Chapter 19
“Is this really a miracle?”
Honestly, it makes no sense that I haven’t been infected yet. The pastor is the only uninfected person in a church where everyone else has turned. He fought zombies up close without a mask and is still perfectly fine.
My hands are shaking. My heart is pounding. Irrational thoughts flood my mind. A miracle. A clue that could ruin the Chairman’s grand plan.
Faith and rational thought clash, grinding against each other with a screeching sound.
“Could the pastor have antibodies? Immunity? Asymptomatic?”
If that’s really the case, he must be killed.
If the government takes him away for research and develops a cure, I, who’ve been living well in this apocalypse, might end up in a perfectly restored world’s prison. Or maybe the restored world itself would be a prison.
I clenched my fists tightly. My nails dug into my palms. My wavering gaze fell on the pastor, illuminated by candlelight like a halo.
Even in this situation, the pastor continues the service without faltering.
“You showed up too early.”
Just thinking about Pandora’s box—all the calamities and evils that spilled out, with hope appearing last. The world hasn’t fallen apart enough for hope to appear yet. There’s still a lack of disaster and evil.
At that moment, the name “Hope Church” and the pastor’s existence felt like a sign. A truly fateful hope.
A murderous intent sank deep within me, sharp and cutting.
“Yeah. Hope shouldn’t appear this early. This is wrong.”
It should only appear after all police records and databases are destroyed, erasing the evidence of me killing someone on the first day of the zombie outbreak. Or maybe 30 years later, in an era where I can steal someone else’s identity.
The murderous intent was refined mechanically, like editing a sentence in a script that doesn’t fit the narrative.
“Amen.”
– Amen!
The service was hastily concluded. Even though the blackout hadn’t ended.
“Today’s service will end early. It’s getting dark, so there might be issues when you leave.”
The pastor dragged out his words, seemingly flustered.
I snapped out of my thoughts and waved my phone like a flashlight. I opened my mouth wide and shouted.
“I’ll guide everyone out one by one!”
“Ah, Deacon Kwon. Please handle the disinfection too. Especially those who’ve been in contact with non-believers, make sure to disinfect them.”
I’ll leave that to Jeondohyeong. I tapped him.
“You stand at the entrance and make sure everyone gets disinfected.”
“Uh, yeah. No, amen.”
Jeondohyeong, looking like he’s been possessed, quickly left the chapel.
“Please stand up carefully and follow me.”
I smiled kindly and guided people from the back row, thinking to myself. The service is over, so I can turn on my phone, but everyone’s just passively following me.
I need to kill the pastor and shake the faith of these believers. No, I need to dismantle this threatening group and reduce it to a manageable level.
***
That day’s service ended in chaos.
The pastor, with blood splattered on his face, dragged his feet and locked himself in his room. Before closing the door, he said:
“The situation seems to be getting worse. I’ll pray and meditate to understand God’s will.”
The elders, worried about the pastor, scattered to prepare to return home. The pastor seemed burdened with worries, but they, trusting only him, appeared to lack deep thoughts.
Suddenly, Grandmother smiled at me.
“Deacon Kwon, take care of the pastor. He hasn’t eaten dinner. I’ll make some ramen later. There’s kimchi I made in the fridge.”
It’s a request only I, who live in the church, can handle. They strangely trust me more than Jeondohyeong.
The elders nodded.
“Right. The pastor is still young, and the burden must be heavy. You’re around his age, so be his companion.”
“Order something if there’s a delivery place. Here’s some money. Ramen won’t fill you up.”
“Hey, you. Delivery fees are so expensive these days. Here, take it.”
Several 50,000-won bills were handed to me. I awkwardly smiled and accepted the money.
Even though delivery drivers raised their fees due to the zombie threat, it was still a generous amount.
“You didn’t have to… I’ll use it for the pastor.”
“Yes, enjoy your meal and guard the church well tonight.”
The six elders left in a hurry.
I watched their retreating backs expressionlessly, then turned to Jeondohyeong, who was grumbling beside me.
“Isn’t this discrimination? Why am I being ignored?”
“Ah, Electric Thief. Maybe they smelled the stench of your sins.”
“What are you talking about, murderer?”
I was at a loss for words. I was out-logicked. No, I can’t let a subordinate outdo me. I quickly opened my mouth again.
“I repented through prayer. I’ve been forgiven.”
“Then I’m the same, right? You’re really strange.”
Losing in such a childish argument? That Electric Thief is truly ruthless. As someone who only caused accidental incidents in the disaster, I can’t beat that shamelessness.
I sighed deeply. Not fighting is the best option, and if I must fight, using someone else’s weapon is the next best thing. I chose the best option.
“This feels a bit blasphemous. Should we stop?”
“…You’re right. Forgive me, amen.”
Jeondohyeong, who’s learned strange things living in the church, clasped his hands and bowed his head.
And so, the church fell into silence, and deep night arrived.
The pastor refused the late-night snack the delivery driver brought, saying he had no appetite, and I wandered alone through the dark church hallway.
Creak, creak—
My footsteps, heavily muffled, stretched out silently. I was lost in deep thought in the darkness. A low voice murmured.
“Betrayal…”
Is it right to betray the pastor, who seems like the embodiment of a miracle? Isn’t this a bit irrational? The Hope Church group is so useful.
I slowly reconstructed my thoughts. Rationally. Logically. Like shaping characters and their actions when writing a script.
A plausible logic flowed through my mind.
“Maybe he’s just lucky. Or maybe he’s already infected and could turn into a zombie at any moment.”
…Both are problems.
How long will his luck last? The pastor, who doesn’t even wear a mask to show his uniqueness, could get infected at any moment. I might even see Pastor Zombie tomorrow morning.
Rationally, the church’s collapse is only a matter of time. It’s an organization held together solely by the pastor’s power, so it’ll fall apart the moment he turns into a zombie.
Suddenly, enlightenment struck.
“Anyway, it’s time to betray!”
My steps halted. The complicated thoughts vanished, and I felt the chains loosen, my body lighten. The future narrowed to one path, and all I had to do was follow it.
Betrayal. The enemy within.
My task is simple: deal with the pastor, eliminate the church’s expansion, and pillage its resources.
As the scenario played out in my mind…
“…?”
I tilted my head. Except for the pastor, me, and Jeondohyeong, the church should be empty, but there was light in the storage room. A white glow and someone’s shadow seeped through the door crack.
“That’s where the food supplies are stored.”
Did a thief break in? Finally, a connection with a thief? Right when I decided to betray? Is this divine will?
I suppressed my excitement and crept toward the storage room. As I got closer, faint voices reached me.
“A miracle, my foot. Zombie blood splattered on his mouth, and he’s still fine? I need to find a way to survive.”
A familiar voice. The elder in charge of supplies. A middle-aged man with a sneaky impression.
I silently opened the door.
The elder was hurriedly stuffing long-lasting food like crackers, salt, and sugar into a box. He staggered under the weight but kept going.
I was seized by doubt. An elder as a thief?
“Excuse me. Are you a thief?”
“Huh, what?”
The thief elder froze mid-action. Awkwardly turning around, he saw me. His gaze focused on the hammer in my hand.
“Deacon Kwon? It’s not stealing—”
“Are you a thief?”
Our eyes met. The thief elder bit his lip and quickly drew a handgun from his waist. He aimed it at me without hesitation. His hand didn’t tremble.
“Deacon Kwon. Let’s settle this peacefully. I have a family to feed. I’ll just take enough food for them. You keep your mouth shut. God teaches mercy, right?”
“No. I asked if you’re a thief.”
I blinked. Why isn’t this getting through? I’m asking because I want to recruit him.
The elder, staring into my eyes, seemed to sense something and his hand trembled slightly.
“Crazy fanatic. You’re not making sense. Your eyes are—”
“Is your hearing bad? Do you know how to pick locks? Steal car fuel? Do you have a cutter?”
“Huh…?”
This time, the elder blinked stupidly. Frustrated, I closed the storage room door.
The elder flinched for no reason, even with the gun. He spoke slowly.
“I did some stealing when I was young. I repented and lived honestly. But why are you asking…?”
“Locks, car fuel.”
“You need tools for that. The blue light thing and the fuel pump. Wait, what’s going on?”
The confused elder. I smiled contentedly under my mask.
Finally, a thief has appeared. The main member candidate I’ve been waiting for. The fact that he immediately thought of the necessary tools shows he’s somewhat professional. This is fate. Betrayal, and the fate of me organizing a pillager group.
Licking my lips, I excitedly rambled.
“Elder in charge of supplies. Why are your ambitions so small? Is this all you learned from the pastor?”
“What on earth is this?”
The elder looked like he was questioning if he was dreaming. Everything just felt absurd.
I kicked the sacks of rice filling the storage room.
“Are you satisfied with stealing this once or twice? Didn’t the pastor show you? Real theft is stealing people’s hearts, time, and labor.”
“Ah. It’s a dream. No wonder. I must’ve fallen asleep from the tension of working after so long.”
Suddenly, the elder laughed hollowly, but when I slapped his cheek hard, he snapped back to reality.
“Deacon Kwon…?”
“This is reality, Elder. Get a grip. And my real name isn’t Kwon Dain.”
The elder, touching his cheek, stared at me blankly. His mask moved as if his mouth was hanging open.
“The church isn’t the answer. The apocalypse can’t be stopped. You agree, right?”
“Uh…”
“Then what should we do?”
“Survive?”
The elder parroted. I reached out to him.
“Let’s overthrow the pastor and pillage all the church’s resources. Let’s work together.”
I already doubted Jeondohyeong, so I needed suitable manpower.
But now, an internal enemy, the supply elder, and the thief I’ve been waiting for have appeared. I must recruit him.
“But the pastor is a good person. That’s a bit…”
“He’s going to turn into a zombie, isn’t he? He doesn’t even wear a mask. The living must survive. And I, a disaster response expert, am the real future, not just empty prayers.”
I spoke passionately for a while, and the apostate, who had already stolen the church’s assets, had no faith and eventually succumbed to my persuasion.
It was the same logic as the elder relying on the pastor. I just presented a more sustainable and reliable future.
In reality, I twisted the psychological foundation the pastor had built.
The thief elder, barely regaining his focus, scrutinized me.
“…But Deacon Kwon. Were you always like this? I thought you were a fervent believer.”
“I’m just an ordinary person trying to survive the apocalypse.”
I answered vaguely. Then I asked a question, also a pillager interview question.
“Do you really have a family?”
“No. I had a wife, but we divorced. She took the kids too. …Don’t scold me for lying. You’re not Kwon Dain either. It’s not like a demon hiding its name.”
Pass.
Pillagers should be few and elite. The apocalypse doesn’t need dead weight.
Above all, I like how lies flow effortlessly from him. And the mindset to betray at the first sign of danger.
Realizing we were of the same kind, the thief elder laughed.
“Alright. Let’s make a big score.”
“Let’s work well together, Elder.”
We grinned and almost shook hands but quickly pulled back. Gotta be careful of the virus. We just smiled sinisterly and prepared various scenarios.
***
Day 35 of the zombie outbreak.
After wandering between faith and doubt, I found my answer and recruited the thief I’ve been longing for. A professional thief, an apostate who abandoned faith, a natural liar.
And in the shadow of the cross, a conspiracy brewed. The season of betrayal, where distrust takes root instead of trust. It was the apocalypse.