Belated Realization (1)

April Xth. Morning.

"Ah... aah... aaah...!"

Somewhere in the corner of a low-rise apartment, a woman trembled in terror.

"Grrrrr...!"

"W-why... why...!"

Right before her eyes, a creature she had never seen in her life had burst in and was glaring at her with savage intensity.

The woman had always been the cautious type. Just as Jeong Hoon had muttered to himself earlier, she was one of the vanishingly few people who had taken the text message incident of March 17th completely seriously.

She had always leaned hard toward shut-in tendencies anyway, so she used the whole thing as an excuse — stockpiled daily necessities, barricaded herself inside her monthly rental, and simply never came out. Except for trash day, she never set foot outside. She hammered away at her computer and phone, sealing herself off from the world around her.

On March 31st, a voice had thundered in her ears and confirmed once again that the end would arrive on April 1st. Shaking with fear, she had whispered to herself:

"See? See...? What did I tell you... Mom, Dad... what did I say...? Minji... Seonhye... what did I tell you...!"

Sneering at the parents and friends who hadn't listened to her, she withdrew even deeper into her corner. She had already stacked enough food and drinks to survive for well over a month.

Brave Saga Online? True to her shut-in gamer nature, she had played every game under the sun. That one was no exception — and just as promised, a text window had appeared to announce her survival.

Unlike some people, she had even been lucky.

April 1st arrived. Infrastructure collapsed and hell began, yet she remained safe.

Her apartment overflowed with emergency batteries and portable lanterns. The desktop was useless, but the laptop still worked. Tapping out a kind of survival journal, she locked herself inside her own private worldview and let the days of the apocalypse simply drain away.

And then...

CRASH!

"Kyaa!?"

The sudden sound of her front door being smashed to pieces rang out. Someone — something — had broken in. And violently!

The woman, who had been in her bedroom, scrambled onto the bed, wrapped herself in the blanket, and shook violently. She realized almost at once that she had made a terrible mistake — but it was far too late.

"Khuk...!"

It stood a full head taller than an ordinary person.

Its skin was a deep, uniform green. Its face was brutish, two tusks jutting from its lower jaw. The whole body was thick with muscle, the belly slightly protruding.

A woman who had consumed countless games spun her gamer brain into high gear and instantly identified the thing standing before her. The monster the Administrators had promised this world would bring...

In countless games and books, they were called orcs.

"Kruk... woman... take...!"

"A-aaah... KYAAAAAAAH!"

Recoiling in pure horror from the orc charging at her, the woman fainted on the spot.

And just like that, Han Sora was seized by a monster from another world without offering so much as a single moment of resistance.

April 2nd.

Today's agenda was already set.

After pouring a little water into a washbasin and rinsing my face that morning, I looked back and forth between the ceiling and the floor.

Right. Today was the day I made this entire villa safe. I planned to force open every unit and inspect them all. If there were survivors, I'd talk to them too.

"I feel a twinge of conscience..."

Huh? Conscience? Like hell I have any of that. This ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is a lawless age!

This is an era where people sell out their own families to survive! Not that I would, but still!

Anyway... having made up my mind, I filled my stomach the same way as yesterday — a little bottled water and an energy bar. For the time being, like it or not, this was how I was going to live. If I could just get my hands on some butane gas and any equipment that could charge or generate even a little electricity...

First stop was the unit right next door. Room 302. Since they were neighbors, I already knew who lived there.

An elderly couple I estimated to be in their eighties. They had always been quiet, and yesterday they hadn't made a sound either. Survivors in this apocalypse were supposed to be people who had accounts in Brave Saga Online. Which meant these two old folks next door... probably...

Feeling a faint unease, I stood in front of Room 302. But... how was I supposed to get in? My place and every other unit used the same electronic locks. Battery-powered, of course. That was why I could come and go from my own apartment without any trouble.

It was also exactly why barging into other people's homes was a pain. Whether the battery was still alive or already dead, both were problems.

"...I see."

But I had Rogue skills. Carefully, I activated Lockpick from my Rogue skill list.

Click!

Ohho... so that's how it works. Though... if I'd known it would be like this, maybe I should have dumped a few more points into Lockpick? Eh, I'll worry about that once the Rogue class levels up.

Easing the door open just a crack, I carefully activated another Rogue skill as I slipped inside.

There wasn't a more useful skill against zombies than this one. I carefully opened the door the rest of the way, surveyed the room, and understood what had happened within ten seconds.

"Uuuuoooh...!"

"Gruuuuuh...!"

The elderly couple was inside.

Yeah, they definitely still existed. As zombies.

But their positions were bizarre. The grandmother lay underneath, the grandfather sprawled on top of her in a pouncing posture, and a clothes rack had toppled over both of them.

I could roughly picture it. The grandfather had suddenly turned and bitten the grandmother; she had collapsed, and he and that rack had gone down with her in a tangled heap.

"...May you maintain your fine bond even in heaven."

My mouth moved on its own. This time, though, the murmur carried my genuine feelings.

I squeezed my eyes shut once, then drew the European army knife from my pocket. Slowly, I approached the two elderly zombies collapsed on the floor.

More than guilt, what I felt in that moment was pure bitterness. In any case, the mood was bad enough that I decided to leave everything in the room alone. A fishing rod that looked like the grandfather's briefly caught my eye, but I couldn't imagine a proper place to fish anytime ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠soon, so I let it go.

Leaving the bitterness behind, I headed up to the fourth floor. First I opened Room 403 and went in. Lockpick cracked it open with almost ridiculous ease. I was starting to get the hang of these electronic locks...

And... nothing. Room 403 was completely empty. What the hell? There was genuinely nothing, and the barrenness left me feeling hollow as I stepped back outside. Sensing something off, I picked the lock on Room 402 and went in.

"Hmm...?"

Empty here too? Well, not completely empty... more like most of the belongings had been packed up and taken, leaving only the bulky furniture behind. The place was a bit of a mess. No people.

Ah... both households had evacuated. I remembered Room 402 clearly — a couple and their young daughter had lived there. They must have taken that message and voice on March 31st very seriously and fled the villa in a hurry. Judging by the disarray, they hadn't been gone long.

I checked whether any of the leftover bulky items might be useful... not really. I decided to head up to the fifth floor and check elsewhere.

The door to Room 503 opened as easily as the others. But the massive piece of furniture that greeted me the moment it swung open made my eyes go round.

"Hm...?"

"Wh-what the hell is this, you bastard!"

As if answering my question, a man's voice barked from the other side of the barricade. It was startlingly loud, yet my body stayed surprisingly calm. A moment later the man appeared over the barricade — hostility written all over his face, a golf club gripped in both hands.

"You thieving little shit! Get the hell out of here! How dare you open someone else's door and walk in! Get out right now!"

"...My apologies."

I had zero interest in fighting a bloodshot middle-aged man waving a golf club at me. Still, I was surprised.

A survivor. There was actually one in this villa. And a guy who looked to be in his fifties, no less. Did he have a game account too?

Curiosity stirred, but I had no desire to escalate the conflict, so I carefully closed the door. Naturally I abandoned any thought of searching Room 502 as well. No point making a racket and poking the hornet's nest that was Room 503.

What happened to the guy who was just thinking about lawless ages and all that? Beats me!

I went down to the second floor. I remembered the second floor clearly. In Room 203 lived a guy around my age.

Amazingly, that bastard was also unemployed. You'd think that would create some sense of camaraderie, but we never got close. I just didn't feel like socializing with another depressed loser stuck in the same situation. A woman lived in Room 202. Both of them lived alone, but I'd never heard anything about them interacting.

Anyway, I picked the lock and walked right in again. The second I stepped inside, though, the smell of blood hit me and I reflexively activated a Rogue skill.

Step by careful step, I moved deeper into the apartment — and then I saw it.

A victim lay on the floor. A woman. The woman who had lived in Room 202. And standing over her in a slack posture was a man. More precisely, a zombie.

This piece of shit... I don't know the details of what happened, but he must have used the chaos of the apocalypse to call the woman from next door over, only to turn into a zombie himself and completely wreck everything.

Serves him right. Ptooey! Though I did feel bad for the woman...

I was still deciding what to do about it when something unexpected happened.

"Uuuuoooh...!"

"...!?"

Suddenly the male zombie charged. Surprisingly, not at me.

Straight at the closed window leading to the veranda!

What happened next? Exactly what you'd expect!

CRASH!

The glass shattered... huh? It actually broke? Zombies are that strong?

And that wasn't the end of it. The male zombie tumbled straight down from the second floor. Not a deliberate leap — more like he simply toppled over the edge and fell.

I could tell what effect that produced from the noise alone.

"KYAAAAAAH! Wh-what the hell!"

A scream rang out from outside the villa. A woman's voice. Holy shit... how was I supposed to not look? I sprinted to the veranda. After offering a brief silent prayer for the woman's corpse sprawled on the floor, I took in the scene outside.

"Gruuuuoooh...!"

"N-nooo! Get away from meee!"

A woman who looked like a survivor was fleeing from the male zombie closing in on her. Obviously the same one that had just fallen. What, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠did he keep his pre-death personality even after turning? How the hell did he smell a woman and start moving?

...I considered helping, but before I could even decide, the survivor had already bolted into an alley. The problem was that this wasn't the end of the misfortune.

Grrrrr, bark! Bark!

"Eek! Hiiiiiik! S-save meee!"

That was the last of the noise. Because of one zombie that had suddenly dropped in front of her, the survivor girl lost her life on only the second day. Truly a pity...

"Gruuuuoooh..."

And I was about to feel pity myself — because the woman's corpse that had been lying dead on the floor started to move. Goddamn it...!

I tossed the dispatched zombie outside. When she had still been human, I'd felt pity and unease — but the moment I registered her as a zombie, my body moved on its own. Fuck... of all the timing, she had to turn while I was standing right here.

Looking at the second-floor apartment, its veranda window smashed and the place in total chaos, I sank into thought. This wrecked interior... I felt like a good idea was about to surface.

"That's it... if I use this place...!"

The villa's first floor had a glass door, which meant it was basically no more secure than this shattered window. In other words, the entrance was dangerously exposed. Building a barricade to seal it off would make passage difficult and leave me isolated — a real downside.

But what if I went up and down through this wrecked second floor? The first floor had no livable space, and this villa didn't even have a semi-basement. That meant the height difference between the second floor and the ground wasn't that great. Factoring in my Strength and Agility stats... it might just be possible.

At any rate, while mulling over how to make use of Room 203, I thoroughly ransacked the place.

This bastard had every reason to lure the woman next door. He'd stockpiled a solid amount of daily necessities. And he must have loved baseball. A baseball bat, baseballs... even a batter's helmet and a catcher's helmet? A real hardcore baseball fanatic. Or rather, a baseball otaku.

"I'll take this... and this... stack it downstairs... nice!"

Humming to myself, I went back and forth between the second and third floors. Room 203's supplies were far more generous than any other unit. With this much, you could hole up inside for well over a month. Best of all, this bastard had butane gas. Hell yeah! Fire! I can eat something warm!

Once I'd finished moving the supplies into my nest, I immediately set about building a barricade on the first floor. I mostly used the furniture from Room 202, hauling down a few pieces from the fourth floor as well.

Strength 17 and Agility 17 were no joke. I'd stacked things roughly, but even if zombies swarmed, they wouldn't easily shove their way up through this. The entrance was narrow, after all.

With everything done, I was about to head straight back into my nest... and then I stopped.

"Room 503..."

That arrogant middle-aged guy... if my memory was right, he had a family just like the people in Room 402. Still, it pissed me off. A person can open a door and walk in once in a while — what's with the death threats!

No. I needed to say one thing to him before I could feel better.

Thud.

"Please accept this as a token of my apology..."

Clomp, clomp... creak! Thud!

...I did not feel better.

Like a machine, I stripped, washed with water, changed clothes, and used the butane gas I'd acquired to bubble up a single pack of ramyeon.

I slotted in the portable ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠battery I'd taken from Room 203 and turned on my phone.

7:30 p.m. Hauling supplies had burned through an enormous amount of time. And after moving so much stuff, I was thoroughly exhausted.

I brushed my teeth in the bathroom and lay down on the bed.

Amazingly, I sank straight into sleep.

April 3rd, morning.

The moment I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, I understood.

My behavior yesterday had been strange to a degree that set off every alarm for dissonance.

Why had I left daily necessities in front of that middle-aged guy's door, recited an apology, and come back down? Hadn't I gone there to chew him out?

"Because it was the right thing to do."

...H-huh? Just now — my mouth just ran on its own, right? And it said something about the right thing, didn't it?

Fuck?