The fire extinguisher's weight felt perfect in Min-jun's hands as he faced the remaining infected. The young businesswoman in the torn suit was reaching for him with manicured nails that were now broken and bloody, while behind her, more creatures pressed against the widening breach in the door.
But Min-jun's enhanced hearing was picking up something else—the sound of the train's brakes engaging with increasing force. The rhythmic clacking of wheels against tracks was slowing, and through the windows, he could see the countryside beginning to resolve into individual details rather than a blurred rush of green and gold.
*Unscheduled stop approaching,* Rama's tactical mind noted. *Opportunity to establish better defensive positions, but also risk of external threats.*
The infected businesswoman lunged forward, and Min-jun met her charge with a precise upward strike of the fire extinguisher. The metal cylinder caught her under the chin with enough force to snap her head back and crush her windpipe. She dropped immediately, dark fluid pooling beneath her skull.
*Seven down,* Mad Dog's voice counted with satisfaction. *But they keep coming.*
Indeed, two more infected were squeezing through the breach—an airport security guard whose uniform was stained with substances Min-jun didn't want to identify, and a flight attendant whose professional smile had been replaced by a gaping wound where her lower jaw should have been.
But Min-jun's attention was divided. Through his peripheral vision, he could see that not all the passengers had followed his order to move to the rear of the car. The university student who had frozen earlier was still pressed against the window, catatonic with terror. Worse, one of the twin boys had broken away from his mother and was crawling under the seats, either trying to hide or in some confused attempt to help.
*Multiple priorities,* Rama analyzed. *Eliminate immediate threats, secure the breach, protect civilians, prepare for station arrival. Need to delegate.*
"You!" Min-jun called out to the athletic woman who had been organizing the other passengers. "What's your name?"
"Kim So-young," she replied without hesitation, her voice steady despite the chaos. "Former ROK Army, discharged last year."
*Perfect. Military background means she can follow orders and think tactically.*
"So-young, I need you to get that student away from the window and secure the child. Can you do that?"
"Yes, sir," she responded immediately, already moving toward the frozen university student.
Min-jun turned his attention back to the infected security guard, who was now fully through the breach and reaching for him with hands that still bore the calluses of someone who had worked with them for a living. The fire extinguisher came down on the guard's skull like a hammer, but the man's security helmet absorbed some of the impact.
*Adaptation required,* Mad Dog noted. *Different equipment, different approach.*
Instead of trying to crush the helmet, Min-jun grabbed the guard by the collar and yanked him forward, using the creature's own momentum to drive its face into the metal corner of a seat rest. The impact caved in the infected man's features, and he dropped like a sack of meat.
The flight attendant with the ruined jaw was next, moving with the eerie grace that had once guided passengers to their seats but now carried her toward fresh victims. Min-jun swung the fire extinguisher in a wide arc, catching her in the temple and sending her sprawling across several seats.
*Eight down. How many more in the next car?*
Through the breach, Min-jun could see at least a dozen more infected pressing forward, their moans growing more agitated as they sensed the violence and the scent of fresh blood. But the door frame was limiting how many could come through at once—a tactical advantage he needed to exploit.
*Choke point,* Rama observed. *Classic defensive strategy. Hold the narrow passage, force them to come one or two at a time.*
But first, he needed to secure his immediate area and organize his resources.
"Everyone listen to me!" Min-jun called out, his voice cutting through the sounds of weeping and panicked whispers. "My name is Park Min-jun, and I'm going to get you out of this alive. But I need your complete cooperation."
The train was definitely slowing now, the motion becoming more pronounced as the brakes engaged. Through the windows, Min-jun could see they were approaching a small rural station—a simple platform with a modest waiting area and what looked like a maintenance shed.
*Station means potential escape routes,* Rama noted, *but also potential for more infected if the outbreak has spread this far.*
So-young had successfully retrieved both the catatonic student and the wandering child, herding them toward the rear of the car where the other passengers huddled behind overturned seats. "Perimeter secured," she reported with military efficiency.
"Good. Now I need you to help me barricade this breach. We're going to use the seats as a wall."
The train's seats were heavy but not bolted down permanently—they were designed to be reconfigurable for different passenger loads. Working together, Min-jun and So-young began dragging seats toward the front of the car, creating a barrier across the aisle just behind the breached door.
Two more infected squeezed through the opening—a chef still wearing his white coat and a teenager in a school uniform. Min-jun dispatched them quickly with the fire extinguisher, but he could see the barrier wouldn't hold for long. The infected were pressing against it with increasing force, and the seats weren't designed to withstand that kind of sustained pressure.
*Need a more permanent solution,* both voices agreed.
Min-jun's enhanced vision swept the car, cataloging resources. Emergency supplies in overhead compartments. Fire suppression system controls. Emergency communication equipment. Most importantly, maintenance tools secured in a panel near the rear exit.
"So-young, can you handle crowd control while I secure our defenses?"
"Affirmative," she replied, already positioning herself to watch both the barricade and the other passengers.
Min-jun moved to the maintenance panel, using his enhanced strength to rip it open despite the security locks. Inside were basic tools—wrenches, screwdrivers, a small crowbar, even a compact welding torch for emergency repairs.
*Welding torch,* Mad Dog noted with interest. *Now we're talking about real weapons.*
But Min-jun's tactical mind was thinking defensively, not offensively. He grabbed the crowbar and began prying metal strips from the car's interior framework. The train was built for safety and comfort, not military defense, but every structure had weak points that could be exploited.
Working with inhuman speed and precision, he began reinforcing the seat barricade with metal strips, creating a more solid barrier. The welding torch would let him fuse joints and create something approaching a real fortification.
The train was definitely stopping now, the motion becoming jerky as they approached the platform. Through the windows, Min-jun could see the rural station more clearly—and his enhanced vision immediately picked up problems.
The platform wasn't empty. Several figures wandered aimlessly across the concrete, their movements displaying the telltale signs of infection. Worse, he could see what looked like emergency vehicles parked near the station—ambulances and police cars with their doors hanging open, as if the crews had abandoned them in haste.
*The outbreak has spread this far,* Rama observed grimly. *No safe havens.*
"Sir," So-young called from her position near the passenger group. "The old man is having chest pains. His wife says it might be a heart attack."
Min-jun glanced back to see the elderly passenger clutching his chest, his breathing shallow and rapid. His wife was trying to administer medication, but her hands were shaking too badly to manage the small pills.
*Medical crisis during combat situation,* Rama noted. *Classic triage dilemma.*
*Let the weak die,* Mad Dog's voice suggested coldly. *Focus on those who can contribute to survival.*
*No,* Min-jun decided firmly. *We save everyone we can.*
But even as he made that moral choice, his tactical mind was calculating the costs. A heart attack victim would need medical attention, medication, rest—all things that were in short supply in their current situation. And if they had to evacuate the train, carrying an elderly man with cardiac problems would slow them down significantly.
The train shuddered to a complete stop, the sudden silence after hours of motion creating an eerie quiet broken only by the moans of infected and the whimpering of terrified passengers.
Through the station's PA system, a recorded announcement began playing: "Attention passengers, this station is temporarily closed due to emergency circumstances. Please remain on board your train and await further instructions."
*Automated message,* Rama analyzed. *No human operators left to manage the situation.*
The infected pressing against their makeshift barricade were becoming more agitated, as if the train's stop had somehow energized them. Min-jun could hear them clawing at the metal, trying to find purchase to climb over or around the barrier.
And from outside the train, new sounds were joining the chorus—the moans and shuffling footsteps of infected on the platform, drawn by the noise and motion of the arriving train.
*Surrounded,* Mad Dog noted with something approaching pleasure. *Just the way I like it.*
Min-jun hefted the fire extinguisher again, checking the welding torch's fuel level with his free hand. The real test was about to begin. They had secured their immediate space, but now they needed to expand their defensive perimeter, establish supply lines, and figure out how to keep nearly forty people alive in a world that had suddenly become a hunting ground.
*Time to show them what a real guardian looks like,* both voices agreed.
The station platform was crawling with infected, their car was under siege, and somewhere in the distance, more screams echoed through the afternoon air.
But Park Min-jun had made his choice. This was his fortress, these were his people, and nothing—living or dead—was going to take them from him.
The war for the final car had begun in earnest.
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Every 200 power stone for bonus 2 chapter