Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 162.2: The Bridge (2)
I once read in a magazine that the biggest difference between men and women lies in how they perceive outcomes versus processes.
According to it, when facing a situation, men focus solely on the result and act accordingly, whereas women place more value on the process that leads to that outcome.
That theory might be as oversimplified and discarded as blood-type personality models or the MBTI hype that followed, but one thing is clear: the world certainly doesn't operate on logic that only values men's result-oriented reasoning.
Even though the conclusion—that the bridge must be destroyed—was already decided, we still had to meet with the people at K-Bridge face to face.
The journey itself was pleasant.
We weren’t packed into a rattling, suffocating armored vehicle, nor were we in a loud and dangerous helicopter. Instead, today’s transportation was a boat cutting smoothly through the river's current.
It was bigger and better equipped than the one we used to get to Ganghwa Island previously.
One side of the river showed pale gray fog, the other devastation. As we moved into the saltier regions of the Han River, we saw the skeletal remains of K-Bridge and the small island built beneath it, stacked with prefab structures like a woven puzzle.
This was K-Bridge—and the home of the Bridge People.
Beside the island, small non-motorized boats floated in the water, fishermen casting and pulling up nets over the still-unfrozen river.
We climbed up via a maintenance ladder reaching from the bridge piers.
“Ay, what’re you talking about. No. Not gonna happen. Why would we?”
The leader of the Bridge People made his hostility toward us clear from the very start.
He didn’t give his name or even offer basic civility, and that alone told us we would never convince this man, no matter what we said.
“Monsters will be heading here soon.”
Since it was tiring even for me to speak with someone like this, the task of negotiating fell to Na Min-gyu, a government official.
In his early thirties, he had a harmless-looking face but was known for his firm convictions and clean execution. He had even handled the factory strike mediation recently.
“Not sure if you know, but monsters dislike water. Paju is directly north of here, right? The rift there has multiple monsters gathering. Soon, they’ll head this way. Now, I’m not saying they’ll definitely cross this bridge. I can’t know that. But if even one or two show up, can you handle them?”
Sensing the negotiation had already collapsed, Na Min-gyu spoke plainly.
But the Bridge People’s leader wouldn’t even consider the possibility.
“They won’t come. What, you think anyone really lives here? You’re talking about Hanam and Misa, right? We’re not idiots. We know monsters can’t survive long outside the rift. You only care about this bridge because you’re worried about your safety if monsters come around the flank.”
The man then stormed off as if to reinforce his refusal to engage.
“No matter what you say, we won’t listen. We already talked to someone way more respectable than you before this.”
“And who might that be?”
Cheon Young-jae asked with a faint smile.
The man glared at him from the side, voice low.
“Kang Han-min.”
We inspected the Bridge People's settlement on top of the bridge.
At the entrance, a massive stone wall stood like a fortress, built from concrete rubble, wrecked vehicles, dirt, and random debris. Behind it hung a large demolition hammer suspended from a crane-like structure.
“That’s our zombie hammer.”
One of the locals noticed my gaze and spoke proudly.
He pointed to a part of the mechanism—large rotating chains driven manually by a group of people turning a crank wheel.
From the look of it, the spinning iron ball crushed zombies by smashing into their heads and bodies.
“You use that to fight zombies?”
I asked, examining the brutal tool.
The man grinned with pride.
“We had more than our share of them around here.”
“How many?”
“There was once a siege with over ten thousand.”
Others chimed in:
“This place stands out too much. All kinds of bastards have come after us, but none of them managed to bring the bridge down.”
“Even remnants of the Legion came with mortars, but that crap didn’t faze us.”
“We’ve got something to protect. We don’t need your help.”
I raised a hand to stop Cheon Young-jae from responding. It was pointless. These people wouldn’t listen no matter what we said.
One man, somewhat more sympathetic, glanced around nervously and then whispered:
“You’re here to blow the bridge, right? They’ll never allow it.”
“Why not?”
Cheon asked.
The man looked north.
“They’ve got their reasons. Things happened here too.”
Na Min-gyu handed him a pack of cigarettes at the right moment.
The man gave him a look of approval, slipped the pack into his coat, and continued:
“We’ve already picked everything clean on the southern side. Every building, every room. But up north—there’s still untouched territory. No one’s lived there since the bridge went down.”
He exhaled with a cigarette between his lips.
“In the end, it’s all about profit. We don’t call it money anymore. We call it resources. But it’s the same thing.”
He looked east.
“I’ve heard rumors that some scavengers have been spotted up in the Gangbuk area. Could be those thugs.”
Yeah. That tracks. Scavengers have been running wild lately.
Once he had a few puffs, I decided to ask my real question.
“They say Kang Han-min’s people repaired the bridge. That true?”
The man glanced around again. Na Min-gyu handed him two more packs of cigarettes.
But the man held up three fingers.
Na Min-gyu turned to Cheon Young-jae for help, who reluctantly gave up his own pack.
“...Don’t know what they’re thinking, but they sure seem interested in Paju. Saw them drive that way a few times.”
Three packs of rare, pre-war manufactured cigarettes had bought us information—but it wasn’t worth much.
With bitter smiles, we descended the ladder again.
“They’ve got confidence.”
Na Min-gyu looked around with a cigarette dangling from his lips.
“It’s a solid settlement.”
I agreed.
People might scoff at the name Bridge People, but this group had built a uniquely stable base among the Han River survivors.
They must have poured everything into it.
They had turned it into a proud, livable place.
And that’s why they could stand tall even before a group as powerful as the so-called Korean government.
But in the end, their fate would be decided by others.
*
“I’m sorry, but Savior Kang Han-min is currently in meditation.”
That was the seventh time we had requested a direct line to Kang Han-min.
According to them, he was engaged in a 24-hour meditation.
Even the internet doesn’t run that long.
“So, he’s got no intention of talking to us,” Kim Byeong-cheol muttered.
“Damn it. What kind of savior is that?”
A monster horde had departed from Paju.
It was a mid-sized group we designated as ZA-33.
Recon drones, kept at extreme range to avoid monster interference, confirmed the group consisted of eight mid-sized types and four small ones.
What made this group dangerous was its route.
Unlike other hordes that veered southeast from the rift, ZA-33 was heading straight south—toward K-Bridge.
Though they paused intermittently, as monsters often do, their trajectory toward K-Bridge was clear.
We notified K-Bridge of this, but after our last negotiation, they ignored every word.
“So. What now?”
The meeting’s topic was how best to demolish the bridge.
Not whether to blow ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) it—how.
Some hardline Legion officers suggested immediate aerial bombardment to destroy the section repaired by Kang Han-min’s people.
I looked at Woo Min-hee.
Expressionless.
She was clearly focused on what would happen after this battle.
Her joke about coming to stay in my bunker was starting to feel serious—and I felt a chill run down my back.
Another suggestion came in:
“Attacking right away might give them political ammunition. Let’s wait until the monster horde reaches the bridge—when they feel the threat too. Then destroy it.”
This came from the more moderate administrative officials like Na Min-gyu.
I checked Woo Min-hee’s expression again.
Less displeased, but still blank.
Even this plan didn’t sit well with her.
We were, after all, still Koreans. It wouldn’t look good for the "Korean government" to attack other Koreans.
But maybe worrying about the after is a sign of hope.
It’s because we think there’s a tomorrow that we bother debating what to do about it.
As the murmuring died down, all eyes turned to me.
So did Woo Min-hee’s—and, unfortunately, Kim Daram’s death-glare.
But I had to back Woo Min-hee here.
“I agree with Director Na’s proposal. But let me suggest something further.”
As confused eyes locked onto me, I continued:
“Let them blow the bridge themselves.”
I glanced at Woo Min-hee.
A faint smile hovered on her lips—unlike her reactions to the other proposals.
*
To be honest, I agree with the criticism: this plan is time-consuming, annoying, and uncertain.
From a result-oriented male perspective, it’s inefficient, risky, and probably won’t work.
But I believe we should try everything we can.
Whatever Kang Han-min’s motives are, it’s clear he doesn’t see us favorably.
And even though Woo Min-hee has blocked interference for now, the truth is: the Jeju government—heirs to the National Crisis Management Committee—outranks New Seoul's provisional government unless we rewrite the entire national organizational code.
So her refusal to obey is technically insubordination.
Cheon Young-jae wants to cut ties with Jeju altogether, but that’s easier said than done.
They’ve got airpower—and Kang Han-min himself.
We can’t win by force.
Nor should we.
So we should avoid giving them any excuse.
“We’ve returned to talk again. The monster horde is now confirmed to be approaching.”
We rode a military boat back to K-Bridge.
This time, the Bridge People greeted us with armed men, fully displaying their suspicion.
“Whether you believe it or not, a mid-sized horde is heading this way. It’ll take around eight hours. You can verify for yourselves then.”
My amplified voice echoed through their speakers, vibrating in my chest as I watched for their response.
They didn’t answer.
But one man stood out—our cigarette-loving informant.
I addressed him directly.
“We’re leaving an explosive charge. It’ll destroy the temporary structure connecting to the north. If monsters appear in eight hours, please use it.”
Soldiers loaded the explosives into a rubber boat and pushed it toward them.
The boat drifted slowly across the river.
People on the bridge stared warily, making no move to retrieve it.
Perhaps waiting for orders.
“Let’s just blow the whole thing.”
Kim Byeong-cheol muttered through the comms.
I didn’t answer. I just looked at their makeshift fortress—the bridge walls, the shantytown, the well-maintained island, the boats.
And I said,
“...That’s land they built with blood and sweat.”
I don’t know if those words moved them.
But someone finally got into a boat and hauled the explosives in.
The moment of fate drew near.
Naturally, we had backup.
Drones armed with Hellfire missiles hovered above, and rocket boats waited on the banks.
The rest was up to them.
In the pale light of dawn, a gray figure emerged from the ruins beyond.
A monster.
Flattened silhouette, thick carapace—looked like a mid-sized Cataphract Type.
Even without its reverse field deployed, old de-turreted tanks wouldn’t pierce it unless they hit the brain case directly.
Only domestically-modified tanks might make a dent.
But even that wouldn't matter. A barrage of 155mm shells levels the playing field.
Still, a small settlement like theirs couldn’t hope to handle one alone.
As the cold wind blew across the river, we watched to see what they would choose.
BOOM!
KA-KRACK!
Honestly, the result wasn’t a surprise.
Not after they accepted the explosives.
KWA-KOOM!
Through thunderous crashes, the structure connecting the bridge shattered.
Chzzz—
The radio crackled.
“This is Refugee Shelter #188. Speaking on behalf of the so-called Bridge People.”
Someone on the bridge was waving.
“Thank you for your cooperation.”
The bridge was severed.
But a broken connection was mended.
“Sunbae.”
Woo Min-hee contacted me personally.
“Good job.”
Chapter 162.2: The Bridge (2)
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