No More Rooms in Hell (7)

I didn't rush out blindly. The newly unlocked skill looked like something that would've been nice to have much earlier, but I couldn't let my guard down. I was still weak. So was my sister. Numbers would always overwhelm us, and every weapon and piece of armor we had was pathetic. Even if it was just a horde of zombies, we'd have to retreat or come up with a plan. As for that snake or centipede monster still lurking in the parking lot, we couldn't even think about facing it yet.

But as the old saying goes, even a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. I tried to stay optimistic—at this stage, if we built things up carefully, we'd eventually reach our goal. Even if I had no idea what that would actually look like.

I had the status window, after all. In this fucked-up world, I wasn't going to die like some worthless piece of shit. When I thought about it that way, the possibility that my sister might have a status window too actually felt like a good thing. Even though Kang Ahyeon was a stupid bitch, she genuinely cared about me. At the very least, she wouldn't betray me.

“...Should we grab some weapons before we head out?”

“Oppa, you pick first! I'll take whatever's left.”

“Even if I tell you to pick first...”

I'd learned something while ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠handling weapons. This club—luxury... whatever it was called. Anyway, the bed leg didn't fit my hand well. I only used it because it was sturdy. In contrast, the Chinese cleaver felt perfect in my grip. No matter how hard I swung it, it never slipped. The weight balance was just right, and it delivered serious power.

The same feeling I'd gotten when I stabbed the kitchen knife into the side of the guy from room 808 returned every time I split a head open with the cleaver. And if I was looking for a similar weapon among the ones in front of me, there was only one choice.

“Then I'll take this.”

There were two hatchets. One was clearly meant for chopping wood—its weight was forward-heavy and the handle was short. But the second hatchet fit perfectly in my hand. It had that same comfortable grip as the cleaver, with good balance and decent power. Not that power mattered all that much... but that proper weight was important.

Both the cleaver and this hatchet had this feeling where, once I swung them, they seemed to guide themselves in the right direction. I was a little worried about the blade dulling or chipping since it was a bladed weapon, but it was still the best option available.

“Then I'll go with this one.”

What my sister chose was the longest weapon among them. A Japanese saw-toothed sickle. The blade had Japanese characters on it, and the handle was slightly stained with blood. It suited her, in a way.

“Is that going to be okay? There are hammers or the other hatchet...”

“This is fine! What are you going to do with the rest?”

Carrying them around would be cumbersome. They were too heavy to stuff in a bag, and I worried about them getting stolen in an emergency. But at the same time, I couldn't shake the thought that our weapons might break and we'd need replacements in a hurry. These were spares, but... wasn't it better to have as many extra weapons as possible?

I wasn't sure. After thinking it over, I shook my head.

“We'll leave them at home.”

We already had spare weapons there. Our stainless steel kitchen knives that still had sharp edges, plus a stainless steel saw-toothed sickle, would be more than enough spares for Ahyeon. So we stopped by the apartment briefly to clean up.

First, we dealt with our parents' bodies that had been left unattended for a day. Just in case, we put them in room 806 and closed the door. The bloodstains remained in room 807, though. We wouldn't know until we saw it whether this place would become our base or the choir's stronghold. Personally, I thought digging up more information would be good, but that was something we'd have to confirm with our own eyes.

I didn't rush. I retrieved the bag I'd hidden in the apartment and shared a simple lunch with my sister. Canned tuna and instant noodles that had already passed their expiration date but were still in decent condition. We had to boil water in the kettle, cook the noodles separately, drain the oil from the tuna and add it in, but it tasted good. Rich and intensely savory. I didn't know who used to own these noodles, but they were a pretty famous spicy brand. Kang Ahyeon stuck her tongue out and panted.

“Ugh, it's so spicy...”

“Eat it with rice.”

“The broth makes it even spicier...”

“Want me to open some milk?”

“There's milk?!”

“No. Of course not.”

“Hiiing, don't tease me...”

My sister making that pitiful face was cute. It had been a while since I'd seen her like her old self. I laughed, and she laughed too while eating, tears streaming down her face. The fact that this whining girl had slit someone's throat just earlier didn't seem like a big deal anymore. I consciously tried to think of it that way. I told myself that what I'd done wasn't murder—it was self-defense.

Still, I figured my dreams that night wouldn't be pleasant. After we finished eating, my sister and I washed the kettle thoroughly and left.

We emptied the bag. We locked room 808 from the inside, crossed over to room 807, left only a day's worth of food, hid everything else, went outside, and locked the door. There were no more parents to throw away our supplies. They'd just be rotting up on that ridge with the bloodstains. I didn't care about them anymore.

Instead, we headed to room 810. Even looking through the peephole, I couldn't see anything. But when I pressed my ear to the door, I could hear shuffling sounds. Probably not human. I rang the doorbell.

Ding-dong!

A short, guttural growl. Something approached the door. Thud. The door rattled but didn't open. When I grabbed the handle and turned it halfway, I realized it wasn't locked.

“Kang Ahyeon, hold the door. When I lean on it completely, open it.”

Kang Ahyeon nodded. I stepped slightly to the side of the door and raised my cleaver. Thud. Thud. Thump. After the pounding stopped for a moment—

Bang!

The door flew open. Zombies poured out and collapsed onto the floor. Three of them. A family. The woman I'd seen a few times coming and going, along with the couple. I acted before the fallen zombies could get up.

I brought the cleaver down hard.

I killed the topmost zombie that had crushed the others, then the mother and daughter ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠underneath twitched. I pulled the blade free and brought it down again.

Thwack. Crunch!

The whole family collapsed and died in an instant. I glanced at the window that immediately popped up in the corner of my vision.

...Ah, I remembered. They'd said they brought in a former track athlete. When I focused ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on the skill, its description unfolded below.

This was good. The momentary disappointment I felt at the system's grade downgrade quickly faded. There was no need to pick any other technique. If this was the skill from the start, it was S-rank. No reason to hesitate.

When I selected the skill, a brief alert appeared.

So there was a cooldown. The real-time reflection was impressive.

I pulled the blade from the head of the grateful benefactor who had given me Track and lightly shook it clean. Thanks to my Strength now at 5, the cleaver split zombie skulls without any effort. Before, I couldn't even pull it out sometimes, but now I could just force it free with raw power even if it was buried deep. I was still worried about the blade getting damaged, though.

Holding the cleaned blade, I stepped into the apartment. I caught Kang Ahyeon as she hopped over the corpses so she wouldn't trip, then we kicked the zombies roughly aside and closed the door.

Room 810 wasn't well-prepared, to put it nicely. Whether it was the daughter, mother, or father who turned first, the infection had spread to the whole family. It was essentially a contaminated zone. My sister and I carefully searched the place for anything worth taking.

“Ah, Kang Ahyeon. Kitchen knife here.”

“Ah! Thanks!”

There was only one, following their doctrine, but the kitchen knife was in pretty good condition. It was a shame it was ceramic, though. The black blade looked good for stealthy use. Kang Ahyeon carefully stored it away, and I continued searching the apartment with her.

What we found wasn't anything special. An unopened bag of snacks, some plain instant noodle packs. Ignoring the already spoiled eggs, the opened and bug-infested snacks, there wasn't even a full day's worth of food. Most places would probably be like this.

That was why I'd asked the choir member Hwang Yechan about their base. Securing already gathered supplies was better than wandering around and risking danger to find new ones. Even if room 808 had stolen some, they couldn't have taken everything. They'd probably only left enough to make the future look bleak. There might be better weapons or supplies, but there was no one left to rob or take them from. No matter how great a weapon you had, it wouldn't work against that snake bastard in the parking lot. It was a nuisance, but it would still be there.

With that thought, we headed to the veranda of room 810. Right next to the veranda overlooking the mountain, at a precarious distance, was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the emergency staircase. Just as I'd expected.

In front of the emergency exit door leading to the eighth floor, various pieces of furniture had been stacked up tightly to block any zombies that might swarm. It was thorough.

“Kang Ahyeon, wait in front of the door.”

“Okayy~”

She made that characteristically lispy sound and moved away. I watched her go for a moment. She wasn't even asking what I was going to do. Well, if she suspected I had a status window, that made sense. I still didn't know why she was hiding it, though. But I didn't want to ask. The unexpected sides she showed were far too threatening.

I measured the distance for a moment, stepped on the veranda windowsill, and reached toward the other side. It wasn't within arm's reach. But if I jumped...

The eighth floor was high enough that a mistake during a jump could kill me, but I felt no fear. I had Track, Strength at 5, and Agility at 4. There was no way I'd fail.

I used the track knowledge that had filled my head at some point to its fullest, stretching my body as much as possible before leaping with all my strength. The immediate rush of speed, the dizzying sensation of gravity trying to drag me down. The me from just yesterday—who'd nearly fallen to his death trying to cross a veranda—was gone.

Grab!

At the end of a jump I never could've made before, I caught the windowless stone railing of the emergency exit and pulled myself up. Even that was incredibly easy. What followed was the same. I cleared away the furniture stacked in front of the door, then climbed the stairs with my sister.

The emergency staircase seemed to have already been cleared—there were only bloodstains. Climbing that quiet, dirty emergency staircase, we reached a loosely closed rooftop iron door. The rooftop, rarely used and therefore always kept closed, was covered in solar panels. The choir's base was there. Protected by a solid iron door, easy to secure water, and offering a clear view of the surroundings. The rooftop.

I carefully opened the iron door with my sister, lowered my body, and headed onto the roof. How many people would there be? Could we intimidate them with force? What kind of supplies would be waiting for us inside?

Carrying both worry and anticipation, when we stepped onto the roof, what we saw was—

“...What the fuck.”

Mangled corpses that had once been human, a group of zombies, and supplies left untouched and abandoned. My sister and I met eyes at the same time and drew our blades.

Yeah. The living have to live.

I approached the zombies and brought my cleaver down.