Chaining the First Slaves as the Outbreak Begins

As soon as we arrived at the kidnapping van, I bound her hands and feet tight with duct tape. Like loading up cargo, I shoved Na-young into the back compartment, then made one more trip to drag A-ram over and load her into the back seat.

"Should've bought a bigger fucking car?" Loading a woman limp ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as a corpse into the back seat wasn't as easy as it sounded. She let out faint groans every time her body bumped against something, but she wouldn't remember it anyway. Even if she did, who gives a shit.

I hopped in and drove straight to Gangwon. The sturdy iron gate at my secret base recognized the vehicle and slid open automatically. Just like that, I'd kidnapped two women without a hitch. Crimes where you don't think about the aftermath were way simpler than I'd imagined. Hell, A-ram had even drunk the wine herself. Maybe dying outright would've been happier for her? Nah—there's that saying about rolling in dog shit but still preferring this life. I'll ask them myself later.

Anyway, their friends and family would get ripped apart by zombies before they could even file a police report. Any survivors would just assume they'd ended up zombie chow if they lost contact.

I hauled Na-young first, assigning her the left room in my shelter. Laid her out spread-eagle on the bed and locked on the iron chains I'd prepared in advance. The handcuffs were soft leather, but the chain linking them was thick solid steel, the kind you'd use on a wild beast. No way she'd break it, no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠matter how hard she struggled. Still, I left her some freedom of movement—or position, maybe that's the better word. The chain was plenty long to let her shift around, but once I wrapped it multiple times around the bedposts, she was plastered flat to the mattress like glue.

Prometheus? That god whose liver got pecked out by an eagle every day? Yeah, that pose reminded me of him. Now Na-young was in for a life where I'd be pecking out her liver, gallbladder, the works. Close enough.

I'd left her secured and headed back to the car, only to find A-ram surprisingly awake already. I'd figured the wine was enough, but maybe because it wasn't injected? Eh, every drug hits different—waking up midway wasn't impossible.

"P-please... spare me..."

Did she chug that drug so boldly figuring it'd end with just a rape? Her face in that unfamiliar car was deliciously twisted. The terror made her skin look entirely different from that bold expression earlier.

"Huh? I'm saving you right now, aren't I?"

Saving her ass. Zombies would be crawling out in a few hours. Way better getting eaten by me than chomped for real out there.

"...Please, spare me... My mom's surgery bills... I have to pay for the surgery."

"Ah... surgery bills? The five million?"

"Yes..."

Sad story. But she was gonna die anyway. If it was someone I knew croaking, my chest might ache for a second. But some total stranger wasting away from illness? Not exactly tugging at the heartstrings.

"Guess Mom's fucked then. Sorry."

Still human enough to apologize flatly before approaching A-ram.

"Don't come!! Stay back, you fucking bastard!!!"

Tears, snot, piss—all her bodily fluids gushing out as she thrashed. Hands and feet taped up tight, she looked just like a cute caterpillar wriggling.

Wriggle wriggle. Even worms squirm when stepped on. A-ram squirmed too. Gonna have to replace the car seats...

...Not like money fixes shit anymore. But she was putting on such a cute show, how could I get mad? I hoisted the wriggling A-ram over my shoulder and carried her into the shelter.

"Now you can live here forever. Lucky you, right?"

"Waaah... Mom... Mommm..."

Crying 'cause she figured her mom would die without surgery? Or just bawling for mom out of instinct?

"Why call for Mom? Scared she'll die?"

"Waaah... Mommm..."

A-ram ignored my question, just kept sobbing her heart out.

...Whatever. She'd answer properly once she cried herself out.

I tossed her roughly onto the bed and fetched the chains.

"Waaah...!"

The second she spotted the iron chains in my hand, she started her cute wriggling act again with renewed vigor. Wriggles. Those massive tits made crawling a bitch, but her best-effort squirms were still adorable.

After leaving her at it for a while, she finally flopped off the bed onto the mattress with a thud. Figured those huge boobs would cushion the fall, but nope—same solid thunk.

"You're cute and all, but gotta chain you up. Got somewhere to be."

Next up: the most dangerous and crucial mission—scoring some guns. Couldn't spend forever toying with A-ram.

Normally I'd cuff the end of the chain and tie it to the bed frame. But the moment I saw those overwhelming tits, my plans shifted. What if I bound them top and bottom? Bet it'd look pretty. Coming back from that grueling mission to that sight? All my fatigue gone in a flash.

Ah, hell, just seeing guns might make me happy enough. But more happiness is always better. Decided to try it—pinned A-ram flat on the bed and looped the chain above and below her tits, securing two lines to the bed. Left the tape on her limbs in case she slipped free somehow. With her chest locked down, she was perfect.

Her massive tits bulged up, compressed by the chains.

"Pretty."

"Fuck you."

Either cried herself out or back to her feisty self. Resigned to her fate already? Her face screamed hard life anyway—probably adapts quick.

"Oppa'll be back~"

I gave her a sweet goodbye, and she hawked a loogie at me. Does she not know men? A pretty girl's spit is a reward... If she meant to piss me off, total failure.

"Thanks~!"

Patted her head affectionately and stepped out.

"Fuck you, die! Die already!!!"

Her rage-filled shriek, near a scream, tickled my ears delightfully. Fun. Fucking hilarious. This is life.

I finished the final checks for stealing guns. Packed bolt cutters to slice chains, plasma cutter as backup if that failed, wrapped duct tape all over my body for any zombies en route. Even prepped a homemade spear by grinding the kitchen knife's back to a sharp point.

Test-stabbed some wood a few times—the tip dug in nicely, so zombies would pierce easy as pie. Wanted to go full cool-guy with a bow, but zero talent for archery. Still stashed one in the storage shed.

All tools loaded in the trunk, weapons safe on the passenger seat. Now it was just time to roll out.

Kept smashing refresh on the portal site's news feed, settling in for the long wait. In my revelation dream, I'd slept through it all, woken up to head to work, and gotten bitten. No exact time given, so wait it was... By the time breaking news hit, the military would deploy. Perfect window to snag weapons. Gangwon was sparse anyway—no crowds out at dawn.

Should be fine. ...If too many zombies, just bail.

The fact I'd soon reunite with the zombies that chomped me in the dream kept nagging, making me uneasy. Legs shaking nonstop. They say shaky legs chase away luck.

Then it hit—the breaking news ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on the portal site.

My phone blew up with safety alerts. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

...In the revelation, why hadn't I even glanced at this alert before heading out? No one to call me? Pathetic—I died like a total moron, even by my own standards.

Should I go? As I turned the key, my phone rang.

...It was So-hyun. Knew she'd bite it eventually. Told her to stockpile rice, so not dying right away.

"What?"

"...Uncle, you see the text?"

"Yeah."

"...What if I die?"

"Dunno. You stocked rice, right?"

"...Delivery hasn't come yet."

"......"

"...Guess Uncle's scared too, huh?"

"Yeah..."

"...Don't die."

Getting pep-talked by a kid not even 20 yet. No way I could save her—not with guns to grab and zombies popping up ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠anywhere now. Every move had to be careful. Surviving solo was hard enough.

"Who you living with?"

"...Alone."

Fuck.

"Parents?"

"...Gone."

Fuck. Fine, Gangwon—I'll come get you. For real.

"Where at?"

"Chuncheon..."