04. A New Path

"I'll live."

I decided to eat first. The power was still on, so I pulled out one of the lunchboxes I'd grabbed and nuked it in the microwave. The triangle kimbap from the convenience store hadn't been enough to fill me up. As the hot meat and rice slid down my throat, I finally started feeling human again.

Thud!Splat!Splash!

With my hunger taken care of, I headed to the balcony and launched every remaining Ice Spear at the zombies below. That made seven I'd held back, plus six more regenerated over the past two hours—for a total of thirteen spears that punched straight through their skulls. I didn't care if the noise drew more; I just hurled them mercilessly.

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Splat!

'That should put me at 21%.'

I let out a breath as I watched the zombies' heads explode, turning the parking lot into a slaughterhouse. At this rate, I'd hit 100% in about two days.

'Good enough.'

There weren't any restrictions on raising proficiency beyond actually firing the Ice Spears, which was nice. In other zombie stories with status windows, there were usually rules like "kill humans" or "kill zombies," but I had no such bullshit. Sure, it was three per hour, but since mana fully regenerated every five hours, it didn't matter if I fired every hour or every few—it all evened out. The "(E)" next to Ice Spear and the skill points suggested something more would happen once proficiency maxed out.

'Fuck, I'm beat.'

After that, I sorted my supplies by category, crammed all the food into the freezer and fridge, stripped naked, and headed straight for the bathroom.

"Tch..."

It stung like hell. I turned on the faucet to wash my hands, and the aftermath from gripping that wooden plank hit me hard. I'd been too tensed up earlier to feel it. Now that the adrenaline had crashed, the pain flooded in. The skin wasn't flayed off too badly—just enough to make movement awkward—so I showered, squeezed on some ointment, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wrapped it up.

"Hoo..."

I made sure not to get it on the blankets, wrapping my hand thoroughly with bandages from the convenience store. Then I changed into pajamas, flopped onto the bed, and turned on my smartphone. The time read [19:44]. Internet and calls were still dead. Looked like the cell towers or the carrier HQ had gone down.

'No.'

I almost chucked the phone in frustration but stopped myself. I'd confirmed my parents were safe, so that was enough. If I hadn't heard from them, I'd have been a wreck with worry—but unlike most people, my whole family seemed okay. That thought settled me a bit. Sure, the stuffiness lingered, but it was manageable.

'Wish there was someone else around.'

I swallowed a sigh and opened my status window.

'Status Window.'

The status window floated there, responding to my will as always. The only changes from before were proficiency up to 21% and mana drained to zero.

'Quests are a mystery.'

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Thoughts started swirling. No matter how I puzzled it out, I had no clue what these quests wanted. No god handing down orders, no helpful angel popping up a tutorial. Just this inorganic status window.

'Savior and Ruin Fragments.'

All I could guess was that whoever made this window wanted me to find the Savior. I'd been too hungry earlier to think straight, but now it clicked. This goddamn zombie world sparked by COVID-23 felt like some massive conspiracy I didn't know about. And the window's owner probably wanted me to stop it.

'Or maybe it's just fucking with me.'

Honestly, I didn't care if the window wanted something from me or was toying with me. Whatever the reason, its owner had given me magic—the power to survive this ruined world. That beat getting torn apart defenseless like regular schmucks any day.

'Alright then.'

So I set some goals. Motivation mattered for the long haul.

'Priority one: family.'

Quests? They existed, but they weren't top dog. Savior this, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠whatever that—family came first. Without them, the world could burn for all I cared. So goal number one: head to my hometown where my parents probably were, now that contact was cut.

'But it's too damn far.'

My hometown was Seocho-gun in South Chungcheong Province—basically North Jeolla territory. Just one river from Gunsan City, but from Seoul's Northdong, it was about 200km away.

'Over four hours by car.'

Roads were fucked already. If this backwater villa hood was a mess with barely any people, imagine the busy streets, downtown, or highways. Walking? No clue how many days. And with Ice Spear only firing three per hour, no way I could solo it that far.

'Gotta power up.'

Goal two: get stronger. The world's gone to shit, military and cops are useless—it's a lawless wasteland now. And to reunite with family, power was essential. Fourteen shots, recharging three per hour on an E-rank Ice Spear? Barely enough to survive solo, let alone reunite. Hell, just the convenience store run earlier had been brutal.

'First, grind that fucking proficiency.'

Hitting 100% would trigger something, good or bad.

Splat!

I skipped goals three and four. Too many muddied the mind. Personal strength first.

With that settled, I grinded Ice Spear proficiency to 30% from the balcony until 10 PM, then crashed.

...

Three days passed like that.

'Country's really fucked.'

I checked the balcony first thing in the morning, but no sign of humans. Clear weather, but the congealed bloodstains and corpses made it gloomier by contrast.

"No zombies."

The only change from three days ago: no zombies in sight. I'd been sniping every walker from the balcony, and now none moved.

"Goddamn."

In the meantime, I'd hit the convenience store again for more food and supplies. Then, floating Ice Spears alongside my bat, I'd cleared the whole villa. From 101 on the first floor to 407 on the fourth—full mana at 14, every room swept.

A few zombies lunged while I moved, but they all turned to gore under my spears.

'How is there not a single person?'

But after sweeping the place, I realized: no survivors besides me. Some rooms had signs of life, but only zombie noises from within. Probably wiped out on March 3rd or evacuated.

'In novels, this is where the hot neighbor girl shows up.'

Usually, you meet the pretty virgin neighbor with great personality, sparks fly, blah blah. Not here. Open doors just spat zombies—no survivors.

"Fuck this."

After that, I stayed put, grinding proficiency from the safe balcony whenever. Should've hit 100% in two days, but life doesn't go smooth. Firing all mana every hour felt risky—not knowing when threats might come—so I kept a buffer. By day three, proficiency sat at 97%. Three more shots to max.

"Ice Spear."

Splat!

No need to wait—I fired three straight at the street. No zombies left, so the spears just shattered on asphalt. And without even calling it, a notification rang out.

Sure enough, max proficiency triggered changes. Mage (Beginner), reset proficiency, boosted mana and regen, skill point—all expected.

"But what's this 'path' shit?"

The last bit about choosing a path was weird. Skills should give new skill options, not some random "path."

As if it knew I'd pick it, a window appeared before my eyes.

"Ah, fuck..."

Staring at those ominous choices, a sudden headache hit me like a truck.