Chapter 78


For several days, we moved diligently, sweating profusely.

Park Yang-gun and Jeondohyeong handled the trades.

They sold potted plants to the police planning the Survivor Zone and bought three handguns. They also sold televisions, computers, and wires to the Electric Nomad and obtained electric spears and makeshift explosives.

Additionally, they dismantled car hoods to provide to the Hope Community in exchange for slingshots and shields.

Sajihyeok spread rumors subtly, and by the time the rumors matured, I went around meeting people.

We raised our voices together, seeking companions to pillage when a big target appeared.

I walked quietly under the bright moonlight, holding a map.

“Where should I go today…?”

There were many places. Several red circles were drawn on the map.

Areas where robbers scammed people with fake trades, bandits like me blocking roads and collecting tolls, scavengers rummaging through corpses, and settlements of people who abandoned morality for survival.

After checking the areas where warnings to be cautious spread by word of mouth.

I rustled my raincoat, worried it might rain, and checked the map again.

‘It’s hard to find my way since I can’t turn on my mobile phone.’

Even with the bright moonlight, the city had no electric lights. Dense concrete buildings became walls of a maze, and roads covered in darkness and trash robbed me of my sense of direction.

With wide eyes, I cautiously took each step. Avoiding zombies or people, sometimes carefully observing the turned-off neon signs, and stopping to check if I was on the right path.

After a while, I arrived at the first destination.

‘Is no one here? I heard robbers who lure people with fake trades appear here.’

Looking around the white moonlit road, it felt familiar. A road littered with buses and delivery trucks. A memory flashed.

The scammer who wanted to buy lettuce. Around the time Park Yang-gun received a letter from his family, the scammers who came to our territory and were killed by us.

I closed and opened my eyes, looking up at the sky.

“These are the people I killed.”

It’s a bust from the start. I wanted to shake hands, but they’re already corpses. If I knew it would turn out like this, I would have spared them.

The thought that living people have value crossed my mind, but I sighed deeply and scattered the thought.

Why think about future value? It’s better to take one more step in this time.

‘The bandits should be fine since I didn’t touch them.’

I walked the streets again and arrived at the second destination.

An alley where bandits similar to me, collecting tolls, appear. The sound of heavy breathing came from the shadowy path where moonlight was blocked by walls.

“St-stop. You, you.”

“Yes, I stopped.”

I turned my head, putting my hand in the pocket with the handgun. There was a clear presence between the utility pole and the wall. The sound of hands pressing against the wall, heavy footsteps.

Soon, a black figure appeared before me.

A man leaning against the wall with one hand on his stomach. In his hand covering his stomach was a gun, trembling.

“Antibiotics. Give me antibiotics. If not, I’ll die.”

“…They’re expired, so I can’t guarantee their effectiveness. Is that okay?”

I quietly observed the man. He clearly wasn’t in good shape. He stepped into the faint moonlight, revealing his face.

Oily hair, unfocused eyes, skin drenched in cold sweat. Looking down, his abdomen was bleeding through his clothes.

I quickly recalled Professor Kim’s knowledge and spoke like a doctor.

“You’re infected. The antibiotics I have won’t work for this type of infection.”

There are many types of antibiotics. Some for skin diseases, some for bronchitis, and others for sepsis or other illnesses.

Without expertise, it’s hard to use them properly. It’s no wonder doctors and pharmacists are highly valued in the apocalypse.

At that moment, the man shouted and pointed the gun at me.

“Stop talking and give it to me!”

“Yes, then…”

I subtly moved to the side, pretending to search my pocket. My hand gripped the gun. Glancing at the man, he was already suffering from high fever and slow reactions. The gun barrel couldn’t follow my movements.

“Here’s the medicine. It’ll ease your pain.”

Hiding behind the utility pole, I pulled out the gun and fired. I pulled the trigger repeatedly. Bang, bang, bang, gunshots echoed. My gunshots, and the reflexive shots from his gun.

Thud, thud, dust flew from the wall. I held my breath, looking at the bullet lodged near my foot. A slight mistake, and my foot would have been shot.

Soon, a thud was heard. The gunfire stopped. Silence fell over the alley.

‘Did I get him?’

I waited, pressed against the utility pole. He might be pretending to be dead.

Even when I subtly stuck out a hammer, there was no reaction. Carefully peeking out, I saw the man lying motionless.

I threw the hammer at the man, and after confirming he didn’t move, I ran over and picked up the hammer, repeatedly hitting his head.

“Why, what’s with this?”

A sigh escaped, and my legs gave out. Leaning against the wall, I looked down at the corpse.

Even though they were notorious for their evil deeds, they were all either dead or about to die. It makes pillaging seem like a hopeless profession.

While large groups discuss survival zones, pillagers are dying out.

After fiddling with my mask, I searched the man’s corpse, took his handgun, and stood up. Surely, the scavengers aren’t like this.

***

I walked for a while longer.

The area where scavengers gathered to sleep was far from Villa Street, near the river. They lived under a bridge by the river.

As I approached the river, the air felt stickier with moisture. The police vest, leather jacket, and jeans clung to my skin. Even the mask was damp with sweat.

Rustling in my raincoat, I finally arrived at the destination.

The sound of the river flowing, a small bridge blocked by abandoned cars. Descending the stairs to the riverside path, I sensed movement in the deep shadows under the bridge.

Murmuring voices, cursing voices.

I’m in the right place. Honestly, I don’t understand why they sleep here instead of safe buildings, but as long as there are people, it’s fine.

“Anyone here?”

I clicked on the flashlight. Scavengers lying around the riverside began to rise.

People on makeshift beds of cardboard boxes, newspapers, or mats. Wearing short sleeves and shorts due to the heat, their hair was somewhat clean, likely washed in the river.

They squinted at my flashlight, picking up metal pipes.

“What are you doing?”

“Shining a light while people are sleeping?”

There were quite a few people. I fired a shot towards the river. Gunfire is the best way to start a friendly conversation.

“I came to talk. Put down your weapons. Don’t think about coming behind me to hit me.”

Hearing the gunshot, the scavengers hesitated, then looked towards someone deep under the bridge.

Shining my flashlight, I saw someone wearing sunglasses in the night, gesturing.

“Everyone, pick up your weapons. If you want to talk, pick up your weapons first.”

Chaotic sounds came from all directions. Quickly swinging the flashlight, I saw scavengers pulling out bows and handguns.

They really pick up everything. Even medical tools seemed to be in the boxes.

The scavenger leader tapped the spot in front of him.

“Sit here. Don’t worry, we won’t hit you from behind.”

“…”

I slowly moved and sat down. I thought scavengers acted individually, but it seemed they gathered around this person.

A person wearing a bucket hat, sunglasses, and a mask, completely hiding their face.

Even their voice was hard to distinguish as male or female.

“Call me Mr. Ho. So, what do you need? Weapons, tools, medicine. If the price is right, we can provide anything. Or if there’s something specific you need, we can fetch it for you.”

“…”

I kept my mouth shut. I had a feeling. This is bad. These scavengers have already evolved into a survivor group.

A group that connects with other groups by selling found items or fetching items for them. Essentially, they’re mercenaries and subcontractors.

‘They have the capability to participate in the survival zone. At least, they can coexist with the survival zone.’

I couldn’t propose cooperation.

I slightly lifted my baseball cap, wiping my forehead. Sweat soaked through my leather gloves. A hollow laugh escaped.

“Nothing’s going right.”

“What? …Are you okay?”

Mr. Ho tilted his head suspiciously. The sunglasses reflected my flashlight, making it seem like I felt his gaze, but with his face completely covered, I couldn’t be sure.

Then, a scavenger approached, gesturing. I didn’t understand what it meant.

But I instinctively felt uneasy. Thoughts raced.

‘The rumors to be cautious. These people aren’t clean traders. They’re the type to kill and loot if things go south.’

Mr. Ho moved his hand in response. One hand clenched into a fist, the other opened wide. Just as he was about to slap his palm with his fist.

I jumped up and lunged at Mr. Ho.

“Trickery!”

Crash, our bodies tangled. I quickly moved behind Mr. Ho, taking him hostage. One hand pressed the gun to his temple, the other choked his neck.

Mr. Ho coughed, tapping my arm, and I used him as a shield.