Chapter 41
I heard farming is tough work. The natural environment, including temperature and rain, along with weeds, pests, birds, and wild animals like deer, are all enemies.
In other words, farming is a war against nature, and since humans are part of nature, you also have to fight against the harmful animal known as humans.
I heard this warning from Park Yang-gun.
“When I was young, I lived in the countryside. Stealing from nearby fields and eating the crops was so delicious. It brings back good memories.”
In the indoor farm lit with purple lights, Park Yang-gun, whose face took on an unnatural hue under the purple glow, spoke nostalgically.
He used to secretly steal corn, build a bonfire, and roast it. He said it was so delicious. The smoky flavor made his eyes water, but he could never forget that taste.
I nodded in understanding.
‘He showed a natural talent for thievery from a young age.’
They say a petty thief becomes a big thief. Park Yang-gun, who was a corn thief since childhood, never forgot his innocence and became an excellent thief.
Suddenly, Park Yang-gun glared at me.
“You’re thinking something weird, aren’t you?”
“…Huh? No, I was just thinking about corn. Wow, I really want to eat some corn.”
As expected of a thief, he’s quick to notice. After giving me a suspicious look, Park Yang-gun turned away.
“Be careful of people. If you become rich, all sorts of humans will swarm you. Even if they don’t know about farming, word must have spread about the apartment heist and the tons of food we got. Word of mouth is the scariest thing.”
Park Yang-gun, who used to steal crops, was now wary of other thieves.
He was right. I also hardened my expression and gripped a hammer.
We had gained a lot of resources, but we lacked the strength to protect them. A weak person with treasure is just a treasure goblin. Like the clumsy police who were hunted down, we would only suffer losses.
‘There must be many people who think we’re easier targets than the police or the Hope Community.’
The apartment residents at least had numbers. We had nothing. My head hurt. I pressed my forehead.
I really don’t know about defense. I’m confident in killing, destroying, and causing chaos. No, actually, that’s why it feels even more overwhelming.
I can think of countless ways to destroy this street right now, but how do I stop all of them? And what about attacks I can’t even imagine? It’s more fun and easier to attack, but this has no end.
Fortunately, I wasn’t alone, and I had capable companions to share the burden with.
“We’re in a perfect situation to be targets of scams. Normally, no one would covet our assets, but these days, it’s like we’re living in luxury.”
“Suddenly, our resources have grown…”
“I know. We have to be suspicious of everyone. We need to be wary of people from nearby neighborhoods too.”
Sajihyeok, whose mind works pretty well, and Jeondohyeong, who inherited wealth and has experience with being targeted, along with the paranoid uncle, had already sensed the danger and started discussing countermeasures.
***
Farming was progressing with difficulty. The power outages were getting longer, and since we were all novice farmers, it was hard to be confident about how well we were doing.
Above all, strange people started showing up on the street.
“Hello, do you have electricity here?”
People came with mobile phones and spare chargers. Most were young, trembling as if plagued by anxiety.
“…Why are you asking about electricity? Even if the outages are long, isn’t it still being supplied?”
“A bird built a nest on a power pole, and it keeps causing outages. It hasn’t been fixed.”
Even if the power plant is maintained, there’s no manpower to manage the electrical facilities throughout the city, so the city is slowly being engulfed in darkness.
They habitually turned on their phones, but no matter how much they pressed the buttons, the screens remained black. The dark screens only served as mirrors.
“We just need to charge. We can trade with cigarettes or cola. Or do you have an electrician? If we can just fix that power pole, it should be fine.”
“We don’t have any experts either.”
I looked at them curiously. It’s just a simple mobile phone. To wander through dangerous cities as nomads just because it doesn’t work.
They also seem to have the potential to develop as a group.
Anyway, they passed by as friendly visitors.
“Cigarettes? Oh, those? I smoke those, so it’s perfect. Charge at my place.”
“Me too.”
Because of the cigarettes they offered, smokers readily offered their homes. The electric nomads pulled out extension cords and focused on charging their phones and laptops, leaving without any trouble once they were done.
Of course, not all visitors were friendly.
People from nearby neighborhoods came asking for handouts, and those who heard Villa Street was a food hotspot came begging.
“Neighbors should help each other. Take this.”
I kindly gave them drinks like cola or coffee.
As if this kindness was unfamiliar, the visitors blinked and suddenly gripped the cola bottles tightly, and cola leaked from the syringe holes I had made. Traces of zombie saliva.
“…That’s really dirty. I won’t take it because it’s dirty!”
“Don’t even think about pillaging. We’ve mixed zombie saliva into all the food. You know Russian Roulette, right?”
“We’re leaving!”
The visitors, who had regained their conscience, left with praise.
Sometimes, extreme troublemakers came.
Arsonists. People who poured oil on the street and held lighters, grinning.
“We heard you have plenty of food. Share some with the poor, won’t you?”
I was starting to feel stressed. There’s really no end. Total annihilation isn’t possible. Survivors, like cockroaches, keep coming after hearing rumors.
I, who was unaccustomed to working with people, felt my eyes rolling. I tried to endure and respond calmly.
“There was an arsonist last time. That person poured oil on themselves, so why are you all clean?”
“…What?”
“If you want to negotiate, pour oil on yourselves first.”
The arsonists exchanged glances and made ambiguous sounds.
“We poured all the oil, so we have none left to pour on ourselves, no. If you don’t want the street to burn, share some food. We don’t need much.”
“You can roll around in the oil spilled on the ground. Do that at least.”
When I spoke firmly, the hesitant arsonists reluctantly rolled in the oil.
Their bodies were soaked in oil. They tried to resume their threats, and I stared at them before pulling out a lighter.
“Burn to death!”
“Ah! Get away!”
“Ahhh! You’re crazy!”
The arsonists fled in panic. I chased them to the end of the street with gleaming eyes, but unfortunately, I couldn’t catch up to survivors who felt their lives were in danger.
I watched the back of the fleeing arsonists and caught my breath.
‘Weeds, these humans. Too many harmful animals. I need to borrow the wisdom of a farmer.’
We need scarecrows. Like scarecrows that chase away sparrows, we need scarecrows to chase away humans.
***
The daily strategy meetings were extreme. The people of Villa Street, who had launched a massacre to raid the apartment, prepared for life-and-death battles.
“Too many people have come over the past few days. The rumors have spread well. They approached simply for now, but they could gather and attack at any time.”
The uncle, gripping a pen tightly, spoke. His complexion was dark, perhaps from worry.
He seemed to think the situation had reversed. Just as we gathered people to raid the apartment, they could gather people to raid us.
Sajihyeok glanced at me.
“These people came because of their desire to live and their desire for food. Since this person threatened them with zombie saliva, maybe they won’t come?”
No. I shook my head.
“They can just cook it. They left because they weren’t ready for battle, but if they’re desperate, they can come to pillage at any time.”
There’s cola that can’t be boiled, but you can just not drink it.
Jeondohyeong, who had been with the Hope Community, and Park Yang-gun, the thief, also started offering their opinions.
“How about contacting the police or the Hope Community in advance and requesting support if a battle seems likely? Of course, we’d have to give some food in return.”
“How about giving it first and then stealing it back later?”
The discussions were filled with vague ideas without direct solutions.
As the unproductive discussions continued, I got up, feeling frustrated.
“I’ll go make some scarecrows.”
“…Scarecrows? What scarecrows?”
“Scarecrows to chase away harmful animals.”
People looked at me curiously. Suddenly, Jeondohyeong nodded as if he understood.
“Ah! To prevent birds from building nests on power poles, right? It would be tough without electricity.”
“Something like that.”
So, I went out to the street, heavily armed. Inspiration surged in my mind, and my body felt light.
I brought out the scenario writer within me and focused on directing.
‘Scarecrows. I should recycle existing materials. They need to be threatening. And they can’t lack the apocalypse vibe.’
I worked hard. I was drenched in sweat, but whether it was because I was working alone or because I was doing something I loved after a long time, unlike farming, I felt refreshed.
I lost track of time, and before I knew it, the street was filled with scarecrows.
As I smiled proudly, the people who had finished the strategy meeting came outside. They stopped as soon as they stepped out of the building. They seemed impressed by the scarecrows I had made.
Jeondohyeong spoke in a bewildered voice.
“…You said you were making scarecrows.”
“I made them.”
I pointed to the street.
The scarecrows I made, human crosses. Corpses scattered across the street were tied to trees, power poles, and traffic signs, with wooden sticks in their sleeves to spread their arms wide.
A line of corpse crosses stretched along the street.
Even zombies, captured after using up taser cartridges, were tied to crosses.
“Ugh…”
“No, zombies. Why zombies?”
“They’re virus generators. If we keep extracting saliva, we can replicate the virus weapon. We feed them leftovers.”
Functional and well-directed scarecrows. At this level, even clumsy humans won’t approach.
I looked contentedly at the street filled with apocalypse vibes and corpse crosses. The sight of the corpse of the traitor hung by the uncle swaying in the wind added to the atmosphere, making it feel like a proper pillager’s base.
It felt like my territory, and I liked it.
‘My stress is easing a bit. People really need hobbies.’
During this time of focusing on farming and protecting stored resources, I found a hobby as a scenario writer.
Sajihyeok’s eyes twitched, and he laughed awkwardly.
“You have an artistic sense. Wow. This could be in a nightmare. How did you… no, this…”
“Right? I originally dreamed of working in movies. I even thought about putting corpses by the windows of empty houses-”
Are they fellow criminals? They understand this vibe! I eagerly chased after Sajihyeok, who was backing away, to continue the conversation, while Park Yang-gun and the uncle continued with practical discussions.
“Even thieves will come and run away. The riff-raff will just leave.”
“…We need to prepare buckets of water mixed with saliva. For threats.”
“Right. With zombies tied up like this.”
The zombies groaned pitifully.
And so, peaceful days passed. Whether it was because my scarecrows were effective, there were no visitors, and it was quiet. Whether this calm was the calm before the storm or just simple peace, I couldn’t tell.