Nutrient Deficiency Is a Terrifying Danger
Nutrient deficiency is a terrifying danger. Just look at one of my role models—the pirates. Didn't they die from scurvy because of vitamin C deficiency? In other words, with nothing left but rice and kimchi, the crisis of death is staring us right in the face. We have no choice but to go out and pillage. Our essential survival supplies have run out.
As I slung a large bag over my shoulder, hid various weapons all over my body, and prepared to head into the streets, the other two members finished arming themselves and returned.
"Let's start with the house of a former believer who lives nearby."
A target selected after comparing several days' worth of the access roster. A former believer who had slipped away midway.
"Right. That kind of bastard deserves whatever he gets. How dare he distrust the Pastor and turn his back on him? A traitor, plain and simple."
"Exactly. This is righteous revenge."
Park Yanggun and I shamelessly rationalized it between ourselves. It was a form of mental armor. The kind that kept our bodies from stiffening with tension and our hands from growing soft with guilt.
"No..."
Jeon Dohyeong let out a hollow laugh and started to say something, but immediately clamped his mouth shut.
I pointed the hammer at him.
"You take the lead."
"Me? Is this because I laughed?"
No. I'm not that petty. There were perfectly rational reasons.
"You've been going out a lot. You must know the safe routes, right?"
While I had holed up in the villa like a martial artist in closed-door training, never taking a single step outside, Jeon Dohyeong and Park Yanggun were different. I had often sensed them opening the door and leaving. Jeon Dohyeong was probably sneaking off to see Na Yeji, and Park Yanggun simply couldn't resist stealing. Either way, these guys had been walking around the zombie-infested streets just fine. There was no reason to ignore that expertise.
Jeon Dohyeong looked wronged and pointed at Park Yanggun.
"But Elder Park also—"
"I didn't go far, you idiot. I was just practicing climbing gas pipes on the surrounding buildings."
Aha. So it was theft practice. Whether he had really only practiced or not, I nodded.
"Then, Elder Park, please watch our escape route from the rear. I'll stay in the center and prepare to fight."
With our formation set, we stepped out into the streets. The streets where zombies roamed.
There were quite a few zombies out. Some wandered in groups of two or three, clutching weapons as they searched for food. A few had dark, dried blood caked around their mouths from eating raw flesh.
Jeon Dohyeong skillfully avoided their line of sight, weaving through alleys. Sometimes he would slip into a nearby building entrance and wait for them to pass. Other times he climbed through a broken window and exited through another on the opposite side. He was never chased even once.
"As expected of an electricity thief."
I let out a low whistle of admiration. It was the keen sense of a man who had stolen national electricity for a long time without ever getting caught.
At the genuine praise, Jeon Dohyeong looked embarrassed. The skin around his eyes flushed faintly red.
"What does being an electricity thief have to do with this?"
His voice was thick with suppressed emotion. He couldn't raise it out here. Afraid of luring zombies. It was an apocalypse where you couldn't even honestly rejoice at a compliment.
In that manner, we circled through the streets and finally reached the public housing of our target former believer.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Brother, are you home? It's the Hope Church."
I stepped forward as representative and pounded on the front door. It was fine to be a little loud. We were on a high floor of the public housing, so there was no risk of drawing zombies.
I kept my voice kind and gentle.
"We've come from the church to share food with the brothers and sisters. It's just a simple donation, so please don't worry."
There was a clear presence beyond the cold door. Definitely a person. No zombie groans, just the rustling movements of a human. They had approached the door warily and were hesitating.
Park Yanggun chimed in beside me.
"It's just evangelism. Churches are short on people these days. If you don't want to talk, you can just take the stuff."
"..."
After a brief silence, the door opened a crack. The safety chain was still latched at the top. Through the narrow gap, a man with heavy dark circles showed only part of his face. A young man wearing a mask. His complexion was poor from frequent starvation, his cheeks so sunken that his cheekbones jutted out sharply.
As expected. His wariness is considerable, fitting for a traitor to the faith.
He studied the three of us and spoke in a hoarse voice.
"Show me the food first."
"Ah, of course."
I promptly displayed the bait. To hook a person, bait is obviously necessary.
The former believer swallowed hard when he saw the two side-dish containers filled with kimchi and rice. He spoke quickly, almost stammering.
"Leave it—leave it in front of the door."
Then, slam. The door shut. Beep beep. The electronic lock engaged.
We glanced at each other. I scratched my head.
Well, it was a harsh world where a name alone wouldn't get the door opened anymore. Especially when the person on the other side was a vicious human who had turned his back on the Pastor.
"Can't be helped."
I had tried to be a benevolent visitor. Since that failed, I had no choice but to become a robber. After all, there isn't only one way to catch a fish. You can spear one too.
"Move."
Park Yanggun stepped forward. Jeon Dohyeong and I quickly made room. Park Yanggun pulled out a string, something like flour, and a flashlight.
"Four-digit password? This is doable. People usually use birthdays or something, so it's easy to guess."
After checking the smudged fingerprint spots, he began pressing numbers with glee. Beep beep beep beep. Beep beep beep beep. The lock kept chiming.
A terrified voice came from beyond the entrance.
"What—what are you doing!"
"We've come to deliver hope. Accept it with an open heart."
"I don't need the rice, just leave! Hey!"
Click. The door lock opened.
Park Yanggun worked his hands excitedly. He threaded the string through the gap in the door and hooked it onto the safety chain. Naturally, screams close to shrieks erupted from the other side.
"You—you bastards! If you come in, I'll kill you!"
At the same time came crashing sounds and desperate struggling. It sounded exactly like someone with their mouth covered, thrashing wildly.
"Mmph! Mmph! Mmmph!"
...What? Had they tied up a zombie in there?
Anyway, it worked in our favor. The former believer beyond the door was delayed dealing with whatever was struggling, and in that time Park Yanggun opened the door beautifully.
The door burst open. Bright sunlight poured in. The former believer staggered backward, kitchen knife in hand. The muffled noises continued from behind him.
I grinned.
"Hello? We're robbers. Put the knife down."
"You... you..."
Even while staggering, his body remained crouched like a cat ready to pounce, the kitchen knife regripped tightly. We filled the narrow entryway, trampling the house with our shoes, and each drew our weapons. I especially pulled out my pistol.
Click.
My courage, and the opponent's anger-management medicine.
The opponent's face cycled through several expressions in seconds before both hands shot up like he was surrendering.
"I'm a robber too. We're in the same line of work. Please, show some professional courtesy."
The stuttering had vanished; his words were now perfectly calm.
Then, from the door behind him, a woman rolled out onto the floor. Her mouth was taped shut, wrists and ankles bound with string. She writhed like a worm.
"Mmph! Mmph!"
I blinked, processing the situation.
I see. That wasn't a man's name after all.
The woman was the real former believer. The man with the kitchen knife was the robber.
"I was so hungry I thought I'd really starve to death, so I committed a crime. Couldn't you just pretend you didn't see anything and move on?"
The robber drooped his eyes pitifully. His voice was desperate. Of course, he still held the kitchen knife.
"Uncle Do Sanggun. Throw the robber some string."
"Sure thing, Kim Daram."
We casually tossed out the fake names. The commotion had been rather loud. Neighbors might be listening. We needed to hide our traces as much as possible.
Thud. The thrown string. The robber looked down at it.
"What's this for..."
"Tie your wrists or thumbs. Or at least your ankles. We'll untie you after we're done."
"I'm just a guy trying to survive. If you overlook this, I'll keep my mouth shut and quietly disap—"
Click. I aimed the gun while holding the hammer in my other hand.
The robber read the room and set the kitchen knife down. It was close range. He was probably planning to cut the string the moment he saw an opening. But that wasn't going to happen. He wouldn't get the chance to cut it, and he wouldn't even be tied up in the first place.
The instant the robber bent to pick up the string—
Whoosh. I brought the hammer down. With a proper twist of the wrist, it slammed into the back of his head. The robber collapsed on the spot.
"Pretending to be dead won't work on me."
I crouched and swung the hammer several more times, caving in the back of his skull. You couldn't let your guard down just because someone fell. After all, he was a pillager who had adapted to the apocalypse. You must never underestimate them. Every living human had the same survival career as me.
After finishing the confirmation kill and standing up, I saw the members doing their jobs. Park Yanggun was opening the refrigerator. Jeon Dohyeong was reaching out to peel the tape off the bound woman's mouth.
I was horrified. Why would he free the mouth of someone we were going to kill?
"What are you doing? Stop!"
"Huh? I... Ah. Ah."
Jeon Dohyeong squeezed his eyes shut and withdrew his hand regretfully. Did he actually want to hear a dying person's painful screams? That was a bit much.
I pointed at the former believer's eyes. She seemed to recognize Elder Park Yanggun—probably from attending services. We had to keep this person's mouth shut. Permanently.
"Mmph! Mmph!"
I slowly raised the hammer. The eyes that had shone with hope when she saw us darkened. After a dull thud, she died in silence.
I wiped the blood off the hammer using her clothes and stood.
"Any food?"
"Not much. But there are some retort pouches. They've got ramen soup packets saved up too."
Retort foods that were ready after a quick heating—curries, black bean noodles, that sort of thing. Long shelf life, decent taste. I nodded in satisfaction.
"It's a shame there's no fruit or meat, but this is good enough."
"Fresh food is basically impossible to get now. Even if you found some, it'd all be spoiled anyway."
The consequence of severed logistics. The city produced nothing on its own.
We emptied the fridge—side dishes, retorts, tuna cans, coffee mix, cheese still within its expiration date—into our bags and slowly made our way back to the villa.
Going outside is dangerous. It means that once you step out, you should reap as much as possible before returning. We hit a few more houses and raided a pharmacy as well. Or rather, it was closer to scavenging than outright pillaging. The pharmacy had collapsed early on.
"As expected for a first-floor shop..."
Pharmacies tend to be on the ground floor. Naturally, that makes them the most vulnerable to zombie attacks. Of course, no one touches them anymore since there's nothing to eat, but a pharmacy without its pharmacist becomes a prime target for people.
We looked around the devastated pharmacy.
"Masks and disinfectants are already completely cleaned out."
"Any self-diagnosis kits left?"
"Doesn't look like it."
Self-diagnosis kits had only been supplied in tiny quantities to begin with, and buying one required recording your personal details and mandatory government reporting. Since looting let you use them without any of that hassle, they had been top-priority targets.
We settled for grabbing every remaining nutritional supplement we could find. The bag was heavy, but my heart felt light. The world seemed to shine with hope.
The zombies strolling the streets, the sight of dozens of people venturing out in groups, humans and zombies warily eyeing each other and giving one another a wide berth—everything felt good.
But that pleasant feeling plummeted off a cliff in an instant.
"You there. Stop."
Police hiding by the roadside. Two officers in bulletproof vests with pistols already drawn. Their eyes gleamed strangely as they approached us.
"Suspicious. Very suspicious. What's in the bags?"
"Just food..."
Jeon Dohyeong glanced around nervously. We were all subtly startled. Because we were criminals ourselves.
One officer kept watch behind them while the one who approached us pointed his pistol. A voice laced with amusement rang out.
"Food? Legally purchased goods, I assume? I doubt it. So, shall we head to the station? Or..."
Poke. The gun prodded the bag. A not-so-subtle demand to share while he was still asking nicely.
I immediately smiled in a friendly manner. Police robbing robbers. Officers who had changed for various reasons—citizens attacking them for their weapons, an occupational environment that left them vulnerable to viral infection from fighting zombies on the front lines, drastically reduced numbers after many turned, a world where even anti-corruption regulations had grown faint. They could become friends with criminals.
"Officer, seeing you out here day and night, clearly suffering from nutrient deficiency... it truly pains my heart."
Police turning into a gang? I welcomed it.