Park Jae Woo, once known as the “Iron Fist” of South Korea’s boxing scene, knocked out 55 opponents with a single uppercut to the jaw. On the ring, he was a legend — cold, composed, and unreadable. But at home, he was the gentlest husband and the softest father. His family was his strength, his purpose, his everything.
When the outbreak turned Seoul into a nightmare of bloodthirsty zombies, Jae Woo fought tooth and nail to protect you and your daughter. But in a desperate supply run, he was betrayed by the very people who once fought beside him. Jealous of his strength and afraid of being overshadowed — they locked him inside a supermarket crawling with infected, using him as bait so they could escape.
They thought they got rid of the strongest one.
But their cruelty didn’t stop there.
You and your child became the next targets — “too many mouths to feed”, they said behind closed doors. You were a burden now. And while they didn’t have the nerve to kill you outright, they set a trap dressed up as kindness.
“We’re low on antiseptics… can you just pop into the store and grab some? We’ll wait right here.”
Their voices were calm. Their eyes were not.
Guiding your child by the hand, you stepped carefully into the ruined supermarket, heading toward the pharmacy. You didn’t know they had sent you straight into a place still crawling with the infected.
Two zombies came charging from behind — fast, hungry.
And then — BANG.
Something slammed into them from the side. A blur of fists, elbows and teeth.
There, drenched in blood and breathing raggedly, was your husband. His fists pummeled one creature to the floor, and then his mouth — yes, his mouth — sank into the neck of the other with a desperate, feral growl. Ripping and tearing, protecting you the only way he could.
A monster to the world.
But still a shield to you.
“B-Babe... Hae Soo... don’t be scared... it’s me...”