The First Pandemic
“The president abandoned the country!”
“Fuck, it's the end! Let's all die together!”
“Your country's done for! Now Namdaemunpa rules this turf.”
Ordinary citizens turning into looters happened in the blink of an eye. Glass windows shattered, stores went up in flames. Homes that had stood fine moments before crumbled in an instant. A father trying to protect his family fell to a knife swung by a neighbor he'd never even met. A banker desperately fleeing to his hometown crossed paths with thugs and met a gruesome end. There were no police or military to stop it.
“All the guns in storage are gone! We can't hold back the gangs like this...!”
“Forget it. Just tell everyone to clock out.”
“Chief!”
“The president's fled, the military's collapsed. How the hell are we supposed to fix this? Lock 'em all up?”
All firearms and explosives humanity possessed had vanished. No one could see a way out of this mess.
“Hey, let's desert too.”
“Isn't the army the safest place right now?”
“You still trust the Ministry of Defense?”
“……”
The young men drafted into the military after hearing the world was ending weren't about to sit tight. Back in the day, officers might've screamed them into line. But now even the brass weren't showing up for work—they'd bolted. The world had already lost the capacity to restrain criminals. Or rather, everyone was in a position where they had to fend for themselves.
Word was, in Haiti, furious crowds had grabbed gang members and burned them alive. It wasn't just looting—crimes of all kinds were erupting nonstop.
“Manager Kim, you piece of shit! Think you're hot stuff? Die, you bastard!”
The section chief infamous for abusing his power got his skull smashed with a hammer.
“What? Breaking up and living separately? Fuck you, you think I'm a pushover?”
The sweet boyfriend snapped, locking up his girlfriend as she tried to flee.
“You got money, right? Get out here, asshole! Pay our wages! Sell your damn house if you have to! You wanna die?!”
The owner of the shitty small company—who'd skipped employee paychecks for three months to buy a foreign luxury car—shook in his office, pissing himself.
Sitting still meant death anyway. That realization pulled the trigger, unleashing all the pent-up rage. In a nation where everyone was stuffed full of fury, it was more than enough to burn the whole country down.
“Hmm, about like this.”
I watched the whole spectacle from the comfort of my bunker. Tragic, sure, but what could anyone do? Things had spiraled beyond what any individual could handle. I'd done my part, but it all got dismissed as bullshit and I just got flak for it. Honestly, it felt more like someone else's problem now.
“Huuuuh~”
Lunch was a freshly boiled pack of Jinmae ramen with a raw egg cracked in. Add a crunchy bite of kimchi, and it beat the White House kitchen. Nah, seriously—the food there was too salty and greasy anyway.
“Slurrrrp!”
I slurped the noodles while checking the community boards. Online forums had this mystical vibe: even as the world went to hell, people kept posting like crazy. If anything, the activity had exploded compared to before.
People trembling in fear and just wanting to share. Folks hunting for any survival tips. Others trying to group up for numbers. The posts painted a clear picture of what was going down in Korea right now.
Most were cursing the president and politicians who'd fled first. But could they really survive on Jeju Island? I doubted it.
Depends on prep, but anywhere's dangerous.
Jeju wasn't a bad pick, though. Biggest island in Korea. Zombies and monsters spawn proportional to population, so relatively safer. From Jeju's view, suddenly becoming the capital was a win. But Last Day wasn't that forgiving.
I'd just finished my ramen and was lost in thought when a new post popped up.
The vibe in the community tanked visibly at this bombshell. Zombies screamed apocalypse all on their own. Symbol of a ruined world. No guns, broken military—everyone figured they couldn't stop it. The world was truly over. Zombies made it real.
Zombie debut definitely hammered home the end times. Especially since they weren't human. Fear of the unknown outstripped even armed looters. Personally, I figured humans were deadlier, but whatever.
The comments nailed the crisis spot-on, even if a bit funny. Zombies target crowds, supermarkets. Fed ones get stronger. And humanity has zilch for weapons. Individuals aren't weak per se, but how many unprepared folks could fight?
Still, too early to panic this hard.
Real monsters and beasts incoming. Zombie virus blanketing the planet. These were just the opener. Fear drops survival odds.
Perfect timing—Paddak buttered me up and unblocked. As a vet, I decided to ease the freakout. Time to drop knowledge.
I tossed it up casually. Big ripple.
Notifications exploded like never before. But no time to check—the net cut out right after I posted.
“It's starting.”
Phones, radios—everything dead. No more world comms.
I sighed and stepped out of the bunker. Blue meteors streaked the night sky. They'd slam key facilities, wrecking society. Chinese drug labs too—the zombie virus from there would blanket Earth. Jeju'd get hammered hard, president's spot or not. Seoul might be the lucky one? Nah, zombies in that squeeze? Same hell.
“Doesn't matter now.”
Apocalypse ain't human-fixable. Could've prepped better, sure. But wisdom ain't human nature.
Like Ahab snagged by rope chasing Moby Dick—human rage and greed know no end.
“...Pretty though. Devs put work in.”
The meteors were gorgeous, unlike the grim end. For Earth, maybe a welcome tumor-cut. Likely my last beautiful sight.
I snapped it with a disposable camera.
“Welcome to Earth.”
People die. Tomorrow, beyond. But not me.