Parricide (3)

I used to mutter it to myself whenever the thought struck me that life was absolute dogshit. After searching for a cheap hobby I could afford on my pathetic salary, I’d gotten hooked on web novels. In those stories, countless protagonists lived comfortable, happy lives thanks to the convenient and powerful abilities granted by their status windows. Sure, some of them suffered, but that hardship was just the sweet potato needed to make the following cider hit even harder. If it didn’t drag on too long, a decent sweet potato actually made the cider taste more refreshing. Every time I read something like that, I’d think the same thing.

I want a status window too. I want to coast through life on easy mode.

Even when I wallowed in self-pity, nothing ever changed. All I could do was grumble and wonder how I’d get through tomorrow. That was the extent of my existence. Until light finally shone on my pathetic life.

The world had clearly gone insane with all this zombie nonsense. That was what I’d told myself. But this status window was undeniably real. Just moments ago, when I’d nearly fallen to my death, if this window had been fake, I would have died for sure. There was no way my body—starved for three days—had the strength to pull itself up. Let alone balance on one arm after losing my footing. The fact that I was still alive was proof that this impossible situation was completely, terrifyingly real.

Joy flooded through me. This shitty situation, this cider that would turn my entire life up until now into nothing but sweet potato. I no longer had any reason to hold my breath in shame over the past or worry about the future. It felt ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠incredible. Even though my body was throbbing with pain.

“Oppa, are you okay? You fell really hard… does it hurt?”

My sister stepped over the corpses of the parents she had stabbed to death and approached me. I smiled at her.

“Come here!”

I grabbed her wrist as she gave me a puzzled look and yanked her into my arms.

“Eek…?!”

I pulled her close and rolled across the floor with her.

“O-oppa?! W-why are you suddenly—heehee, ahaha, what’s this all about?!”

At first she was startled, but as I kept rolling with her in my arms, she burst into bright laughter. It made me feel even better. It reminded me of the time she got into university and we’d scraped together enough money to move out on our own. Back then, we’d done the same thing. We thought the best part of our lives was just beginning.

Of course, the world had ended, she never got to attend the university she wanted, and our parents had died like idiots. But now the misfortune was over.

I laughed with my sister as we tumbled across the floor, only stopping once her hair was a complete mess.

“…Ugh, I’m out of energy. I’m starving.”

“What the heck, you big dummy.”

“I’m hungry, so don’t pick a fight.”

Not every problem had been solved, of course. There were still plenty left. We had no food, the situation wasn’t resolved, and there could be more zombies in the other apartments. I couldn’t let my guard down completely. But I couldn’t just sit still either.

Sure enough, a window immediately filled my vision.

Was this quest only showing me beneficial things? I didn’t know its purpose, but it wasn’t wrong. People needed food to survive. No one could live without water and food. To get that, I needed weapons and a plan.

My eyes immediately turned toward apartment 808. The one where something had thumped against the door when I knocked on the veranda. There was definitely a zombie inside. That much was certain. But it was still better than a place where I had no idea what might be waiting.

Not that I knew everything about 808 either.

“Hey, Kang Ahyeon.”

“Mmm?”

“Get up. We need to go find something to eat.”

“Oh, right.”

What an idiot. Every time she acted like this, I was reminded of how helpless she was. If I, her older brother, hadn’t taken care of her, she would’ve become a zombie long ago. Looking at this stupid girl made me realize I couldn’t waste any more time. This was my chance.

I wasn’t invincible. Even though I had more strength than expected for someone who’d been starving, I had no proper weapons, and getting bitten would probably be fatal. Until I gained real confidence that I wouldn’t get bitten, or my stats increased and gave me something useful, I had to be careful.

In that sense, 808 seemed like a decent choice. At least I knew there was a zombie inside. The problem was how to get in.

I stared at the open front door for a moment, then suddenly stood up. Kang Ahyeon, who had been leaning against me, rolled onto the floor with a little “Ouch!” but quickly scrambled to her feet and followed me like a puppy.

The hallway was wide open. There were no windows separating the corridor from the outside—just a concrete wall that came up to about chest height. It was the perfect place to fall to your death if you weren’t careful. Ever since the zombies appeared, plenty of those crazy cult followers had jumped off. There were no bodies left, but the bloodstains were everywhere.

The stairs leading to the ninth and seventh floors were blocked with random furniture, and I could faintly sense signs of life. There were probably zombies on the floors above and below us too. But that wasn’t something I needed to worry about right now. My target was 808—the one place where I had at least some information.

On the way there, my sister glanced back at 806.

“Oppa, shouldn’t we put some furniture in front of the neighbor’s door?”

“Later. I’m too hungry and weak to move furniture right now.”

“I could help…”

“How would you help? With those skinny little arms?”

“Hmph.”

Still, she had a point. There were quite a few zombies inside 806. I’d used my wits to shove them in there somehow, but I couldn’t assume the door would hold forever. I had to keep in mind the possibility that the door could break or be opened at any time.

But that problem would solve itself naturally. Once I filled my stomach, gathered a week’s worth of food to complete the quest, and invested one point into Strength.

“Let’s find food first.”

Hoping that the people in 808 hadn’t been particularly devout and had left some food behind before they died, we stopped in front of the door. There was definitely at least one zombie inside—on the veranda. But there was no guarantee there weren’t more. It wasn’t certain. I had to be cautious. If a fight broke out, even the smallest injury could be dangerous. Better to be careful about everything.

I glanced at my sister, who was holding a kitchen knife, then pressed my eye to the peephole. I couldn’t see anything. Maybe it was too dark. The first thing to check was whether the door was locked. If it was, I’d have to ring the doorbell to lure the zombie to the entrance and enter through the veranda. I didn’t want to risk slipping again since there was no guarantee I’d survive a second fall, but…

“…It’s not locked.”

Luckily, the door wasn’t locked. But I didn’t open it recklessly. I had to be cautious and deliberate. Sion Mountain Fortress Building 2 was where the lower-ranking members of this insane cult lived—the ones who weren’t respected even within the cult. Naturally, the zombie outbreak would have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hit harder here than in Building 1. There were no guards, no weapons, and no one capable of fighting. While it was still considered high-ranking compared to the rest of the cult because they had been granted residency in the fortress, they weren’t exactly the upper class.

I pressed my ear against the door and listened while glancing sideways at my sister. I wondered if Building 1 was still intact. I didn’t know. And I didn’t particularly care. It wasn’t important right now.

For now, I couldn’t sense any presence inside 808. The apartments on the eighth floor had decent soundproofing, but not perfect. After holding my breath for a long time, I opened the door. The interior ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was similar to our place but with a slightly different layout. The house was neither clean nor dirty. It was just… typical. There was a refrigerator, a pantry, and while the cult’s doctrine prevented them from owning too many kitchen knives, there should have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been at least one for daily use. But there wasn’t any. Had they taken it with them?

I scanned the room. What if the thumping sound earlier had come from a person instead of a zombie? None of the bastards in this cult were decent people. It felt like they had deliberately gathered the worst examples of humanity. If someone had good grades, they were a cultist with good grades. If they had a good physique, they were a cultist with a good physique. Coexistence was impossible. There was no telling when they might turn on us, or when they might try something stupid considering our position and status within the cult. So it was best not to run into anyone if possible.

If we did run into someone…

A heavy sense of rejection welled up inside me. I forced it down and continued searching the house. It felt barren. Like they had packed up everything and left. I opened the pantry and the refrigerator, but there was no food. Not even a single dish remained. But it wasn’t completely empty. Clear footprints stood out among the thin layer of dust.

And that wasn’t all.

“Oppa, there are no shoes.”

Just like my sister said as she carefully tugged on my sleeve, there were no shoes. Had they gathered everything they needed and escaped before the zombies arrived? A faint irritation surged through me. I’d at least hoped to find some snacks. As anxiety crept in at the thought that I had to find something while I could still move, I noticed the zombie tied up on the veranda.

“Ah…”

That explained why we had only heard thumping and never saw it break the window and jump, why it hadn’t reacted even when we were talking as we entered, and why it had stayed quiet even when the zombies were banging on our front door. The zombie was tied to the veranda. It wore chains and shackles of unknown origin, and right in front of it lay chunks of a corpse.

A sudden wave of dizziness hit me. My stomach churned. When I staggered, my sister tensed up and stared at the zombie as well. Who had tied it up here? What was that corpse? And the zombie? If it had been tied up and then eaten, there were too few bloodstains. My parents, whom Kang Ahyeon had stabbed, had bled far more. If it had been eaten, there should have been more blood. It felt like someone had been feeding it.

We were staring at what appeared to be a female zombie in her thirties, moving closer to examine it more carefully, when my sister tugged on my clothes. Her outstretched finger pointed toward one side of the veranda. It was pointing at the railing. And at the rope hanging from it.

A rope tied to several pillars of the veranda railing near the outdoor unit, connected into a single line that stretched downward. It was a clear sign of human activity. And that rope was moving. Not swaying in the wind—moving because someone was climbing it.

The moment I realized that, my sister and I quickly hid in the empty space where the shoe cabinet had been. Someone was coming up. Probably the owner of this apartment. And what followed the sound of that person gripping the railing and climbing wasn’t a mutter to themselves.

I held my breath quietly. I steadied my breathing and gripped something heavy in my hand, listening to the faint sound of air being sliced. When I met my sister’s eyes, the stranger spoke.

“…Come out. Whoever you are.”

With a clunk, the stranger closed the veranda door we had left open and stepped into the living room.