April 1st (2)

But that last option—FAQ—I couldn't even begin to guess what that menu was supposed to be.

FAQ. Frequently Asked Questions.

Plenty of online games kept a menu like that under their notices or customer support, so the meaning itself was clear enough. It was a collection of questions users asked all the time while using a service, paired with the answers.

Which was exactly why I couldn't make sense of it. The bastards who'd unleashed a worldwide apocalypse had put together an FAQ menu? For what possible reason?

...Don't tell me they actually wrote down hints on how to survive more easily?

Well, the menu wasn't labeled "strategy guide" or anything, but—it was still an FAQ, right? If it were me, I'd have asked the critical questions about survival methods and how the system worked!

Before even checking my own status, I picked the third option, driven by pure curiosity.

Huh? Wait... do I physically press it? Or do I have to shout "number three"?

I tried moving my hand and laying it against the system window floating in midair. Specifically on 3. <FAQ>.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

The screen flicked and changed. Ah, so that was it! You switched windows like this!

When a thoroughly familiar bulletin-board-style FAQ appeared before my eyes, I nearly cheered.

And then I despaired.

Question 1. How long will the end of the world last?

Question 2. Can I become a zombie too?

Question 3. I don't like the power I was given! Can you change it?

Question 4. Is the Administrator handsome?

.

.

.

.

...You son of a bitch Administrator!!

"What manner of heaven-defying farce is this?!"

This was supposed to be an FAQ?

An FAQ is something you put together to answer the questions and frustrations people actually run into while using a game or a service!

And what was this? How long does the apocalypse go on? Can I become a zombie too? And at the end they had the gall to list this as an FAQ question?

Question 10. I want to become an Administrator too. How do I become one?

Who the hell on this entire planet would want to ask something like that?!

Everyone was busy trying to survive the disaster staring them in the face!

Administrator, you absolute piece of shit! If you were standing in front of me right now I'd beat you to death on the spot. Get out here, you bastard!

"Heaven-outraging scum, the lot of you!"

...Huh? The way my words have been coming out of my mouth this whole time feels... off somehow.

Must be my imagination.

Anyway, I'd satisfied my curiosity about the FAQ in the most thoroughly unsatisfying way possible, so now it was time to actually look at my status.

My heart pounded. I remembered it clearly.

I hadn't played Brave Saga Online, so the Administrator had promised to grant me the stats of a character from another game entirely—the classic RPG Dragon Gate RPG. I hadn't forgotten that.

Shouting "System On" had confirmed that something had definitely been granted to me. So all that remained was...

"Just what miracle has taken root within this body...!"

Carefully, I laid my hand on the first item in the system window: <Your Stats>.

And pressed it.

Shuk!

Status window—up!

But... what was this? A bug? Three classes had popped up. Why were three classes showing all at once...?

"Ah...!"

Aaaah—aaaaaaaah!

For a second I nearly screamed out loud and clamped a hand over my mouth just in time.

Instead I murmured, very quietly:

"Past me... you absolute legend."

April 1st, 12:04 p.m.

Creeeeak...

I carefully pushed open the thick glass front door and slipped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out of the villa. The fact that it was still intact and unbroken was a minor miracle in itself. Come to think of it, I hadn't seen a single zombie or heard a single zombie groan on the way down... Did our building just not have any? Or was everyone still a survivor?

I'd figure that out later.

Step by careful step.

My shoes were a quiet material, and my clothes were layered so a bite wouldn't punch through easily. Keeping low, I edged along the wall and entered the alley of our neighborhood.

"Ghwooooorr..."

"Ghuuuuurr..."

The moment I stepped out, zombies came into view, shambling around and making noise like they were announcing their presence. I nearly jumped clean out of my skin on the spot.

Whew. Composure. Composure...

Thank god. Thank every god that I'd done the deep breathing and the self-hypnosis and every other ridiculous thing before coming out here.

In my hands I gripped a makeshift short spear—a cleaning broom handle with a kitchen knife lashed firmly to the end—and crept forward, trying to slip past them. Body low, half-crawling.

...Please. Just work.

Praying, I closed in on the zombies.

"Ghuuuuuurr...!"

"Uwoooorr...!"

Ugh—the horrific stench layered on top of the horrific sounds.

They were pure, undiluted disgust. Rotting skin tones with pus and blood running freely, some with the flesh peeled back to bare the meat underneath—a sight that made you want to vomit on principle.

And I was walking right past those zombies with absolute confidence (which is to say, hunched extremely low and basically crawling).

Why?

Well, why else.

That was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠why.

It wasn't as effective as triggering it at night or in a dark place, but lowering my presence and muffling my footsteps enough to slip past enemies with dulled awareness—that much, it could handle.

This excellent Rogue skill, and... the half-insane guts rattling around in my chest. What else would it be?

If it worked properly, great. And if it didn't...

"Grrrrnnngh...!"

Ah, shit!

The second I thought it'd be fine even if it doesn't work—!

A zombie dog started growling at me, drool hanging in strings, barking with pure menace. I'd already slipped past the two human zombies, but I still glanced that way just to be sure.

"Ghuuuuurr..."

"Uoooorr...!"

Whew. Those ones really did have dulled perception. Focusing only on smell and hearing, maybe?

But the dog in front of me was different.

Well, I'd half expected that. Because—

—its level was a little high.

"Bark! Bark!"

With a whip of motion, that devil of a zombie mutt lunged straight at me.

The old me probably would have gone "AAAAAGH!" and fallen backward, then gotten his throat torn out by those teeth and died screaming. Just like that woman who'd become prey a little while ago.

But the me of right now was different.

"Not a chance...!"

With the barest grunt of effort, I drove the short spear in my hands straight forward.

Aimed with absolute precision—right at the roof of the mouth of the zombie dog charging in to chew me apart.

I was certain I would hit.

Shunk!

"KYAAANG!"

The short spear I'd thrust forward (a kitchen knife tied to a broom handle, if we're being honest) punched through the charging zombie dog's palate and drove clean out the top of its skull.

Ugh—blood sprayed out the other side in a violent burst. The zombie dog died instantly, still skewered on the shaft.

The status window had shown it. Dead.

This thing didn't lie. At least it didn't lie...

"Hoo..."

After sending one zombie dog to the afterlife, I quickly checked behind me.

Oh—still no movement at all. So my counterattack just now had been treated as a Rogue's ambush. Perception debuff was built in by default, huh.

And a Warrior's weapon proficiency was genuinely incredible... Even a weapon that was a short spear in name only had settled into my hands this fast, letting me stab exactly where I wanted.

First successful hunt, and first EXP to go with it.

I'd been a little tense because it was level 3, but from my perspective it was still a trash mob I could handle. What a relief. Really—only my system was different from everyone else's...

No. This still wasn't the moment to relax. I hadn't reached my destination or accomplished my goal yet.

For tomorrow, and for all the long days still ahead... I had to move fast and secure daily necessities. Cutting down the zombies that noticed me one by one, just like this.

I turned a corner and followed the map burned into my head.

Ugh. It was still manageable for now, but the number of zombies shambling around was steadily climbing. If I stepped out onto a bigger street, I had a feeling the whole city would just be packed wall-to-wall with them.

At least the convenience store I was heading for sat at the end of an alley... If it had been on a main road... I got chills just thinking about it.

Alright. Round this corner and... that little convenience store should come into view, right?

There it was!

"Ghuuuuurr...!"

"Ghwooooorr...!"

"Krrruuuuuh...!"

Yeah. The zombies were in view too. God damn it!

"Looks like a frontal breakthrough is in order."

I steeled myself even as I sighed.

It was fine. Just killing that level 3 zombie dog meant taking out the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠zombies in front of me would be nothing. If they all rushed me at once I might die, sure—but if I used the Rogue skill carefully and picked them off one at a time, I'd be fine.

I was level 1 too, but... I'd already figured out firsthand just how massive the gap was between my level and theirs.

Carefully, I approached the nearest zombie. Soft steps. I positioned myself where I could see the back of its head. This time, instead of the short spear, I drew another weapon from inside my clothes.

A European army knife.

A friend had brought it back from a trip abroad. I'd sharpened the blade as much as I could before heading out.

In ordinary times it would have been something you'd get reported for just carrying—but right now, everything was different.

I flicked the knife open and carefully brought it to the base of the thing's neck.

Shunk!

"Gh—uoooorr..."

Just as expected. The zombie never even registered me before crumpling.

After driving the blade cleanly into its neck, I put my weight into it and twisted, snapping the spine like I was tearing it free.

Ugh, the smell was fucking revolting! But I absolutely could not show it on my face. Absolutely not...!

"May you rest in peace..."

No, damn it! I wasn't supposed to make noise! This mouth of mine had a mind of its own!

I realized it too late—the remaining two zombies had heard my voice.

"Krk?"

"Kwoooorr...!"

Ah, shit!

I cursed inwardly and took up the short spear again.

The two zombies charged at me—not fast, but not slow either.

Are you kidding me?! Zombie-movie zombies are ridiculously slow, but these ones just move at a normal pace? Where the hell is the balance team. This game is trash!

"I shall grant you peaceful passage...!"

Whether I was swearing a blue streak on the inside or not, my body moved with total honesty. Gripping the short spear firmly, I aimed dead-on at a zombie's head. Warrior spear proficiency—do your job!

Thuk!

It did!

It landed cleanly, and the short spear—well, the kitchen knife—buried itself in the skull. But... ah, damn it! It wouldn't come free! So a kitchen knife and a cleaning broom mashup had its limits after all...!

"Kraaaaagh...!"

And it wasn't even an instant kill! With its head still skewered, it flailed its arms trying to grab me and tear me apart. Meanwhile the free one—let's call it Zombie Two—closed in fast.

"Not a chance!"

Crack!

Just because both arms were occupied didn't mean a Warrior was helpless, did it?

I drove a kick straight into the zombie's jaw. A sharp crack rang out and Zombie Two's head snapped clean backward. Neck broken for sure. Perfect. Strength stat doing exactly what it was supposed to!

This time I put power into my arms and yanked. The zombie with the hole in its head lurched toward me. Into its gut, I—

Thud!

—drove another kick, same as before. No—I planted my foot and shoved.

At the same time, I hauled back hard with both arms. The two opposing forces produced a single result: the zombie's head tore free of its body.

Crrrk-crack! Fwoosh!

Ugh...! Fuck!

Blood exploded outward again. It was a miracle barely any of it hit me.

EXP acquired!

But... the experience from all three kills came in at once.

Was it the kind of system that settled accounts after combat ended? That was going to be a pain.

Meaning, for example, even if you killed multiple enemies mid-fight, as long as enemies were still left and you were in danger... a dramatic "level up from the EXP of the ones you already killed!" moment was completely off the table?

Ah, wait—this wasn't the moment to figure out how the system worked.

I wrenched the zombie's head off the short spear and flung it aside (the awful texture and smell nearly made me throw up), then stepped into the convenience store.

"First... three bottles of water, and some simple food."

I prioritized low-bulk convenience foods and bottled water.

Lunch boxes? Sure, you could eat them, but if you grabbed one past its expiration date and ended up with a stomach bug, it'd be a nightmare. Better to stick to simple stuff in a situation like this. I only had the one bag anyway.

And... a few packs of wet wipes. I tore one open, scrubbed myself down roughly, and tossed it wherever. Ugh, zombie fluids and blood... absolutely disgusting. Seriously...

"May you leave this wretched world behind and find happiness in heaven..."

And I wanted to rip this mouth of mine clean off for spouting nonsense on its own. Damn it!

Cursing only on the inside, I packed the bag full of daily necessities.

What I needed was simple enough that it didn't take long. No—it couldn't take long. I'd just killed three zombies and left traces; other ones might catch the scent and come swarming any second.

I slung the stuffed bag over my shoulder and stepped back out of the convenience store. Still, I felt a twinge of regret. Some butane canisters would have been nice.