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In the end, Park Yang-gun decided not to send the letter. The rider, who had grabbed a cigarette and a lighter in exchange for a few words, put on his helmet and left with a light heart.

Vroom, the noisy engine sound gradually faded until it completely disappeared. Once again, silence fell over Villa Street.

I looked up at the square night sky between the buildings and continued to think about this and that.

‘The season of moving….’

Our Villa Street, being an old building, could hold up even without electricity. There were water tanks on every rooftop, and we could still use gas stoves for fire.

But what about modern buildings? The water pumps would stop, leading to water shortages, and the electric induction stoves would turn into scrap metal. Just losing electricity meant losing both water and fire.

It was a good enough reason to abandon our homes and move. Whether to areas with intact infrastructure or to the waterfront.

And, of course, such movements always lead to conflict.

‘People might fight to claim intact areas, or they might target those who are just moving.’

This conflict is inevitable. I can’t avoid it either. I need to taste the trends moderately and feel how the world is flowing. What’s the survival style of the frontliners these days?

‘Safely, indirectly, block the road and collect tolls.’

Of course, before that, I needed to know what Park Yang-gun was thinking. When I looked down at him, he seemed lost in thought, fiddling with the letter.

“Are you going to go find them? Or just leave it on the street?”

“That’s nonsense.”

When I asked, Park Yang-gun chuckled as he tucked the letter envelope into his chest.

“If I say I’m not worried, I’d be lying. But it’s a relationship that ended with the divorce.”

“Still, you must be really worried.”

Park Yang-gun glanced at me again. A laugh that was almost a scoff escaped him.

“It’s fine. As you said, we’re criminals. It’s right to keep our distance from decent people. And think about your own actions.”

“Huh?”

What’s he talking about? What did I do? At least I’ve never messed with a companion’s family. I even try not to.

If I only bring their family, they’d function as hostages. They’d work harder for their family’s sake, and their sense of belonging would increase.

But Park Yang-gun waved his hand and turned around. He was heading back to the farm villa.

“Anyway, thanks for caring.”

I adjusted my baseball cap, feeling uneasy. Even though it was night, it was hot. My head was drenched in sweat.

***

Time passed slowly. The weather was clear, like the calm before a storm. The sun shone brightly without a single dark cloud, and people began to move gradually, as if in preparation for the coming migration and conflict.

People moved to areas with electricity, others climbed to higher ground to prepare for the rainy season.

Some crossed the streets during the day to avoid zombies, while others moved sluggishly during planned blackouts.

During the day, I stood by the curtained window and observed them. At night, I went out to block the roads.

Tonight was no different.

“Sajihyeok, keep boiling it.”

The street was cleared of cars to use as weapons. Sajihyeok and I sat in the middle of the road with a table and chairs, boiling water on a gas burner. It was a mix of expired drinks and melted ice cream—liquid garbage.

We also placed water guns, hammers, and iron clubs on or against the table.

They were items prepared for a fight. Park Yang-gun was probably at the building window, aiming a handgun, while Jeondohyeong was hiding in the car, ready to ram it if necessary.

Sajihyeok looked at the bubbling pot and gagged.

“Ugh. Why are we boiling this instead of just using water?”

“We need to save water.”

“But it’s food waste… Why not just let them pass? Why pretend to be bandits?”

I glanced at Sajihyeok. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but he wasn’t entirely right either.

We needed to block people from settling in Villa Street, and we also needed to gauge how other survivors were adapting to the apocalypse.

Moreover, everyone was struggling to find their own way to survive, and we needed to learn from them. How they reused things, how they utilized resources.

But Sajihyeok didn’t understand my deeper intentions and was just spouting nonsense.

“Are you bored? Because the electricity’s out? Haha, what a hobby…”

“No…”

I opened my mouth but couldn’t refute him.

I was bored. I couldn’t even dream of using a computer. Using a mobile phone felt like a waste of car fuel. I had no hobbies to pass the time. All I did was stare blankly at the sky, suffer from the heat, and get annoyed.

While collecting survival essentials, I didn’t have books or board games. Park Yang-gun had somehow gotten hold of some playing cards and suggested gambling with cigarettes, but that wasn’t fun.

In a way, life was more boring than when I was in the military.

‘Am I really doing this because I’m bored?’

I tried to objectively assess my feelings. It was impossible.

As I was doing that, a bright light shone from afar. I turned my head and quickly adjusted my chair to face that direction.

“Someone’s coming. Get ready.”

“Yeah, it’s not like this is the first time. I know my role.”

We leaned back in our chairs and waited for the people to approach.

Beyond the white flashlight beam, more than four figures walked quietly. The flashlight swayed left and right, illuminating us before stopping. Their footsteps also stopped.

Then they slowly started walking backward, moving away. It seemed like they sensed our intentions weren’t good and were trying to avoid us.

I quickly raised my hand and waved.

“Stop! Come here. If you’ve entered someone else’s territory, you should at least show your face.”

Their footsteps stopped. Then their formation spread out left and right as they slowly approached. They raised their weapons as if ready to fight.

I squinted against the bright light and tried to assess the group.

‘Six people?’

A family of four—two parents and two kids who looked like middle or high school students. Plus two adults who might be friends or relatives of the parents, making six in total.

Their weapons were simple melee weapons—metal pipes with insulation tape or rope wrapped around the handles, machetes, or sharp knives.

The father figure had a machete slung over his shoulder, ready to strike at any moment. He even stepped forward aggressively to secure a favorable distance.

To maintain a safe distance, I aimed the water gun at him and pulled the trigger, shooting water at the ground.

“Stop. That machete looks dangerous. If you come any closer, I might accidentally shoot.”

“A water gun? Zombie fluid?”

The father, who seemed to be the spokesperson, hid the kids behind him and gave me a wary look. He glanced around and adjusted his grip on the machete.

“Just the two of you?”

“You think two people can’t fight?”

I leisurely grabbed the pot handle with my other hand. My gaze shifted to the kids. The bubbling suspicious liquid was a useful weapon. Just splashing it would be an area attack.

“I can definitely handle the kids. Want to try?”

Of course, if it really came to a fight, I’d splash it and run. I didn’t want to risk injury. Especially since Jeondohyeong was ready to ram them with the car.

The moonlight turned the weapons silver. As sweat dripped down, Sajihyeok laughed and stepped in to mediate.

“This guy’s at it again. Everyone, calm down. We don’t want to fight either. Getting hurt in a fight would be such a loss.”

It was the good cop, bad cop routine. A strategy so common that everyone knew it, but it was proven effective.

But the other side remained tense, watching my hands closely.

“So. What do you want?”

“A toll. Just a little. If I asked for too much, you’d swing that machete, right?”

“…Here.”

As expected, if you don’t push things to the extreme, it doesn’t escalate to a fight. Most people avoid fighting unless they’re extremely aggressive.

As the adult at the end of the line rummaged through his pocket, the daughter muttered angrily.

“Why are we giving them anything? We’re just passing through. Can’t we just kill them? There’s more of us.”

“Shut up!”

Were they well-off before? They didn’t seem to have the instincts of survivors. They were probably moving because the electricity was cut off. I chuckled and crouched down.

“You didn’t teach her well. Kid, if you want to kill someone, don’t say it out loud. Just stab them with that knife. Do you think I’d just stand here if you said that?”

I was wearing a police vest, so I could block the knife. I placed the steaming pot back on the gas burner and grabbed a hammer.

Sajihyeok panicked and grabbed my hand.

“Hey, calm down!”

“I’m not going to kill them. If I were…”

I used a different approach. Close combat was too dangerous.

I waved my hand dismissively at the people holding their weapons high.

“Just leave it there and go.”

“Here.”

A pack of cigarettes, almost like currency, fell to the ground. Sajihyeok smoothly wrapped things up.

“Alright, if you’re upset, let it out. We’re just trying to survive. Oh, did you come from far away? Want some information?”

“What information?”

Sajihyeok, the good cop, shared some local knowledge.

Be careful if you see a corpse with garbage in its mouth. There are smart zombies. Zombies that have learned siege tactics. Avoid them. Don’t pick up food from the ground near the hospital area. It’s laced with poison.

It was information meant to avoid leaving a bad impression, since we weren’t planning to wipe them out.

The intruders listened carefully, then dropped a few more packs of cigarettes on the ground before slowly moving away.

Then, a new presence was felt. It came from the direction the previous group had come from, but this time it wasn’t a target—it was competition.

“What’s this? People? Hey, you guys. Did you pick up a lot? Share if you did.”

It was a familiar voice. The scammer who wanted to buy lettuce. A professional pillager. He must have come to scavenge in the area without electricity.

I quickly turned on my phone and sent a message to Jeondohyeong. Kill the pillagers.

I held the pot and hammer in each hand as the previous group quietly retreated.

At the same time, headlights lit up brightly behind the pillagers.

The accelerating car sped forward without braking. In the bright headlights, I saw the pillagers scattering. Some threw themselves onto the dirty roadside, others jumped, some lay flat, and some cursed.

“It’s a trap!”

“Ahhh!”

Maybe because the car didn’t build up enough speed. No one was sent flying spectacularly. They fell onto the road, were run over by the car, and their screams stretched out.

I ran over excitedly.

‘One guy dodged onto the sidewalk, another lay flat in the middle of the road to avoid the wheels.’

People’s survival instincts were impressive. Even with a car charging from behind, two of them dodged. We had to kill them before they got any stronger.

The car slowed down and stopped in front of me. Jeondohyeong got out with a hand axe, and Sajihyeok came running up behind me.

“Get them! Kill them!”

“On it!”

The pillagers tried to run. One with a broken leg hopped on one foot, another turned his body frantically, and another stumbled out of the sidewalk littered with trash and corpses.

Leave the injured, they’ll die. Kill the healthy ones first.

“Wait! Spare me!”

I swung the pot at the guy who stumbled onto the road. The hot liquid splashed over his face. He screamed and wiped his face with his sleeve.

Meanwhile, the guy with both legs intact was caught by Jeondohyeong and Sajihyeok. Specifically, he dodged Jeondohyeong’s thrown hand axe but tripped over Sajihyeok, who had fallen in his direction, and was caught.

“Let go!”

“Huh? Uh!”

I silenced the burned guy by hitting his head like turning off an alarm clock, then walked over to them.

The captured guy stopped struggling. We surrounded him—me, Jeondohyeong, and Sajihyeok. His pupils seemed to shake.

I crouched in front of him and hit his ear with the hammer. It felt like crushing a bug and hitting asphalt.

“Ahh!”

“Where’s your stash of resources?”

Since we’d caught him, we might as well take whatever resources they had stockpiled.

The pillager, watching my hammer, swallowed hard and stuttered.

“Food, cigarettes, that kind of stuff.”

Then he suddenly stood up and got close to me. The knife in his hand disappeared from view as he stabbed my stomach. The stab-resistant vest absorbed the impact.

“You think we’d have that, huh?”

I calmly looked at the pillager in front of me. This was the kind of person who’d stab someone in the stomach during a conversation. Violence was more effective than words with him.

“This isn’t working.”

Thud, thud, thud—the sound of crushing garlic.

A corpse lay where I had persuaded him. I shook my head and stood up, brushing off my police vest.

Looking back, Sajihyeok and Jeondohyeong were cleaning up. They finished off the injured, searched the pockets, and waved to the family group.

Jeondohyeong was staring blankly at the kids disappearing into the darkness. I tapped him.

“There’s no stockpiled resources. No other companions either. Did you see those people?”

“I did, why?”

Jeondohyeong turned to look at me. I pointed to the hand axe he was holding and my hammer.

“I noticed they had rope or insulation tape wrapped around the handles. There must be a reason for that.”

“Oh, that’s paracord. It’s originally parachute cord, but it’s versatile. I have some too.”

Listening to Jeondohyeong, it seemed like a useful tool. It could be wrapped around slippery surfaces to prevent slipping, absorb shock when swung, or used as rope in emergencies.

I thought about the survivors I’d seen. Everyone had something to teach, no matter how small. And everyone had survival skills.

 

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