Chapter 5: Is This Your Dear Old Dad?
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 5: Is This Your Dear Old Dad?
When people think of a zombie apocalypse, they usually imagine hundreds of zombies swarming in from all directions.
Whether it’s in movies or games, that kind of spectacle has a huge impact, so it’s a common trope.
But in reality, it’s not like that.
Wait, is that right?
Since this isn't actually "reality," it’s a bit weird to call it that, but at the very least, the behavioral patterns of zombies in a zombie apocalypse are different.
Every zombie has its own reaction radius.
It’s not like every zombie within a one-kilometer radius comes charging just because there’s a noise; there are specific conditions they react to.
To put it simply, the main one is sound.
And then there’s line of sight.
Surprisingly, smell isn't much of a stimulant for them.
In the first place, a zombie is a rotting or decaying corpse, so the idea of them having a sense of smell seems like a logical flaw, doesn't it?
That’s why I don’t particularly worry about noise when I’m outside.
It’s also why I didn't bother sneaking around when I went to get the mattress.
There are more ambient noises outside than you’d think.
Sounds carry from a distance, and unless it’s exceptionally loud, zombies further away won't react.
Of course, the sound of a golf club crushing a zombie’s skull is loud enough to draw them from a fair distance.
And that was exactly what I intended.
"Phew."
I’d killed about ten of them.
Looking at the zombie corpses scattered across the ground, it finally felt like I was actually playing a zombie apocalypse game.
If I left them like this, they’d start to reek of rotting flesh, but I didn't really care.
I was used to it, and even though it was right in front of my house, the Safe Base effect blocked out all smells and sounds.
Leaving them to pile up wasn't ideal—they’d smell every time I stepped out and attract bugs—but there was no need to clean them up right this second.
I wasn't the only one living here.
If the others didn't like it, they could clean it up themselves.
"...Excuse me."
The sun had set.
Since no more zombies were coming, I was about to head inside when I heard a voice calling out to me.
A human voice.
Why does hearing a human voice feel so welcoming?
And it was a woman, too.
Female voices have never disappointed me in this multi-server, at least not yet.
I looked around.
She wasn't on the street.
Well, obviously. I’d just made a scene and lured in all the nearby zombies; there was no way some crazy bitch would be following me on foot.
I looked up.
The voice came from quite close, somewhere above me.
A woman was calling out to me from an unexpected place.
"Um... could you help me?"
The floor above mine.
My eyes met a woman’s as she cautiously called to me through an open window on the second floor.
"...Huh?"
"You're the mister from downstairs, right? Please, help me."
I couldn't see her clearly because the lights were off.
The streetlights in this alley were flickering sporadically, and it would have been ridiculous for all the lights to be on in this situation anyway.
Sure, there were a few houses where people hadn't come to their senses yet and left the lights on, but the second floor was dark, so I couldn't get a good look.
But I knew.
I recognized that frumpy silhouette visible in the dim shadows.
I hadn't seen her often, but she was the person I encountered most frequently in real life.
The woman upstairs.
Or should I call her the "Auntie from the 2nd floor"?
She looked older than me.
She was clearly in her forties, yet every time she saw me, that bitch called me "Mister."
I’m thirty now, so it’s not like I’m too young to be called that, but hearing it from an "Auntie" like her really rubbed me the wrong way.
Matching her trembling voice to her face just made it more nauseating.
As someone who’s never even had sex, I’m not exactly in a position to judge women by their looks, but I still didn't like that woman.
It wasn't because she was ugly or fat.
Even back when I lived a life disconnected from reality, the few times I was dragged back into the real world were usually because of her.
It was fine when I had the VR on and was playing Zombie Apocalypse.
But even during the only time I slept in reality—thump, thump.
Even when I stepped out for a moment—thump, thump.
The inter-floor noise was constant, no matter what she was doing. And in the early hours of the morning, her moans would drift through the non-existent soundproofing.
She didn't look like the type to be having sex, and I never heard a man’s voice, so I didn't care to wonder why she was making those noises.
As if being a shitty neighbor wasn't enough, she’d occasionally come down and bang on my door, pulling me out of the game just to ask for some bullshit favor like changing a lightbulb or unclogging her toilet.
I was genuinely surprised.
I didn't think anyone could be such a nuisance in this day and age.
And yet, here she was—the woman who had the audacity to keep coming back despite being ignored every time.
"Holy shit. This game is incredibly well-made."
Did they scan my brain to create this?
How is the synchronization high enough for me to recognize her so clearly even in the dark?
Even her voice and way of speaking were identical.
"Help you with what?"
My gut told me to ignore her and go inside, but this wasn't reality.
In the world of Zombie Apocalypse, I am not the same person I am in real life.
An amusing thought occurred to me, so I asked.
The woman brightened up and started blabbing away.
"Could you come up to my place and put my father in the master bedroom?"
"..."
The studio apartment building I live in is a small, four-story structure.
My place is a tiny five-pyeong room on the first floor, but I knew the units from the second floor up were at least two-room suites.
"Do it yourself."
"No, I... I'm not in a position to go out right now. Please, just help me. Okay?"
The bitch was mixing informal and formal speech in the most annoying way possible.
I could tell exactly what was going on just by looking at her.
She was asking me to move her father from a small room—no, that’s the bathroom—to the bedroom. It was obvious.
She wanted me to go in there and die.
If I was lucky, I might kill her father, who had turned into a zombie.
Ultimately, once the front door was open, the zombie would leave, and that’s when she planned to make her escape.
"What's the passcode?"
If this were reality, I would have ignored her and gone back inside.
She had the option of jumping out the second-floor window, so there was no real need to help her.
But this was Zombie Apocalypse.
"0449221. Please, hurry."
As a veteran with 100,000 hours of experience, I couldn't just let a bitch like her slide.
I immediately ran up to the second floor.
In all the years I’d lived in this building, this was the first time I’d ever gone above my own floor.
Room 201.
I punched in the numbers she gave me, and the door opened.
Beep-bee-beep—
The door swung open with a chime.
The interior of the house was fully visible.
It was definitely more spacious than my place.
The living room and kitchen were connected, and I could see one bedroom and a closed bathroom door.
And there, scratching frantically at the bathroom door, was a single zombie.
It was an old zombie with a hunched back.
Seeing as it didn't even react to the sound of the door opening, it was a low-HP zombie that could drop dead at any moment.
I walked in slowly.
I propped the front door open, then grabbed the elderly zombie by the neck and shoved him toward the bedroom.
"Keheck! Ke-heck!"
Only then did the zombie start struggling belatedly.
After stuffing him into the room, I slammed the door shut and stepped back out.
"What happened? Are you here? Did you get rid of him?"
"..."
A zombie is a zombie.
While you can find vaccines as you progress through the game, the drop rate is so low that becoming a zombie is essentially a death sentence.
Even so.
To ask if I’d "cleared out" her own father who turned into a zombie on the very first day...
She was something else.
Thud!
"Kyaak! What was that?!"
Instead of answering, I smashed the bathroom door once with my golf club and then started raiding the fridge and kitchen.
I pulled out all the food and dumped it on the floor.
"What are you doing?! Mister! Hey! Did you get rid of the zombie or not?!"
I put on a random pair of shoes from the shoe rack, stomped the food into a mess, and then started bashing the bedroom door where I’d locked the zombie.
Thud! Crash!
"Kyaaaaak! What is it?!"
The door broke easily.
I kicked the zombie as it tried to rush out, knocking it down, and then I smashed the bathroom door.
The door shattered, and after I kicked it open, I saw a pig-like woman huddling inside, looking at me with eyes full of terror.
"Is this your dear old dad?"
I grabbed the lunging zombie by the neck and shoved it into the bathroom with her.
"...!"
I left the woman there, so shocked she couldn't even scream.
I left the front door open, so I figured she’d survive somehow.
Returning to my own home, the silence brought me peace of mind.
"This is what a multi-server is all about."
To be honest, I hadn't really felt the difference between the multi-server and a regular solo server yet.
I hadn't seen a single hair of another user; I’d only encountered NPCs.
But since the NPCs acted so much like real people, I felt like I didn't necessarily need to meet other users.
Maybe just playing like this wouldn't be so bad?
I tossed my blood-stained clothes into the washing machine and took a hot shower.
The world was ending anyway.
I didn't need to worry about the electric bill; I had to enjoy the hot water while it lasted.
After washing up, I lay down on the new mattress, and sleep washed over me instantly.
I fell asleep in less than ten seconds.
It was around 9:00 PM when I lay down, and when I opened my eyes, it was 11:00 AM.
"Wow. I slept like a log."
Fourteen hours straight.
Seeing the sunlight streaming through the window made me feel refreshed.
I stretched and then remembered.
"Ah, right. This is a game."
I’d fallen asleep thinking it was reality because it felt so natural.
Not logging out was part of my daily routine, so that wasn't an issue.
Still, I was trying to avoid playing for too many hours at a time.
Even if it was fun.
You have to take care of your real body to keep playing games.
"Logout."
I’d just take a quick piss, grab something to eat, and come right back.
[Unable to log out.]
"Huh?"
Something was wrong.
[Unable to log out.]
[Unable to log out.]
[Unable to log out.]
[Unable to log out.]
[Unable to log out.]