The Meat Summoner's Despair
Lee Seoyul let out a low groan. The world had ended. Zombies had appeared. A status window had materialized.
"Ugh..."
It was a brief summary, but for 20-year-old Lee Seoyul, it was a monumental event. An unbelievable one, too. Zombies that could bulldoze tanks? The world destroyed by things like that? And what, awakeners popping up using magic? Just three weeks ago, she wouldn't have believed any of it.
If the apartment complex right below Yuseong University hadn't been engulfed in black fog. If red letters hadn't appeared before her eyes the moment she uttered "status window." She sighed and slumped into her seat. Her head was spinning a little—she'd done too much today.
"...It hurts."
About three weeks ago. The day of ruin. She'd been asleep in the dorms and barely escaped the zombies by the skin of her teeth. A man wielding lightning from somewhere had helped her and the others flee to the Humanities Building at Yuseong University—the tallest spot on campus, surrounded by mountains.
The Humanities Building was usually crawling with bugs and a pain to hike to, but for those swept up in the zombie outbreak, it was a natural fortress. There were only two paths leading to the massive building.
The route through the central library where she'd taken shelter. And the back gate leading off campus.
Great minds think alike. The survivors flooded in through those two routes. It was noisy, of course. Tools materialized in people's hands, lightning bolts flew, defensive lines broke against zombies—but somehow, the Yuseong University folks held the Humanities Building.
Over those three weeks of barricading against zombies, there were gripes about where the army was, what those zombies outside were, who these people thought they were giving orders, what the hell a status window even was. But none of that mattered.
What did matter was that a survivor camp had formed in the Humanities Building of Yuseong University—Korea's top school. And that Lee Seoyul was one of its residents.
"...Need a hand?"
"No. I can handle my share."
"Ah, okay."
"Get over here, you idiot—trying to hit on girls again. Sorry about him."
"It's fine."
Lee Seoyul brushed off the offer from the male classmate behind her and moved the sack of supplies. Whatever was inside made it brutally heavy. But she had to do this much to survive. Her class wasn't suited for combat.
"Hah, hah. Status window."
🥩 Meat Summon (D): Summons 700g of one desired type of meat. Mana Cost: 6
Her class: Meat Summoner, a producer who summoned food. When she first got her status window, she'd cheered at the sight. In a camp short on rations, her ability was obviously valuable.
The problem? This was a zombie apocalypse. She wasn't treated as well as she'd hoped.
...It's still meat summoning, though.
Even with over 100 people, the camp leaders worked every survivor to the bone. She got that. But what they overlooked was that big camps had blind spots, and in this world, law and order were gone.
"Hey, isn't that chick a producer?"
"Yeah, wanna hit on her? She's cute."
"Nah, dude, that's Kwon Yunhwan's girl. Let's go. Eating that one's like puking."
"Oh, right."
Seoyul slipped away, hearing the group's chatter behind her. Yuseong University was isolated. Electricity and water still flowed thanks to her and the other producers, but who knew for how long.
Producers' resentment was at an all-time high. No matter how she voiced it, the Humanities Building camp did nothing.
I'll die if I stay here...
Seoyul closed her eyes. If her skill was combat-oriented—or even something common like blunt weapon summoning—she wouldn't be languishing powerlessly. But she was just a Meat Summoner. A producer dependent on other awakeners and people to survive.
Luckily, unlike non-awakeners or useless classes, her ability was essential, so she and the apprentice producers were guarded deep inside the building. But it was superficial treatment. At this rate, she'd wither away.
The camp had over 100 people, but producers like her were woefully few, and mistreated.
It doesn't make sense.
Seoyul sighed. Producer classes deserved respect, not neglect. To sustain 100+ people, they were vital. Otherwise, leaders would abandon the weak or trade the camp away...
"Seoyul, coming along okay?"
Her thoughts shattered. A man approached.
"...Yes."
A man in his 40s sidled up, gripping her shoulder. Hwang Jutae, wielder of Flame Summon—the camp's so-called fire mage.
"Professor Hwang."
Hwang Jutae had earned respect in the camp with his ability, leading alongside Kwon Yunhwan of Lightning Discharge. He'd cataloged everyone's classes and skills on paper, commanding over 100 survivors. He was the leader.
Mid-40s but handsome, skilled, charismatic. A great leader on paper.
"Seoyul, if it's too hard..."
But Seoyul knew his true nature. Two weeks ago, she'd seen two female students enter his room. Not inherently bad. At 20, she was adult enough to grasp reality: weak-skilled girls had to trade their bodies to survive.
But.
Hwang Jutae is a one-way ticket to hell.
His flames couldn't handle two zombies. One-on-one, maybe with tools, but more? No chance. Plus, he ignored producers' complaints. Acted nice upfront, dictatorial behind. Even when Kwon Yunhwan backed her, he dismissed it.
Trash.
Seoyul shook her head. "Professor Hwang, I should go. My group's waiting."
"...Sure."
His leering eyes raked her up and down. She forced his hand off her back and moved away.
Dangerous.
But she was smart enough to know reality. Humans were cunning, merciless to the weak. The camp still clung to pre-apocalypse norms with 100+ people, but it wouldn't last. The strong's touch on the weak—and lesser awakeners—would be catastrophic.
For now, they just poked at producers. But they could lock them up anytime, force production.
"Hoo..."
She calmed her pounding heart and headed to her quarters.
===
That night.
Damn it.
"Aaah! Ahh!"
Seoyul cursed inwardly. What the hell was sex that they had to make this racket at night?
She sighed under her blanket in Room 209, the women's dorm. The noise came from next door—210 was empty, so they were going at it further in.
I hate this.
She glanced at the sleeping women beside her—unaffected, unlike sensitive her. Or maybe her spot against 210's wall amplified it.
Didn't matter. Sleep was gone, and those two would finish before dawn.
She went midway down the hall and peered out the window.
Dad, I miss you.
Except 210, the lecture hall was quiet with breathing. She'd grown up with her dad after losing Mom early. Staring out at night dredged up three weeks ago—and their last call before phones died.
'Seoyul. Stay alive, no matter what. Dad will find you. Sorry, gotta go. They're at the dorm. I'll come get you. I love you, Seoyul.'
'Dad? Dad!'
The abrupt cutoff. Heart dropping.
It's fine. He's alive.
Self-consolation. Last seen him late February on a business trip. Planned a birthday party for late March...
Dad...
Sadder now. But she believed in him. He was surely searching.
So I have to survive, no matter what.
Even selling her body. She steeled herself. She wanted to see her dad.
—Groooar.
A zombie growl outside. She suppressed chills, carefully slid the window.
—Rattle.
Peered out.
Zombie...?
Cold night air, pitch black. Crawling figures. But the growl wasn't from there.
Not that way.
No zombie noises since barricading. She was essential producer. This was odd.
What're they doing?
Soon understood. From 2F overlooking central library path: crude barricade of desks/ACs, two guys toying with a tied female zombie.
Kim Suho and Lee Hyunjin?
Fellow Business freshmen, Class of '23 like her. Shared early classes.
Night watch?
60+ men rotated watch. No clue why no women, but whatever.
Isn't that dangerous?
She frowned. Watchmen responsible for 100+ lives doing this? Irked her. But she was powerless weakling. Couldn't fight a grown man.
Just see what they're up to.
Leaned out, strained to hear. Faint.
Damn.
Camp crumbling visibly. Watch slacking could doom all. Sleep ruined, she sneaked to 1F for a look.
Crept downstairs, to spotty-view near barricade/post.
"This bitch is hot."
"Whoa, isn't that Kim Harin from our class, '23?"
"Yeah, think so? Shame. Would've been fun if alive."
"Zombie pussy not your thing?"
"Crazy bastard. Who'd fuck a zombie? Her tits and crotch are ripped anyway. Better with others."
"True. What time? Next watch soon?"
"4:42. Yeah, horse rotation."
She got it. Tied female zombie, prodding privates with long sticks.
Horrified, rushed back to 209.
—Thump.
—Thump.
Insane.
Calmed racing heart, sighed. Not from sexual talk or poking. She overlapped with zombie Kim Harin.
If bitten, turned, or late to building...
Could be me.
Depressing.
Haa...
Sighed. Pointless. She knew her luck: Kwon Yunhwan's lightning saving her.
But...
Kwon Yunhwan, Engineering '23, 20 like her. Lightning obliterated zombie heads in clusters. Building intact thanks to him.
He's too green.
Still pre-ruin mindset, saving everyone like novel hero. Pulled by professors like Hwang Jutae.
She hated it. A brute killing dissenters, raping women? Reliable. But no.
Too nice? Fake? Dumb?
Such wasted talent.
Hwang's flames: 5/day max. Yunhwan could dominate all. 20+ bolts daily. If Hwang had it, camp his.
Yunhwan alive + essential kept pre-ruin norms.
But ending soon.
Hwang's faction stirring. Girls from 202 vanished overnight. Claimed they left unhappy. She didn't buy.
Trafficking or murder.
Useless skills like bow summoning. Gunshots, weird noises outside that night.
Definitely.
Some horror group outside. Hwang trading with them. Yunhwan's faction protested, outnumbered.
Law-abiders vs new-order pushers. Camp balance: shaky Jenga.
She bit nails.
Wish Yunhwan zapped them all.
Three weeks watching: he wouldn't. Hoped he dodged Hwang's schemes. His death = doom for weak.
No other options...
Outside dangerous. Black fog apartments. Roars, screams.
Hwang's dismissed it. Felt unsafe.
"Seoyul."
Chilling woman's voice. Blonde, pierced cat-eyed woman staring.
Suppressed goosebumps. "Kim Yuna. Don't call me that."
Kim Yuna, 20, same age/dept but different class. Surveillance specialist.
Eye Strength Enhance or something.
Hwang's favorite side chick.
Normally no contact. But shared 209.
"Why? Pretty face like yours gets favors there."
"...Told you no."
Acts thug, but Hwang darling.
"Chill. Just testing."
"Don't."
"Acting pricey."
Yuna always fake-friendly. Seoyul tried at first—roomie feud bad.
"Get out."
Something off about Yuna. Open lust like Hwang or naive like Yunhwan? Easier. Yuna hid something.
Why fake thug? Scary.
Three weeks pushing away.
"Fine, live like that, Lee Seoyul. Ends today anyway."
Odd words. Yuna yawned, left—bathroom probably.
Seoyul lay, closed eyes. Two hours to 7AM roll call. Couldn't sleep.
Ominous.
Good instincts. "Today" stuck. Crowded place, no incident likely. But...
Slept anyway. Tomorrow's sun rises. Needed rest to survive. Crowds meant safe from Yuna.
.....
Of course, huge mistake.
"...Mmph?"
No voice. Body ached.
"Yuna, bitch awake? Drug's frog-level. Said out till dinner."
"Whatever, leave her. Tied up good. Hah, producer acting tough."
Awake Seoyul blinked, grasped situation.
"...Mmmph! Mmmph!"
Screamed instinctively. Kidnapped. Yuna's voice. Unknown man.
Tried fleeing, strained. Bound tight.
—Thwack!
"Hng!"
Escape failed.
"Fucking shut it."
"Guh!"
Man punched gut. Agony halted breath.
"Quiet or die, fuck. Shame can't fuck her."
"Felt it—virgin probably."
Yuna's mocking laugh. Man's regret.
"Really? Shit. Hwang's bitch, just eat and pass."
"Can't. Need girls for Liberation Army deals."
"True. Guns ain't cheap."
Liberation Army. Military? Selling her? To army? World that fucked?
Trading guns? Brain froze.
"Yuna, why you fine?"
"Got my man."
"Man my ass."
"Pfft, ass too tight? Crossdress for Jutae-oppa?"
"Shut the fuck up."
"Hah, pissed. Yunhwan babies her weirdly."
"Puppy love. Plus food producer."
Woke her brain: Hwang Jutae. He sold her. Drugs, guns, Liberation Army, trades. Puzzle fit.
"Mmmmmmph!"
Screamed on. They blindfolded, carted her anyway.
—Rattle.
—Rattle.
No help.
"Mmph! Mmph!"
Tears. Writhed for escape. Futile for 20yo girl.
"Here."
"Yeah, shut up."
Time passed. Chatter stopped.
—Clack.
—Clack.
Silence. Footsteps. Raspy man's voice.
"This it?"
"Yes."
Yuna trembling.
"Skill?"
"Meat summon. D-rank."
"Ho. Good one. Usually E."
"Yes. They needed meat, so pushed."
"Fair."
Shadow over her. Creep groped, squeezed breast, stood.
"Nice. Last long. Payment."
—Click.
"Thanks."
"Go that way back. Unsafe past here."
"Got it."
"Tell Haoraegi—no more. Or can't hold monsters. This last."
"Yes sir. Thanks."
"Yeah."
Yuna/man left. Just captors.
"Mmph! Mmph!"
"Quiet. Won't change shit."
"Mmmph! Ph!"
"Try."
Man emotionless. Scariest type.
—Rattle.
Only tears.
—Rattle.
Cart moved. Young men's talk, handover feel.
"Sir! New goods, Section Chief Park?"
Section chief. Soldiers? Doing this?
"Yeah. Meat producer. Handle careful. Dead = trouble."
"Heh, samgyeopsal incoming."
Seoyul listened.
"Heard. Hwang's mockingbird/sparrow arrived?"
"Contact cut. Probably hit by downtown holders."
"Tch. Report boss."
"Shinsegaye scouts keep dying."
"...Monsters?"
"Ambiguous. Zombie-like."
"Trash died diseased. Got it."
"Yes. Taking bitch. Sir!"
"Yeah. Keep vehicle inside. Watch top. Tell buzzard/hotpack stork relayed."
"Yes!"
Handover.
—Rattle.
—Rattle.
"Yawn. Eerie quiet. Huh?"
"Yeah. Should be supply officer spot."
Men uneasy. One panicked.
"Fuck. What's that."
"What."
"There. Up top fuck."
"Huh???"
No more. Urgent voices + earth-shaking boom.
—Ruuuuumble!
Ground—no, sky roared.
—Boom!
Huge drop.
—Splaaat!
Blast nearby. Vibration. Men drawing something.
Then.
—Boom!
—Crunch!
"Eh?"
—Splash!
Hot powder rained on her. Then cold grains.
"Fuck! What?! What?!"
Panic voice.
—Tatter!
Fleeing steps. Short-lived.
—Boom!
Collapse roar.
—Thud!
—Crash!
Seoyul unsafe. Driverless cart sped downhill.
—Ruuuumble!
Ah.
Closed eyes, hands to neck—instinct.
Future clear. Long downhill—
—Boom!
Blackout.
No...
Fought consciousness. Still, unmoving body doomed her. Pain secondary.
But.
—Bang!
—Ruuuuumble!
Bound. Chaos around. Men gone.
Far: —Screeeech!
—Groooar!
—Rat-tat!
Gunfire, dead screams.
Seoyul closed eyes. Obvious end.
But surrender moment.
'......'
—Crackle.
Burning smell somewhere.