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Time flew by, and November arrived. The air turned cold, hinting at the coming winter, and our stockpiled resources began to dwindle.

Even with the crops prepared by the Townhouse People, it wasn’t enough to be fully self-sufficient. And as for continuing pillaging activities, there were no survivors left around.

Of course, there were those pesky flies bothering us, but like any other flies, they weren’t easy to catch and kill.

“Couldn’t catch up. They’re really fast at running away.”

A companion wiped the sweat from their forehead and spoke to me. It was a hunting group sent out for moderate tracking and killing, but they shook their heads, pointing at the bicycle beside them.

“A bicycle alone won’t do. Those guys know the terrain well around here, and they’ve set up simple traps inside buildings or along escape routes.”

“They’re that good at running away?”

When I asked in surprise, the hunting group comrades almost simultaneously poured out their words.

“Once they’re out of sight, we have no idea where they went.”

“It’s impossible to predict where they’ll exit from inside a building. Whether they’ll come out the other side or hide inside and then run away… To catch them, we’d need all our comrades mobilized.”

Tracking them didn’t seem easy. Concrete buildings themselves were excellent fortresses, and the city, packed with dense concrete structures, was a confusing maze.

A terrain optimized for provocation and escape.

To deal with this, we’d need to form a much larger encirclement than the enemy, get drone support, or use precious fuel to operate motorcycles.

I frowned and adjusted my mask.

“Can’t even spray insecticide…”

Those nerve-wracking flies buzzing around. If we were to mobilize a large combat force, there’s the issue of the night watchmen’s fatigue and the Townhouse’s defense.

Perhaps it’s time to use human wisdom. Like a farmer’s snail trap, or a machine that lures and kills pests.

Or maybe just burn them. A thought that had been circling in my head suddenly resurfaced.

‘Maybe I should just set a fire and run away before it rains.’

If it rains, we can’t use wildfires as a weapon. So, it might be better to strike first with fire before the rain comes.

But if I do something like that without external pressure, even my most extreme comrades might be shocked…

There’s a difference between setting a fire to overcome the pressure of a strong enemy and setting a fire when you could just run away.

“Then, I’ll go in.”

As I was thinking, the hunting group comrades began to nod off one by one. Exhausted from running hard, their legs trembling, they headed back home.

Watching their retreating figures, I sighed deeply in frustration.

“Fight decisively, what’s all this nonsense.”

The thought of using wildfires as a weapon had been revealed, and the alliance wasn’t giving any openings. Indeed, the most vicious and evil methods should be hidden. Keep them well concealed and strike when the enemy least expects it.

***

The flies’ provocations didn’t care about time.

During the day, they fired shots near the mountains or the commercial areas close to the Townhouse, and at night, they took advantage of the darkness to approach, trigger the alarm, and then flee.

At first, the sentries reacted nervously and stayed alert, but as time passed, they began to let it slide. They had grown accustomed to the stimuli.

Late at night, I went up to the rooftop of a house that served as a lookout post. A comrade leaning on the railing spoke casually.

“Who’s there?”

“A survivor from the Townhouse. Here for revenge.”

“What? …Oh, it’s you, boss. You scared me. I almost shot you.”

The comrade, who had jumped in the dark and was fumbling with his rifle, muttered weakly. I went over to his side and looked around.

In a world without electricity, the faint light from solar-powered houses couldn’t illuminate the entrance. The road, which should have been lit by streetlights, was now pitch black.

“Did those guys come again?”

“Not sure. Can’t see well.”

The sentry rambled on.

“The wind shakes cans and paper, and sometimes wild animals pass by. Even if those guys shake things from afar and run, it’s hard to notice.”

That’s true. In the dark, you can’t even tell zombies from people.

“So, you only get alert if the alarm sounds repeatedly or if it’s close?”

“Yeah. We usually start paying attention from just outside pistol range.”

Should we charge up an electric lantern? Or use a mobile phone? We could manage some lighting somehow.

As I pondered our current electricity usage, I idly pulled out a pistol and a hammer from my pocket.

“Then, I’ll go set up an ambush for a bit.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. Can’t sleep.”

The reason hunting animals is hard is that they’re difficult to find and they run away quickly.

But after days of enduring the flies’ provocations, I’ve roughly figured out their patterns. The locations they come to provoke. At night, they come close to the Townhouse.

“I’ll be down there, so don’t shoot recklessly.”

“Got it. Oh, you should tell the other sentry too.”

“Will do.”

After leaving instructions with the two sentries, I tapped the alarm device, and with the sound of the bell, I hid near the entrance road.

***

It’s November. The sound of crickets has become less frequent. A few crickets, confused by the season, still chirped, but now they’re almost silent.

So, crouching in the darkness near the farthest alarm device, all I could hear was the clinking of the alarm device swaying in the wind.

Looking up at the sky, it was filled with stars, as if they were about to pour down.

‘It’s cold.’

Winter was approaching steadily. The season of death. The world covered in pure white snow would become a silent city of death.

The city’s resources depleted, the unbearable cold, people slowly drying up and freezing to death. In the stillness, people would suffer from famine and meet a cold death.

I stared at the dark gaps between the stars and chuckled.

‘The world won’t change much just because spring comes after winter.’

To restore the world our Chairman changed, a vaccine or cure would need to be developed, but the vaccine only existed in rumors passed from mouth to mouth.

Somewhere in the world, there’s a secret lab of the Immortal Company with the vaccine, a secret organization is hiding the vaccine to control the population, only key government figures have been vaccinated and are staying in safe zones…

Just rumors to listen to for fun.

Continuing my thoughts alone, I soon snapped back to reality and focused on the perimeter.

‘It’d be nice if the flies came while I’m out here.’

Clink, clink, the sound of cans and paper tied to strings. Sometimes it sounded like the wind was causing it, but occasionally, the paper would suddenly jingle.

If I listened carefully, I could almost imagine movements.

Like a wild animal hiding in the bushes, or the sound of weeds rustling in the wind, or sometimes, like a person moving in the dark.

‘I really can’t tell.’

I quietly gripped my pistol and blinked.

The impenetrable darkness was like a blank canvas, making me imagine things that might not even be there.

Simple sounds colored by imagination became all sorts of beings.

It was a moment when I realized why night vision equipment is so important. A particularly noticeable sound reached my ears.

Clink, clink, clink, the continuous ringing of the bell. It was the alarm device near me.

‘Are they here?’

I roughly aimed my pistol but waited a moment, as it could just be my imagination.

After a brief hesitation, I reached out and grabbed the string. Then, I shook it vigorously, making the alarm device emit noise like it was possessed.

Amidst the noise, I heard a human breath. A short, startled voice.

“Uh.”

It’s a person. Then, they must die.

I opened my mouth wide and let out a roar from deep within.

“Kreeeek!”

The roar, mimicking a zombie, clearly revealed the presence of the startled opponent. The sound of shoe soles scraping the ground, the frantic sound of drawing a weapon, the sound of a gasp.

The opponent’s weapon was clearly a pistol. I hid behind the streetlight where the string was tied and fired my pistol repeatedly.

Without knowing the exact position, I fired widely, scattering shots.

“Ugh.”

A voice stifling a scream. The sound of hurried footsteps retreating.

“Missed.”

I peeked out from behind the streetlight.

It’s too dark to track. If it were brighter, I could’ve followed the blood trail. Regretfully, I waved my pistol and slowly returned to the lookout post.

The sentry at the post stood up abruptly, looking down the road, then turned to me.

“Did a zombie approach? Did you defeat it, boss?”

“Huh? No, no. The zombie sound was me, and the shots were mine too. One fly got shot and ran away.”

“Ah.”

The comrade let out a short, bewildered sound, then let go of the machine gun.

“So, they won’t come closer anymore?”

“Not sure. As long as they’re following police orders, they’ll keep moving. But I’ve come up with a rough plan, so I’ll handle it myself from now on.”

I had a rough strategy. Since they’re provoking us, they’ll keep approaching. If we set up ambushes and traps in likely positions, it shouldn’t be hard to catch them.

I waved to the sentry and headed back home.

 

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