Rocket Mart (2)

The status window ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠showed a new line under the quests: Collect the seventh Ruin Fragment.

What the hell is this?

I sat on the ramp floor for a moment, pondering. Was it telling me to travel the whole world collecting these Ruin Fragments? No, wait—what even is a Ruin Fragment in the first place?

What happens if I collect them? And why the hell was it asking me to do it? If they're numbered in order, shouldn't it start with the first one? Why jump straight to the seventh?

A sigh escaped my lips naturally. I wasn't some special chosen one. Just an average guy—nothing more, nothing less. A bit selfish, only caring about my family and myself, dreaming of an easy life. Just your typical person.

So what did it expect from someone like me? Find a Savior? Collect Ruin Fragments? Give me a break.

Fuck it.

No point dwelling; there'd be no answer anyway. Just an inorganic status window popping up notifications. All I could do was choose how to handle the bizarre phenomena happening to me.

I opened the status window again. It doesn't seem as forced as that damn New Path thing.

Like before, when I'd maxed out proficiency back at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my apartment, it didn't seem impossible to dismiss the alert entirely. It felt temporary—the notice about collecting the seventh Ruin Fragment vanished as soon as I closed the status window.

But I can't just ignore it.

Still, it was unsettling. It had popped up right when I was debating whether to enter the mart. Before, I'd brushed it off as some inorganic alert tied to my magical abilities. But now it was clear: this status window was directly linked to the zombie outbreak engulfing the entire planet.

Of course, knowing that doesn't change what I can do about it.

I let out a sigh. For now, since things had come to this, I'd probably have to collect that damn seventh Ruin Fragment, just like the status window wanted. Safety first, of course—but it wouldn't tell me to go die just to fetch it, right? The thing had helped me so far.

Besides, I wasn't above wanting to confirm its connection to the zombie crisis and uncover its origins.

But...

I need to bring Jeong Suhyun.

I couldn't do it alone. As a human, blind spots were inevitable. Once or twice wouldn't matter—Ashes Veil could nullify all damage for 6 seconds at 4 mana, even if I'd never tested it. But what if it turned into three, five, ten times?

I'd die.

There's a saying: overreaching against overwhelming odds. That fit me perfectly. No matter how strong my abilities, if zombies swarmed me, I'd be done for.

That was reason enough to bring Jeong Suhyun, even if he seemed half out of his mind.

Problem is getting out of here.

Heading straight to the office was an issue too. I stood, descended the ramp, and headed to the underground parking entrance.

Thud... thud...

The zombies outside still hadn't strayed from the underground parking entrance. I could hear them pounding on the employee door I'd barricaded.

Tsk...

The police car explosion had gone quiet ages ago. Which meant the zombies drawn there were probably patrolling the area now.

Gonna have to kill time here.

Heading out right away seemed risky. I only had mana for nine more Ice Spears anyway.

But it wasn't all bad. I was isolated, sure, but my bag had plenty of food and water. Power and water were still on, so as long as I endured the discomfort and cold, the underground parking would work for rest.

And besides...

There's a break room.

Unlike Benefit Mart's five-level underground lot, Rocket Mart's two-level one had an employee break room inside. No idea why a parking lot needed one, but probably for staff during busy times. Anyway, I headed there.

But...

No.

Clack.

Strangely, all the emergency break room doors on the first underground level were locked. I considered smashing one with an Ice Spear, but making noise here would likely attract the zombies outside. And breaking the door defeated the purpose of a secure rest spot.

So I turned and headed to underground level 2.

Drop.

A leaking fire hydrant made water trickle on underground level 2. Visibility was dim, but with no cars at all, it was easy to scan. Just a puddle on the floor—nothing much ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠different from level 1.

"Ice Spear."

Just in case something lunged out, I floated three spears behind my back.

Look at this atmosphere.

This was horror, this was a zombie flick.

Splash.

I crept carefully across underground level 2 with those thoughts. Then I spotted the employee break room.

Clack.

Luckily, the door was unlocked. I positioned my Ice Spears in front of me and cautiously pushed the door open with a piece of lumber.

Creeeak.

No signs of life.

Empty.

The room was vacant. But traces of humans remained: blankets strewn on the floor, half-empty water bottles, cup ramen trash, and snack bags scattered on the desk. A bloodstained pickaxe suggested they'd barricaded against zombies.

Flicker. Flicker.

Fluorescent lights buzzed—must've been on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but hidden from outside view.

Thwack!

I banged the door with the lumber to flush out any hidden zombies.

Where you at?

None appeared. Seemed like no zombies on level 2 or in the break room. Only then did I relax and step inside.

The smell...

The unventilated room reeked mustily. But it looked fine for a few hours' rest.

Clack.

And the door locked securely. Finally safe, I sank into a chair at the desk.

Usually there'd be a survivor's log or something here.

The windowless room held nothing but what I'd already seen.

Modern society is brutal.

Of course, with the world ending at midnight, no one had time for logs. Still disappointing. And the people here probably weren't the sixteen reservists Jeong Suhyun mentioned.

A woman?

I picked up a makeup pouch from the floor. Looked like a female manager or similar had holed up here.

Smells like shit too.

The weird stench from the water bottle, snacks, and cup ramen confirmed they were early survivors.

So why no zombies?

I hauled the trash outside, then sat back down to think.

No survivors... that tracks.

They probably escaped or something. But that didn't explain zero zombies in the underground parking.

Even if the mart had survivors, they're all wiped out now.

Electricity was still on in this pre-apocalypse world, so anyone alive would've kept lights on. It was daytime now, and from my quick scan earlier, the mart interior seemed lifeless.

But no zombies? That's weird.

Yet oddly, not a single zombie in the parking lot. Even if mart survivors cleared them, there should've been bodies outside.

If there are zombie corpses, no zombies—but if no zombies, there should be corpses.

When I'd entered the Rocket Mart parking lot, no bodies anywhere—inside or out. And no live zombies either.

Tsk...

I rubbed my head. Even an idiot could figure it out by now.

Unlike what Jeong Suhyun said, no signs of life in the mart. No zombies or bodies in the underground parking. Human traces in the vanished break room.

Something's here.

Inside Rocket Mart—right above me on the floors overhead—something dwelled that was neither zombie nor human.