Our Love Hotel Nest – A Beating Cures All Ills
Our nest was a love hotel; a good beating was the cure for all ills, after all. Don't electronics get fixed when you smack them? I picked up the scattered pebbles from the floor and tossed them lightly, catching them in rhythm. I liked how they flinched with each one.
"How many people are inside the mart?"
"Including all of us, about thirty..."
Thirty was a lot for the size of that mart. Judging by how they'd cleaned up the area and grasped the situation so quickly, they were probably a tight-knit group of real survivors, not some random rabble. No problem for me alone, but with Ritka here, no need to gamble unnecessarily. If they became an issue later, I could always sweep them away solo.
"Kanzaki, let's head back first."
"Okay..."
I patted Ritka's slightly downcast shoulder and turned back to the delinquents.
"We've seen what we needed to. Get lost. And don't go stirring up pointless revenge."
"Yes... thank you."
The guy who'd casually smashed a man's skull acted like it was nothing and slunk away. His crew looked stunned, hesitating before shuffling back into the mart. When it came down to sex or revenge, their own necks came first, right?
No need to pick a fight right now.
I counted the few shadows reflecting in the window, then slowly pulled away from our spot. We headed to the nearby shopping district.
"Kazuma... about Takeru..."
I nodded at Ritka's loaded words, putting on a grieved expression.
"It feels kinda unreal, doesn't hit home, but... it stings a little."
Ritka seemed to have accepted it deep down too, her shoulders slumping. But the way she glanced at me suggested her worry for me—losing family—outweighed any grief for Takeru.
Her backstory's unique, so her reaction's a bit off from normal.
Ritka's character profile mentioned her close guy friends from school going missing now and then. Classic yakuza princess trope. Maybe she was used to it because of that? Or perhaps because she and Takeru hadn't even dated long, and now I was here... Either way, it worked in my favor. I forced a brighter mood, airing out the tension around us.
Inventory mascot life meant plenty of work and headaches.
"First, let's scout the shopping district for any edible food left behind. And check for survivors while we're at it, just in case."
"Got it."
+++
"Grraaah!"
I kicked the zombie at my feet, its head exploding and its exposed cervical vertebrae dangling, spraying blood.
Looks like a festival mascot...
"Kazuma, you okay?"
Ritka hurried over after hearing the noise from dispatching the zombie that had burst out of the ramen shop's warehouse in the shopping district.
"Yeah. No issue."
She glanced at the burst head. Plenty of curiosity about my physics-defying strength that far surpassed an adult male's, but she stayed quiet out of consideration for me—and self-preservation.
I'll tell her when the time's right... But more weirdly, there are barely any zombies.
We'd taken out quite a few getting from the mart to the shopping district. Compared to real gates, zombies were easy-mode stats, but their strength was overwhelming numbers. For Tokyo, Japan's capital, this couldn't be all of them. No survivors in sight either.
Thinking back, those mart folks were suspicious too.
Not that they whittled it down to thirty—maybe thirty was all that survived?
Lost in thought, I watched Ritka beam as she spotted the food I'd prepped in the warehouse earlier and started packing it up. I paused my pondering, sorted my own load, and we left the shop together.
After raiding several restaurants, our bags bulging, we stepped out into the street as the sun began to set.
"Kanzaki, looks like we'll crash somewhere else tonight."
Too late to head back to the mansion, and considering possible tails from the mart, I explained to Ritka why we needed a one-night detour. She shuddered, recalling the delinquents from earlier, and nodded.
"Any decent spots around here?"
"Little farther up, there's a love hotel. We can use that."
Mentioning the love hotel made Ritka's eyes sparkle for some reason. After all her prim behavior so far, curiosity seemed to outweigh any worry.
Wonder if they have cosplay outfits.
With her yakuza roots, a kimono would suit her perfectly. I eyed the lines of her body as she followed cautiously—yeah, nodded to myself. With different thoughts brewing, we turned our steps.
Ritka picked off approaching zombies with her bow; I blocked the sudden jumpers. We pressed on without issue.
It was close anyway—the target building soon came into view. Eerie silence cloaked it, bloodstains mottling the outer walls. I eased the door open, and the wind chimes hanging there rang out cheerily, like they were mocking us.
Zombie couple in the lobby, heads swiveling like a horror flick.
"Grraaah!"
I shoved one down with my spear, then jammed it into the other's skull.
Splurt!
Stomped the one trying to rise, ending the chimes' little rebellion. Ritka shot me her usual trusting gaze. I let out a small chuckle and headed to the kiosk.
Lucky it's working.
The screen was cracked in spots, but zombie-pocket cash paid up, and the keycard dispensed fine.
Nice, seeing this place in person.
It was a safehouse in Tokyo in Apocalypse—rice cake factory, basically? I glanced around the sleazy lobby I'd only seen on-screen before, then told Ritka,
"Kiosk says no guests, so we'll block the entrance and bunk here tonight."
"It shows that too?"
"All rooms empty, so yeah."
Curious, Ritka started poking the kiosk buttons, beeping away. Leaving her, I locked the entrance, barricaded with lobby gear.
"Kanzaki, let's head up."
Finishing solo, she smiled sheepishly at me, like she felt bad.
Seductive little thing... Pay me back with your body.
I smirked back, and we climbed the stairs, checking rooms one by one.
Safety first, asleep or awake. Apocalypse hit midday? No intruders up to the fifth floor. We claimed the biggest room, unpacked.
"Kanzaki, stash perishables in the fridge and tidy up? There's a room service pantry. I'll check it."
"Yes! Leave it to me!"
Leaving her perky response, I headed to the roof first.
Need to find where all the zombies went—any trace.
A vague unease drove me up the stairs fast.
Crunch!
I wrenched the rooftop door handle off and burst out. Not super tall, but the cityscape unfolded below—elevated terrain, probably. Leaning on the railing, I scanned sharp-eyed.
Awakener vision beat normal humans; archer types had insane recon. Not me, but...
Frowning, I spotted zombies crawling out everywhere, shambling slowly somewhere.
Wait, they're moving?
Tracing their path backward,
"What the hell is that...?"
At the end: a throbbing mass of flesh, size warping perspective, utterly nauseating.
Zombies shuffled toward it; a massive arm from behind swept the asphalt, dragging them in. They sank into the flesh, devouring each other—rat pack central.
Abomination? Already?
Abominations were mid-boss field bosses in-game. Story-wise, endgame for zombie-types post-faction wars. Eroge roots meant plain zombies got boring for daytime arcs, so devs tossed in this for plot?
Watching, the empty mansion flashed back.
No survivors, so they're cannibalizing each other?
This was a game turned real. Game had persistent NPCs for stories—zombies killed, turned. But reality?
Everywhere but main-stage Kyoto could be like this...
I'd prepped and hunkered; for normies, apocalypse was true endtimes. Tokyo's density snowballed it. Or otaku nation's fujoshi suicides sped it up.
Ritka's phone showed no Kyoto faction weirdness—no worries before. But now, plans changed.
Was gonna sweet-talk Ritka leisurely to Kyoto. Now, gear up solid. Might open inventory; she needed combat chops too. Roads wrecked, more Abominations anytime.
Need mana-handling skills.
Danjeon mana could handle Abominations easy. Focused, tried nudging it—stubborn as hell.
2nd Awakening fresh; who expects mana control? Just a shiny paper cherry now.
I glared at the Abomination one last time, sighed, and descended from the roof.