. BOOM. BOOOM!

Cannons roared in succession. Neither flinched. They no longer startled at such sounds—the entire day had trained their bones to it. Hoeun even gave a twisted little laugh at the thought—what kind of world forced you to grow used to cannon fire?

BOOM. BOOM, BOOOM, BOOM!

Again the thunder. And this time, Hoeun froze stiff.

Something sounded wrong.

He had seen the drills often in the courtyard—all cannons fired together, systematically. The blast and the echo, clean and regular. But now? Each one fired out of rhythm, exploding off-tempo.

Hoeun grabbed Seong-im abruptly.

“Something’s wrong outside.”

“….”

She narrowed her eyes, not fully grasping. He tugged her after him toward a window—

BOOM!

Another blast—and then—

KA-BOOM!

But this explosion did not end in a single thunderclap.

“…Ah…”

The walls shuddered violently. Not the faint tremors they’d grown used to, but something else—an upheaval, rending through stone.

Not as if collapse threatened—no, the hospital truly was collapsing.

Jagged cracks raced like black spiderwebs across every wall, great and small, overtaking stone with frightening speed.

And the floors beneath buckled soft, shifting like soil. Hoeun stumbled, nearly falling—but Seong-im grasped his elbow, dragging him back from the window.

They had taken only a few staggering steps when another blast—

BOOOOM! KA-BOOOOM!

And a storm of earth and dust exploded through the corridors.

Hoeun and Seong-im were hurled by unseen force, smashing against the wall before slamming to the ground.

“Ughh—!”

Agony writhed through Hoeun’s body, his face twisting with pain. His ears squealed high-pitched like birdsong. Dust choked his nose and throat raw, his eyes stinging so he could not open them.

“Unhh…”

Shaking his head frantically, he tried to stagger upright. Through the ringing in his ears, new sounds broke through—screams of dozens echoing around. The dust slowly settled enough to see.

The first thing Hoeun did was look for Jung-woo.

“Jung-woo! Jung-woo, are you hurt?”

The boy had buried his face deep in Hoeun’s chest, trembling like a cornered bird. A red scratch bled from his ear, but otherwise—thank heaven—he was unscathed.

Hoeun breathed relief, pulling himself painfully to sit up. As sight cleared, he lifted his gaze—

“….”

The sky.

Though he still sat within the hospital, the sky stretched wide above. For a long moment, his mind balked. Windows had always been smeared in blood, gray and filthy, blocking any clear view of outside. But now—blue autumn sky, clear and bare, pierced down upon him. And a soft wind whispered cool across his forehead.

Only after that broken stillness did it sink in:

The walls were gone. Not vanished—but destroyed. The hospital itself had collapsed.