Jeong Da-jeong, the Apocalypse Accomplice

The hammer on the floor, the zombies pounding at the door, and Jeong Da-jeong blubbering pathetically in front of it. Finally, the firmly shut front door. I could piece together the rough situation.

Hmm. Good thing I won't have to go hunting for her family.

It deviated from the original plan, but the big picture was similar enough—all the cards I needed were in my hand.

Splat.

"Ugh...!"

I kicked Jeong Da-jeong, who was blocking the door, out of the way and flung it open.

Bang.

"Grraaah—!"

"Gak! Gak! Gakaaak!"

Zombies resembling Da-jeong lunged at me from right in front. Normally, I'd have headhunted them one by one, but...

Annoying not to kill them.

Instead, I shoved my arm into their mouths.

Chomp, chomp.

"Glurk—grraaah."

The zombies, all focused on gnawing through my thick motorcycle suit, didn't notice as I suddenly flexed with full power and shoved them back.

Crash.

They tumbled across the living room floor. Without pause, I swung my blade and sliced off the leg of the nearest one—probably Da-jeong's dad zombie.

Splat—blood sprayed as the blade sank in, and Jeong Da-jeong's scream echoed through the room.

"Nooooo—!"

"Grraaah—!"

"Sir, please wait just 30 seconds for your cut—!"

Crash. Thud. Click.

I shoved the rising mom zombie and whichever sibling—brother or whatever—into the bathroom one after another and slammed the door shut.

Now I finally had a workspace. Time to get back to it.

Splat. Splat. Snip.

"Nooooo—!"

I finished severing the half-cut leg on the dad zombie, and Da-jeong came ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rushing at me in horror.

"It's fine."

Thud.

"Kyaaak...!"

Thump. Crash.

She flew from my kick, slammed into the wall, and rolled across the floor amid the TV and debris.

I ignored her and resumed work.

"...!"

Splat. Splat.

"No... don't... don't do it...!"

Splat.

I cleaved through the remaining leg down to the bone. Punched the clinging Da-jeong away...

Shlick—slash. Shlick—slash. Crackle.

...and sawed off both arms like a lumberjack.

Writhing, writhing.

"Grraaah. Gruuuraaah."

And with that, the dad zombie ver. quadruple amputee was complete.

"Mm. Okay. This one's set."

I rummaged through the house, found tape and ropes, then...

Scrape, scrape.

Tighten.

"Aghk...!"

...tied the groaning Da-jeong on the floor firmly to a chair.

Riiiip.

"Hey. Hey. Stay still."

I taped her face so she couldn't look away, finished the setup, then drew my dagger, squatted in front of the zombie, and looked at her.

"Shall we start?"

"W-what...?"

"What else? Your dad's disassembly show."

Belly, chest, eyes... I pondered where to start, then decided bottom to top.

Stab.

I shoved the blade into its groin, and she wailed as fragile and pitiful as ever.

"Nooooo—!"

I kept working.

Stab, stab. Shlick-shlick-shlick.

Never thought I'd end up handling a zombie dick as a guy, zombie or not. Damn, one screw-up slave and the hassle never ends.

Rip.

Dangle, dangle.

"Look. It's your daddy's. Haven't seen it since bathhouse days as a kid, huh?"

"Ugh... uuuek...!"

Splat.

Her own dad's thing dangling in front of her. The chunks of flesh clinging disgustingly were bad enough, but the thick stench of blood made her finally puke her guts out.

"Hey, kid. Come on. Your father's feelings are hurt."

"Uek... ugh... hng... hngh..."

Okay, enough of that. Next...

As I brought the blade back to the zombie, she screamed hysterically.

"Don't... don't do iiiit!"

Snicker.

"Why shouldn't I?"

Stab.

"Aaaaah—!"

She shrieked like she'd been stabbed herself. Whatever. I kept carving the zombie.

Squelch, squelch, squelch... Ears. Eyes, nose... As chunks of zombie flesh piled on the floor, her screams grew weaker and weaker.

"Nooooo!"

"Don't, please. Stop it!"

"Don't... please... don't... do it..."

Crack. Crack.

"Ha—. So noisy. What exactly shouldn't I keep doing?"

Jeong Da-jeong begged hoarsely through her tears, voice ragged and pathetic.

Drip, trickle.

"Please... d-don't... hurt my family... please."

"Ha...?"

Something popped in my head, and I burst out laughing like the world was ending.

"Ahahahahahahaha—!"

Ah, seriously. I'm gonna cry.

"Family? You said family, right?"

I knew her head was full of flowers, but this much? Her patheticness was too much to bear.

"Where's your family, then?"

"Grraaah."

"Ah—. You don't mean you're calling these zombie shits family, right?"

I poked the zombie's head with my blade, and she freaked out, yelling.

"They're not zombies!"

"Then what are they? Tell me. If they're not zombies, what the hell are they!?"

Stab. Stab. Stab. Crackle.

"If corpses move, they're zombies!"

I mercilessly gutted the zombie's belly, and she sobbed endlessly.

"No... they're not dead... just, just...!"

Crack. Snap.

"Just... temporarily... in pain..."

"Huh?"

"...The doctors... at the hospital... will treat them...!"

Trickle.

"Everyone... will get better... ugh...!"

"Bullshit."

"Agh... aaaah—!"

I grabbed her hair, unable to hold back anymore, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and dragged her to the balcony.

"Look, okay? Come on, look."

Helicopter crashed into the building, apartments charred black by fire. Roads jammed solid with unmoving cars...

"Look!"

A ruined city where, even through teary eyes, the only things moving were zombies.

"The city's like this, and you're talking hospitals? Doctors? Or what, did robot doctors get invented while I wasn't looking?"

"...They'll come."

"Huh?"

"Soldiers... will come... bring doctors, fix Dad... Mom, brother too...!"

Zap.

"And scum murderers like you... all thrown in prison...!"

She glared murderously, eyes brimming with tears.

"...No, for psychos like you... prison's too good. Just... just shoot you all—!"

Seeing that made me feel my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠own abnormality anew.

I'm going nuts.

Her neck veins bulging as she glared—it looked so damn delicious.

"Ha—. Hahaha—! Good. Real good. But hey, by your logic, you've killed plenty of zombies already."

Wonder what flavor this'll be.

"Doesn't that make you a murderer too?"

"N-no... I... you made me... they attacked me... self-defense..."

Tsk. Not ripe yet.

"Ha—. Yeah?"

Twitch.

She trembled as I moved, but I wasn't aiming at her—the zombie.

Stab. Spurt. Crackle. Squish. Slice-slice.

I shoved the dripping zombie heart—Dad's, from her view—right ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in her face.

"What's this?"

"...!"

She squeezed her eyes shut instead of answering, and irritation boiled up.

I chucked the heart out the window and spun her chair around.

"Listen up? Humans, see, die without a heart. But whoops, what's this?"

"Grk—grraaah."

Click, smack. Smack.

"Fuck, it didn't die!?"

"Hik...!"

"So one of two things. Either humans can live without hearts. Or this ain't human. But no matter how I think, the first one's bullshit, right?"

"No... no... Dad's... not dead yet... he'll... go back... to normal..."

"Fine. Say that's possible. Aliens tortured or whatever, whip up a cure, make new hearts, soldiers and genius docs save everyone."

Ah, shouldn't laugh, but it keeps coming.

"Me, a murderer? Criminal? Psycho scum all killed off, back to normal. But hey..."

I skewered the zombie's head with my blade.

"Not anymore!?"

"Ah..."

Her eyes unfocused, pupils dilating. I could feel her mind crumbling beyond them.

But not yet. Not quite.

Bang.

"Grk?"

"Grraaah—!"

I flung open the door and slaughtered the two zombies—Mom and brother, her remaining family.

"Ah...?"

Slice off necks, smash heads. Stab brains, hammer hilts in with fists till they sank fully.

"How ya fix this? They're really dead now!?"

That thrilling handfeel, her crumbling mind—I grabbed her face and laughed.

"Right! Exactly!"

Lick.

"Even if the world goes back to normal, you got nowhere to return. You're all alone now. Well..."

Her flowing tears were so sweet.

"It won't go back anyway!!?"

Real lucky, that.

"You know. You know damn well. You're just too scared, too terrified to face the truth, too unwilling to admit it."

"Ah... no... I'm..."

Her melting expression. Confirmed: Jeong Da-jeong's mental fully shattered.

Time to fill that void with me.

Pat, pat.

"It's okay. It's okay. Yeah, yeah. Really okay."

"Ah... th-that... I... I'm..."

"It's okay. All okay. No need to be scared. No need to fear..."

Stroke, stroke.

I sincerely stroked her head and whispered.

"No need to face it."

Right in her ear, drilling it so not a drop escaped.

"I'll face it for you. 'Cause this world looks so beautiful to me."

Not in the novel, but my guess on awakening conditions: First, kill something. Zombie or human.

Already cleared that.

Second: Acknowledge the apocalypse. Admit the world's ended. And how to live in it. Not just think or say—but desperately, truly, deeply wish it from your heart. Like me right now.

"So you don't need to look. I'll look at everything, all of it. For life. As long as the old world... no!"

Mistake. That boring, shitty old world wasn't fit to compare to this heavenly one.

And I wanted her to feel it too.

"I'll make it a world so awesome, you won't even remember the old one."

"Am... awesome... world...?"

"Yeah. Awesome world. Do whatever you want. Never do what you don't. Forever, till you're sick of it. Do as you please."

Squeeze, squeeze.

"Ah... hngut..."

"If you're lonely, I'll make you tons of family. No more loneliness. You won't be alone. I'll always be by your side."

Sincere. Well, precisely, her by my side forever—but together's together, right?

"So say it. From the depths of your heart. Truly."

Finally, into her emptied heart from losing the world, I inserted mine.

"I'll carry your burdens for life."

Jeong Da-jeong parroted blankly.

"For life... your..."

...burdens.

With those words, her gaze hung in empty air.

I already knew the slave system from the novel. No need to think—I nodded.

Text asking to designate the slave brand's form and position appeared, but I put it off.

Something more urgent first.

"Daring to splash me?"

Twitch.

Terror crept into her vacant eyes.

"We'll check it later when we get back?"

"Ah-ah, m-mercy... you weren't...?"

"When did I say that."

I won't kill her. Hell, after all this for a free inventory.

But...

"I'll make you beg for death."

Just thinking it made my pants strain like they might burst.