Marauder of the Apocalypse

Chapter 36: Friendly Neighbors [1]

Perhaps it's because I've shed blood in the battle between life and death. The people of Villa Street have started to show signs of being survivors of the apocalypse.

The uncle relentlessly tracked down the traitor and hung the body of the traitor on a roadside tree, and the people on the street no longer feared the battle. Instead, they actively took up weapons and flashed their bloodthirsty eyes.

The apartment raid failed, but it's a growth through failure.

I like it. It's fortunate that the members of the looters didn't carry out a virus terror attack. This is enough for us to live together for a while.

'Separate living, almost no obligations or rules, and a residence that's okay to be waved off.'

That's why I acted as a kind neighbor and a member of Villa Street with them.

Click-

"The door is open."

"The stun gun is performing well. Thank you."

The taser gun in front of the door that lost its function in the villa. My peaceful villa was not, but another vacant house on Villa Street.

A house on the third floor that is difficult to enter with a ladder. A food storehouse where treasures are sleeping.

And of course, there is a threat in the treasure trove. Zombies. We sensed the presence beyond the door, and the uncle raised his fist and shouted loudly.

"Safety first!"

"Good! Good! Good!"

The response came to our shouts to alert the zombies. Something was clearly rushing from beyond the door.

We continued to shout and familiarly prepared the formation. One person grabbed the handle and pressed against the door, another held up a makeshift net woven from a thin blanket, and the uncle gripped an iron pipe.

"Open!"

"Opening!"

The door swung open wide. The person who opened the door hid between the door and the wall. The zombies rushed in wildly, but they were knocked over by the thrown blanket net.

"Eeek!"

A dull thud resounded above them.

"Kill it!"

"Watch out for more inside!"

Thud, thud, thud, the dull sounds continued like the patter of rain. Dust swirled, and red stains were added to the blanket.

Soon the zombie's struggles ceased. The people sighed with relief.

"Fortunately, there was only one."

But complacency is premature. I suspiciously lowered the blanket and gripped the hammer.

As the net handler was rolling up the blanket, the crouched zombie suddenly raised its head. The zombie, dripping blood and saliva from its torn lips, sprang up with bloodshot eyes.

"Aaah!"

"Ah!"

Despite its broken leg, it rushed desperately, even as it stumbled and fell.

I swung the hammer lightly as if I had been waiting. I felt a crisp, lively sound and a heavy hand touch. I muttered softly.

"So it's not dead just because it fell down..."

Whether it's a zombie or a person, confirming the kill is essential. Even if it falls down like it's really dead, you have to hit it a few more times.

If you learn something, you have to put it into practice right away. I struck the back of the fallen zombie's head a few more times.

People turned their eyes away from the disgusting sight of the blood and debris spreading.

"Well, you don't have to go that far, do you?"

"But it's a person, a corpse..."

I shook my head seriously.

"People don't die easily. Zombies are people too, so you can't let your guard down. Just now, someone could have died."

A chicken still moves its body for a while even after its neck is cut. The same goes for snakes - the severed head can still bite for a while.

Humans also have the vitality of animals. While they can easily die from trivial things, they can also stubbornly live with wounds that are not fatal.

Only the uncle who had greatly grown as a survivor showed a somewhat practical attitude.

"What was the name of the young man from Peace Villa? I forgot."

"Kim Da-in."

"Da? Like 'dying'? Is that an English name?"

"No. It's 'many' and 'benevolent'."

"That's a good meaning. Anyway, Da-in seems to be adapting the best to these times because he's young. We should learn from him."

The meaning doesn't really matter much. According to what I heard from my late parents, they chose the name Da-in because it sounded good, and they just added the hanja characters.

The uncle crouched down. He reached out and rummaged through the body. It was looting, a behavior that follows the end of a hunt.

"Let's see. Who is this?"

He searched the pockets of the body, looking for car keys, a wallet, house keys, and the like. Then he took out an ID card from the wallet and murmured.

"Mr. Kim Gwi-sik. As a neighbor, I'm saddened that things have turned out this way. I pray for the repose of the deceased."

He briefly offered a silent prayer.

It was a warm scene. In this day and age, who would pray for the repose of the dead? Even for a zombie who tried to kill me. This must be the kindness of neighbors, the remaining humanity in the age of the apocalypse.

The uncle then took out stickers, a notebook, and a ballpoint pen from his pocket and wrote something down.

Peeking over, he was sticking a sticker with the address on Kim Gwi-sik's house keys and recording it in the notebook. The car and house are all resources, after all.

The brief ritual was over. The uncle extended the pipe.

"Alright, let's go look for food first."

***

We wandered around the empty houses on the villa street for a long time. Sometimes we killed the zombies inside the houses, sometimes we collected the bodies of those who had committed suicide, and sometimes we released the pets that were about to starve to death on the streets.

Of course, we also harvested a lot. Just considering the rice and kimchi, it was enough for the people on the street to get by.

We laid out cardboard boxes on the street. The food was evenly distributed in the boxes. It was for the people who had searched the houses and the elderly and infirm who couldn't go out.

People with unhealed wounds on their faces muttered softly as they looked at their share of the food.

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"Isn't it a bit unfair to distribute it so equally? We risked our lives searching the houses, but the people who stayed at home are getting the same share."

"No, they worked just as hard, didn't they?"

I quickly restrained him as a kind neighbor, not out of conscience, but for the sake of the elderly.

The elderly? Children? Aren't they energy-saving machines that do the labor of one person while eating less? In fact, they had not just been waiting for us at home, but had been diligently farming.

We collected plastic bottles and flowerpots, and planted the seeds we had received from the community of hope.

In the apocalypse, it was a world where you couldn't eat without working.

The uncle quickly settled the mood that was about to get a little strange. He pointed the iron pipe towards the direction of the apartments across the street.

"Let's not argue too much among people in the same neighborhood. There aren't many people left anyway. We should think about those apartment folks."

The external enemy.

Many people had disappeared from the street due to the clash that had happened that day. Not only were there not a few who had died on the spot, but there were also those who had died alone without receiving treatment for their injuries, and those who had been hunted down by the cunning zombies while trying to go to the hospital.

And the battle that did not annihilate one side had deepened the rift of conflict.

People shared the same emotions. Anger, murderous intent.

"Those crazy bastards. They dragged out the time until the blackout, and then shot at us while surrounding us, trying to kill us."

"If they were in their right mind, would they have killed the police and stolen the gun? Those guys are just murderers."

I poured oil on the fire.

"They will definitely come to kill us and loot. They need a lot of food to feed all those people. We have to prepare to fight them."

The survivors hardened by the apocalypse turned their eyes red with a satisfying bloodlust.

"... Shall we attack first? What if we set them on fire?"

"If only we could get our hands on some firearms..."

Now the problem was not resources. The enemy who had crossed the impassable river next door had to be wiped out in order to feel safe.

The uncle shook his head with a gloomy expression.

"No, can't do. Their vigilance has increased. It got worse after I killed that Prak-chi. They've set it up like a military base."

He turned his gaze to me.

"Any good ideas? No ignoring it like last time. The more vicious, the better."

I showed a perplexed expression. I'm not an expert in this. Just asking didn't make ideas pop up.

Virus terrorism? Zombie saliva in water bottles? No, people were now more vigilant, and we boiled water to drink. How about cola or drinks? Or cat fur with zombie saliva? If you touch it unknowingly... Or cigarettes?

No, too impulsive. A plan that is not carefully refined is not a plan.

"I'll have to think about it..."

"Okay, Da-in can ponder the attack. I'll think about defense."

And so the day seemed to pass fruitfully.

The people who were about to distribute the boxes to the elderly and infirm suddenly looked behind me. They put down the boxes and gripped their weapons.

As I turned my head, a neat-looking man was approaching.

***

A man in a neat suit, wearing cracked glasses, with an intellectual appearance. He looked like a young businessman in his 30s. He quickly bowed to us.

"Hello! I'm Sagi Hyeok! If you have a spare house, I'd like to move in. Is that okay?"

"Move in...?"

The people muttered blankly.

I focused on his name. Sagi Hyeok? Is he a con artist? This light-hearted thought unconsciously slipped out of my mouth.

"A con artist?"

"Haha. You're quite amusing. Other than when I was a student, this is the first time my name has been made fun of."

...What? Did he turn it around and insult me in a roundabout way? But the people around me are all respectable people. I'm a very kind person, Jeon Do-hyeong is an electric thief, and Park Yang-gun is a thief.

While I was having these thoughts, the people had taken up weapons. This is not an era to welcome strangers.

A menacing voice continued.

"Are you from the apartments? Where are you from?"

"Ah, yes, I lived in an apartment. I lived in a 30 billion won apartment, but these days, that doesn't really matter. Dividing by residential area is a bit..."

A smooth-talking response. It seems he's not one of the hated apartment people. But I can't let my guard down.

The ajusshi pointed to a dangling corpse on a tree with an iron pipe.

"Hey, go check what's written on that sign."

Sagi Hyeok confidently walked over, touching his cracked glasses as he checked the sign.

"Pprakchi? Ah, Pprakchi. The pronunciation is nice and rich!"

What the hell is this guy doing? Why does it feel like he's mocking everything?

Sagi Hyeok returned in front of the ajusshi and laughed boldly. He wore confidence like a garment.

"I'm not the kind of person who would do such a thing. I was originally a small business owner, but after the I-virus outbreak, everything was ruined, so I've been looking for a place to live. Would it be okay if I moved in here?"

I took a deep breath.

I can't figure out what kind of person he is. If the pastor was a staunch mystic, this guy just seems a bit odd. It's a subtle feeling, hard to judge.

The ajusshi raised his hand to his head as if he had a headache, then quickly lowered it. He seemed to be cautious about virus infection.

Frowning and pondering, he took out one of the collected keys.

"The people in the neighborhood are a bit lacking."

The number of combat-capable people and the elderly/infirm is similar. It seems he's accepting him for now to fill that number.

The ajusshi pointed menacingly to the Pprakchi corpse as he continued.

"If you mess around, I'll kill you. Go find him and I'll kill you for sure. If you're confident, take the key."

"Ah, of course. Just give me work, and I'll do it diligently. Right, shall I start moving these things?"

Sagi Hyeok took the key and smiled, quickly picking up the boxes. And under our watchful eyes, he worked diligently and sincerely.

He didn't secretly steal food, didn't take out his phone, and greeted the people politely, bowing his head.

Even as we subtly ostracized and shunned him, he smiled and tried to blend in, like a friendly neighbor.

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