Zombie Apocalypse Whiteout

Zombie Apocalypse Whiteout - 4

Ep.4 One Month Ago (1)

Bang—! Swoooosh—!

A loud gunshot echoed, immediately followed by the heavy rush of a supersonic bullet slicing through the air.

“Ugh!”

Jin-woo squinted one eye and let out a slight grunt. The firing sound of this .338 Lapua Magnum was always overwhelming, no matter how many times he heard it—even here on this beach where the crashing waves made plenty of noise.

Ziiing—!

Two seconds later, through the scope, he saw the buoy wildly shaking. The left corner, hit hard by the bullet, had shattered dramatically, while the remaining energy transformed into a powerful vibration.

“Hit.”

Muttering quietly in his mind, Jin-woo pulled the bolt to chamber the next round.

Click-clack!

With a solid metallic sound, the spent casing ejected, and a fresh bullet slid into place.

Shake—shake—

Meanwhile, the buoy continued to sway violently from side to side and back and forth. The waves were especially rough at this time, making the movement even more intense and unpredictable—for most people, anyway.

“One, two...”

Timing the buoy’s movement carefully, Jin-woo squeezed the trigger again.

Bang—! Swoooosh—!

Once again, the Lapua round cracked through the air like thunder and shot out like lightning. The bullet’s speed instantly surpassed 900 meters per second, and two seconds later, another corner of the buoy exploded and violently shook—the right corner this time.

“Look at that son of a gun! He's totally crazy!”

Chris, watching through a telescope behind him, muttered in awe. Jenny quickly translated his words.

“Look at that! He says you’re totally crazy.”

“I can at least understand that much now, but I’m not that crazy…”

Jin-woo turned around and replied.

“This rifle was made to hit targets that far, after all. Hey, Chris! This gun... um, long distance good!”

He lightly tapped the heavy stock of the PGM338. He tried to express himself in English, but the words didn’t come out quite right—he just couldn’t remember how to say “originally.”

“Nah~. Not in this windy condition. And besides, the target is a mile away, floating on wild waves. I've never seen anything like this even in the Delta team. It's more like magic.”

Chris shook his head firmly, folding his arms in clear disagreement. Jenny followed his posture and translated again.

“He says this rifle isn’t meant to be used in windy weather like this, to hit a target floating on rough waves over a mile away. Even the Delta team has no one who can do this. He says it’s more like magic.”

“Still not there yet. It’s not like it’s perfectly comfortable—like it’s part of my body. Different from the K-2.”

Jin-woo replied casually. The inside of Big Island was safe and well-stocked, but the moment they set foot on the mainland, they had to fight countless zombies. On top of that, there were crazed mercenaries and the private army of the Taeyang Group. No matter how much he trained, it never felt like enough.

“Well, thanks for the compliment. Thanks, Chris! I like this gun! I owe you, bro!”

Jin-woo patted his chest and pointed at Chris. The man with the scruffy beard was a former Delta Team sniper who had taught him how to use the rifle, how to calculate long-range ballistics, and other precious skills.

Chris had willingly shared invaluable information without hesitation—how to adjust the scope’s baseline for different distances, how to compensate for wind, and how to conduct complex coordinated suppression with a team.

Thanks to that, Jin-woo had improved immensely over the past few months. Chris also genuinely enjoyed shooting practice with him and drew inspiration from Jin-woo’s rapid-fire skill.

“I owe you, big time, bro! Your shooting made my heart beat again in this fucking apocalypse.”

Chris jabbed his finger at Jin-woo and gave a thumbs-up. He meant it. When they first met, Jin-woo had hit six wooden posts at 300 yards in just two seconds—an amazing feat. Seeing that shot, Chris and his teammates began to believe that miracles still existed. That was a far more direct and powerful proof that Terra had raised something special in Jin-woo—and it was the best motivation.

“Thanks to your shooting skills, he says he actually feels alive in this messed-up world. So, he owes you instead... Now, enough of this bromance talk, time for me to teach you!”

Jenny, who had just translated Chris’s words, grabbed her K-2 rifle. Jin-woo’s English wasn’t great yet, but over the past few months, he’d been able to communicate back and forth endlessly with Chris, all thanks to Jenny’s fluent interpretation. In return, Jenny demanded special shooting lessons from Jin-woo.

“Jenny, you’re really dedicated. Training is good, but I’m worried your hands will get ugly.”

Jin-woo half-joked, half-serious. Jenny from Pink Punch, their endlessly sexy image didn’t fit with rough, calloused hands. Just hearing that rumor alone would make six hundred thousand soldiers in the Korean army cry blood tears. But...

“Not being able to protect the person you love hurts way more than messed-up hands.”

Jenny tied her long brown hair tightly with a rubber band, showing firm determination. She looked... truly beautiful. Especially that big chest and slender waist—after months together, Jin-woo still couldn’t get used to it.

“Alright. Take a deep breath, hold it, put your finger on the trigger. Target number one.”

Jin-woo stood close beside Jenny as the lesson began. Target one was a wooden buoy floating on the water about 50 meters away. The shabby zombie drawing spray-painted by Yu-bin had mostly been torn apart and chipped off long ago, but the rough outline was still recognizable.

“Head.”

Jin-woo pointed out the target. After a quick aim, Jenny pulled the trigger.

Bang—! Crack—!

A new hole appeared at the top of the wooden plank, right where the zombie’s head had been drawn, splinters flying wildly. Jin-woo immediately gave the next command.

“Head!”

Bang—!

Another bullet hole appeared nearby.

“Well done.”

Jenny had definitely improved a lot with steady practice over the past months. Jin-woo thought she was probably more accurate than most army trainees.

But that didn’t mean she’d suddenly become an expert sharpshooter who could take down dozens of zombies alone on the streets. Even the elite special forces couldn’t manage that.

“Okay, now move forward a step and shoot the chest.”

Jin-woo clapped his hands sharply. Jenny took two quick steps forward and fired.

Bang—!

This shot landed around the middle, between the head and chest. Seeing she missed the chest cleanly, Jenny fired a second round immediately.

Bang—! Crack—!

This time the bullet hit the chest area. After finishing the three-step advancing shots, Jin-woo applauded her with a short clap.

“Good job!”

“Good shooting, Jenny!”

Chris also showered praise, and even Sam-sik, who was watching from behind, chuckled and showed his encouragement. But Jenny didn’t look very satisfied.

“Phew... still got a long way to go. Even hitting a target this close is tough.”

Lowering her gun, she sighed lightly. She was frustrated that she was still lagging behind. Jin-woo opened his eyes wide, surprised by her comment.

“You’ve only been learning properly for less than three months. This is amazing! Think about the sheriff or Sam-sik—they can’t hit well even shooting while lying down. And you know, actually, shooting at close range between 30 and 50 meters happens way more than long-range shots.”

“Still, I’m just barely hitting while walking forward one step. It’s hard enough to hit a still piece of wood floating on water, so how the hell do you kill zombies running around everywhere at once?”

Jenny engaged the safety on her K-2 and turned to Jin-woo. Progress was slow, and she worried they wouldn’t be reliable backup soon enough. She never wanted to see her loved ones covered in bruises again. Nor wanted to see them risking their lives as bait...

Just thinking about it made her eyes well up in secret. To protect something, you have to grow stronger in proportion to how precious it is.

“For situations like that, this is better.”

Jin-woo pointed to the FN P90 lying nearby. Its short barrel, relatively light weight and recoil, plus the 50-round magazine—though the ammo was a different caliber, it had many advantages in close quarters. But Jenny shook her head.

“They say K-2s are way easier to find. I’m practicing for when bullets get tight. Just teach me the basics.”

Stubborn and diligent as always. No wonder she’d endured such harsh training and climbed to the top of the brutal Korean idol market. Jin-woo shrugged.

“The basics are the same for any gun. First, check your position and direction of movement. Decide the order to shoot in, then... picture it in your head. Then you shoot in that order. Now, imagine this.”

Jin-woo stood behind Jenny, gently holding her arms to steady her and began explaining.

“Targets one through four are roughly the same distance.”

He pointed to the four close-range buoys floating on the water. Though they were spread out in a fan shape, from their shooting spot the distances were about equal.

“Pretend these are zombies. Number three is leading the charge, then four, one, and two behind. From this stance, you shoot first, then turn your body to the right like this, right?”

Jin-woo showed her how to rotate her body smoothly without shaking the rifle by lightly holding her hands.

“Yes! Yes!”

The diligent student, Jenny, nodded enthusiastically.

“No, don’t strain yourself too much. Relax your waist and move smoothly, Jenny. And if you try to aim again after turning, it’ll be too late. When your waist and arms turn together and come to a stop, the muzzle should already be at shooting height. Keep your right foot moving just a little to maintain balance, like this.”

Jin-woo stayed behind her, still holding her arms, explaining patiently.

“What's the tip? What does he say?”

Chris asked, curious if Jin-woo was about to reveal some amazing secret.

Watching from a distance was a sharp gaze.

“That Jin-woo guy...”

The sheriff squinted through the training room window, muttering.

“He understands English perfectly now but keeps asking for a translator? Just to hang around Jenny more?”

“Hahaha, the sheriff’s throwing a tantrum. So childish! The sheriff hates seeing Jin-woo holding Jenny’s hand, that’s why! Heehee!”

Sam-sik sang teasingly, grinning widely, but the sheriff didn’t even acknowledge him.

“I’m just logically suspicious. What’s that got to do with jealousy, you idiot?”

Yu-bin sided with Jin-woo. Since she’d worked through high school and hadn’t really studied, it’d be strange if her English was strong. The sheriff, feeling wronged, counted on his fingers and raised his voice.

“We could’ve just brought that Dani from the ship to interpret! She speaks Korean pretty well! And… after spending every day with Chris for three whole months, why hasn’t his English improved? By now, even if Chris spoke French, Jin-woo would probably get the gist. It’s been three months, after all!”

“Well then, sheriff, what about you? You trained with Jimmy’s team for three months—how’s your English?”

Yu-bin fired back.

“Ugh...”

The sheriff groaned, hit right in the nerve. He had indeed done weight training with JL mercenaries, but he rarely used much vocabulary—just shouting “Come on!” or “Two more!” while clapping.

“Can’t be helped. Of us, only Jenny and Terra speak English—and Terra’s not allowed near the shooting range. Jin-woo, just chat and hang out with Terra while you’re practicing. She seems bored, too.”

Yu-bin gave the sheriff a friendly nudge on the shoulder.

Whenever Terra got close to the shooting range, Alex would panic. The deafening noise might cause her mental shock, or so they said. Maybe a bit overprotective, but since the whole world’s hope rested on her, caution was justified.

“But getting too close to Terra… I feel kinda bad toward Jenny. I worry she might get jealous.”

The sheriff blushed just imagining it. The taekwondo girl couldn’t stand it anymore—she jumped off the treadmill and gave him a sharp smack on the back.

“Jealous? What nonsense! She doesn’t care or pay attention to that stuff, dummy!”

“Why’d you hit me?! Ow, that stings! Your hands are so rough!”

The sheriff frowned and reached back, rubbing the sore spot. Getting smacked by a national taekwondo champion really hurt—and it was just out of reach.

“Yeah, that’s how you play it.”

Yu-bin left the sheriff and taekwondo girl to their scuffle and walked out of the training room.

“Where to?”

Sam-sik asked. Yu-bin pointed downstairs.

“I’m gonna tell Alex again that I’m leaving tomorrow.”

No intention to challenge the chain of command, but Alex was still the boss here—so it was necessary to keep her informed. Yu-bin went down a floor and opened the door to the lavish dining hall, calling out to Terra.

“Terra.”

“Yes.”

Terra, drinking tea with Gyu-yeong, turned with a warm smile. There was always something bittersweet about her delicate beauty.

“Come with me to the comms room for a moment. I’ve got something to tell Alex.”

Terra nodded gracefully.

“Sure.”

“Hey, Yu-bin! Learn some English! Stop using the translator excuse to hog the sisters!”

Gyu-yeong, clutching a digital camera, sulked. Probably shooting a pictorial titled ‘Fifteen Summers, Beauty, and Survival’. Whenever Pink Punch got involved, the sheriff and that guy both turned into fools.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll put up with it today and won’t bother you for a week.”

Yu-bin raised his hand apologetically. Gyu-yeong’s face instantly hardened.

“Huh? A week? ...Are you heading back to Seoul tomorrow, bro?”

Yu-bin nodded calmly.

“Yeah, got a deal set up.”