Venturing Out
A week had passed.
"Damn it, really."
No rescue came. Hell, I hadn't seen a single soul nearby. The area around the villa was as quiet as ever today.
Ha... It was really time to get out now.
Living off convenience store food for three meals a day had depleted the stock. I'd already gone through all the short-shelf-life stuff, leaving only canned goods and frozen items with long expiration dates.
Of course, if I rationed carefully, I could last another month. But that wasn't the only problem.
—Creak
"Urk..."
I reflexively dry-heaved when I opened the window. The stench from the zombie corpses I'd killed with Ice Spear right in front of my door was overwhelming.
I'd opened it to air out the stuffy apartment, but the rotten smell poured in instead.
Tsk. Air was crucial. Even sleeping in my room with windows and doors shut left the place reeking of CO2, and now I couldn't even ventilate because of the corpses.
I couldn't just set fire to the bodies in the parking lot either.
If it spreads, I'm done for.
I hadn't established a proper base yet. At best, it was my 202-room in Happiness Villa, or maybe the GOS Convenience Store out front.
If fire spread to the villa or store where my food was stockpiled, things would get dire.
Moving dozens of bodies was out of the question. Even if I could, where would I haul them? Where to burn them? Getting attacked mid-transport would be a nightmare.
And besides...
"Fuck..."
Setting aside the smell, I just couldn't stand being cooped up in this villa anymore. It had been over twelve days since I'd seen another person.
Sure, with internet, I might've held out a month longer. There were people out there, as some online chatter suggested. But the net cut out day one, and I'd already binged every game on my computer to the end.
Staring at walls or sleeping wasn't feasible in this foul air.
I have to go.
So now was the time to move, just as I'd planned on day five: find survivors and leave this godforsaken villa. About two weeks into the zombie outbreak.
Precisely twelve days. By now, most folks barricaded like me are probably dead.
People like me had either gone out for food and died, or starved waiting for rescue. One of those two.
In modern society, few stocked enough food at home. Sure, folks with moms or grandmas piling kimchi or rice sacks might still be kicking.
But combing apartments for that was too risky—dense populations meant too much burden for me.
24 shots every four hours. Six per hour recharge, but still too few.
That was Ice Spear's recharge cycle. Seemed decent at a glance, but an hour was too long. Personally, I'd need 20 per hour to roam without zombie worries.
Ashes Veil went without saying. Blocking fatal damage for six seconds meant saving me from unseen death, but it was strictly insurance.
Apartments were impossible. Supermarts seemed tough too.
So, the Northdong Office it was.
The route to the office was off the beaten path—rarely used. Sure, as a shelter, it'd been jammed with cars, people, and zombies early on.
But enough time had passed. If survivors were there, zombies nearby would be thinned out. I could scout and bail.
If they held it, they'd have defenses and hierarchy—worth contacting. If zombies overrun it with no signs of life, just head back.
Let's go.
I slung my bag. First, the wooden bat, then canned food, emergency rations, wet wipes, essentials.
For sleeping rough, thick clothes, extra socks, crammed in.
Hoo...
I took a deep breath and opened my front door.
—Screech
Clear blue sky greeted me as the villa door swung wide.
Nice weather.
Seoul's Northdong spring was pleasant today. Calendar said weekend. Without the chaos outside, couples in parks, families out—normal day.
—Thud
—Thud
Descending villa stairs, passing the gate: rotting corpses, bloodstains, wreckage.
Smashed cars ready to explode. Charred blood traces. Piles of human-or-zombie bodies, their decay stench.
.....
I glanced, then turned right, crossing to GOS Convenience Store.
—Ding
Inside: bodies from day one, shelves stacked with goods. My daily sight.
Normally, I'd grab supplies, sneak back to the villa.
Not today.
Hoo...
—Ding
Deep breath, out the store. Instead of villa, I turned toward the bustling district path.
===
—Kieeeek!
Happiness Villa sat atop a hill. Villa, convenience store, salon, small chicken joint. That's why only dozens of zombies—blasted away with Ice Spear, none left.
—Kreeeak
But downhill from GOS, the street that'd swarm weekends on: hundreds of zombies.
—Grk
—Grrrk?
They staggered, bumping aimlessly, milling without purpose.
Even in cars.
Zombies inside vehicles bashed heads on windows, screeching.
Tsk...
I ducked under a car, decided to backtrack. Wrecked cars jammed shops, hundreds of zombies—too many for the office route.
Bitter.
Expected, but no live people. Not that shops were residential, but I'd half-hoped military swept them.
Villa's high up, lucky for me.
Midnight drunks, street wanderers turned, bit each other—chaos inevitable.
Hoo.
I rose from under the car, slipped back to GOS where zombies couldn't see.
Past familiar store and villa lot, to the hillside trail I'd used before—around the mountain to the office.
As expected.
Back-mountain trail. Unused by most—just villa elders or idle folks like me avoiding crowds to the mart.
Why I chose it: no people, no zombies, as predicted.
—Thud thud
Still cautious. Zombie from bushes? Dangerous.
Hoo...
I blinked down the quiet path alone.
About ten minutes later.
From afar, squinting at Employment Office and adjacent Northdong Office downhill.
Not what I expected.
Bad scene from up high. More zombies around the office than thought. No humans visible inside either building.
Entrance trashed.
Dozens of corpses strewn before Employment Office, dried blood splatters.
Northdong Office same: bodies of humans and zombies everywhere—no way survivors inside.
Disappointing.
Employment Office, fine—never a shelter, probably locked outbreak day.
But office falling? Surprising.
Reserve training site, they'd have live ammo in emergencies.
Common reserve drill spot. Northdong's repurposed old police station: spacious, defensible entrance.
If reserves mobilized, grabbed ammo from nearby units or stations, they'd hold with guns, shelter survivors.
But no signs of life from afar.