Chapter 109


The betrayer changed his attitude in an instant. I looked at him with bewildered eyes.

‘What.’

Honestly, this survivor group was not an easy opponent. Their determination to die together, their sense of distance to kill even if shot, and their wit to turn a stove and boiling porridge into weapons in a short moment.

Each one was a seasoned survivor…

‘No. This betrayer just found a way to survive. We don’t touch informants. Quick thinking.’

Anyway, it worked out. This can be used. As I subtly lowered my handgun, the betrayer quickly ran over and started babbling.

“That, those guys, they’re pure evil! Ah, I won’t take any incentives. Just kill them.”

“Hey! Are you crazy? What are you doing?”

A fight broke out among the survivors. They frowned deeply, glared at each other, threateningly swung blades, and raised their voices.

I watched the verbal fight between the betrayer and the survivors with interest.

“Those who should live must live.”

“Have you lost your mind? If you give us food, you’ll die too!”

“Yeah, die by our hands! I’ll kill you no matter what!”

“No. You’re the ones who’ll die. Don’t you see their guns?”

Internal division was common in the apocalypse, but I’ve never observed it from a spectator’s perspective. Mostly because I played the betrayer.

In the midst of the harsh exchange of curses, I raised both hands. The argument stopped. In the gazes of the betrayer and survivors looking at me, I smirked.

“Internal conflict? Fun. Clean up your mess first.”

I shoved the betrayer hard. He stumbled back and fell clumsily. A survivor’s knife pressed against his neck as he looked up at me with trembling eyes.

‘Good. Fight each other.’

I aimed for the gap while they fought. I planned to kill them safely by ambushing when their nerves were distracted.

But the situation didn’t go as I expected. The capabilities of survivors who lived through the apocalypse are not to be underestimated.

The survivor holding the knife muttered coldly.

“Friend. I’ll forgive you for betraying.”

The knife pulled up sharply. The blade dug into the neck. The betrayer frantically got up. A panicked voice quickly spilled from his mouth.

“Uh, uh. Thanks. I must’ve gone crazy for a moment. Please remove this knife. I’ll help kill those wicked pillagers.”

“Yeah, help a bit. Can you take a bullet for us? We’re friends, right?”

The betrayer’s pupils dilated in that moment. The blade slashed his neck. Whether it precisely cut a blood vessel or not, blood gushed out like a fountain.

Simultaneously, another survivor moved. Bang, he kicked the wood stove, and burning logs burst out, lighting up the darkness like fireworks.

“I’ll block the bullets as the betrayer! Run!”

“Get out now!”

Survivors using corpses as shields charged forward, and others dashed towards the window.

I smirked and put the handgun back in my pocket.

‘Just one? The others are all running away?’

It’s a pity the ambush failed, but this isn’t bad either. My eyes fixed on the knife, veins bulging on my arms as I exerted strength, leaning forward, stomping the ground.

“Don’t shoot! Bullets are precious!”

The distance between the survivor with the corpse shield and the blue knife and me closed in an instant. I kept my eyes on the knife. Just block the knife. My companion can handle the killing.

“Die!”

The knife aimed precisely at my neck and stabbed. I knew it. My head, torso, and arms were protected, so the only exposed weak points were my face and neck.

I jumped up and took the knife with my torso. The police bulletproof vest pressed hard. I reached out and grabbed his hand, hugging him tightly.

The hand holding the knife was tied. We rolled around on the floor, embers flickering.

“Kill him quickly!”

“You, you!”

The survivor kicked the corpse, flailed his body, and desperately shook the knife hand, but I didn’t let go. The sound of the blade scraping the vest was eerie.

My heart pounded. Adrenaline surged from my brain. The thrilling sensation of walking a tightrope between life and death.

“How dare you touch our leader!”

“Damn…”

A companion slashed the survivor with a knife. Blood spilled onto my clothes. I quickly got up and finished him off with a hammer.

Perhaps because it was such a dangerous task, a strange laughter flowed out. The room glowing with embers looked beautiful.

The embers slowly trying to extinguish the fire, the companion stomping them out, another rummaging through the house, and another throwing furniture out the window.

“What happened to the others?”

A companion by the window answered in an ambiguous voice.

“I think we missed a few. I can’t see well, so I don’t know the exact number.”

“One. One got away. The rest are lying on the street.”

Park Yang-gun, who had peeked out, answered while pulling his head back. I quickly assessed the situation.

It seems the seasoned survivors had secured an escape route outside the window in advance. But we’re seasoned pillagers too, and we caught all but one.

“Four of you, go out and confirm the kills. Don’t chase the one who escaped. The rest, let’s put out the fire first.”

I quickly stomped out the growing flames. If the fire spreads, it’s over. We need to suppress it early.

***

A few days passed, and it was Chuseok. To create a festive atmosphere, we all opened the warehouse and generously prepared food.

We went to the survivor zone to get meat and eggs, used flour and frying powder with remaining shelf life to make sujebi or kimchi pancakes, and opened the tuna and spam cans we had saved.

Since we used the rooftop stove and brazier, the smell of food vibrated throughout the street.

I stood quietly in the corner of the rooftop, watching my companions.

“Ah. Just onions, green onions, and garlic.”

“This is a feast.”

“What kind of salt is this? Why is it pink? Is it dye? Isn’t it bad for health?”

“Haha. You don’t know. It’s okay not to know.”

“This person is a bit…”

Some companions, who I thought only knew how to kill, also participated in cooking, and their families gathered, sweating profusely as they diligently made pancakes.

This is the epitome of wealth. Without this alliance, such food waste would be unimaginable.

‘This is why we can’t stop pillaging.’

Even the scattered small survivors are suffering from famine. Only the alliance built on pillaging or us, whose profession is pillaging, have some leeway.

This is all the result of our hard work. The wealth of resources obtained by killing people.

I quietly turned and leaned on the railing.

‘But autumn and winter will be harsh.’

The street is empty. We’ve used all the burnable wood and furniture. The distant mountain is also balding. Like a person’s receding hairline, the slopes and trails are revealing bare ground.

People will probably become more vicious. The threat from the survivors we’re dealing with has also increased. They might even desperately attack our resources.

“Bullets. We need more bullets…”

To enjoy a pleasant pillaging life in this world, we need more ammunition.

How to get more bullets.

‘Should we contact the military? Offer to keep the alliance in check? Or the police? In exchange for doing dangerous or dirty work? Raid the police?’

As I pondered, a companion on watch shouted loudly.

“People are coming! Raid! Raid!”

The cheerful rooftop atmosphere changed in an instant. Companions grabbed their rifles. I also frowned and leaned over the railing.

There’s a familiar face.

The human who escaped from the survivor group where the betrayer came from. With eyes burning with something like vengeance, he shouted in a rough voice.

“We came because it smells delicious. You must have a lot, huh?”

***

They came prepared. Prepared to attack us.

They brought carts filled with corpses or bricks as mobile barricades and bulletproof items, and brought firewood and gas torches, seemingly to start a fire.

They even took cover.

Their intention was clear. Intimidation. Dragging it out to make us waste bullets.

Threatening to set a fire and dragging out time to make us waste bullets.

‘That survivor seems to want revenge. The others are after our food? Who are they? How did they gather?’

I looked for Jeondohyeong and Sajihyeok.

“Who are those people?”

“I’ve seen them before on the solar streetlight street. They seem to be survivors living in this area. Not part of an organization.”

“They seem to have gathered spontaneously to take our food.”

The immediate answer.

I adjusted my mask. They’re a pack of wild dogs. Only after our food. No sense of camaraderie, only selfishness that as long as they survive, others can die.

In fact, they’d be happy if others died, as their share would increase.

The companion on watch tightly gripped the machine gun on the other rooftop. We had two machine guns since we handled two squads. One was used on the combat cart, and the other was mounted on the rooftop for defense.

“Do we shoot?”

“No.”

Bullets are more precious than food. Better to give away food than waste bullets.

I smirked and gestured to Sajihyeok.

“Mr. Sajihyeok. Let’s go do some business.”

People with no sense of belonging, poorly armed, and only after food. No need to use bullets against such people.