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The villa I returned to after a long time was neatly cleaned. Out of the five houses I hadn’t touched, three were empty. I don’t know if they went out and died or moved to another city.

At least there was a sense of life in one house…

Click-

“The door’s open, oh!”

As soon as Elder Park Yang-gun broke the door open, a zombie inside drooled and desperately charged at us. The emaciated zombie reached out with a near-mad intensity.

“Grah!”

It felt like a starving person throwing themselves at a bowl of rice.

But we’ve adapted to the apocalypse. Elder Park Yang-gun quickly drew his gun and fired. Bang! The gunshot echoed through the villa, and the zombie was shot in the forehead at point-blank range.

The hammer and hand axe I and Jeondohyeong threw grazed the zombie’s skull as it fell.

We calmly assessed the situation. This was the last house, and the resident had been infected by the virus and turned into a zombie.

Jeondohyeong muttered, “We really got a villa.”

“Wow. Not jealous of the landlord. Deacon Kwon. No, Kim Da-in. Should we pretend to be the villa owners and let people in? Charge food instead of rent?”

I blankly looked down at the zombie and shook my head.

“That’s for later. Let’s check the remaining resources in the house first.”

My voice was a bit bitter.

There are still more people than zombies. Yet, people easily turn into zombies or die.

I wasn’t happy about getting the villa. The villa was destined to be mine eventually, but their fate bothered me more.

‘I need to be careful not to end up like them.’

Be careful of the virus, be careful of zombies.

I reminded myself of the principles of survival and slowly looked around the house. A house full of trash, furniture knocked over by a rampaging zombie.

Park Yang-gun, like a thief, opened closets and crooked drawers, finding bankbooks, seals, and gold items. Jeondohyeong and I looked for food and other resources.

How long had we been wandering around the trash-filled room? After a while, Park Yang-gun clicked his tongue.

“Nothing here. There’s nothing to take.”

“Nothing to take at all.”

Really nothing. Only plastic trash like convenience store lunchboxes remained, and the zombie had even scavenged the food scraps. It seemed they weren’t the type to prepare in advance.

Opening the treasure chest was a bust. Only the chest remained. Of course, the chest itself was useful.

“Let’s be satisfied with cleaning the villa.”

“Then let’s each take a house and live separately.”

So we decided to split up and live separately.

It was a bit uneasy to live together in one space due to the latent virus. Sleeping, eating, or even taking off masks, it’s better to be isolated.

***

Day 50 of the zombie outbreak.

The number of zombies has already surpassed a million, and the world doesn’t even feel the tens of thousands added daily.

I surfed the internet on the computer for the first time in a while to check how the world was doing. The number of infected, government response, news, people’s reactions.

“The government seems fine…”

Tap tap tap- I tapped the desk, lost in thought. The bright monitor screen showed the strongest evidence that the government was fine.

– K-military spirit that even the I-virus can’t stop!

Even in this situation, the conscription system is maintained. They say diagnostic kits are prioritized for the military and training camps…

‘Isn’t that madness?’

Accepting new recruits in a zombie virus outbreak? Or are they desperately trying to replenish the troops reduced by soldiers turning into zombies? Will they even call up the reserves? Of course, I wouldn’t go even if called…

I scrolled the mouse wheel and checked other news.

Administrative power and organizations maintained by prioritizing supplies to civil servants and the military. Safe zones built using self-diagnostic kits.

Also, creating almost trench-like frontlines to protect national important facilities and infrastructure with full force.

It’s like. Zombies are people and citizens, so they’re handling it moderately, but they seem to be working hard.

‘The reactions aren’t good.’

I read the hate comments. The atmosphere has completely changed since the early days of the zombie outbreak.

Is it because of the collapsing lives, including Wave? Citizens feeling the crisis left bloody comments demanding to shoot and kill zombies.

Those with zombie family members or those who tested positive on self-diagnostic kits protested, causing chaos. Would you say that if you or your family were infected?

I was lost in thought, unrelated to such fights.

“The military is too defensive. Why?”

Is it too hard to defend and maintain safe zones, important facilities, and frontlines? Has the virus spread so much in the military? Or are zombies still people and citizens?

I frowned deeply and pondered seriously, but soon my thoughts drifted into the realm of imagination and delusion. I lacked information.

‘Why not fight zombies…’

Zombies are patients. Could some people recover naturally? No, can the human immune system defeat the I-virus? Are they waiting for that timing?

Are they holding out until the day a vaccine and treatment are developed? Looking for people with antibodies?

My imagination soared. The stream of consciousness spread wildly.

‘War with the virus. War?’

Do they think that even if they’re pushed back now, as long as they defend well, there’s no defeat? Defeat and victory from a long-term perspective?

At that moment, an inspiration-like thought flashed through my mind. An inspiration that might help my future plans.

I barely grasped that inspiration. What is the strongest spirit humans possess? Isn’t it the spirit of mutual destruction, dying together?

“The virus… it’s less dangerous than humans.”

The I-virus evolves to contaminate water and air? Humans can do that too? Even more viciously?

There are nuclear bombs, nuclear power plants to blow up, various pollutants, wastewater, and biochemical weapons.

It evolves to infect birds and beasts? Humans have birds made of steel. Nuclear missiles.

If humans, having lost hope, truly go mad, the virus can never win. They’ll make the land uninhabitable for hosts.

The flow of thought twisted and turned, rushing towards a conclusion.

“Indeed, we must become more vicious…”

Whether zombies or humans, we must harbor a viciousness that dares not even think. Viciousness is humanity’s weapon.

I suddenly looked out the window. Streets where humans roam during the day, streets where zombies run at night. To make even a temporary base safe…

The thought popped out as words.

“Can’t we get fentanyl?”

Like rat poison, feed it to hungry zombies to kill them. Just 2mg can kill. Isn’t this much more beneficial than letting it enter human mouths?

Then, the Chairman’s face suddenly came to mind. He was smiling awkwardly. An imperfect, human-like face.

I sighed.

‘Chairman. You were human too.’

A virus that can never win against human malice. At best, mutual destruction is the virus’s best outcome.

I realized the Chairman was also a human with limits and mistakes.

***

“You, drugs? I don’t associate with drug users.”

“No wonder. Your head seemed off.”

Two pillagers looked at me suspiciously. I waved my hands in frustration.

“Not me! I’m thinking of feeding it to zombies. Like cockroach poison.”

“But why fentanyl?”

The suspicion didn’t fade. Their eyes scanned my room as if I were hiding something bad.

I calmly explained.

“I don’t know how to get cyanide. I don’t even know where to buy it.”

“Do you know fentanyl?”

“No, I don’t! But there were so many drug cases. Even if the world ends, drug addicts will find a way, so I thought it might be easy to get.”

Just from the news, it felt absurdly easy. The easiest poison to get in this situation.

Even a tiny amount is lethal.

Park Yang-gun slammed the table.

“Don’t get involved with those guys. No one who messes with drugs ends well. Better get pufferfish poison.”

“Pufferfish?”

How do you get pufferfish? It would be hard to trade long-term.

I widened my eyes and looked at Park Yang-gun, who got irritated.

“How many pufferfish restaurants are in this city! Check there first!”

“Or antifreeze? I heard that’s poisonous too.”

Indeed, the pillager members. They come up with ideas I wouldn’t think of alone. I smiled contentedly and nodded.

“Then I’ll go quickly while the sun’s up.”

***

Power outages only lasted 25% of the day, but zombies took up half. Humans ruled during the day, zombies at night. An invisible boundary seemed to divide their time.

I passed through streets swept by a zombie wave.

Corpses scattered everywhere. Roads stained with blood. The city seemed shrouded in a shadow of doom.

‘Can’t even clean up the corpses.’

In areas with intact vigilante groups or communities, corpses were neatly piled, but they couldn’t be buried or burned, leaving an awkward feeling. The piled-up corpses looked like a trash heap.

Mostly, people walking the streets passed by as if it were normal.

This inhuman scene is the apocalypse. A world where death is common, morality and spirit worn down, reverting to primitiveness.

I quietly checked my hammer and handgun.

‘Did I come out alone for nothing? Even if zombies aren’t visible during the day, people are more dangerous.’

I opened my eyes wide and guarded all directions. Others were similar. They carried menacingly modified, painted, and welded weapons.

In this era, weapons defined individuality more than clothing. Masks, hats, helmets, leather jackets, jeans—apocalypse uniforms made everyone look the same.

I nervously headed to the nearest sushi restaurant. One that sold pufferfish.

“…Grim.”

Several zombie corpses lay in front of the sushi restaurant. As I passed, I noticed their carotid arteries were precisely and sharply cut.

Sliced with a sushi knife? I swallowed hard and entered the restaurant. The bell jingled, and a composed voice greeted me.

“Welcome!”

Inside the restaurant, empty due to quarantine policies, like an omakase place. A menacing-looking uncle watched me. In one hand, he held a sharp kitchen knife, and his exposed forearm had tattoos of several fish.

More like a man who’d slice people than fish.

As I stood frozen, the uncle awkwardly smiled. He pointed to the tattoos with one hand.

“Ah, these. I like fish. This is a mullet, this is salmon, this is tuna. Oh, right. Not that. Are you here for a takeout order? Can I check your number?”

“No. I’m here to order.”

“You know dining in isn’t allowed, right?”

“I know.”

I quietly sat at the far end. He seemed like a tough person.

“What would you like to order? Luckily, we got fresh fish today.”

The supply chain isn’t completely cut off yet. Anyway, I got to the point.

“Pufferfish poison.”

“Pufferfish takes time to prepare… Poison?”

The uncle, who had turned away, turned back. The knife in his hand looked ready to stab someone. He wiped away his customer-service smile.

“We don’t sell poison.”

 

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