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It’s been two weeks since Jeondohyeong committed terrorism against me. During the first week, I wrote the Pillage Manual, and the next week, I wandered the city spreading knowledge. That means my work is done.

I distributed the Pillage Manual without holding back, and now the zombies are sharing lighter usage tips among themselves. Even if I die and disappear, evil will remain in the world.

And so, the final week.

I hid in a corner on the first floor of a building, staring blankly at the dull concrete ceiling.

“What should I do now…”

One week left to live. All my tasks are done. What should I do while waiting for my end? Or should I even wait? Why? Shouldn’t I seek out my end myself?

My death should be my choice.

I narrowed my eyes and sank into thought.

‘Should I raid the Survivor Zone? If luck is on my side, I might be able to kill Rider Zero.’

I don’t need to kill humans like cops or archers. They’re pillagers. If left alone, they’ll kill plenty of people on their own.

But Rider Zero is different. She values human connections. She’s the one who actually proposed the idea of an alliance. Who knows how far she’ll go?

Of course, the chances are slim, but maybe it’s possible. Even that faint hope must be crushed.

I kept thinking like that for a while.

Then, footsteps echoed around me, and like fate, Rider Zero’s voice reached my ears.

“He must be around here somewhere. We need to find and kill him quickly.”

Her voice, filled with anxiety. Then, another voice, as if comforting her, was heard.

“Wouldn’t it be okay to leave him? From what I’ve heard, he’s already infected with the virus. That bastard’s doomed anyway. We can wait until he turns into a zombie and then kill him.”

“No. I thought about waiting for him to fall too, but look at the situation now.”

Rider Zero’s voice grew closer. The sound of footsteps approaching near the window where I was hiding.

“He set the city on fire, taught zombies how to use lighters, and spread that horrific document to people. I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have waited. I should’ve cut him off earlier. If I had…”

I smirked, holding a handgun, and stuck my head out the window.

“If you had, you’d already be dead.”

“You!”

Rider Zero, without a helmet, and a helmeted Rider, startled, aimed their guns at me.

I took a good look at Rider Zero. Her roughly cut short hair, her eyes shining with hatred and regret as she aimed her gun at me.

How ironic.

I, who severed connections, spread knowledge and evil to humans and zombies. Rider Zero, who sought to connect, regrets not cutting me off sooner.

In a way, we influenced each other.

“Long time no see. How’ve you been?”

When I greeted her casually, Rider Zero gritted her teeth.

“How’ve I been? After what you’ve done, you ask how I’ve been?”

“Not well? Good.”

We used to speak formally to each other, but now all pretense is gone.

“Why are you doing this? If the snow hadn’t fallen in time, the whole city would’ve burned. No, even now, zombies are setting fires everywhere! Survivors are hunting us!”

“Do I need a reason?”

I blinked innocently. Do you need a reason to hate and despise people? Or to wish for the world’s end? It’s just who I am.

For a moment, cold killing intent and hatred filled Rider Zero’s eyes.

“Right. You’re that kind of person.”

I sank into thought for a moment. Maybe I don’t have to kill Rider Zero. Maybe I can turn her into a bad person too.

Before Rider Zero could pull the trigger, I quickly spoke, smirking.

“I’m grateful to you. I learned a lot from you.”

“What?”

I poured venomous words, filled with malice.

“Connections. They’re a powerful weapon. I was wondering what to do at the end, and I remembered your words. So I gave lighters to zombies and that document to survivors.”

Rider Zero stared at me with dilated pupils, and I grinned, spreading my arms wide.

“Now you can’t trust people. Can you approach people to recruit them? What if they’ve received my Pillage Manual? What if someone like me, hiding their true intentions, is among the people you gather?”

What I spread was doubt and distrust.

If the Chairman used the virus to create physical distance between people, I created mental distance with doubt and distrust.

Satisfaction and accomplishment filled my chest. I continued speaking, feeling ecstatic.

“Oh, you know about the gas station fire? The cops paid me to do it. See, when people connect, they can do worse things than when they’re alone, right?”

Rider Zero’s eyes sank, devoid of any romance or goodwill.

“…”

She pulled the trigger without a word, and a bullet hit my torso. I screamed in pain and quickly hid behind the wall.

“That hurts!”

Thanks to the bulletproof vest, the bullet didn’t penetrate, but it hurt like hell. It felt like being hit in the stomach with a hammer.

But my voice was drowned out by the continuous gunfire. It was almost like a barrage.

I laughed.

‘Rider Zero will change too.’

She’ll become more like the average survivor of the apocalypse. Distrusting people, killing them if necessary.

That’s good. Rider Zero’s potential has been crushed. The potential that required impossible dreams, visions, and beliefs. The potential to form a massive group, to lead many people, similar to the Pastor.

I crawled, changing positions, playing a brief game of tag in the building before escaping just as more alliance members arrived.

***

Because I revealed my exact location once, all sorts of people swarmed like bees. Dangerous moments came several times.

I ran from cops searching the building I was hiding in, my location was exposed by drones flying above, and stray bullets grazed my face.

Still, I laughed and continued playing tag with them.

I went down to a subway station infested with zombies, using them as meat shields, took advantage of pillagers trying to steal cops’ guns, hid among piles of corpses risking frostbite, and sometimes set buildings on fire.

It felt like escaping from a detention center.

I ran around excitedly, feeling like I’d rediscovered my初心, and finally, the time came.

Three weeks after infection.

“Finally…”

I returned to Villa Street, shaking off the people. They probably didn’t expect me to return to my original residence.

I looked around my ruined home. It had become a real ruin from lack of maintenance, and it seemed the alliance or other survivors had turned it upside down. It was a complete mess.

Snow had piled up through the broken windows, and furniture lay shattered and scattered.

A ruin where no one lives. A chill that pierces to the bone. But it’s my home. The home where I holed up, dreaming of being a Scenario Writer.

I walked around the house, feeling sentimental.

“It’s not bad to end it here.”

The time to turn into a zombie is around three to four weeks after infection. I calmly checked my bag.

I’d distributed all the Pillage Manuals and lighters. Only a little food remained. More than enough to meet my end.

I sat on a thrown-about mattress and reflected on the past year.

So much happened. So many people I met. The events I experienced and the people I faced influenced me, knowingly or unknowingly, shaping who I am now.

Professor Kim, who gave me materials, the Pastor of Hope Church, the boss of the Japanese restaurant, the paranoid uncle. Many leaders of the alliance and the criminal companions I gathered.

What I learned from them, what I lost, the destination I arrived at after racing like a car with broken brakes.

‘I really raced through it all.’

Scenes flashed by like scenery through a speeding car’s window. My memories suddenly stopped at the farewell scenes with my criminal companions.

Jeondohyeong died by my hand. Park Yang-gun is probably wandering the city looking for his family. Sajihyeok walked away, heading out of the city. The Deceptive Mercenary did the same.

It wasn’t a bad life.

I even achieved all my final goals. I made this city harder to live in. I made winter harsher.

And so, one day, two days, time passed.

“Nothing left here, right?”

“Just move on. Last time, the alliance cleaned it out. It was that lunatic’s base.”

Scavengers passed by.

“How long do we have to look for this guy? Isn’t it past the time he should’ve turned into a zombie?”

“I don’t know. The higher-ups want us to find him, even if he’s a zombie. Or his corpse. Maybe for propaganda.”

Alliance members searching for me passed by.

“Keeek!”

A wandering zombie horde settled in a nearby villa.

“What?”

I blinked. It’s almost four weeks. Why haven’t I turned into a zombie yet? Am I immune?

Logically, the symptom onset period isn’t completely over. But baseless hope and rational doubt surged.

‘Am I immune? Or was Jeondohyeong bluffing? Was I infected when I contacted zombies? What’s going on?’

The desire to live filled my mind, but then my life flashed before me.

I lived faithfully as a pillager during the apocalypse. As Rider Zero said, I lived by severing connections. I killed those who lived well. I killed indiscriminately. I attacked churches and alliances that could’ve thrived.

I can’t betray this life.

I laughed, remembering Sajihyeok’s parting words.

“Maybe it’s possible…”

Maybe I’m immune or have antibodies. Maybe I’m the hope to end the apocalypse.

That’s why I have to die now. I can’t leave even the possibility of hope. No, the very existence of that possibility must be erased.

Then, a commotion broke out outside.

“Keeek!”

“Kieek!”

Zombies screamed and scattered. Glancing out, the building was on fire. Someone must’ve misused a lighter, and now it’s consuming the building.

The flickering flames strangely expanded, filling my vision.

I got up and left the villa.

“Kieek…”

The zombies looked disappointed, staring at the villa. They sensed my presence but ignored me since I wasn’t wearing a mask. Instead, they stomped their feet, watching the burning building.

But one zombie looked at me and gave a strange smile.

“Kuhik.”

It was the Cross Zombie. The one I used as a virus generator, tied up like a cross, bullied by kids, and took revenge.

The Cross Zombie approached me, pulling out a knife, but I ignored it and took step after step toward the building spewing flames and smoke.

The Cross Zombie couldn’t bring itself to follow me.

Under the zombies’ gaze, I climbed the stairs one by one, finally facing the blazing flames.

A pillager’s life is like a flame. It leaves only ashes and corpses in its wake, and it dies if there’s no fuel to burn.

I paused for a moment, then smiled and threw myself into the flames.

‘It was a life without regrets.’

No regrets. I did all I could. The possibility of antibodies, if it even existed, disappeared before it could be confirmed. This death is also my choice.

My vision, dyed red like blood, gradually darkened as consciousness faded. I laughed until the end, and at some point, death came like sleep.

 

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