Chapter 131

“Ugh, what…! Gah!”

Gyeong-oh struggled to remove Han-seo’s hand that was gripping his neck. But the more he resisted, the stronger the pressure became as Han-seo tightened his grip.

Gyeong-oh’s face turned red as the bl00d rushed to it.

“What are you doing?!”

Seo Chang-min, who had just come out from inside, quickly grabbed Han-seo’s wrist. Chang-min had enough strength to match Han-seo, so although it was difficult, he could still pull them apart.

Standing between Gyeong-oh, who was coughing roughly, and Han-seo, whose eyes were still cold and threatening, Chang-min looked at the situation with a confused expression.

“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?”

Han-seo didn’t answer. Instead, he just stared at Chang-min silently. His sharp gaze, like a knife, made Chang-min even more tense.

Chang-min turned his head and asked Gyeong-oh, who was behind him.

“Hyung, what happened?”

Chang-min believed there must be a clear reason for Han-seo’s sudden aggression.

From what he had seen so far, Do Han-seo was someone whose thoughts were hard to read, but he always followed Jun-seong, the leader, without question.

No—rather than just being obedient, it seemed like he didn’t care about anyone except Jun-seong. If it weren’t for Jun-seong’s request, Han-seo might not have even bothered to help rescue the rest of the group.

But now, that same Han-seo was showing killing intent toward one of their own.

Someone who wouldn’t even react unless provoked was now staring with burning eyes. There was no way this was for no reason.

Chang-min tried asking Gyeong-oh since Han-seo wasn’t answering, but Gyeong-oh only kept coughing and avoided eye contact.

“I-I don’t know. Cough! He just suddenly grabbed my neck…”

“You don’t know?”

Han-seo scoffed coldly and swung his foot. After stepping into the room, he closed the door behind him before speaking again.

“You betrayed Kang Jun-seong and even tried to kill him, but you’re saying you don’t know?”

“What?”

Chang-min’s eyes widened as he looked back and forth between Han-seo and Gyeong-oh. The red in Gyeong-oh’s face drained, leaving him stiff and pale.

“N-no! It wasn’t me!”

Gyeong-oh shook his head frantically, repeating his denial while slowly stepping backward.

The strong denial, the way he kept avoiding eye contact, and his instinctive retreat as if he wanted to escape—

Seeing Gyeong-oh’s reaction, Chang-min grabbed his shoulder with a firm expression.

“Hyung, tell the truth. What did you do?”

“H-huh? I told you, it wasn’t me… Why are you acting like this too…?”

As soon as he was pressured, his voice weakened, and his eyes darted around anxiously.

Chang-min already knew Gyeong-oh had a timid personality. Tightening his grip on Gyeong-oh’s shoulder, he watched as fear took over his face. The pressure from Chang-min wasn’t just physical—it carried a clear message.

With a low voice, Chang-min warned him.

“You should tell the truth while I still respect you as my hyung.”

“Ugh… I, I…”

As Gyeong-oh’s face crumbled, Chang-min felt bitterness in his mouth, as if he had swallowed a mouthful of herbal medicine.

He didn’t know what had led Gyeong-oh to this, but at the very least, Han-seo’s words had to be true.

From the time they met the new group on the bus and arrived at this motel, Gyeong-oh had been acting strangely. His eyes were dark, and he barely spoke. Even after washing up and resting in the same room as Chang-min, his complexion remained bad. When spoken to, he only gave absentminded replies, as if he was listening with one ear and letting it out the other.

When asked if he was feeling sick, he said he was fine. But it was obvious that something was off—like he wasn’t fully there.

There had been so many things happening today, including nearly dying, so at first, Chang-min thought Gyeong-oh was just exhausted.

But now, it seemed like there was another reason.

Yet, Gyeong-oh kept his lips tightly shut, refusing to say anything. Even under this crushing pressure, it wasn’t easy to admit everything and confess.

Han-seo, watching him silently, pulled something out and tossed it.

Gyeong-oh’s eyes widened as he saw the small object rolling toward his feet.

Just as he reached out to grab it, Chang-min’s hand moved first.

“This is…”

Holding the object, Chang-min frowned.

It was a black, square device with a small, flat button in the center, about the size of a grain of rice.

It was thin, about the size of a fingertip, but had a visible seam, suggesting there was something inside. Most likely, it was a mechanical device connected to the red button.

On one side of the square device, there were a few tiny holes, like air vents, but they didn’t seem necessary. In fact, considering there was something inside, these holes might even cause malfunctions.

As Chang-min examined it closely, a thought suddenly struck him—it looked like a black wiretap.

The size was slightly different, but wiretaps were also small, flat, and encased in black. The material of the case was the same, so it didn’t seem completely unrelated.

Han-seo, still staring at the pale-faced Gyeong-oh, spoke to Chang-min.

“Press it.”

After checking Gyeong-oh’s expression, Chang-min pressed the button.

A very faint sound came from the device.

He brought the side with the tiny holes closer to his ear, listening carefully.

Then, he finally understood what the sound was.

It was a little past 4 p.m. on the seventh day.

Hwang Gyeong-oh had secretly dismantled Son Nam-seop’s phone, carefully taking it apart.

Inside, he found two hidden black square devices.

One was fitted perfectly inside the SD card slot, leaving no extra space, and the other was attached to a flat, narrow gap on the main board.

After carefully disassembling them, Gyeong-oh tilted his head in confusion.

One was clearly a wiretap, designed for collecting sound.

The other was a tiny, ultra-compact recorder.

‘This is a strange setup…’

The location of the mainboard, where the recorder was hidden, was right next to the extremely sensitive internet receiver. It wasn’t just simple plastic—if a small device like a tiny recorder had been placed there, the internet connection wouldn’t have worked properly.

But the person who installed it wouldn’t have cared at all.

After all, once the zombie outbreak happened and the internet was completely cut off, no one would find it strange.

Whether the owner of this phone planted it themselves or someone else secretly did it, it didn’t matter.

With a tense face, Kyung-oh carefully placed the wiretap, which was still barely functioning, into the drawer of his hospital room. He made sure not to make any noise as he put it away. Only after dealing with the wiretap did he pick up the recorder.

Ignoring the tiny hole designed to let sound escape, he pressed the button on the exposed recorder as if stripping it bare. Even with the case removed, the sound was so faint that he had to press his ear directly against the output to hear it properly.

—You found it well.

As soon as he listened closely, an unwanted compliment came through. Kyung-oh thought the voice sounded familiar, and he focused on the next part of the recording.

—I figured you would be the first one to hear this, Hwang Kyung-oh.

The person who hid the recorder seemed to already know exactly who would find it and listen to the recording.

How?

Kyung-oh’s eyes landed on the disassembled phone when he heard his name spoken so clearly by the person on the recording. At the same time, he realized whose voice it was.

A voice he had only heard once but could never forget.

A terrifying person he never wanted to meet again.

The owner of this recorded voice was undoubtedly “Nam Ki-hyuk,” the murderer from the video left in Jun-sung’s phone.

The moment he realized that, he felt a cold chill run down his spine.

If it really was Nam Ki-hyuk, then he must already know.

He must know that Kyung-oh had survived alongside Jun-sung in his dreams and acted as his ally.

If Nam Ki-hyuk was like Jun-sung said—someone who could see and remember dreams—then it wasn’t strange that he knew Hwang Kyung-oh. He might even know what Kyung-oh’s special skill was.

Thinking back, this was the same person who confidently left a message for Jun-sung on the research lab’s CCTV, just as if he knew he could get inside the lab without even seeing the director’s face at the bl00d center.

If he had Kyung-oh in mind—the only person in Jun-sung’s group who could detect something suspicious about this phone and take it apart—then all of his strange actions made perfect sense.

Kyung-oh swallowed dryly, his body tense, as the voice on the recorder continued, this time with a faint chuckle.

—I’m offering you a reward.

The recorded voice spoke casually.

—A chance to save your mother’s life.

Invisible, sharp ice seemed to pierce through Kyung-oh’s frozen spine. Then, an overwhelming fear and shock, as if all the bl00d in his body had drained away, violently shook his entire mind.