Partnership with Her
Whoosh…
Warm water poured over me.
It wasn’t cold rainwater, and it wasn’t some towel soaked and wrung out either. This was real hot water—I had no idea how long it had been—and I felt every drop of it soak into my body as I washed.
“Haaah…”
The dried blood scabs, the stuff that wasn’t my blood, and the parts stained with my own blood didn’t come off easily. But they weren’t fused to my skin either. Once the hot water hit them, they slowly rinsed away.
Whoa…
I was just standing there under the water, and already the stench of blood was vanishing—not only the external reek clinging to me, but the stink that had dug its claws deep into my insides and refused to let go. It all felt like it was washing off.
Day after day of breathing in corpse stench, I’d thought I’d gone numb to the foul blood-smell of those things. Apparently not.
By the time I finally stepped out of the shower, a full hour had passed.
Roughly one hour earlier.
Han Seohee was panicking—because someone had entered this research facility, a place no one had ever expected to see a living person walk into again.
She didn’t let herself get optimistic about it either. She stayed calm and ran through the worst-case scenarios first.
How they got in was secondary. Han Seohee had long since accepted that the world was finished. So if someone was here, the odds favored either a scavenger come to loot the place or an infected, far more than anyone friendly.
Click.
She pulled a pistol from the top-secret secure storage—researcher self-defense gear—and gripped it tight.
“Hoo… You can do this. You can do this, Han Seohee.”
She clenched the gun in both hands. The cold steel, the solid weight of it, settled into her palms.
And Han Seohee made herself a promise: she would hold this place until the colleagues who had left came back. She knew they never would. Still, she would make sure that when they returned, they would see everything she had researched.
Like a prayer, she closed her eyes over the pistol clenched in both hands and steeled herself.
On the security CCTV, the intruder was about to take the second corner—right in front of the security room, the path that led to Research Lab 3.
“Let’s go.”
She tightened her grip and carefully eased the door open.
Scuff. Soft scrape.
The intruder’s footsteps weren’t heavy. Just a muffled sound, like fabric wrapped around the soles. But in a research facility silent except for the hum of machines, that alone was enough to pinpoint the location.
“Don’t move.”
Her voice trembled. She had never done anything this violent in her life, and that made it even more terrifying.
The intruder froze for a beat as if startled by her words, then turned his head.
…He looks young.
Younger than she’d expected. Han Seohee had been bracing for some rough-looking bearded thug; she took a steadying breath and raised the muzzle higher instead.
Black blood was slowly dripping from the axe in his hand.
Infected blood. The iron content in the hemoglobin skyrockets, and because the infected barely breathe, oxygen can’t keep up with the iron—so the blood turns black.
She automatically ran the data through her head, then caught herself and checked his appearance again.
He looked young at a glance—mid-twenties at most. Mild features, soft eyes. The axe, the iron plates on his shoulder and arm, the dirty coat full of holes with what looked like a ballistic vest underneath.
…What is that arm?
Side effect of artificial muscle? An oversized left arm, red muscle fibers bursting through the skin like they’d torn their way out, hanging all the way past his knees.
Are people out there getting illegal artificial muscle implants now?
“I said don’t move.”
Even if his face happened to match her type, she had no intention of going easy.
And that was her mistake.
“Haaah…! I feel alive again.”
Somehow I’d ended up washing for a full hour and burned through a ton of hot water, but I didn’t feel guilty about it. Cooperative relationship or not, she was the one who’d pointed a gun at me first. Using this much was fair game.
When I stepped out, I unfolded the clean clothes she’d left outside the bathroom. Han Seohee had said the male researchers’ clothes were just sitting there unused, so go ahead and take them. I’d compared sizes and brought some back, but there was a problem.
“…Is the left arm even going to fit?”
My old clothes had been completely shredded at the sleeve and arm by this damn mutant limb, so I’d had no choice but to wear them like that. But this was a shirt. A white dress shirt. The perfectly normal right arm went in fine. The left was the issue.
“Ha, shit… What do I do with this?”
If I walked out in just the pants, I was going to become the Amazing One-Boob-Flashing Pervert of the Apocalypse for sure.
I flashed one, so she should flash one too. That’s just manners, right?
Shut up.
I took the axe to that insane thought the second it flickered through my head and chopped it into oblivion.
Just drape it over my shoulder?
I might not look it, but I’d kept up with exercise to stay alive. I wasn’t massive, but I had lean muscle and definition I wasn’t ashamed of. I’d never been embarrassed by my body in the first place. Born without a left arm, I’d complained about the inconvenience, but I’d never been ashamed of the body that came with that missing piece.
Still, no.
Even narcissistic madness had limits. If the other person had been a guy I might have tried going shirtless, but this was the opposite sex.
“Wait a second.”
I thought of the mutant this arm had originally belonged to. The thing had morphed its arm into dozens of ear-holes just to find me hiding under a bed. Remembering it now was enough to trigger trypophobia, but the important part was that the arm could transform.
I just didn’t know how. How was I supposed to make it change shape?
No. Moments like this called for a civilized, gentlemanly approach. When things don’t go my way, I don’t get angry, throw a tantrum, and resort to violence. I take the first step toward resolving every conflict.
This was a small step—but for me, a giant leap.
“…Hoo. Let’s try it.”
I steeled myself and looked at my left arm. And then…
“Hey, Jompari. If you can get smaller, how about shrinking a bit?”
I made my voice as gentle as possible and tried talking to it. The name I’d decided on for this damn arm was Jompari—zombie arm. I tried negotiating under that moniker.
I remembered an old comic with a similar case. The protagonist called the parasite that took over his right hand “Righty.” Mine wasn’t just a hand—the whole arm had parasitically attached itself. So: Jompari.
“….”
I’d expected it, but the damn arm didn’t react at all. Instantly I looked like a lunatic trying to bargain with his own left arm.
“Fine, whatever.”
In the end I used my fingers to cut the left sleeve of the shirt completely away and forced the arm through the hole. One thing I learned while putting the clothes on: thanks to how free the joints were, if I folded the arm in half and fed it in from the elbow, it was actually pretty comfortable.
I should’ve figured that out sooner.
I finished pulling on the slacks and walked toward the private research lab where she would be waiting.
Beep—
The door with the nameplate reading Han Seohee. I swiped the still-useful card belonging to our good friend Mr. Jang Seungwon across the reader beside it and stepped inside.
“You’re finally here.”
“I used it a little long, but it was great. Thanks.”
“….”
The moment I walked in she spun her chair and tossed me a cold look, but the second she saw how clean I was, she seemed embarrassed herself and quickly looked away.
“…Ahem. Ahem. Before we start the tests, let’s eat while you tell me who you are. I can’t keep calling you ‘you,’ ‘that guy,’ or ‘over there.’”
“Food?”
“I heard you earlier—you said you’ve been managing simple meals. So I prepared something.”
Now that she mentioned it, there had been a delicious smell ever since I came in. Familiar, but faded in my mind like sand worn smooth.
“It’s gone cold, but eat. That’s your fault for washing so long.”
“Holy shit.”
“…What’s wrong?”
She casually held out a disposable plate. On it sat round pieces of meat, browned and cooked through.
Yeah. Meat.
With trembling hands I took the plate and wooden chopsticks she offered. The rich smell of well-cooked meat rose from below and hit my nose. The surface of the brown-grilled meat still glistened with juices and oil even after sitting, looking utterly appetizing.
“Hap…”
I picked up a piece with the chopsticks and put it in my mouth.
When my teeth bit down, the juices burst and the aroma flooded my head. The meat’s fragrance mixed with a faint crispy char still left inside, stimulating my tongue even more.
Saliva I couldn’t stop, flavor so good I almost hated to swallow. I chewed for a long time until nothing of the meat’s shape remained, and only then managed to get that single bite down.
“It’s artificial cultured meat, so bear with it. That’s all we have left here.”
“…May I call you that?”
“Hm? What?”
“May I call you noona…?”
“Uh… uh-uh…?”
A single streak of meat juice slipped from the corner of my eye. I wasn’t normally someone who cried this easily.
“As of today I am no longer in a mere cooperative relationship with Seohee noona. Any attack on Seohee noona will be considered an attack on me.”
“…Just shut up and eat.”
Every time I took a bite of meat I piled on the shameless flattery about Seohee noona. At first she’d been indifferent, but now even she looked embarrassed and turned her face away.
Of the three essentials that make a person—food, clothing, shelter—she’d filled two. She was basically a goddess. Anyone who disagreed could eat some of this meat and then talk.
While eating the meat Seohee noona had given me, I told her who I was.
“Cheon Siwoo, twenty-three… Did that left arm get eaten?”
“Not eaten. It just wasn’t there, and then it attached.”
“Wasn’t there…? Ah, so an infected bit you and you cut it off?”
“No, I was just born without it.”
There was a brief communication error while we talked, but overall it went fine. Seohee noona asked how my left arm had ended up like this. I had nothing to hide and figured there might be some clue in it, so I told her honestly.
“So while I was splitting that bastard’s skull, I got slammed too and went down dying.”
“Yeah, and then?”
“The thing that had collapsed suddenly sat up—with just its arm.”
I’d always liked talking to people. That was why I’d been grateful to Auntie Baek, who’d kept me company with conversation at the rooftop market. In this bleak, stifling world, the only thing that kept the will to live burning was interaction. I’d managed little exchanges here and there, but Seohee noona had been completely isolated in this place. She looked fine on the surface, but mentally she might have been stretched to the absolute limit.
So I talked with Seohee noona more than usual. From somewhat brutal but realistic stories, to the pitiful ones about having no choice but to kill infected family members. Even though Seohee noona had pointed a gun at me, even when I’d put my hand to her throat, even when she’d touched my stomach—strangely, my left arm never reacted.
I couldn’t explain it clearly, but this arm sensed threats to me and responded. It had no concept of holding back; without a single exception it immediately went for the head. The fact that it hadn’t reacted to her maybe meant…
She genuinely had no intention of harming me.
“Alright, let’s start the tests now.”
“Ah.”
I’d completely forgotten the most important thing.