Human Disqualification
“You fucking dog bastards—!”
Crash! Clatter!
Like a sense of déjà vu, Vice Principal Lee Chung-ryeol couldn't hold back his rage the moment he returned to the gym and kicked over a chair.
“They've got some nerve! When they needed our help, they came begging, and now what!? They don't need us anymore? Don't be a pain in the ass and just fuck off!?”
Thud! Crash!
“You arrogant little shits!”
He hadn't even considered that their request to join the Hunting Dogs on scavenging runs would be rejected outright, so his fury refused to subside. In truth, it wasn't just anger—it was laced with desperation, making it burn even hotter.
Even when they'd embezzled portions meant for the Hunting Dogs, the supplies were already scarce, and now with the Dogs' shares deducted again—not just for the future, but right now—the teachers were slowly starving to death.
Meanwhile, the Hunting Dogs had been going out scavenging with Cheonun's group these past few days, hauling back all sorts of food and throwing parties every damn night.
Seeing that had given them the courage to finally step outside themselves...
“We don't need you fuckers either!”
Snicker, snicker.
“Vice Principal. What are we gonna do now?”
“What do you mean, what? We'll go out on our own!”
The vice principal shouted defiantly, hoisting a golf club. The other teachers erupted in fervent agreement.
“Yeah! What can't we do!?”
“Right, right. If those bastards can do it, we'll do it even better!”
It was a reaction they never would've dreamed of before, but after witnessing the Hunting Dogs' success, not just the vice principal but all the teachers had subconsciously absorbed that mindset.
What if zombies aren't such a big deal? What if outside is a land flowing with milk and honey?
Above all, seeing the Hunting Dogs—who they'd beaten black and blue—return alive and well, they figured there was no reason they, with far greater numbers and superiority, couldn't manage it.
“Let's have a group dinner for the first time in ages!”
“““Woooaaah!”””
Clap clap clap clap clap!
Just as someone who makes a job look easy is truly exceptional at it.
The teachers had no idea how many near-death scrapes the Hunting Dogs had endured on day one, or that their successful scavenging was only possible thanks to the synergy between Cheonun and Go Ah-rang.
Clutching their naive hopes, the teachers ventured out.
It had been three days since the black rain fell.
…
[Food, food! Tasty. Food!]
Wag, wag.
“Right? Right? You did good trusting me, huh?”
Go Ah-rang wagged her tail right along with them, beaming happily at the dogs devouring heaps of food from their bowls.
“You guys gotta eat lots and run hard again tomorrow, okay?”
[Walkies. Get food too. Yay!]
The food they'd earned by drawing the zombies' attention away from Cheonun's group.
She slurped up a mouthful of ramen, reaffirming once more that her choice had been right.
Crackle.
Slurp, slurp.
“Mmph? Mmmph?!”
The walkie-talkie picked up the owl's hoot and automatically relayed it.
She hurriedly swallowed the food in her mouth.
Gulp.
“What? You found a shiny-clothed rotten human?”
“Huh? Then why'd you call?”
“What the hell is it saying?”
She sighed at the owl's incomprehensible babble and raised her binoculars.
'High nest—must mean the church cross, right?'
She swung the binoculars toward the church.
“Huh?”
The cheap scavenged binoculars didn't give her the owl's fine detail, but they were enough to spot the teachers' pathetic sight.
“What the fuck are they doing?”
Unlike other survivors who crept low and stealthy, the teachers were marching right down the middle of the road in a group.
She wondered if they had the combat confidence of Cheonun's crew, but no—a second look disproved it.
Golf clubs, okay... but trays and chairs...?
Go Ah-rang pressed her forehead at the sight of the teachers armed with whatever junk they'd grabbed from the school.
“What do they think they're gonna do like that?”
The area near the school—regularly cleared by Cheonun—was still light on zombies, so a group could handle them fine.
But as they ventured farther into the alleys lined with food shops...
Slurp, slurp.
“That's not...”
Even without the owl's warning, she knew that area was hell—where prior survivors had gone for food and died, now swarming with Running Zombies.
Crash!
—Aaaagh!
—Fuck, what the hell is that!
—Save me! Please save me!
Sure enough, moments after splitting up to search shops, they burst out chased by hidden zombies.
Thud thud thud.
Crunch.
Munch munch.
—Agh! Agh! Aaagh!
Thud thud thud, thud thud thud!
Like a herd of prey animals being hunted, the teachers dwindled one by one, snatched by variant zombies.
—Agh! Agh! Aaagh!
Thud thud thud, thud thud thud!
The silver lining—if you could call it that—was the screaming teachers drawing all the zombies' attention as they got devoured.
—Open the gate!!! Open the fucking gate!
Rattle rattle.
Bang, bang, bang!
—Kyaaagh!!
—Someone, anyone, do something about those things!
Terror-stricken teachers shook the school gate, with zombies swarming behind them. The female teachers inside panicked, fleeing instead of opening it.
Only when the Hunting Dogs and Cheonun came out to open it did the teachers finally stagger back inside.
“Sigh, whatever. They'll figure it out.”
At the black-comedy-level pathetic display, she pressed her forehead and turned away.
“Round and round. Ignore those idiots too. Go find shiny zombies again.”
Go Ah-rang's early dismissal of the teachers had been the right call.
At least she didn't have to witness their worst—and final—humiliation that night.
…
The mood in the faculty office, now that the teachers had barely limped back, had plummeted straight through rock bottom into the abyss.
“Ughh... hnggh...”
“...”
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck...”
The ones who'd gone out had their mental states shattered watching colleagues get split into “prey” before their eyes. Even those clinging to sanity had to bludgeon bitten teachers to death themselves, crumbling completely.
Worst of all was the “haul” from all those deaths: three packets of frying powder, a bottle of vinegar, and some moldy water jugs from a powered-down fridge...
“All that for this!?”
Bang!
Flinch.
“Hic... hng...”
There had been more food originally, but they'd dropped it all fleeing. This was it.
And most of the blame fell on the vice principal who'd first suggested scavenging.
Glare.
“...How the fuck do you have the face to come back alive?”
“We never should've listened to that bastard...”
“That old fuck should've been the one bitten...”
It didn't matter anymore if they'd agreed with him or not.
They'd lost every shred of reason left.
The vice principal, silently taking the abuse, suddenly stood.
Whoosh.
“Mr. Hyun-woong. A word...”
He dragged a male teacher—who'd been dating one of the Hunting Dogs—into the hall.
“Mr. Hyun-woong, you still seeing that girl?”
“W-well, after last time, things got awkward between us...”
“You can still talk to her, right?”
The vice principal grabbed him. His eyes screamed desperation: stay still, and he'd be the next at the bottom of the pile.
“Use your girlfriend to convince the admin team to attack those little shits with us.”
“What!?”
“Shh.”
Glance, glance.
“I'll give half the stuff from the gym. Convince them to join us.”
“B-but... those fuckers have guns, I think...”
His eyes twitched at “guns,” but he steeled himself.
“Toys, probably. Or junk they picked up off the street. Even if real, what's to worry, Mr. Hyun-woong? They're only three. With admin and us, ten hands beat one. What can those punks do?”
The male teacher's gaze slid away from the vice principal's madness-glazed, desire-filled rant.
“W-will the teachers really go for it...?”
“I'll handle convincing them. Just pass the word right.”
The vice principal should've done this from the start. Drive them out before it was too late. This school is mine, he hammered into the man like brainwashing.
And it worked—the Hunting Dogs signaled assent.
“I know it's tough, everyone, but hang in just a bit. Once we deal with those bastards, we won't have to live like this anymore!”
The teachers wanted to believe, so they did.
No more rational humans, not even thinking animals.
Just huddled, holding their breath, waiting for the gym lights to go out.
So they could live easy.
Tick, tock.
When the gym lights finally died, the teachers rose one by one, starting preparations.
Step, step, step, step...
Footsteps approached from down the hall.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Aigoo, why so late? If those shits wake up...”
Click, creak.
Thinking it was the admin Hunting Dogs joining, the vice principal opened the door without suspicion.
“...how were we gonna...?”
But standing there was the utterly unexpected Doksayeon.
'Why the fuck is this bitch here now...'
“F-fuck, the smell...”
Doksayeon pinched her nose at the overpowering stench of beasts wafting out.
She whipped her head toward the Hunting Dog Leader with imperious command.
“What are you waiting for? Drag 'em out.”
Nod.
“Charge!”
Flash, flash.
“Ugh!”
Flashlights blazed, and in an instant, Hunting Dogs stormed the office wielding tools.
Crash, bang.
“Die, you fuckers!”
“...! Fuck, block them—!”
But this time, the dynamic was the complete reverse of days ago.
Thud, thud.
Thud!
“Die. Die! You dog bastards!”
“Agh. Aaagh. Agh!”
Grip.
Drag drag.
“You fucking bitch. Get over here!”
“Aaaaaagh—!”
The Hunting Dogs utterly demolished the teachers... no, the sheep.
“Aaagh! Sorry! Agh!”
“Shut your fucking mouths, shits!”
Thud, thud.
“Aaagh, stop, stooop—!”
“Fuck off, you bastard!”
Thud.
Thud, thud.
Resistance or not, the Dogs didn't care. Resist, and clubs shattered bones. Submit, and feet stomped them flat.
Blood spraying, teeth scattering—par for the course in the violence.
Doksayeon filed her nails, not hiding her irritation.
“Hey. Can you hurry it up? I'm sleepy.”
“Yes ma'am! Hey, drag 'em out!”
“Sir!”
Grip.
Drag drag drag drag.
“Aaaaaagh!”
Having reduced the teachers to ragged messes, the Hunting Dogs heeded Doksayeon's urging, grabbing hair and hauling them to the playground.
Shiver.
Twitch, twitch.
“Eugh... aaagh... aaagh...”
“Guh... ngh... hnggh...”
“Cough... hack...”
Cowering like bugs on the playground dirt, the teachers met the Hunting Dogs' gazes—eyes not human at all.
Hiss.
“Retards.”
“Kya ha, look at 'em~ Dumbass shits.”
Clearly thrilled, like predators eyeing fresh prey.
Under that terrifying glare, the male teacher who'd once relayed messages to the Dogs clung to his lover's feet.
“Hye, Hye-ji!”
Shiver, shiver.
“H-help, help me Hye-ji... It's oppa. Me. O-oppa. Please, save me... I swear, from now on, I'll be good...”
At her lover's desperate plea, the female Hunting Dog pulled the male teacher to his feet.
“Of course, oppa. Gotta help you.”
“Th-thank... thanks. Y-yeah. Only you, Hye-ji...”
“But you know, I've never gotten why you always bossed me around. But...”
Click, handcuffs snapped on his wrists.
“Wh...?”
“So this is what it feels like? Not bad.”
Her gleaming eyes—eyes he'd seen countless times from his lover—now sent chills down his spine in their unfamiliarity.
Step, step, step.
“That all of 'em?”
Cheonun emerged, parting the darkness.
He sat on the chair Jeong Da-jeong had set down and lit a cigarette.
Flick.
Sizzle.
“Fuuu—. What a fucking moonlit night, and here you are ruining my fuck session.”
“...We were wrong, please spare...”
Bang!
Splat.
“Kyaaaaagh!!!”
“Bite.”
Nod.
“Fuck, shut your mouth!”
Smack, smack, smack...
“Ngh... ngh... ngh... ngh......”
Spit.
“Anyone got more to say?”
Shiver shiver, tremble.
“““......”””
“Nothing? Then I can talk now?”
With no livestock daring to speak, he exhaled a long plume of smoke.
“I'm shit at long speeches anyway. Don't wanna do 'em. So don't make me repeat. Listen good first time.”
Sizzle.
Fuuuuh.
“Never thought you were human to begin with, but officially? You're not anymore.”
His words seemed aimed at the teachers, but his eyes swept the Hunting Dogs.
This animal farm game with incompatible temperaments? To drill it into the Dogs.
In the apocalypse, only two types: adapters who seize, and the culled who lose.
“You can't speak freely, think freely, or do shit till we order it. You're just cows or pigs. Plowing fields, scavenging our scraps. Got it? You feel me?”
Bending them with violence and fear is easy.
Maintaining it? A hassle.
'Can't babysit forever if they're running or not.'
World full of Cheonuns would be nice, but he knew reality differed.
Lifetimes of weakness under a soft world don't vanish overnight.
So he chewed those fragile hearts thoroughly—restraining the urge to massacre them repeatedly—serving them this meal before the Dogs.
“Be proud. Way too good for incompetent, shameless, pathetically sick fucks like you.”
The Dogs wouldn't feel conscience pangs anymore.
With what the livestock did to them, they'd do it unprompted. And he'd showered them with carrots for loyalty.
Reasons, needs, feelings—all there.
They'd maintain the system themselves out of loyalty.
“That's it. No questions? Then you agree?”
“......”
Clap.
Cheonun stood, glancing over the livestock.
“Don't recognize any.”
Not from the novel.
None fuckable enough for slavery either.
As he lost interest, his eyes caught the lone handcuffed male teacher by the female Dog.
“Huh? Who's this?”
Swipe.
The man looked pleadingly to the female Dog for explanation.
“Huh?”
She paled at Cheonun's gaze, dropping to her knees.
Thud.
“S-sorry. So sorry. The Leader said we could each... take a slave, so I thought...”
He had promised that.
As loyalty reward: pick a livestock head for personal slave.
More to lose, more loyalty.
Playfully, he said:
“Nah, not mad. Just surprised how quick you jumped on it.”
He glanced at the dark city.
“Plenty hotter meat out there. Too soon to pick, no? Unless you're good with him.”
The female Dog and male teacher exchanged looks.
“...”
“Hye... Hye-ji...?”
Amused by the weird vibe between them, he told the Leader:
“Oh. Tomorrow they go out with too. Play nice.”
“Yes sir!”
As Cheonun headed to the gym, behind him rose raw, deep night sounds:
—Ngh. Ngh.... Ngh…
—What do we do with this one?
—Dunno, strip him bare and hang him on the flagpole first.
—Hey, after you eat, give him to me. Got something to try.
—Hng... hng...
The foundation solidifying.