The shaking had subsided, but Han-min kept running fast, weaving through the people scattering in panic. His mind was in shambles, deeply worried about Chan-hoo. When he arrived home, the basement they lived in was still intact, though the windows were shattered.
He opened the door hurriedly and found Chan-hoo lying on the floor, trembling and crying, his eyes filled with terror. Without hesitation, Han-min pulled the boy into a tight embrace. Finally, Chan-hoo cried out loudly, calling "dad... Dada..." over and over.
"I'm sorry, Chan-hoo... You were so scared, weren't you? Dad is here. Nothing is hurt, right?" Han-min said while calming his son.
"House... s-shook... Dizzy, dark... Chan-hoo is scared. Want to go with dad!!" he wailed.
Han-min's hand continued to stroke Chan-hoo's body slowly, wanting to calm the boy in his arms. But the disaster didn't stop there.
Suddenly, heavy rain poured down, drenching the entire city of Seoul. The emergency broadcast chirped again on his phone—even the local speaker announcements could be heard.
"Attention to all residents, evacuate immediately. It is feared that the earthquake that just occurred was only the beginning—"
The announcement only made Han-min more restless. Moreover, their house was in total darkness because the power had gone out. While carrying Chan-hoo, he quickly searched the closet for a small jacket, diapers, and his medicine.
The heavy rain hindered his steps, but Han-min stepped out of the house anyway—with the small jacket already on his son.
Han-min ran, carrying his child through the pouring rain. Several other people were also running for their lives. He tried to ask for information about the evacuation from the people he met, but no one answered—they even blamed him for being a nuisance.
He focused entirely on finding a safe place, following the stream of people running through the chaos. His arms were locked around Chan-hoo, shielding him from the torrential rain.
Han-min was drenched to the bone; his shoes felt like lead, soaked through with every step. His mind raced—he worried the evacuation center might be an open field, which would be death traps if a major aftershock hit.
Yet, amidst the madness, Han-min remained convinced that a simple earthquake was the only disaster they faced.
He scanned his surroundings. The area around the GS25 convenience store was swarming with people looting for supplies. His instincts urged him to follow the crowd, but his thoughts always snapped back to Chan-hoo.
What if the boy was hungry? The air was turning frigid as the rain refused to let up—perhaps inside that store, there was a herbal remedy to keep the little one warm.
"Dad... cold," Chan-hoo whimpered, huddled in his father's embrace.
The crowd was so chaotic it nearly knocked Han-min off his feet. He pushed forward, scavenging for whatever was left, and luckily found a piece of bread tossed in a corner. He shoved it into his pocket instantly, fearing someone would snatch it away. Then, he spotted the herbal drink he was looking for on the floor.
But the immense stress finally took its toll; a sudden dizziness surged through him, and those black silhouettes he had seen before flickered across his vision again.
Suddenly, his body went weak. He slumped to the ground, still clutching Chan-hoo. It was the worst possible time to collapse, and he didn't care if he was blocking anyone's path.
Chan-hoo began to wail, his cries intensifying as he saw his father nearly fainting, while a painful ringing echoed in Han-min's ears.
Then, an aftershock struck—he felt it instantly. His focus snapped back to Chan-hoo, who was sobbing uncontrollably. Fortunately, it was only a moderate tremor; no debris fell.
As soon as the shaking stopped, Han-min forced himself up, gripping Chan-hoo tight, and continued his search for the nearest evacuation center.
Finally, they reached higher ground—an evacuation point announced through loudspeakers echoing across the city streets.
Soldiers immediately rushed to help Han-min, directing him to a temporary sleeping area. The place was a sea of people, a mix of sorrow and fear huddled together under the relentless rain.
Hours passed, and night fell. The rain eventually stopped, leaving only moderate flooding in its wake. To everyone's relief, the earth had stopped shaking for the time being.
But Han-min felt no relief.
Chan-hoo's body was turning dangerously cold—he was shivering violently, his skin pale and his temperature dropping far below normal.
Han-min had already changed the boy into dry clothes and given him the herbal drink he found, but the boy's temperature continued to plummet.
Panic seized him. He scrambled to find a soldier, telling them that Chan-hoo was suffering from severe hypothermia. Unfortunately, there were no doctors on site. All they could do was provide several thick blankets, wrapping Chan-hoo from head to toe.
"He's not getting warmer! He's still shivering!" Han-min shouted, his voice cracking. He rubbed Chan-hoo's small hands, trying to generate heat, but the boy remained unresponsive, his lips turning a faint shade of blue.
As he waited, he overheard a woman nearby: "Is this the end of the world? It gives me the creeps. I saw people running earlier like they were being chased by monsters."
"You're telling me," the man beside her replied.
"If it's true, then this disaster is just like the one back in the 1500s. Not zombies, but human-shaped beasts that rose from the sea."
The woman slapped his shoulder in frustration. "Stop it! That's just a myth."
Han-min ignored them. His only focus was Chan-hoo, whose breathing was becoming shallower by the minute.
By one in the morning, the situation turned critical. Chan-hoo's shivering had stopped, but not because he was warm—his body was becoming stiff and dangerously still.
Terrified, he carried Chan-hoo to the guards again. Han-min's face was a mask of fear as he looked at the soldier, searching for a shred of hope.
"How can there be no doctor here? My son is freezing to death!" he shouted, his anger suddenly boiling over.
"We understand your anxiety, sir. We are doing our best. Doctors haven't been evenly distributed yet—they will arrive tomorrow," the soldier replied calmly.
"He can't wait until tomorrow! He's barely breathing. Are you people stupid?!" Han-min raised his voice, his breath hitching from grief and rage.
At that moment, Han-min's eyes caught sight of He-joon—who had just arrived, his clothes still dripping from the flood. The same man he had selfishly chased away just yesterday. He-joon rushed over, his face etched with worry.
"Han-min, are you okay? Thank God, this—"
"My son, He-joon. He's freezing... he needs a doctor," Han-min interrupted, his voice thick with panic. His eyes, once filled with rage, were now brimming with a desperate hope directed entirely at He-joon.