JH Group

As we make our way back to the relative safety of our shelter, the pieces of today's puzzle continue to swirl in my mind. The familiarity I felt with the traders wasn't mere déjà vu—it was recognition, a thread stretching back through the fabric of my past lives, connecting me to memories of a world long lost.

The sight of those traders, their methodical demeanour, and their unmistakable insignia—it's all too familiar, a vivid echo from one of my past lives. Back then, JH Group rose from the ashes of a crumbling world, asserting themselves with a ruthlessness and efficiency that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. Their dominion had been almost absolute, their influence sprawling across the remnants of civilisation.

Rumours had swirled around their stronghold, a bastion of order and authority amidst chaos. Ulleung Island, they said, had become their fortress, a place where the conglomerate could consolidate, plan, and perhaps even prosper in isolation, far removed from the strife and turmoil that gripped the mainland.

But are these traders the harbingers of a similar resurgence? Has JH Group managed to claw its way back to power, using the same strategies and locations that served them in another life? Or is this a different iteration, a response to a world that has changed irrevocably since the days of their former glory?

Scepticism gnaws at me. The past, after all, is a different country, and history does not repeat itself so neatly. Yet the parallels are uncanny, the implications profound.

Once we're securely inside, I turn to Joon-ho, who seems eager to debrief and unwind from the day's tensions. But there's a revelation burning within me, demanding to be shared.

"Joon-ho," I begin, my voice steady despite the churn of thoughts. "I recognised the traders today, not their faces, but who they represent. In one of my past lives, they were part of the JH Group."

"I'm not sure, but…"

"But?"

"What if someone or some people in JH Group also go through the same cycle of reincarnation like…"

Joon-ho leans back, the implication of my words dawning on him. "You think someone within JH Group could be like you? Having memories, knowledge from before?"

I nod slowly, the theory crystallising as we speak it aloud. "Yes, it's a possibility we can't ignore. If JH Group is indeed a haven for someone with our... unique perspective, it could explain their resilience, their strategic edge. They might be planning, operating with insights gleaned from past cycles, just as we are."

The weight of this possibility hangs between us, daunting yet undeniably logical. Joon-ho's brow furrows as he processes the ramifications.

"Have you ever," he starts, pausing as if to choose his words with care, "in any of your past lives... have you ever encountered someone who you thought might be going through the same... reincarnation experience as you? Someone who seemed to carry knowledge or wisdom beyond their time?"

The question hangs in the air, stark against the backdrop of our solitude. I let out a slow breath, my mind casting back across the myriad lives I've lived, the countless faces and stories that have woven the tapestry of my existence.

"No," I reply after a moment, my voice tinged with a mix of certainty and regret. "No, I haven't. There were times, of course, when I met people who were remarkably intuitive, or wise beyond their years, but nothing that ever convinced me they were experiencing reincarnation like I am."

"But it seems like this time, a lot of evidence is talking about the same thing," he muses, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

I nod, feeling the weight of his observation. "Yes, it's different now."

I pause, letting the idea resonate within the cramped confines of our shelter. The notion that JH Group, or any entity for that matter, might possess an understanding of reincarnation, let alone harness it, adds layers of complexity and urgency to our quest for answers.

"If JH Group is indeed delving into the mysteries of reincarnation, studying it, perhaps even exploiting it..." My voice trails off, the implications sprawling and vast.

The room's quiet deepens, a reflective space where the crackling of the fire is the only sound punctuating our shared resolve. Joon-ho's next words slice through the silence with pragmatic clarity, grounding our wide-ranging speculations.

"Let's focus on figuring out the mysterious group first," he suggests, his voice steady and imbued with a sense of immediate purpose. "Understanding their motives, their actions, and their knowledge about the infected will give us a solid footing. Once we have that, we can navigate the larger mysteries with more confidence."

I find myself nodding in agreement. The tangible threat, the one we can observe and potentially understand, should indeed take precedence. In a world rife with unknowns, it's prudent to tackle the questions we can answer.

As I glance around our shelter, observing the determined faces of my companions, I'm struck by the stark contrast to my previous existences. Here, in this life, amidst the ruins of a world gone mad, we've created a semblance of stability, a beacon of hope. It's a foundation I've rarely known, and its value is immeasurable.

Time, it seems, is on our side—a luxury I've not always been afforded. In my past lives, urgency and immediacy often clouded judgment, forced rash decisions. But now, we have the opportunity to be methodical, to plan and strategise. There's no need to plunge headlong into the unknown, to risk the safety we've painstakingly built on the whims of curiosity or the lure of potential answers.

Survival is our priority, maintaining this haven and protecting the lives entrusted to my care.

"Let's check out the nuclear site tomorrow," I say.

"Agreed," he responds, his voice resolute, betraying none of the unease that such a mission might rightfully inspire. "We need to know what's going on there."

With our plans quietly reaffirmed, we continue our nightly routines in silence, each lost in thought about what the morrow might hold. Once settled under the meagre warmth of my blanket, the only sound that fills the air is the rhythmic breath of two souls bracing for the unknown challenges that await with the dawn.