Building a New Family - 2
In the past, there was a saying: zombies are high-quality sandbags that bring out humanity's violent side.
If a person kills another with a gun or some other weapon, no matter how satisfying or brutal it feels, they can't escape the moral quandary it carries. But against zombies—creatures with human-like shape and size, long dead—you can unleash that violence without restraint. It was a meaningless phrase now, with zombies rampaging right in front of my eyes, not some media fiction.
Even so, fighting zombies wasn't painful. It was far more rewarding than bickering over rules while gambling with Haena's life. These were enemies that had to be killed, no choice about it. And by killing them, I protected the innocent. It was a good fight. A fight worth having.
Against foes where I could unleash my full violence without worry, I just poured out my power. No need to hesitate. No moral dilemmas—just cut down the enemy in front of me. This wasn't an unpleasant battle for me.
"Let's go!"
A brilliant glow erupted from the plastic sword in my hand. The excessive mana I'd infused surged out as light, manifesting in this space.
Not bad.
Of course, the plastic sword's material was laughably weak. It was a toy to begin with, not a real weapon. But the moment it was in my grip, it was no longer a toy. Just a ridiculously soft and fragile imitation of a sword.
And regardless of its hardness or sharpness, in my hand, it was the hero's sword.
"W-what is it, Master? That light... You've never used anything like this before."
Seohee shook her head in disbelief.
"I didn't need to!"
Between words, I sliced through the minor zombies charging at me.
Yeah, it's pretty decent.
Compared to a real sword, it was woefully inadequate. Barely qualified as a weapon. But when I'd fought with a staff or that rag-wrapped thing, it wasn't the material that mattered. As long as it could hold my mana, a wooden block or metal scrap became a weapon.
Like being severed by a keen blade of light, the zombies before me began collapsing one by one. I advanced slowly.
"Grab your lights and form up! If you get grabbed, scream! I'll come save you no matter what!"
It wouldn't be easy. Alone, sure—but protecting everyone while climbing up? Even for me, it required focus. Still, not impossible. Worth the effort.
The plastic sword became a sword, and I channeled mana the way I would for any blade I wielded. The hollow, transparent plastic blade shimmered with light, as if harboring a massive source within.
I picked up speed, dispatching the monsters ahead even faster. Shoving corpses aside with my shoulder to clear the path, I pressed on.
"Everyone rested up? Keep your guard up!"
"We'll handle the rear!"
Haena and Hari exchanged a brief glance. Fortunately, Haena smoothly blended into Hari's group, readying for battle.
"Good."
Some had flashlights, but they weren't enough against this thick darkness. The street ahead brimmed with zombies, denser than the shadows themselves. Then—light.
The sword became light.
/////
Kim Haena stared at that light.
...Ah.
She wanted to live. That's why she'd fled while her comrades died. Even knowing her absence might doom another, she'd run and kept running. She'd thought it unavoidable. But looking back, it was pathetic, disgusting flailing.
She'd abandoned others to survive. To avoid death, she'd endangered her organization and the orphanage. So Haena couldn't help doubting: Was she worth saving? Worth living?
That wretched life she'd clung to at the orphanage's expense—wouldn't it fizzle out meaningless anyway, wandering Anseongu?
But that man was different. Like a fairy-tale prince, he'd fought for Kim Haena, practically a stranger. Boldly pleading with the Katus patrol not to kill her. When warned the orphanage might be at risk, he'd replied, "I'll take responsibility."
He didn't flinch before the zombie horde. Even in a situation where all might die, his eyes held no despair. As if saying, "Killing over something like that isn't right." As if telling Haena, who hid her guilt amid her struggles, that it was okay to shed it.
That she was worth saving.
"Hold the line! Don't move recklessly! If you see an enemy bullets can't drop, call for support immediately!"
When she'd fled, Haena had thrown everything away just to survive one elite monster. But now, facing hordes of elites, she couldn't run. Fleeing into this darkness would just plunge her into a greater monster wave.
More importantly, she wanted to fight. She didn't want to disappoint the man who'd fought for her. The man now battling to protect her and countless unrelated women. She wanted to be even a little more strength for him.
"Fire!"
Gunshots exploded from both sides, deafening her eardrums.
"Grraaaaaah!!!"
But the zombie charging the rear's roar drowned even the gunfire.
...Ah.
Haena felt ecstasy. Light flashed. The sword of the man who'd fought for her blazed like a tiny sun.
With that, she could fight. In that lit space, she could endure. That glow proved someone hadn't abandoned her.
Even if she failed and died amid the zombies, it meant someone would grieve for her.
So she had to fight.
"Hup..."
Steadying her breath, she fired carefully, again and again. She sensed elite monsters—ones she'd thought unbeatable—hesitating under her bullets.
Nggh!
Her firepower was lacking, but this was her bravest, most efficient real combat yet. Bullets pierced normal zombies' brains or struck elite weak points, stalling them.
I can do this. I can—
Then Haena spotted an elite targeting the brave man holding the front. A monster that killed lone survivors by whipping out a long tongue to strangle—a massive threat.
He wouldn't die from a few seconds' choke, but if he couldn't wield his sword even briefly, the whole group was at risk.
Fortunately, it wasn't hard to kill—just hard to spot. A clean headshot, and her standard rifle would do it. Small and fast, so tricky. But somehow, today's Haena felt she could.
She steadied her moving legs. Held her breath. Closed one eye. Pulled the trigger.
"Got it!"
With the crack, its head burst. But the next instant, Haena realized she should have rejoiced or fled.
"Ah?"
Green fluid. Flesh-melting acid hurtled toward her.
...Another elite!
Glancing around, her comrades had scattered. She was the only fool left standing.
She tried to move, but her feet wouldn't budge. Imagining the acid touching her, dissolving her slowly, she squeezed her eyes shut.
Still... this might be okay.
She'd met a kind, warm, handsome man. He'd tried to save her. For Haena, that was more fortune than she deserved. Even dying here, she'd go with happy memories. Not torn apart by some nameless zombie on the streets, but dying to protect that man without fleeing.
But the ending she thought "decently happy" didn't come.
"Ah?"
Opening her eyes, Haena saw the man before her. Holding her, his back covered in that horrific acid.
"You okay?"
"Y-yes... yes!"
"Good, run!"
He patted her shoulder lightly, then charged the piled-up monsters at the rear without hesitation.
Haena bit her lip, gripped her gun, and dashed forward to rejoin her orphanage friends waiting.
It wasn't over yet.