“What? A health checkup? What’s that?”

“A medical check.”

“Oh. Is that even possible?”

Among my neighbors, the ones whose health concerns me the most are the sniper mother and daughter duo.

After some persuasion, I managed to convince Rebecca to accompany me for the health checkup.

“Camp Dutch Goose.”

Rebecca murmured the name of the former U.S. military base with a gloomy look in her eyes.

“What kind of place is it?”

“A base where tactical nuclear weapons were stored,” I replied, summarizing my limited knowledge.

When the war broke out, the U.S. military swiftly withdrew its strategic assets and evacuated the base.

“My husband was there.”

“Husband?”

“I was in Daegu. He was here.”

“Where is he now?”

“He must’ve gone to America.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I’m still searching for him online.”

Her bloodshot eyes indicated she’d spent all night on the internet, but her gaze remained resolute, fueled by sheer willpower.

Gripping her daughter’s hand tightly, she muttered softly, “I don’t want to raise a daughter without a father.”

I understood.

Looking at her, I spoke sincerely.

“I hope you find him.”

The Medical Checkup

I entered the military base alongside Rebecca and her daughter.

The base, now occupied by Park Cheol-joo’s people instead of the U.S. military, drew considerable attention as I arrived with unfamiliar outsiders.

“Who are they?”

“Foreigners? Are those military uniforms?”

“What about the kid?”

Amidst the murmurs, a man approached me.

It was Park Cheol-joo’s son-in-law, Go Seong-jun.

“Who are these people?”

“They’re my relatives.”

“Relatives?”

Kim Pil-seong tilted his head skeptically as he looked at Rebecca.

“Relatives, really...?”

“My sister-in-law. Or my brother’s wife, if you prefer.”

“Wouldn’t you call her je-su-si?”

“Well, I’m a bit international, so I’m not well-versed in kinship terms.”

Go Seong-jun gave me a look that screamed what does that even mean? but refrained from voicing it aloud.

I let him think I was ignorant.

“This way, please,” he said.

Go Seong-jun led us to the underground facilities of the U.S. military base.

The area was fairly well-organized, with one section transformed into a decent-looking infirmary.

Inside were medical beds, IV drips, and neatly arranged medical tools on silver trays.

Rebecca, who had been muttering complaints, gripped her daughter’s hand tightly upon seeing the orderly medical setup. The sight seemed to instill a sense of trust in her.

“Where’s the doctor?” I asked.

Suddenly, Go Seong-jun donned a white coat, turned on the medical lamp, and equipped himself with a head reflector and stethoscope.

“I’m the doctor.”

He chuckled wryly as he pulled out his phone and showed me an old photo of himself—a university hospital professor.

“Let’s begin.”

The examination started.

Blood was drawn, a cold metal tongue depressor was pressed against my tongue, and my blood pressure and vision were measured. A strange little hammer tapped my knees.

Go Seong-jun glanced at me with a hint of surprise.

“I heard you’ve been living in rough conditions...”

“I’ve been living in harmony with nature.”

“Is that so? Most people who try that end up dead.”

A fair point.

If I were simply thrown into nature, I wouldn’t survive either.

“How am I?”

“You’re in excellent health. As healthy as our chairman, in fact.”

My examination was complete. Next was the sniper mother and daughter.

Rebecca grumbled incessantly, but Go Seong-jun handled her well with his fluent English and knack for soothing people.

I worried she might spout nonsense, but as long as she spoke in English, she didn’t make any mistakes.

Surprisingly, Su, despite being American, struggled to understand some of Go Seong-jun’s more technical terms.

Each time, Rebecca would gently stroke Su’s head and whisper explanations in her ear.

It was a heartwarming sight.

I felt reassured about bringing them here.

When their examinations were done, Go Seong-jun approached me.

“Your sister-in-law and her daughter are relatively healthy. Let’s call them average for this era. However, there are concerns about chronic malnutrition and vitamin deficiencies. We’ll know more once the blood test results come in.”

He rose from his seat.

“The blood test results will take about a day.”

A day.

That felt like a long time.

Feigning nonchalance, I adjusted my belt and casually asked, “Are you heading to Jeju Island too?”

“What?”

“Are you going to Jeju with the chairman?”

“No, I’m not.”

“That plane looks impressive.”

“A Gulfstream. It’s a toy for the world’s wealthy.”

“Who’s piloting it?”

“There’s a pilot. Our chairman also has a pilot’s license from his younger days. Oh, and I have one too—a U.S. light aircraft license, though.”

Talking about planes brought a smile to Go Seong-jun’s face.

“Is your wife going with you?”

His smile disappeared as he shook his head.

“She died in the last bombardment. Along with my child.”

He recounted the horrific loss with a blank expression, devoid of emotion.

It sounded like he was talking about someone else’s life.

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to be. It’s the reality we face. There are countless others who’ve suffered worse. What can we do but accept it?”

He sighed.

“If you’re looking for a place to stay, ask Kim Pil-seong. He might find you a good spot.”

“A good spot?”

“The Corps faction, you know them, right?”

“Of course.”

“They’re always recruiting skilled Hunters. I heard one of your juniors is in charge there. You might even know her.”

“A junior?”

“Yes, a woman. Short, if I remember right. Around your age, maybe a little younger—but definitely not in her early twenties.”

Before I could respond, a woman entered the infirmary.

“Professor, Kim Pil-seong is looking for you.”

“Oh, okay. Just a moment.”

Go Seong-jun excused himself and left.

Before he departed, he turned back to me.

“Oh, the blood test results will be out tomorrow. Stop by again. It’s close by.”

After he left, I rejoined Rebecca and Su.

The two seemed fairly satisfied with the checkup.

Su was holding an ice cream bar, which Rebecca bent down to take a large bite from.

“Mom, you’re so mean!”

Su tried to scold her in English, but Rebecca couldn’t answer properly with her mouth full. Her face twisted in discomfort from brain freeze.

Once the small commotion settled, the two looked at me simultaneously.

“Thank you, Skeleton.”

“Thanks.”

I sent them off first.

They rode their bicycles slowly into the verdant meadow, disappearing into the distance.

As I watched them go, I fell into thought.

The Corps Faction.

Who was this junior of mine that Go Seong-jun mentioned?

Could it be Kim Daram?

The one I’ve lost contact with, whose whereabouts remain unknown—the same Kim Daram who had her radio confiscated by someone else.

Kim Daram was a good person.

She was compatible with me, sharp, and adept at navigating tricky situations.

But she also had a flaw: she held grudges and never forgave easily.

If she had joined the Corps faction, it wouldn’t surprise me.

If she’s alive...

That would be good news.

But why, then, do I feel this cold unease?

The image of the nuclear weapon-like object I saw yesterday lingered in my mind.

And the subtle inconsistencies in the stories I’d heard nagged at me.

Jeju Island. Japan. The plane. The nuclear bomb.

The chairman.

And Kim Daram.

All of it left a bad feeling in my gut.

The atmosphere around me felt so stifling that I needed to get some fresh air.

As I stood to leave, I noticed someone standing at the door.

A tall, middle-aged man in a sharp suit.

It was Park Cheol-joo.

He stood silently, staring at me.

Did he have something to say?

As I watched, he slowly approached.

“Do you have a gun?”

He glanced over his shoulder.

At first, I thought he was looking at one of the armed men, but they seemed utterly indifferent to his presence.

It struck me as odd.

Weren’t bodyguards supposed to pay attention to their charge?

I asked, “A gun?”

“Can you sell me one? Fully loaded.”

“What do you need it for?”

“Leisure.”

“Don’t you have one yourself?”

Instead of answering, Park Cheol-joo reached into his pocket and pressed something cold and heavy into my hand.

It was a gold bar.

“ESFP.”

He said,
"I'm actually an ESFP."

I had no idea what he was talking about.

But his eyes, filled with a strange intensity, desperately begged for the handgun in my possession.

I handed him the gun.

"Do you know how to use it?"

"No."

"This switch here disengages the safety. Press here to release the magazine. I’m sure you understand the basics—pull the trigger, and the bullet fires—so I’ll skip that."

Park Cheol-joo listened to my explanation with unwavering seriousness.

The madness I had sensed earlier in his demeanor was nowhere to be seen.

Was this his true self? The thought crossed my mind briefly.

As he tucked the gun into his coat, he turned his wrinkled gaze toward the plane.

"Ogasawara Islands. Do you know of them?"

"I’ve heard the name."

"It’s a wonderful place. Maybe not the most beautiful, but it’s the one I liked the most. A paradise, you could say."

"A paradise..."

"Do you have a paradise of your own?"

"I’m not sure."

I thought about my bunker—not the dictionary definition of paradise, but in a practical sense, it was the best place I had.

"I like it here," I replied.

"Then that’s your paradise."

"Is it, though?"

A paradise with a toilet in the center—what kind of paradise is that?

"I haven’t found my paradise yet," Park Cheol-joo admitted. "I thought I had created one, but they destroyed it. Not that it would’ve lasted long even if they hadn’t."

"Why not?"

"Because even a so-called paradise starts to show its flaws. And you can’t call a place paradise if you don’t like it, can you?"

At that moment, I noticed someone approaching from the distance—Ji Young-hee.

"A paradise that’s no longer a paradise," I mused aloud.

"Exactly," Park agreed. "And when that happens, it loses all meaning, doesn’t it? If all you see are its flaws?"

"In that case, does paradise even exist?"

"For me, it’s about finding the next one," he said with a wry smile. "It’s an endless journey. You find a paradise, get disappointed, and move on to the next one. Then you get disappointed there, too."

"Sounds like Zeno’s paradox," I offered.

"Exactly. Like Zeno’s tortoise—always just out of reach. But you know what?"

By now, Ji Young-hee had reached us, but Park Cheol-joo barely glanced at her before continuing.

"The search for paradise itself is fun, isn’t it?"

He turned back to gaze at his plane with eyes full of satisfaction.

"Ogasawara. Ogasawara," he murmured like a mantra, as if conjuring the paradise he envisioned.

He walked away, leaving me standing with Ji Young-hee.

After a brief silence, I asked her, "Are you really going to the Ogasawara Islands?"

She nodded.

"Yes, I told you before, didn’t I?"

"When are you leaving?"

"It won’t take long—two days, at most."

"I see."

As soon as I returned to my bunker, I contacted Woo Min-hee.

*

It couldn't have been any other way.

I believed the destination of that plane was Jeju Island.

A fallen corporate tycoon hiding a nuclear bomb inside his luxurious façade, intending to strike a devastating blow against the government of Jeju that betrayed him.

A plausible scenario.

But before addressing the issue, I needed to ask something.

"Jeju Island—it's important, right?"

"Yeah," Woo Min-hee replied absentmindedly.

"Why wouldn’t it be?"

"Can you tell me even a little about what you're doing?"

"All of a sudden?"

Her tone sharpened, her irritation palpable.

Under normal circumstances, I’d have dropped the subject. But not now.

"It’s important."

"Senior, you know your position, don’t you?"

"I do."

"You’re a civilian. I haven’t mentioned this, but people could easily label you a sympathizer with the Gundan faction."

"…Min-hee, I’m asking you as a favor."

She couldn’t see me, but I lowered my head regardless.

There was only silence on the other side of the radio, save for the faint sound of her breathing.

Finally, she chuckled bitterly.

"Park-seonbae. I didn’t think you could ask for favors."

"…."

"Why didn’t you try asking sooner?" she said, her voice tinged with mockery.

I had no response to her taunt. Only silence that feigned repentance.

The heavy silence lingered until Woo Min-hee spoke again.

"Back then, if you’d asked Kang Han-min for help, you wouldn’t be stuck in this godforsaken place. Everyone knew you were more qualified than Lee Sang-hoon. And now…"

A sharp, grating sound suddenly pierced my ears through the speaker.

Was she scratching something with her prosthetic hand?

Such a habit seemed disturbingly characteristic of her. Still, I waited for her response, as unsettling as the noise was.

"…We’re closing the Rifts."

Her words were worth the wait. My heart raced.

"…Is that even possible?"

"They managed it in India with a Rift of the lowest intensity. Although, that was only after 99.8% of the population had already perished."

"…!!"

My fists clenched involuntarily.

If my eyes had been flammable, the fire in them would have scorched my surroundings.

I pictured Lee Sang-hoon standing before me, smirking in that infuriating way of his.

So, in the end, was it him who planned to stab me in the back?

That spoiled rich kid who’d always trailed behind me?

I had to suppress a bitter laugh.

Woo Min-hee hated any background noise during a conversation.

Instead, I channeled the rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins and waited for her next words.

"Kang Han-min and Na Hye-in are working to close the Rifts right now. At enormous cost."

She spoke the truth.

"Don’t post about it online. If you do, I’ll come find you immediately."

"Online? What’s that?"

"Don’t play dumb. Just don’t do it. That’s all."

"Fine."

And if I were to speak the truth, I’d have to meet it in kind.

"I’ve found a nuke," I admitted.

I told her everything—about Park Cheol-joo, his private plane, the Chinese, Kim Pil-seong, the Ogasawara Islands, and the nuke.

Her response was succinct and heavy.

"It’s Jeju, then."

She scoffed.

"Their goal must be to drop the nuke on Jeju."

I’ve never liked Woo Min-hee, but I’ve often found her thoughts aligned with mine.

She chuckled darkly.

"Could this be Kim Daram’s idea?"

"Kim Daram? She’s with the Gundan faction?"

"Probably."

"You don’t know for sure?"

"Doesn’t it smell fishy to you?"

I could almost picture her cruel smirk.

She was likely sitting in her dimly lit lab, her prosthetic hand flexing lazily as she smiled to herself.

"She sang about Jeju, didn’t she?"

"…She did."

"If she couldn’t have her paradise, she’d rather destroy it. Doesn’t that fit someone like her? Someone as two-faced as Janus?"

That did sound like Kim Daram.

If she was alive and had joined the Gundan faction, she’d likely want to destroy the people who abandoned her—the betrayers who had fled to Jeju Island.

Burning the paradise she once dreamed of—it felt plausible.

"Thanks for the info. It’s a good thing you reached out. If you hadn’t, we might never have known."

"…The feeling’s mutual."

"There’s going to be a battle, Senior. Stay out of it. You could die."

There would soon be a war in my territory.

A calamity I had summoned.

But there was no other way.

I couldn’t afford to lose Jeju Island.

After all, Jeju held the paradise my comrade Lee Sang-hoon had left behind.

A place called hope.