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Rider Zero didn’t stop, she just kept going. In an instant, the noisy motorcycle disappeared beyond the street. Only a single letter she threw was left lying on the porch.

I looked down at the letter from the rooftop. A letter? Who sent it? To whom? Is it really a letter?

“There’s no one who would send me a letter.”

Really, there wasn’t. My parents are gone, and I don’t have any close friends. Especially in this apocalyptic world, there’s no one who would go through the trouble of sending a letter, paying with resources.

Jeondohyeong and Sajihyeok also stared blankly.

“I have a younger sibling, but we’re not close enough to keep in touch.”

“Haha. The only letters I’d get are death threats. From people I scammed… Ah. Instead of sending a letter, they’d probably come find me directly.”

Sajihyeok awkwardly laughed, and Jeondohyeong nudged him. As comrades, words of concern followed.

“Razor blades or Botox? Fentanyl? It could be a terrorist attack using those. Just in case, wear gloves when you open it.”

I looked at Jeondohyeong anew. This guy has really adapted to the apocalypse. To think of a letter as a terrorist tool so quickly.

Then, a hollow laugh escaped me.

‘What kind of thought is this, worrying about a letter.’

This is the human relationship of pillagers. In front of something as heartwarming as a letter, we’re worrying about our lives.

Something feels wrong, deeply wrong. Or is it? Is it good because it’s pillager-like? Then, if it’s a normal letter, isn’t that the problem? Because it’s not a letter a pillager should receive?

Lost in confusion for a while, Sajihyeok suddenly clapped his hands.

“Uncle Park Yang-gun! Isn’t that letter for him?”

“That uncle, ah. He mentioned having a family.”

I also recalled that information. Park Yang-gun had mentioned it before. He has an ex-wife and a child. Did they send him a letter?

Instantly, a wicked scenario flashed through my mind. Someone wealthy enough to send a letter. Probably part of a decent survivor group. What if we infiltrate using his connection with Park Yang-gun?

‘No. What am I thinking? Stop.’

We’re not short on resources right now. We can handle the blackout. There’s no need to take such risks.

Having roughly set up scavenger bait, I nodded.

“Let’s go back. Pick up the letter.”

“Ugh. It’s too hot to stay outside any longer. Ah, it’s the same inside. The air conditioner’s not working. Haha. Hell is here.”

Sajihyeok made unnecessary comments, but it’s not a one or two-day thing, so I listened and ignored him. But Sajihyeok kept talking, shaking the remaining rice and kimchi.

“But is this really effective? Cooking rice generates heat, doesn’t that kill the virus? And it’s not even certain if it’s transmitted through blood.”

“No. I trust the Chairman.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

The scorching heat seemed to evaporate reason. I spoke my thoughts as they came.

“Do you think the Chairman would create a virus that could be easily stopped like that?”

“…Is that so?”

The Chairman personally created the virus. Whatever you imagine, it’s beyond the limits of my imagination. Of course.

Sajihyeok and Jeondohyeong frowned uncomfortably but tilted their heads in thought. They couldn’t deny the Chairman’s authority.

So, we retrieved the letter and returned to the farm villa.

***

Opening the door and entering, Park Yang-gun was seen hastily pretending to work. Exaggerated gestures picking up batteries. He shamelessly smiled and turned his body.

“Ah, you’re back? Oh my. My body hurts, so my hands aren’t moving well.”

“Is that so?”

I scanned the floor. It wasn’t much different from when we left. Well, entrusting productive work to a thief was a mistake.

From behind, Sajihyeok suddenly popped his head out and spoke.

“A letter came. It’s addressed to Uncle Park Yang-gun.”

“A letter? For me?”

Sajihyeok handed over the letter envelope. The white envelope lacked any formalities. Just Park Yang-gun’s name and an incomplete address with Hope Church, and two women’s names.

Park Yang-gun frowned and reluctantly took the envelope. Upon seeing the senders’ names, he tightly closed his mouth. He must know them.

Sajihyeok, sticking to the relatively cool wall, tactlessly said.

“It might be a terrorist act. Be careful. There could be poison or razor blades hidden inside.”

“No, you fool! Why would my wife and daughter do such a thing!”

Suddenly, Park Yang-gun’s face turned red with anger.

Jeondohyeong and I quickly scolded Sajihyeok. How could you suspect family? I wouldn’t do that. I don’t have family to suspect. Anyway, that was really bad.

“This is Sajihyeok’s fault. How could you say such a thing?”

“Wow, that was really bad. Be careful with your words.”

“No, no. You guys were the ones who said it.”

As we bickered, Park Yang-gun quietly put on gloves and carefully opened the letter. Fortunately, there were no foreign objects inside.

Just a neatly folded A4 paper.

We kept our mouths shut, alternating our gaze between the letter and Park Yang-gun. Honestly, Jeondohyeong, Sajihyeok, and I have all disclosed what we’ve been through.

But Park Yang-gun never mentioned much. Just that he used to steal, repented, and was active in the church.

Uncomfortable with our stares, Park Yang-gun unfolded the letter to cover his face.

“What are you looking at? Haven’t you seen someone receive a letter before?”

“Yes. It’s my first time seeing someone receive a handwritten letter aside from official documents.”

Exactly. A handwritten letter. Written by hand, paying a price, personally moving to deliver it, the epitome of sincerity.

Receiving such a letter would make me suspicious first. Going through such trouble to send a letter? What’s the intention?

Park Yang-gun frowned as he read the letter.

“You get letters when you’re in the military!”

“Haha. The generation gap shows here. Haven’t you seen the news that soldiers use mobile phones too? You must be quite old.”

Sajihyeok, who never went to the military, said that. Park Yang-gun sighed weakly and adjusted his grip on the letter. His serious eyes slowly read the words.

We quietly waited, and soon Park Yang-gun neatly folded the letter and put it back in the envelope.

“Why did they have to contact me, why?”

“…Is there something problematic in the letter?”

I asked in a low voice. Letters are dangerous. If they’re openly dangerous, that’s one thing, but letters pretending to be normal are even more dangerous.

Several dangerous scenarios already came to mind.

Park Yang-gun sulkily tapped the envelope on the floor.

“Are you going to say weird things like that guy?”

“Just in case. I can think of many ways to use a letter. For example.”

Cult-style. Brainwashing normal people and drawing in those around them. Or more directly, threatening to lure in those around them. Maybe even the sender is planning an operation.

Using people as bait. There are many methods. Brainwashing, violence, drugs, traps, bribes. If you’re determined to be malicious, it’s not hard.

The world is too harsh. There are so many dangerous people.

As I shivered from my own words, Park Yang-gun looked at me suspiciously and started reading the letter again.

Then he let out a heavy sigh.

“I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t a good husband or father. Reading the letter, their faces don’t come to mind. I can’t even guess what they were thinking when they wrote it.”

I quietly looked at his face. He seemed to have aged suddenly. White hair was visible, and his wrinkles seemed deeper.

Is his spirit shaken? Is this the chance to make him a true pillager comrade? Or is it time to eliminate him? Does the skill of thieving still have value?

‘Thinking about it, isn’t thieving not such a great skill? If you steal the equipment of someone painting apartment walls, you can break any window and enter.’

Maybe because I’ve crossed the line once. My thoughts keep rolling down the cliff into the abyss. This isn’t good. No matter how much of a betrayal expert Park Yang-gun is, he’s still a comrade. If you can’t keep comrades close, you’ll end up like that paranoid uncle, killed by your comrades.

Forcing my thoughts to twist, I heard Jeondohyeong’s questioning voice.

“Are you going to visit them? You seem like you’d want to see their faces.”

“Forget it. My body hurts, why would I do such a thing. …Just send a letter. Do you have a pen? Sajihyeok, help me out. You’re good with words.”

“Sure! That’s my specialty.”

So Park Yang-gun started writing the letter. He spoke a few words, and the excited Sajihyeok polished them, while Park Yang-gun wrote in crooked letters.

Finally completing the letter, Park Yang-gun hesitated and spoke with difficulty.

“It’s a bit awkward to say this to someone who helped, but. Is this right? It feels like I’m trying to scam and sell something.”

“It’s not just feels like…”

Jeondohyeong, who was listening nearby, muttered in a creeping voice. He heard the whole conversation. I agreed with that opinion.

‘It’s not a letter, it’s a spam message.’

Saying we’re living well became an advertisement for dreams and hope, asking how you’re living became a stimulation of greed, and saying we’ll wrap it up became like an advertising slogan. And it felt like some loan shark.

Sajihyeok confidently waved his finger side to side and tapped the letter.

“Hey, I’m a scammer. Just trust me. Whether it’s truth or lies, I’m an expert at touching people’s psychology.”

We looked at him uncomfortably, but in the end, Park Yang-gun folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. A gesture that whatever happens, it doesn’t matter.

“Anyway, thanks. How do I contact the delivery person?”

***

The Delivery Vigilante Group comes to take requests during the blackout hours. Even though Villa Street is always dark after sunset due to the power outage, their rules are set, and we can’t change the time.

Park Yang-gun and I sat on the porch, waiting for the rider. The dark street didn’t even have zombies. In the quiet, only the occasional sound of some unknown beast moving around could be felt.

How long had the silence lasted? Park Yang-gun casually asked.

“Kim Da-in. How’s your family?”

“I haven’t mentioned it. I don’t have one.”

“Oh. Were you an orphan?”

I turned my head to look at Park Yang-gun. The moonlight was bright enough to vaguely see his face.

“No. They passed away around the time I graduated from college.”

“Ah. I made a mistake. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

I can’t hit him with a hammer, can I? Park Yang-gun, who’s already in pain, might really die if I hit him with a bean. Instead, to extract information from him, I slowly opened my mouth.

“How old is your daughter?”

“I don’t know. Really, I don’t. How old would she be? I’ve forgotten everything. But as a father, I’m worried. Is she living well?”

Park Yang-gun muttered in a voice mixed with regret.

“She’s probably living well. If she sent a letter, she must be wealthy. Clearly, resources are abundant.”

“…You’re not targeting her, are you?”

“Why would I? There’s no reason. More importantly, why did you get divorced?”

I’m curious about his life story. Aren’t we comrades? Knowing his life makes it easier to understand his psychology, and I might even sense when he might betray. Further, it can be used to control him.

At my sincere voice, Park Yang-gun hunched over.

“It’s my fault for not correcting my habits. What’s so great about stealing? It’s my fault.”

I looked at him in disbelief. He stole even though he had a child? Isn’t this a sickness? Kleptomania? …Impressive. This is what a pillager should be like.

If I keep providing opportunities to steal, maybe I don’t have to worry about betrayal.

As I thought this, noise and light approached from afar. The light of a motorcycle with its headlight brightly lit gradually became brighter. The rider finally arrived.

Park Yang-gun and I quickly picked up our weapons and scanned the surroundings. Worried that zombies or pillagers might gather, attracted by the noise.

But perhaps because Villa Street is so dark, there was no sign of life except the rider.

Screech, the rider stopped in front of us and took off her helmet. Familiar short hair, it was Rider Zero.

“Hello! Long time no see!”

“Yes, long time no see.”

I quietly looked at the motorcycle. Is there still gas left? Gasoline has a shelf life of six months, and we can barely use it until the end of summer.

‘If the gasoline runs out…’

No, before that, can’t we find a way to use it? The rider’s activity range crossing the city is vast. Can’t we hide a virus or something? Is it difficult?

Park Yang-gun stepped forward.

“I want to send a reply to the letter. How much should I pay?”

“Ah, a letter. Then this.”

Rider Zero’s eyes curved. A merchant-like voice came out.

“There’s the cost of gas, and the risk we take, so it’s more expensive than you think. Is that okay?”

“Don’t beat around the bush, just say it.”

“Then…”

Rider Zero whispered. Hearing the price, Park Yang-gun jumped up. Then he threw the letter to the ground.

“No way! Go away!”

“Hey. This is actually cheap, you know? Who travels around the city these days?”

“We’re poor too! Don’t you see the blackout and no people around? We don’t have resources to waste.”

A natural lie. We have enough resources to send a letter, but we don’t show off that we’re doing well.

I nodded and added.

“Everything’s ruined. Some died in internal conflicts, some left because of the blackout, and bad pillagers and scavengers swept through.”

Just a glance shows this place is a ruin. No signs of life. The lights are all out, no candles or any lighting. No smell of dinner.

Rider Zero also looked around the street anew, then bent down to pick up the letter.

“Hey. Then I’ll do it as a service this time. Call me if you have anything to deliver next time. Ah, this is a restaurant we run, order if you want proper food.”

She took out an A4 paper from her pocket, which had a menu-like list of food and prices. Probably recruited some chefs like the boss who used to serve pufferfish poison.

A list of dishes elevated from simple seasonings and preserved foods. Or fresh side dishes like wild greens or dog and pigeon meat dishes.

But Park Yang-gun shook his head and naturally moved his hand. With a pickpocket-like motion, he retrieved the letter.

“No news is good news. Forget the letter. Tell me about the location and atmosphere there instead.”

“I can’t do that. Selling information ruins our business.”

I quietly looked at Park Yang-gun. Is he planning to go himself? He said he wouldn’t.

“My wife and daughter. It’s not something I can’t ask, right?”

Park Yang-gun handed over a plastic bag with a lighter and cigarettes, and Rider Zero, after some hesitation, took the bag and let out a faint sigh.

“Near the mountain, people who used to enjoy hiking live there. They pitch tents, pick wild greens, hunt animals, sell them to us, and use public restroom water.”

They’ve strategized well. Not just focusing on wild living, but supplementing necessary resources by selling scarce items like wild greens and meat to the Delivery Vigilante Group.

Park Yang-gun smiled faintly in relief.

But Rider Zero mentioned their problem.

“But because of the rain, they can’t hold out and are showing signs of coming down to the city, so they’re contacting around. Do you have a place to join?”

People coming down from the mountain to escape the rainy season and typhoons.

Suddenly, a map formed in my mind, and scenes of zombies and people clashing came to mind.

Zombies wandering in search of food and drink. People moving from areas with broken infrastructure to intact zones. Conflicts over scarce resources.

The letter Park Yang-gun received was a declaration of war. A declaration that they will take over your territory and resources.

The season of war has come.

 

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