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The evidence of the collapse of public authority is right before my eyes. The police, who have no interest in maintaining order, are instead robbing citizens. It was a very positive phenomenon.

If only they didn’t catch criminals, how great would that be?

I gave a genuine smile to the police who were eyeing our harvest. Of course, it wouldn’t be visible because of the mask, but my eyes and demeanor conveyed it.

“Seeing your eyelids twitch, you must be lacking magnesium. I happen to have some supplements.”

As I rummaged through my bag for the supplements, the police officer’s eyebrows twitched, and he stepped back.

A voice tinged with panic could be heard.

“What, what’s this? Why are you reacting like this?”

“Stop that hand!”

Even the police officer guarding the rear looked greatly confused and approached us. It felt like I was hiding a bomb. I ignored it and pulled out the magnesium and multivitamin supplements.

“Here’s some magnesium.”

I handed it over like a gift, but the police didn’t accept it. Instead, tension flickered in their eyes as they suspiciously stared at the supplements.

“Did you mix zombie saliva in there? Are you after our equipment again?”

Did some memory flash by? Suddenly, the police officer pointed a handgun at my head as if having a seizure. It seemed like some kind of PTSD. He must have been through a lot, like a treasure goblin.

I slowly raised my hands in surrender, and thankfully, another officer intervened before things escalated.

“Calm down. He’s just a civilian.”

“Hello. I’m a civilian. These are new products from a pharmacy sale, purely a gift.”

The gun barrel pressed against my forehead trembled. The cold touch of the metal. Beyond it, the officer’s dull eyes wavered like someone lost in memories.

For a moment, I heard the faint sound of Jeondohyeong and Park Yang-gun stepping back.

The police officer suddenly looked very tired. His eyes, wet with cold sweat, were wrinkled. He lowered the gun and wiped his face a few times as if washing it.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“We’ve been attacked so often. Please understand, sir.”

I nodded, fully understanding.

It was a world where even a pure gift couldn’t be accepted. Even the sushi restaurant boss had fed someone pufferfish poison. If I were in their shoes, I’d probably reach for a weapon if a stranger offered me a gift.

I asked with a hint of concern.

“Are there many people attacking the police?”

It was as if this question flipped a switch. The two officers vigorously nodded. Anger burned fiercely in their eyes.

“Some crazy person wrote online to attack the police. Many people are coming at us for our weapons.”

…Isn’t that me? I’m pretty sure I was the first to write that post.

Was the impact of my post bigger than I thought?

“People ramming into us while driving, wielding weapons when they see our backs, luring zombies and then stealing weapons from our corpses. Many of our colleagues have fallen to civilians….”

The officer clenched his fists and tightly closed his eyes.

I was swept up in a strange emotion. My writing had moved people, moved the world. At this point, hadn’t I achieved a bit of my dream of being a scenario writer?

Lost in my thoughts, I quickly rummaged through my bag and handed them a can of spam.

“You’ve really been through a lot. It must be tough dealing with zombies too.”

“You didn’t have to give us this.”

The officer smiled awkwardly and accepted the supplements and spam. The small incident helped build camaraderie. The people who had been eyeing our stuff had become friendly.

The officers stuffed the gifts into their pockets.

Suddenly, a wicked idea bubbled up.

‘Should we raid them?’

First, give them a bunch of gifts. Then, while their hands are full, hit them with a hammer. It’s entirely possible.

The benefits were clear. Police equipment.

But I held back the impulse, dreaming of a well-crafted scenario. Attacking now would be premature without knowing the full situation. Should I make friends, hunt and gain treasures, or gather more information?

“By the way, is the police situation really that bad? I haven’t seen any police dealing with zombies lately.”

“Well….”

The officers hesitated, and only after I handed them another retort food did they slowly speak.

“Many colleagues have been killed by civilians, some turned into zombies from the virus, others killed by zombies…. The police force is practically nonfunctional. Even us.”

The officers shared their story.

A small police station. Officers disappearing one by one. The few remaining had to take to the streets to survive.

Blocking roads like bandits, taking food from passersby.

“Be careful. Other police are in a similar state.”

They worriedly shared news of police in other areas.

Some had become street gangs, others were planning to use armories, some were colluding with vigilante groups, and larger police stations were claiming dominion over their zones.

In short, the police had shattered like broken pottery, which was good news.

“There’s a security vacuum. Good people like you are vulnerable.”

“No, the police are more exposed to danger. You’ve really been through a lot.”

I ended my contemplation there.

These people are worth keeping alive. In a ruined city, they are the closest to firearms, a source of information about the once-powerful government agency, and potential friends with the means to repay favors.

Maintaining a long-term relationship is more beneficial.

‘A collapsed public authority isn’t the enemy.’

They’re not the police; they’re fellow outlaws. There’s plenty of room to become friends. The cartels and mafias didn’t collude for nothing.

A friendly atmosphere flowed between us, fellow outlaws preying on people.

The officer suddenly moved his hand to his waist. What he touched was a taser.

“You only have a hammer for a weapon. Take this.”

“Ah, a taser. That’ll ease some zombie worries.”

This is friendship. Friendship blossoming through exchanged gifts.

The officer kindly explained.

“The cartridges are single-use, but you can also use it as an electric shocker without them.”

“It can be used as an electric shocker too.”

I already knew that. But I made a face like someone unfamiliar with tasers and carefully shook it.

Then, the officer shared some professional knowledge.

“You can replace the battery with regular ones. I’m not sure how, but—”

He explained how to disassemble the battery part and connect wires to regular batteries. Even if I knew, I probably couldn’t do it. Is there information online?

As we happily chatted and exchanged contact information, it was time to part.

“Let’s help each other survive. Contact me anytime.”

“Yes. Let’s meet again.”

I waved as the police walked away. They were probably off to find another easy target to rob.

Their demeanor wasn’t entirely peaceful.

They were overly cautious, hiding behind trees or lampposts at the sound of a car.

A thief who broke into a former believer’s house, us who robbed that thief, and the police who robbed us of our resources. Even the police, seemingly at the top of the food chain, are someone’s prey.

This wasn’t even survival of the fittest.

In the face of ambushes, arson, firearms, poisonings, virus terrorism, zombie lures, and traffic accidents, everyone dies equally. There are no strong ones.

To survive in a world where everyone attacks everyone….

I turned my head at that point.

“The police are gone. Come out.”

“Are they gone? Hmm. Our Kim Da-in is really sociable. I couldn’t talk to the police.”

While I was busy talking to the police, the two thieves who had ghosted away sneaked out of the building. Jeondohyeong sighed with a pale face.

“That was a shock…. Since when do police rob civilians?”

“In a world where civilians attack the police, it’s only fair the police rob civilians too.”

I looked at Jeondohyeong like he was strange. Isn’t it unfair to expect only the police to be victims?

We returned to the villa with heavy bags.

***

A world where theft is a basic skill has arrived.

In a city that produces no essential resources, especially with dried-up logistics, the only way to survive is to take from others.

We vividly saw this as we walked.

“Who’s a zombie, who’s human….”

Park Yang-gun’s voice dropped low.

Both zombies and humans wandered the streets searching for food to fill their stomachs. Convenience stores had long been emptied, and even people’s homes became their targets.

The difference between zombies and humans was the use of specialized tools.

“A ladder?”

While zombies only broke first-floor windows within reach, humans used ladders to target second-floor homes. Thankfully, they were behind our pillager group.

We had a professional thief, a master liar, and Park Yang-gun, who could climb gas pipes. No matter the floor, closed doors opened to his touch.

Jeondohyeong stomped his feet.

“That’s our villa, right? Shouldn’t we do something?”

He was right. A ladder leaned against our villa’s second floor. The open window and empty ladder clearly indicated a thief had broken in.

But there was no need to worry.

“No need to rush. We’ve already emptied the other houses.”

I agreed with Park Yang-gun’s calm words. There’s no reason to be anxious. We’ve already moved the essential survival items to our homes.

And if my memory serves, that house only had corpses. Zombie corpses or the residents’ corpses.

“Why are there corpses in the house!”

Just then, the thief who had climbed the ladder was seen scrambling out the window in panic. He must have been scared by the corpses.

Anyway, it was an opportunity. A chance to punish the enemy who dared invade our villa.

I immediately ran over and kicked the ladder. A scream followed a parabolic arc to the ground. From the second floor, it wasn’t fatal, but the thief writhed in pain, limping as he got up.

“What the hell! Why do this when people are here!”

“A thief, no, an intruder has a lot to say.”

Insulting a thief is like insulting a comrade. I quickly corrected myself, and the thief’s face turned red as he jumped up.

“Why am I a thief! I’m family! I came to check on the house because we lost contact!”

“With a ladder?”

“I couldn’t reach the homeowner! What was I supposed to do! I couldn’t open the door!”

…Is he really family? No, that’s not important. Anyway, he’s a thief who invaded our building. A hostile party. If we let him live, he might come back at night to set a fire.

For our safety, preemptive action is necessary. The best defense is offense.

Thud!

The hammer struck his head. And, as if speaking to the neighbors watching from their windows, I loudly declared.

“What family? That’s my house.”

Anyway, it’s my house now.

 

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