Hope for Sale

"You've worked hard, Oppa."

The moment I stepped into the main school building with Haejun, Yejin — who'd been diligently scrubbing bloodstains off the hallway floor — bowed her head in greeting.

Yujin and Sujin followed her lead, ducking their heads with awkward little bows. I acknowledged them with a vague nod and shrugged off my bag, handing it over to her.

"I grabbed some toothbrushes, a few bars of soap, and about a dozen packs of jerky. Open one up and share it with the kids."

"That's all right. The kids aren't that hungry. I'll eat with you when you have your meal, Oppa."

"...Suit yourself, then."

The way she firmly shook her head and clutched the bag tight radiated a clear resolve: even if they were her own little siblings and minors to boot, wasting food was absolutely not happening.

We'd already agreed that once I brought supplies back, Yejin would handle the management from there. I shrugged and pointed at Haejun.

"From now on, treat him the same as Chaeyeon — provisional combatant status. Don't put him on grunt work."

"Ah, yes. Haejun, are you hurt anywhere?"

"...I'm fine, Noona. More or less."

He'd rolled across the ground more times than he could count trying not to get his throat bitten out, so he looked like he'd been dusted head to toe — but whether it was luck or actual instinct, the scrapes from three or four fights were the worst of it. He'd even managed to take down two of them on his own in that last fight. He could pass for a functional human being now, more or less.

Anyway, that was enough outing for one day. Time to clean house.

I passed the first-floor facilities, which were growing steadily cleaner under Yejin's direction, and headed into the bathroom with Haejun.

"First-floor bathroom. Turn the water on for a bit."

"I was about to start the corpse cleanup anyway. I'll grind everything that comes out of it, so just hang on."

For Crow, resources meant the energy she needed to function — so of course my words sounded like good news. According to what she'd whispered to me last night, there were at least a hundred or so hunks of meat scattered throughout this main building. Clearing all of them was going to be a job in itself.

I quickly rinsed the blood off my iron pipe, washed my face, then spoke to Haejun, who was staring blankly at the water pooled in the sink.

"Good work. Go rest at the café first."

"...Yes, hyung-nim."

He opened the bathroom door and started to leave, then hesitated. Suddenly he bent at the waist into a full ninety-degree bow.

"Thank you. Truly. Hyung-nim. I won't forget this debt."

"Yeah. Sure."

I gave him a halfhearted answer while wiping a leftover bloodstain off in the mirror. Haejun bowed once more — whether I was watching or not — and stepped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out.

A thank-you. Well, not bad.

How often, in the modern world before the end, did anyone ever receive gratitude that sincere? The shameless types who treated kindness like an entitlement — who got rescued and then demanded the whole bundle on top — swarmed this planet. You didn't even need personal experience to know that; the internet made it plain enough.

But even that's not enough anymore.

I slowly wiped away a streak of blood that had trickled from my eyebrow down toward my cheekbone, thinking.

When I'd resolved to fill this school with people who owed me their lives, the first thing I'd flagged as a real concern was exactly those shameless types. Not the obvious garbage — like the ones yesterday who'd smashed down a front door trying to jump the girls — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but the ones whose behavior looked normal while their minds were anything but.

I splashed my face one more time to finish washing up and stared hard into the mirror.

If something like that showed up in front of me, how would I handle it?

Just kill them all on a whim, like yesterday?

Or should I still hold some kind of minimum line?

I didn't know. I'd just do whatever I felt like.

From the moment I'd opened my eyes this morning, even the faint pity I'd felt every time I looked at Sujin was gone. All that remained was a reflexive hunger and a lust that had long since crossed the line from merely bothersome.

After that, I'd set myself a single motto. Something to cling to — even just the fraying edge of the humanity I was steadily losing.

Goodwill for goodwill. Malice for malice.

And that motto cut both ways. If anyone failed to return the goodwill I offered in kind, I fully intended to extract it by force — up to the point where it didn't shred what was left of my humanity.

Whether drawing that line would keep working forever, though... I had no idea. Someday I might close my eyes, open them again, and find the other person already dead.

I shook the water off my hands, picked up the iron pipe, and walked out of the bathroom.

After that, I called a break and gathered everyone in the café for a quick shopping session.

Following last night's explanation, I started browsing the A-Type goods from the top of the list. Beside me, Yejin spoke up in her soft, careful way.

"I cleaned up the entire hallway around the book café, just like you told me to, Oppa. And of course none of the kids went anywhere near the stairs up to the second floor."

"Yeah, good work. I'm going to clear this whole building today. Even so, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠until I say otherwise, everyone stays around the book café."

"Understood."

"And about earlier, when I went out for food... hmm? Hold on."

I'd been about to fill her in on the apartment situation when a number on the computer screen stopped me cold.

"What the hell. Why do I have so much money? I'm pretty sure it was only a little over ten yesterday."

"What, killing that orangutan? Come on, even so..."

I frowned and looked down at the back of my hand. The blackened skull pattern looked the same as always — no way to read any numbers off it — but the currency display linked to it at the top of the computer screen had clearly crossed into triple digits.

"A regular corpse is worth one Tar. You're telling me that one orangutan was worth over a hundred?"

"No matter how I look at it, that's inflated. You're saying that bastard was equivalent to a pile of a hundred and twenty corpses."

"...Whatever. So I can spend all of this, no problem?"

She promptly wiped the cheap product list I'd been browsing and started pulling up individual items with price tags well into the dozens of Tar.

"Nah. I'll just use one of the iron pipes lying around the gym."

"What, one crossbow costs seventy corpses? Are you kidding me? Not buying."

I draped an arm around the thin shoulders of the girl beside me, who was staring at the screen with curious eyes. Yejin flinched, but I ignored it and asked her,

"Kim Yejin. If I buy you that, you confident you can use it well?"

"...Ah, no, Oppa. I've never fired a crossbow before..."

"Right. Who these days has ever used a relic ranged weapon like that? Modern people should be shooting guns."

"...I've never fired a gun either."

I ignored the muttered admission and looked at Crow. She crossed her arms with a sulky expression and opened her mouth.

"Oh? That's actually buyable."

"...What? Did I hear that wrong?"

Oh, for fuck's sake.

How the hell do you price a single bullet at the same value as twenty corpses?

"What, does it explode like a grenade on impact or something?"

"What a load of shit. Tell them to go eat a dick."

I shook my head and waved a hand at the screen, telling her to clear it. I was about to pull my arm off the still-frozen Yejin and stand up when Crow floated one last product window.

"What's this?"

"So now you're just jumping straight to the hundred-Tar tier?"

"...Yeah. It is definitely a different category."

Though the degree of difference felt a little extreme.

A classic hexagonal coffin, painted black. I stared at the image plastered across the product display and asked,

"What kind of random nonsense is this? What, am I supposed to lie down in there and take a nap? What Type even is this?"

"...A tattoo?"

"Okay. And in simpler terms?"

"Aha. And even simpler than that?"

At my deliberately, infuriatingly coy prompting, Crow narrowed her eyes for a moment — then delivered the final answer.

Only then did my eyes go wide. Crow smiled and added one last thing.