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Day 35 of the zombie outbreak.

I witnessed the greatness of slavery and division of labor with my own eyes. The potential of the group as well.

***

The synergy between the professor’s knowledge and the cult’s beliefs was beyond imagination.

“Wow, efficiency…”

I looked at the small hole in the glass window of the door. Originally, it was a study room for high school students or something, but now a group of aunties were gathered there, diligently making recycled planters.

It was practically a factory. Humming hymns, someone was cutting plastic bottles, someone was assembling them, someone was filling them with soil, and someone was planting seeds.

It was incomparable to the clumsy ones Deacon Jeon and I had made.

I clenched my fist. This is hope. This is the future. Making others work while I reap the benefits—this is the sustainable future.

“Is this the ultimate form of pillaging? Stealing people’s time and labor?”

As I was lost in thought, someone tapped me on the back. It wasn’t Deacon Jeon.

“Deacon Kwon Dain, let’s check the rooftop. The task you requested earlier is done.”

It was some uncle I didn’t know. An elder with a gun given by the pastor, who felt like a guide and a minder. Maybe he was actually keeping an eye on me.

I quickly smiled. The religious tone I’d been practicing came out naturally.

“Yes, Elder. It’s always heartwarming to see the brothers and sisters working together.”

As a rolling stone somewhere between a regular believer and a powerful elder, I had to blend in well.

So, I watched the believers farming in various rooms and headed up to the rooftop.

The church wasn’t big, so it only had three floors. Except for the neon cross that rose like a clock tower, it wasn’t very tall.

Under the sunset sky, with the strong wind blowing, I looked around. Then, I approached the blocks piled up along the wall.

“It seems all the paving blocks have been collected and moved.”

“The brothers put in the effort.”

I peeked over the rooftop. The road where people walked was bare. Something like sandy soil was spread out.

That soil is a waste. The paving blocks were prepared for a siege when zombies come, but I feel like we could use that ground for something.

“Could we grow something on that soil, like herbs?”

If we grew perilla leaves or mugwort, we could harvest something, right? Even if this church falls, the plants might survive.

The elder frowned and glanced at me.

“Hmm. I’ve never farmed before…”

His gaze seemed to say, “You’re the disaster expert, not me.” I naturally deflected the suspicion.

“I haven’t studied agriculture professionally either. But the space is a shame.”

The church grounds, with parking lots and rest areas, had speakers on streetlights. Thin flower beds surrounded the church instead of fences. It was far from enough.

I wanted to lay barbed wire and traps everywhere… but we didn’t have the resources or the manpower. Plus, the pastor opposed making it difficult for the elderly believers to move around.

“I’d like to set up barricades… but I can’t go against the pastor’s wishes. Oh, it’s time for the meeting, right?”

“Right. We almost missed it. Let’s hurry.”

The elder suddenly lit up with faith and turned quickly. I followed him, a satisfied smile naturally forming.

“Anyway, this church group is useful.”

A tightly unified group under the pastor. As a newcomer, there was almost no conflict. Everything was the pastor’s command, so as long as the faith was the same, there was no infighting.

Joining was the right choice.

***

The meeting was held in the sanctuary before the service.

The pastor, standing at the pulpit, looked down at the elders seated in the front. Since it wasn’t a sermon for the believers, a relaxed smile hung on his lips.

“Another fulfilling day.”

“All thanks to you, Pastor.”

Meaningless small talk passed, and the meeting began in earnest. Elders in charge of supplies, administration, quarantine, and security discussed various matters.

The pastor listened seriously, nodding occasionally and adding a few words.

Soon, the pastor’s gaze fell on me.

“Deacon Kwon Dain, you’ve been a great help. I’m always grateful.”

“Not at all. Serving you, Pastor, is the meaning of my life.”

The elders nodded approvingly. They praised Deacon Kwon Dain for his deep faith.

It was proof that I had blended in well.

“So, Deacon Kwon Dain, what should we do next?”

“Aside from stockpiling long-term food and maintaining quarantine measures…”

I shook my head slightly.

“Installing emergency generators or solar panels would be good, but it’s too much for our current situation.”

“True. It’s unfortunate.”

The pastor sighed.

The zombie outbreak worsens every day. Noisy, time-consuming construction is difficult. Even if we tried, construction companies are fully booked. People are only now preparing.

After a moment of thought, I spoke.

“For now, maintaining the status quo and observing how the world changes seems best. We’ll keep buying food and quarantine supplies.”

I could have suggested recruiting more deacons to form a faction or more aggressive measures like hunting non-believers or pillaging, but I held back to avoid the pastor’s suspicion.

The church was satisfying enough now. There was no rejection or suspicion.

“Then, Deacon Kwon, tell the elder the list of necessary supplies. We’ll buy and stockpile as much as the church budget allows.”

The pastor pointed to an elder.

Then, something occurred to me, and I raised my hand like a student.

“Ah, I have one suggestion.”

The pastor, about to end the meeting, looked at me. The elders did too, so I voiced my selfish idea.

“Street evangelism is getting harder, right?”

“True. Many of our evangelism team brothers and sisters have been hurt by non-believers.”

As zombies increased, the streets became more dangerous. Shouting and grabbing people to evangelize was too risky.

There’s a better way.

“How about promoting Hope Church and the pastor’s name through recycled farming and paving block collection? It’ll reach more people than before.”

This was my selfish desire.

If more people grew plants while saving long-term food, I could later pillage it all. In other words, let others farm temporarily, and I’ll reap the rewards.

The pastor pondered briefly, then checked his watch.

“That’s a good idea. In these tough times, we need appropriate ways to reach the worried flock. Talk to the evangelism elder. But first, let’s finish the service.”

Clap clap, the pastor applauded.

“Let’s prepare for the service.”

***

“Ah, it seems all the brothers and sisters are here. Deacon Kwon and, uh… what’s his name? Deacon Jeon? Please handle things outside.”

The grandmother in charge of the attendance book and disinfectant groaned as she entered the sanctuary. Bang, the door closed.

As the safety officer, I was tasked with monitoring for zombies during the service.

I glanced at Deacon Jeon. He, who had been grumbling about wanting a fancy deacon title, looked pale and stared at his toes.

I thought he’d grumble about his name being forgotten again.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well…”

I wasn’t too interested and focused on my task.

Recording a video on my phone. The target was the attendance book. A treasure map filled with names, numbers, and addresses. Just taking this and running would be a big gain, but I believed in the church’s potential and only recorded it.

Deacon Jeon’s gloomy voice reached me.

“I talked to some woman here.”

“Romance?”

If it’s not about romance, it’s not worth listening to.

As I flipped through the papers, a story I couldn’t ignore came up.

“No, it’s not that. I… killed her.”

Who is he talking about? A couple? A policewoman? A neighbor? I looked at Deacon Jeon with puzzled eyes, and he trembled.

“She was a friend of the dead woman. She was taking online classes when she got bitten by a zombie and died. She was a good person, couldn’t lie. She kept crying, asking why she had to die like that.”

Ah, that whistleblower. The zombie killed her. We just locked the door after putting the zombie in.

Such words almost slipped out, but I swallowed them. Now’s not the time for that. But no suitable words came to mind.

Why dwell on the past? What’s her name? Let’s find her in the attendance book and pillage her. Only inappropriate thoughts surfaced.

Fortunately, Deacon Jeon reached his own conclusion.

“Just… feeling a bit down. Yeah. I couldn’t say a word to that friend, just… just.”

“…But you’re by the pastor’s side now. That friend will live well. You’ve seen it, this church is great.”

I barely found the right words. Deacon Jeon gave a faint smile.

“Right? God must really exist. He gave a way to live to a friend in sorrow.”

He took a familiar prayer pose and closed his eyes. Like a drop of black ink in clear water, faith had seeped in.

Even I felt my mind slowly bending from church life, let alone Deacon Jeon.

Then, the power went out. Time for the service. The world plunged into darkness.

“…It’s really dark.”

We quietly watched the city in blackout. A world without light or sound. The moonlight was the only illumination, making it seem like a different world.

And in that darkness, zombies roamed.

“In another month, the city will turn wild.”

I recalled the street scenes I’d seen.

The streets, where urban functions were slowly breaking down. Trash piled up, and sometimes corpses lay scattered. Human touch was fading.

But hope existed.

For example, this church.

I slowly pressed my ear to the sanctuary door, eavesdropping on the service. The pastor’s voice faintly reached me.

“Satan has sent waves of plague! Water and birds! Satan’s virus taints God’s creation, and only faith can save us!”

I smiled contentedly.

“Apocalyptic rhetoric, well done. Now it feels more cult-like.”

Isn’t it most satisfying when someone cherishes and uses a gift well? This pastor might not be the chairman’s rival, but he was definitely a talent to survive this era.

“I’ll stockpile long-term food at my house as a sub-base, use the church as the main base, and live off others’ resources for now.”

The more bases, the better. If resources run low or things get dangerous, I can move around.

Villa, church, camping car, mountain shelter. And the houses to pillage from the attendance book.

I was mapping it out in my head.

Bang!

A gunshot rang out. Not just once. Slowly, more shots followed. Inside the sanctuary.

Deacon Jeon and I hurriedly opened the wooden door and entered. There, the pastor and an elder, with zombie blood on their faces, stood under candlelight.

Faintly, a few zombie corpses were visible.

The pastor spoke.

“Satan is persecuting us. Trying to crush us, the hope that will overcome them. Let us all pray.”

With blood on his face, the pastor closed his eyes and clasped his hands. Touching prayers echoed from all around.

The pastor and elders killing zombies with crosses. A performance that could sway even non-believers, with the sanctuary’s atmosphere.

I stared blankly at the scene, feeling doubt rise within me. The doubt and faith planted in my heart by church life.

“Is it real? Is the pastor really the chairman’s rival? The key to stopping the apocalypse?”

Then… forget joining and benefits, I’d have to kill him? Faith bred murderous intent.

 

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