Isn't This Our Own Little Civilization? (5)
"Hoo."
Today's tasks were done. There was still a ton left, sure. But to tackle it all, I needed coins, and that meant sending out warriors to stab zombies like mad. Fuck. Nothing was that urgent, right? Let's take it easy.
A bit irritated, I possessed a warrior and headed to the parking lot. The people had already gathered, waiting for me. Time to scavenge supplies again today? I planned to haul back as much as I could, so I'd dragged out two shopping carts stacked together yesterday.
Seeing my shopping carts, their eyes lit up. The carts seemed like a solid idea. Sure, you couldn't run fast, but with a god along, there'd be no need to run anyway? Whispers to that effect buzzed around.
Ugh, annoying. Couldn't someone do this for me?
"...Let's go."
"Yes, God!"
The crowd surged to their feet and followed me.
We returned to the Shrine with the two shopping carts loaded to the brim with drinks, snacks, and all sorts of condiments. Then I went out again and filled another two carts with board games. Of course, I handled the board games solo. These were my treasures. Others might call jewels treasure, but to me, those were just pretty rocks. Board games were my hoard.
Hauling them back in a pile, I felt it deep in my bones—my heart warmed, happiness bloomed, and even my surging lust settled down.
Climbing out of the stone coffin, I grinned at the two carts by the sofa. From the kitchen, Sechem Yaret approached, something bubbling on the stove.
"God. The Ushabti waiting with the chili seeds—I told them to store the seeds back and get to work."
"Huh? Oh, good job."
"But there's something I must report."
"What?"
I was blissfully pondering which board game box to unseal first when Sechem Yaret drew closer and whispered.
"It seems prostitution has arisen among the residents."
"...Huh?"
I froze mid-reach for a game and turned. Sechem Yaret nodded gravely.
"Some women haven't fully recovered their health. New pregnant ones have arrived too. They've been given new homes, but they can't go out to gather supplies. The residents are sharing among themselves, but some demand payment, and it's easily led to prostitution."
"...Pregnant women are prostituting?"
"It seems a few are. Women with families are protected, but there are more loners than expected."
"...Hmm..."
This felt like a serious issue. I set the box down and sank onto the sofa.
"...What if we banned prostitution outright?"
"It would likely breed resentment. The men seeking it want to trade food for it, and the women offering have lost their ability to work, so they have no choice but this way to care for themselves. Blocking it would trouble the women first."
"Hmm..."
Laughter rang out from the other room—kakaka. Sounded like the women were playing board games, and someone had pulled off a ridiculous win. Those girls lived comfortably here, no need or reason for prostitution. But the ones outside? Even with my safety guarantee, surviving alone was tough. Especially pregnant women—they needed good food.
"...Hmm. Alright, here's the plan. For now, reassign family-less pregnant women to the house next door and upstairs. We'll provide their food. If they need water or anything else, send Ushabti with it. Pregnant women are important, right?"
"Of course. My impression is that this human extinction is worse than the last one. Likely 99.99% of humanity has turned zombie or died."
0.01%...? Simple math—that's 800,000 people.
"Doubt it. Probably 99.999% gone."
Gache-dong wasn't a small neighborhood. Over ten thousand lived here. Survivors? Maybe a hundred if we're lucky. And that's because a god showed up—people are finding stability. Most places? Wiped clean of humans. Wouldn't shock me if only 100,000 humans left worldwide.
Our apartment complex had grown a bit, folks smiling and getting by, but this place was special. Everywhere else was hell.
"Your judgment is correct, God. A truly horrific situation. Pregnant women are thus invaluable."
"Yeah... Alright. Go gather the pregnant women."
Another problem cropped up.
"God. I've relocated the pregnant women, but I have something to report."
"Yeah. What?"
I set aside the rulebook for the new board game.
"Quite a few want abortions. Seems they got pregnant unwillingly."
"...From being sex toys in that building?"
"Yes. Precisely."
...This apocalypse was insane.
"...I get their feelings, but... can you do it?"
"Impossible for me."
"Huh?"
Sechem Yaret was dead serious.
"God. I wish to assist births and raise children. Abortion? No."
...Right. She was all-in on repopulating humanity with my help.
"...Sigh..."
I thought it over. Ultimately...
...we needed a doctor.
"Any survivors here who are doctors or nurses... anything like that?"
"No. While checking health, I asked about memories and sanity—no one in medicine."
"Right..."
Ugh. Headache incoming. I rubbed my temple.
"...Tell the pregnant women—no, better I say it myself. Gather them at the stairwell base."
"Yes, God."
The pregnant women's faces were grim. They'd escaped the Orc building as desired, only to face the reality of unwanted pregnancies.
"Sechem can't remove the babies from your wombs. It's beyond her abilities."
I was in shorts, shirtless. Lately—and my women probably hadn't noticed, always sticking close—my muscles had bulked up nicely. Pecs decent, abs sharp, shoulders broadening. Like a hot model's build. Or closer to a god's.
"I am a god. I can do many things. But removing a child from the womb? Beyond me too."
Their heads drooped lower. A whisper slipped out.
'I don't wanna give birth...'
Everyone heard but pretended not. Except me.
"I get how you feel. That's why I'm saying this: I'll go look for a doctor. But don't get your hopes too high. You know the situation—world overrun by zombies, everyone dead or turned. No telling if I find one."
"...But you're a god... don't you know?"
"Yeah. Not a future-seeing god. Plenty of you have seen what I can do. That's the god I am—not one who knows every future event, every person's whereabouts. Can't promise, so don't hope big."
I pushed off the wall and stood straight.
"At dawn tomorrow, I head out for a doctor. Till then, Sechem will handle your food, water, needs. I promise to try my best. But not that I'll definitely find one. Got it?"
The women nodded.
"Good. Rest up."
As I turned, Sechem Yaret passed me and addressed them.
"Pregnant women need regular health checks. Before going home, everyone hold my hand once. It won't hurt—just hold it."
Ha... fuck this apocalypse. Where the hell do I find a doctor amid zombie hell?
Yeonsu lay beside me, basking in afterglow, half-passed out. She'd sleep like this. Better tuck her in properly.
"Hoo..."
Mind heavy. I'd stocked board games galore, and now business trips? The issue: 'dog-face' form lacked persuasion. Crumbling to sand? Could get me labeled a monster—hell, it already had multiple times.
A doctor... we needed one, yeah. Not just for pregnancies—Sechem didn't say it, but folks' faces twisted in fear every time she approached. A human doctor would be best. Everyone knew Sechem was good, but snake over human? Nah.
Plus, if our group grew, she couldn't handle everyone solo. I wanted her focused on the Shrine. So someone for human care—human doctor or nurse. Worth looking.
Say we found one. 'Monster!' wouldn't help. 'Who are you?' was approachable. For that, send a human-form hero. Or...
...go myself.
"Hoo..."
Stress piling up.
First, wrap up other tasks. Morning came. Earned another 3,000 coins in Dujai-dong. Took people scavenging too. Loaded two more carts from the bookstore—board games overflowing now. Half the shelves unopened.
The late-rising women? Hugged each once, waited for them to come to, bathed together, ate.
Then I said,
"I'm heading out on a trip."