Joon-ho and I watch the scene unfold on the drone's grainy feed, keeping our distance emotionally and physically from the violence below.
The small grocery store bearing its owner's family name seems to have become a target for a ragged band of looters. They likely assume it hosts vital supplies, being on the town's main street.
We don't recognise the elderly couple who attempt to defend their store from the intruders. The man and woman scream for the attackers to leave while their son grapples unsuccessfully with the mob at the entrance.
"Too many for him to stop," Joon-ho observes clinically as we note the son gets beaten savagely by the looters.
We exchange no words of intervention, remaining impassive witnesses from afar. This family and their store are strangers to us. Getting involved risks revealing our presence here or stumbling into further violence.
So, we simply track the camera, monitoring the situation with detached focus. The elderly owners struck down inside their shop. Goods and food supplies cleared from shelves into the looters' eager arms. One woman sprays a skull emblem on the storefront before the group disperses, their bags full of pillaged goods.
"Infected nest - a death mark for whoever's left inside," I say. Joon-ho grunts in acknowledgment.
Soon, our drone has reached its signal limit. As the link cuts out, we pack up without a word, leaving the victims to their fate.
As the looters ransack the store and attack the helpless owners on the grainy drone feed, Joon-ho shakes his head. "Should we do something to help?"
"No," I reply firmly. "It's not worth the risk of exposure or altercation with those marauders."
Joon-ho nods reluctantly as we watch the violence continue to unfold onscreen. "I know, but it still doesn't feel right to just stand by."
I grimace in understanding. "I know, but our priority has to be self-preservation out here. We'd be over our heads confronting that armed group. And we can't compromise our secure position unless absolutely necessary."
The elderly store owner cries out as the bald looter strikes him across the face. Joon-ho averts his eyes before meeting my resolute stare.
"You're right. It's just hard to override the instinct to help against those odds," he admits.
"Believe me, I fully get that," I reply with an edge in my tone. "But we'll conserve more lives overall by keeping our haven safe and undiscovered. It's about the greater good now."
I zoom the drone camera, examining the storefront in detail as the gang finally withdraws, bags stuffed with goods. "We'll keep monitoring remotely though. If they drawn infected here, it could threaten the whole area."
Over the next few days, we remotely observe the small grocery transform into a battleground via the drone's camera.
The first looter gang returns repeatedly to gradually strip the shelves bare, each time dealing more violence to the beleaguered owners. Other survivor groups notice the activity and start showing up, arguing over the dwindling spoils.
Joon-ho and I watch the predictable conflicts unfold onscreen. Harsh words turn to shoving between two men fighting over a bag of rice. A woman clubbing another with a shelf plank after a screaming row over sweets. Stockpiling supplies becoming an excuse for descended pent-up rage.
The beleaguered shop owners have sealed themselves in the back room, not risking further assaults from the agitated mob their store has become.
Joon-ho tries to convince me again we should intervene as injuries and minor clashes mount.
But I refuse. "We'd just get drawn into and overwhelmed by the chaos ourselves," I insist. "Trying to be heroic peacemakers won't prevent the violence genie being out of the bottle already."
So we continue our bird's eye surveillance as the scale of confrontation builds. Another killed after a vicious beating with a pipe wrench sparks a frenzied stampede for the exits. The shop left a bloodied mess of overturned shelves and spilt food after the mass brawling.
No infected yet, but chaos breeds chaos. I've seen these paranoid, territorial reactions too many times as civilised cooperation crumbles. And how rapidly it descends into this animalistic free-for-all over diminishing provisions. This crisis squeezes the worst instincts from human nature as we regress in conduct.
Joon-ho cedes monitoring to me finally, seeing the hollow look in my eyes reflecting a species staring into the survival abyss. Perhaps we mere individuals cannot reverse the tide. But at minimum I vow to protect our refuge from reflecting the savagery I've witnessed brewing out there.
As the violence engulfs the grocery store on the drone camera, my mind wanders elsewhere. Securing more antibiotics has to be the priority for our continued survival.
The meagre haul from the three small pharmacies we rooted before only granted a brief supply buffer. Winter will bring sickness that could overwhelm those limited reserves.
I scan the drone footage for the small family-owned pharmacy on the town's outskirts we identified earlier. Still seemingly deserted and hopefully not yet cleared out by other foragers. Hitting multiple smaller sites minimised our exposure risk before. It's worth trying again.
"We should make another cautious run to grab more antibiotics while things stay relatively quiet out there," I tell Joon-ho, drawing his attention from the screen. "Before disease or desperation drive scavengers to sweep the remaining drug stores clean."
Joon-ho nods thoughtfully. "Good call. We worked well as a team last time. Let's prep for another quiet mission soon."
"This next supply run, we may encounter hostile survivors," I warn Joon-ho bluntly as we gather gear. "The situation is more volatile and resources more scarce everywhere."
Joon-ho stops and meets my sober gaze. He sees the edge in my eyes - the readiness to meet threats with whatever force proves necessary now.
"You mean we may need to kill other living people if threatened?" he asks quietly.
I nod. "I don't take that possibility lightly either. But others are growing more desperate and ruthless, too. If it's us or them..."
I trail off, but we both understand the rest. Joon-ho swallows hard, then nods in resignation.
"I don't relish becoming violent killers either," I continue. "But defending ourselves is the priority if we cross dire paths. I need to know you can act decisively, too, if required, as a team."
Joon looks at me evenly for a long moment before replying "I may struggle taking a life. But for us, if all other de-escalation fails...I will do what it takes."
The words carry weight that age us both. But we are simply reflecting this darkened world we inhabit.
"Let's hope fortune favours us then," I reply gruffly.