The Neighbor's Secret
To me, the word "neighbor" feels both distant and close.
Before I became a shut-in game addict. Back when I still held some faint hope for humanity. Even then, I didn't have any particularly close neighbors.
If I had to pick, maybe the kind of awkward relationship where we'd bump into each other in the elevator by chance and head to the psychiatry department side by side?
I doubt I'm the only one in Korea with relationships like that. Not knowing who lives next door—their identity, face, or even gender. That's the society we've lived in up until now.
Let alone in this destroyed world? No need to even mention it.
Who knows if that friendly neighbor might be hiding a kitchen knife behind their back.
In that sense, meeting "her" was, in a way, nothing short of a miracle.
After the destruction began, I went out more often than before.
Sometimes I'd go fishing, lost in memories of the vanished old man.
Other times, I'd check if the body of that nurse's father, abandoned in a ruined building, was still there today.
But the biggest reason was scouting, of course.
You never know when, where, or who might show up.
Frankly, I think everything in life boils down to luck in the end.
Someone studies their ass off for four years, only for the apocalypse to hit and screw them over.
Someone else wastes away playing games like a loser, and then that game becomes reality, letting them thrive.
Though that loser happens to be pretty damn smart, capable, and handsome, but whatever.
Does luck just fall into your lap if you sit there with your mouth open?
Nah, not really.
From experience, luck is fruit that only the prepared can pluck.
Especially now that society's collapsed.
To seize the luck called "survival," thorough preparation was essential.
Scouting like this to gather intel was part of that.
No one knows what dangers are coming—not even a veteran like me.
You can never be too cautious.
Plus, it's a nice break from the stuffy bunker to get some fresh air.
Anyway, as I was patrolling the area, I suddenly heard footsteps in the distance.
I ducked into cover on reflex.
Luckily, they didn't spot me.
I peered out from a safe distance.
There was just one woman.
20s? No, late teens?
Her face still had that youthful innocence.
She stood out against the ruined street like she didn't belong.
Black straight hair down to her waist.
She wore a school skirt, a white hoodie on top, and a white cap on her head.
Even at a glance, she was stunningly beautiful.
Not quite on my noona's level, but close.
But the most striking thing was her weapon.
A sword... huh.
Not some crude kitchen knife, either.
It was flashy red, sure, but definitely a proper longsword made for combat.
Something you rarely see in the modern world.
And totally out of place for a young girl like her.
Wonder where she got her hands on that.
...Looks usable.
I didn't have any swords in my arsenal.
Just spears, axes, knives, crossbows.
Wasn't impossible to find one, but I'd prioritized other stuff.
Axes suit me better anyway.
Axe or sword for zombies? Like asking a kid if they prefer dad or mom.
Even a vet like me couldn't decide easily.
If I had to choose, I leaned toward axes.
Anyway, what to do?
If she was just passing through, I'd ignore her.
But this was close to my bunker.
What if she lived nearby?
Even normal-world neighbors were a hassle.
In this world, they were just potential threats.
I pondered.
"Hmm."
The woman was staring intently at a fallen zombie, deep in thought.
She still hadn't spotted me.
At this range, I could take her out easy.
That'd probably boost my survival odds.
I toyed with my axe for a moment.
"..."
Then let go.
Killing's simple.
But it might wear down something inside me even more.
I hadn't crossed that line yet.
The triangular line everyone has.
Long-term, it'd hasten my death.
Rational choice.
Head back?
Not sure where she lived anyway.
Might just be passing through.
That's when I started to stand.
"This safe to eat? Won't make me sick, right?"
"Hell no, idiot."
"!"
Damn it.
I'd spoken without thinking.
But come on—eating a zombie?
That shocked even a vet like me.
My throat still remembered the dry chew of boxed sandwiches.
I sighed and stepped out.
"Eat that, and you'll get infected right away. Your guts twist up, and boom—zombie."
"...Who are you?"
She was on guard now, ready to draw her sword any second.
She'd survived on skill, not luck.
"If you're hungry, hunt something. Fish, animals, bugs if you have to. There's plenty now that humans are scarce."
Just lecturing would've made me some nagging old fart.
I tossed her a chocolate bar.
She caught it mid-air effortlessly.
Good reflexes.
"I'm Siwoo. You?"
"...Han Ga-eul."
She was still wary, clutching the bar without opening it, just staring at me.
"It's fine. Eat up."
"..."
I sheathed my axe and plopped down right in front of her.
Like feeding churu to a stray cat.
Now she looked flustered.
"Saw a kid looking half-starved and figured I'd say something. No harm intended, relax."
"I'm an adult."
"College student?"
"Uh, yeah... sure."
"Prime eating age. Want another?"
Ga-eul hesitated, then nodded.
This time, I held it out instead of tossing.
She crept forward cautiously and took it.
Less cat, more chipmunk.
She backed off a bit, peeled the wrapper.
Joy lit her eyes; hunger watered her mouth.
She couldn't hold back and shoved it in.
"Mmmmmm~~~!"
Bliss spread across her face, pure and childlike.
She devoured it in seconds.
"Whew. Thank you."
She bowed politely.
I couldn't help but chuckle.
I like polite kids.
"Haven't eaten properly in a while."
"Where you live?"
"That building over there."
Not far from my bunker.
Not next door, but neighbor-apartment close.
"Was wandering, saw it looked decent, so I settled. You live around here too, mister?"
"Not mister."
"...You totally are."
"Same age as you pretty much. Call me oppa."
"Eww, no. Creeps me out."
This girl?
Might make her puke up that chocolate.
"Anyway, thanks. I'll repay the favor when I get the chance."
"Whatever. I live nearby too, so just don't make noise."
"Might get a little loud at night sometimes..."
"Doing what?"
Ga-eul just grinned sheepishly at my question.
That's when our neighborly chat was interrupted.
"Kraaaah!"
A few zombies shuffled out from the side.
Familiar faces.
Late today.
I left them there on purpose.
Zombies are easy to wipe, sure.
Call 'em mosquito repellent for people.
These days, prime real estate isn't Gangnam or near stations.
It's zombie-free zones.
Zombies deter people.
Threat to me too, but also my totem.
Of course.
"Hold on."
In other words, settling here meant...
Zombies were no threat to her.
-Shing!
She drew the sword propped nearby.
It swung smoothly.
Zombie legs severed clean.
"Kraaaah!"
Legless, they flailed.
Zombies keep moving even without legs.
This girl.
Deliberately spared the necks.
Not bad.
I had to cull them periodically anyway.
If she handles it, that's useful.
Teach her to leave some later.
"Finish 'em off? Points for you."
"Nah."
"Why? I wanna repay you."
"Not that hungry. Chocolate's paid by that slick swordplay."
She pouted a bit.
Then sliced their necks.
Clean work, even on second look.
My neighbor's a pro.
Unlocked a Trait, huh.
Human necks are tough.
Slicing like cake? Not normal strength.
Definitely a swordsmanship Trait.
Now I noticed the blood splatter on her clothes and face.
"Next time you need zombies cleared, call me. I'm good at fighting."
"Sure, count on you then."
I smirked.
Good at fighting? Extra hands never hurt.
Whether I trust her or not is secondary.
"Here, neighbor gift."
I tossed her a can from my pack.
Her eyes went wide.
"...Peaches?"
"Girls like sweet stuff, right?"
"...I only do Ttakboki."
"Gimme back then, punk."
"Hehe, kidding. Thanks, I'll enjoy it."
So the meeting with my new neighbor ended on a warm note.
...Or it could've.
If it had, I wouldn't be writing this.
Wonder what happened today.
As usual, I logged into Maelmang Gallery.
It was buzzing with posts: life laments, companion recruitments, missing family searches, last wills.
Amid the chaos, one post stood out with massive upvotes.
"..."
Striking looks and figure.
Peach cans.
Ttakboki stan.
For a split second, as admin, I was tempted to check this user's info.
But I held back.
That was basic courtesy to my new neighbor.
Tastes are sacred; everyone deserves respect.