Please Kill My Mom

I check the Maelmang Gallery pretty often. Not much else to do. I've got stacks of comics and novels piled up, and I squeeze in workouts and patrols here and there, but there's still ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time left over.

No ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠internet, huh. It really hits you how blessed we were. One click and the whole world opened up. Old gamer habits die hard. I was still curious about how the world's spinning.

Not that there's a ton of posts here. Comments outnumber posts anyway—writing one costs points. Even when things heat up, it's just the same old bait circling around.

I was scrolling through the gallery in mild boredom when one post caught my eye.

It had that perfect mystery novel hook—drawing you right in. Views were sky-high, as expected. Curiosity got the better of me, and I clicked.

Put my zombified mom to rest... Made total sense. Zombies have no reason left. They just shamble around, rotting on the streets. Dead corpses, plain and simple. But from a family member's view? Unbearable. You'd want to end it mercifully. Totally get it.

But that wasn't what piqued my interest.

Guess it's ghoul season already.

The monster in the photo the woman posted? Definitely a ghoul. Big, brutal bastard. Trickier than regular zombies. Not for newbies.

A ghoul would make fine hunting. Tough prey, but worth it. Especially wanted to test a real-world one—see what it's really like.

Decision made, I left a secret comment on the post.

No reply came, but I didn't care. Just a courtesy note. Wasn't expecting one anyway.

...Should've looked into it more. That thought crossed my mind briefly.

I headed to the address from the post. Empty street, thanks to zombies. Some woman sat on a bench.

"Ah."

She spotted me and jumped up. I was a guy with an axe, so I figured she'd run.

Instead, she came ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠right over.

"You're from the Gallery, right?"

"...I'm a person."

"Oh, s-sorry! You're the one who commented, yeah?"

"...OP?"

"Yes! Thank you so much for coming."

She bowed deeply. Awkward. I came to kill monsters, not meet people. Full asocial mode activated—and now low charisma was tanking harder.

"...It's dangerous."

"Huh?"

"What if I'm a bad guy? Why wait?"

"But you saw my post and came."

She beamed innocently.

"I had nothing to offer, just a plea. Gotta show some sincerity at least."

Couldn't help but squint. Classic good Samaritan. Always putting others first, eating the loss.

"Not worth risking your life. Don't do it again. Lightning won't strike twice."

"Got it. Lesson learned."

Doubt she'd listen. Not the type to back down from her principles.

"You sure you're okay? That monster looked insanely strong."

"Came 'cause I think I can handle it. Don't worry. If I die, it's my arrogance."

"E-even if you succeed, I have nothing to give... I'm so sorry."

She bowed again, sheepish.

"...Nurse."

"Pardon?"

"You're a nurse, right?"

"No, just a nurse aide... H-how'd you know? Did I mention it?"

Her eyes went wide.

"Clean hands, disinfectant smell. In this world? Obvious."

"Whoa, that noticeable?"

She sniffed her sleeve. Probably hard to notice yourself—too familiar if you're in the job. I could because I'm not.

"Anyway, medical connections in this apocalypse? Priceless."

"Huh... Never thought of it that way."

"Keep it in mind. One word about being a nurse, and supplies will flood in."

Chatting too much. My job here was simple.

"Mind guiding me?"

"Y-yeah! Sure! I'm Imi-hye. Nice to meet you."

"Siwoo."

We walked side by side.

A nurse. Offhand comment, but a valuable contact if it stuck. All for offing a zombified mom. So very this world.

Imi-hye led me to an open lot. I stopped her at a safe spot.

"Stay here."

"Huh? We're not there yet."

"This is fine."

I could already see it. Binoculars confirmed: huge monster in the square. Ghoul, for sure.

Just the one? Probably the local boss. Zombies sparse—no encirclement risk. Doable.

"Ghoul and zombies together."

"Ghoul...?"

"That's what we call that thing."

"Oh, already got a name."

Old-timer knowledge, of course. No need to explain.

"Mom's among the zombies?"

"Y-yeah. She wanders near that... ghoul."

Zombie trait: stick near strong ones. Won't stray far. Lucky break—normals would've wandered off.

"Better if Mom comes back intact, right?"

"Of course, but no need to push..."

I turned without answering. If doing it, do it right. My style. Plus, zombie or not—a daughter's mom. Treat with respect if possible.

Head exploding in front of her daughter? Too cruel. Bad for Imi-hye's mental too. Survivors gotta survive. Healthy as possible.

"Heading out. Stay put."

"Really going alone?"

"Yeah."

Axe in hand, I charged. Ghoul spotted me, turned. Faster reaction than zombies. Smarter too, probably.

"Grraaahhh!"

Straight at me—bear-sized, not human. Big usually means slow? Not here. Mass makes steps fast. Momentum equals power. Arm swung full force.

Hm, this much? No frontal clash. Sidestepped easy. Same patterns I knew. Seen 'em hundreds of times. Reality? Still predictable.

"Graaaah!"

Miss leads to stomp. Fast—newbies dodge fail. But I knew. Dove in instead.

This angle—no hit risk. Perfect stance. Aimed vital.

Game? Multi-hits needed.

But this is real. Strong or big—head off, dead.

Axe uppercut to jaw.

-Splat!

Jaw split, face cracked. Blood gushed. Ghoul spasmed postmortem—then

-Thud!

Crashed down.

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

"Easier than the game."

Fifth one down already. Lower difficulty than back then. Took forever per ghoul in-game.

"Now for these."

Zombies charging. No fear in 'em. Straight at the ghoul-slayer like nothing happened.

"Graaaah!"

Dropped them one by one. Then a middle-aged female zombie lunged. Obvious—Imi-hye's mom.

Zombies keep moving till the head's wrecked. Minimal damage? One way.

"Rest easy."

Axe struck neck clean.

"Thank you so much."

Imi-hye bowed politely. Brought head and body together. Covered with cloth just in case. She insisted on checking.

"...She'll rest easy in heaven now, right?"

I stayed silent. Clinging to corpses is for the living. Dead don't care. But her sentiment? Spot on, I figured. Family's precious. Pain of loss? I knew it too well.

"Thank you. She worked so hard raising me. Wanted to bury her proper."

"...Rough home life?"

Got emotional—slipped with a nosy question.

"Yeah, Dad was trash. Drunk daily, beatings, no money—just gambling demands. Cut ties early."

"Ah..."

"Messaged the Gallery once—told him to fuck off. No reply since. Dead somewhere, I guess."

"..."

I pondered. Nurse. Daughter. Trash dad. Abuse. Cut ties. Gallery message. Death.

Puzzle pieces clicked. Abandoned corpse in the ruined building.

Hm.

Korea really is small.