Central Library (2)

The one-time exclusive skill Sanctuary Declaration had vanished, and Liquid of Subordination had taken its place.

So basically, my saliva and cum are now roughly equivalent to pig-in-heat spray?

Holy shit!

The moment that thought landed, I wanted to level it up immediately. How much Faith did I have again?

I sank two hundred of the freshly replenished points straight into the skill's level.

Well, I could always test the effects on Yoon Ayoung.

When I reached the women's restroom, faint sobbing drifted out from within.

If I'd been in Yoon Ayoung's shoes, I probably would have gone out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of my mind. She'd done nothing more than faint and wake up — and yet the world had turned upside down, and people were treating her like a walking pathogen. And for a woman, especially a young woman, someone whose entire sense of self hung on her relationships with other people, this would be hell stacked on hell — the second coming of absolute hell.

Tap, tap.

At the sound of my footsteps echoing through the restroom, Yoon Ayoung's trembling shoulders went rigid. When she cautiously lifted her face, it was already streaked with tears.

I walked to the sink with a perfectly composed expression and turned the faucet. Whether it was the water shutoff or something else, not a single drop came out.

"Th-this is… th-the w-women's restroom…"

It was the first time I'd heard Yoon Ayoung's voice at any length.

She kept stealing glances at me, whimpering like a frightened puppy. Without answering, I turned the faucet back off and cast Deficiency Perception on her.

What she needed right now wasn't a white knight on horseback so much as anyone at all. I deliberately made a show of flopping down onto the seat beside her. She flinched as if startled, and her body shifted a little further from mine.

But she didn't move any farther than that.

"……"

After that, neither of us said a word, and I simply stared at the restroom wall. Yoon Ayoung, who had been fidgeting and glancing my way, lowered her head again. A strange silence stretched between us for a long while.

"…If you stay here, you might get infected too."

"……"

I didn't answer. What Yoon Ayoung needed right now wasn't conversation — it was someone who would believe her story.

"They say I'm a 'pre-infected.' All I did was black out for a moment in the bathroom… that's really all it was."

The words were getting wetter as she went on. I put on the softest, gentlest voice I could manage.

"The way I heard it, you didn't say 'pre-infected' — you said you were an Awakened."

"…I guess I was going crazy."

She raised her head and stared at something in the empty air. I knew at once that she was looking at her own status window.

"I really don't know what anything is anymore…"

Her eyes were hollow — empty of both will and hope. Watching her like that, I could feel the blood slowly pooling in my cock.

I could have forced her right now, and there wouldn't have been a single problem. She'd have taken me without even a flicker of resistance. But what I wanted right now wasn't a cum receptacle ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠— it was a devoted fanatic who'd die for my words. Naturally, that included offering her body to me with passion.

"There are zombies everywhere. What's so unbelievable about being Awakened on top of that?"

"…What?"

"If anything, being able to truly sense danger — isn't that an amazing ability?"

For the first time in that long, long while, her eyes met mine. She could see my face reflected in those quivering pupils of hers.

"Ayoung, you have absolutely no reason to sit in a place like this like some kind of criminal."

"Y-you believe me?"

"Of course. Naturally."

The flashlight I pulled from my inventory began orbiting around me. And the moment Yoon Ayoung witnessed that sight, her eyes went wide enough to tear.

"We're the same kind of being, you see."

"Ah— aahhh!"

"Shh!"

Yoon Ayoung, who had been stammering incoherently, clapped a hand over her own mouth in shock.

Religious organizations don't waste their time gathering for assemblies ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and prayer for nothing. When believers gather in one place, it plants a sense of kinship — ah, someone else is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just like me. Instilling that shared identity was one of the most crucial stages of proselytizing. And on top of that, the two of us were now sharing the very same secret.

I didn't need to see it to know that something was quietly, steadily taking root inside her — something shaped like me.

Now, on to the next step.

"We can talk about the rest tonight."

The digital clock beside the minimap read four in the afternoon. Kang San's mealtime had crept up on us without my noticing. I deliberately left the door open for more conversation and stepped out of the women's restroom, heading down to the third floor — and the hesitant Yoon Ayoung began trailing after me like a duckling.

By the time we reached the third floor, the murmur of easy chatter was already spilling out through the door. The moment it opened, the long table came into view, laid out with cans of tuna and convenience-store kimbap. That, apparently, was the day's ration.

Kang San, who'd been talking with Seo Taesan, turned toward us.

"Hyung! I was just about to come get you — perfect timing."

"I should've helped with something. Now I just feel guilty."

"Nah, nah, you just got here — of course you need time to settle in. Come sit. Oh — Ayoung, you too, take a seat."

I moved to the far end of the table and sat, and Yoon Ayoung cautiously claimed the spot beside me. Kang San sat at the center of the table with Seo Taesan and Gaeul on either side of him; right next to Gaeul sat the librarian Kim Eunbyeol, with Lee Gyeongmin and Kim Cheolsu following behind them.

When Lee Gyeongmin saw me arrive with Yoon Ayoung in tow, his jaw dropped in open horror. He was staring at me with the expression of a man whose trusted ally had just betrayed him. Kim Cheolsu, who hadn't had the chance to troll me into a proper conversation at our first meeting, glared at me like I was something stuck to his shoe.

Is that bastard insane?

I wanted to gouge his eyes out on the spot, but I held it in for the greater good. I still — still — needed to seep into this camp.

The chatter at the head of the table died down, and Seong Gaeul's voice carried over.

"It's gonna ruin your appetite to hear this before you eat, but listen up. We're down to almost no food. If we ration hard, we've got about a week. So if I catch anyone sneaking a can of tuna on night watch, you're a dead man. Got it, Kim Cheolsu?"

"…Why is it always me? I'm not the only one who—"

Seong Gaeul brushed off Kim Cheolsu's grumbling with the ease of long practice, and her eyes swung toward us.

"Anyway — San, what are we doing with her?"

"Haah…"

"One of the main reasons we went out today was to verify that woman's nonsense, wasn't it? So it's time to hand down a verdict."

At Seong Gaeul's cold question, Yoon Ayoung's whole body started shivering again.

"I also agree with Gaeul-noona. 'Pre-infected' need to be expelled from the library as soon as possible."

"For once, I agree with the dimwit. There's no reason to take a dangerous gamble."

With Lee Gyeongmin and Kim Eunbyeol chiming in, Kang San's face clouded over with anguish.

"No, hyung, this is seriously not okay. The first time I went out with her, a mutant came flying at us out of nowhere! If something like that happens inside the library, we're all finished!"

"…Gyeongmin, the fact remains that Ayoung did sense the danger."

"No! God, this is so frustrating! She didn't sense the danger — she brought the danger!"

Seo Taesan, who would normally have reined in Lee Gyeongmin's runaway mouth, stayed silent this time and simply listened. He, too, apparently saw no reason to shoulder the risk.

From the very start, the seesaw had been tilted hard to one side. The only reason the group's opinion hadn't unified was that the leader sat on the other end.

"It's possible Ayoung really is Awakened, you know. If so, we'd be throwing away a valuable asset."

"Oh, come on. There wasn't a single word about her being Awakened anywhere online. Where's this coming from?"

"The internet's been down for three days already. Ayoung woke up only yesterday. What's floating around online isn't the whole story."

"No — by your logic, hyung, she'd be a superhero! Then why couldn't she kill one zombie? Why's she shaking like a leaf? Look at her right now!"

To that question, Kang San had no answer. He wasn't arguing from hard evidence either — he simply balked at effectively sentencing a trembling young woman to death. And that feeling was worth nothing when it came to persuading the group.

Under the table, I quietly took Yoon Ayoung's hand.

Her trembling body flinched even harder. With my fingers laced through hers, I stroked her hand gently with my thumb.

Wow… her skin is so soft and springy.

In any other lifetime, that move would've earned me a slap across the face — but Yoon Ayoung offered no retaliation, only quietly held on. It was a somewhat unsettling gesture, yes, but to her it was silent encouragement, the only cheering section she had left.

Raising my other hand, I began to voice the opposition.

"Hmm — what if we just keep observing her a little longer?"

"Why would we need to?"

Seong Gaeul, who'd been quiet as if she'd delegated all opinion-making to Lee Gyeongmin, snapped back at me instantly.

Feisty little thing, isn't she.

I pointed at the whiteboard directly behind Kang San. On it were the hours from six in the evening to six the next morning, and beside them, each group member's name written once.

"Those times and names over there. Isn't that the night watch roster?"

In places where electricity has died, night falls fast. Twelve hours of unbroken darkness, from six in the evening to six the next morning. The bare minimum of preparation against that darkness was the night watch. Zombies didn't take weekends off, after all — the watch had to stand every single day. Back when there was no me and no Yoon Ayoung, six people had to cover those twelve hours. Waking up every two hours, night after night, to stand guard — that had to feel like absolute hell. It would wreck anyone's condition, no question.

So, in the end, the conclusion was simple: these people needed more hands. To survive the night — and to hold onto the strength for scavenging runs afterward.

"Food aside — and I'm sorry to say this — we're desperately short of people. What I mean is, Ayoung is a valuable asset to us as well. Besides, I had the chance to talk with her for a while, and she is not the dangerous person Gyeongmin and Gaeul are making her out to be. If any problem arises, I'll take full responsibility."

"A person's life is not something you deflect with the word 'responsibility.' Especially when it's trust in someone you met today."

She clearly meant to settle this today, one way or another. This was an era where, without a shred of proof, the mere possibility of a threat was enough to decide whether someone lived or died.

Of course, I wasn't about to let it end with me just calling Seong Gaeul and Lee Gyeongmin idiots. The twenty-first century had, for all its history, been the age of science — the age of evidence and logic. But the emergence of zombies, something science could not prove, had dealt modern minds a staggering blow. When corpses rise and devour the living, what good is science now? People's defense mechanisms kicked into overdrive. The logic was simple: dispose of it first, before what if becomes I knew it.

"Like I said — give us time to build that trust. Ayoung included. Like a combat buddy, I'll stay by her side constantly. Starting with tonight's watch — we'll take it together. What do you think, Kang San?"

I deliberately handed the deciding vote to the group's leader. Seong Gaeul, who'd been wetting her lips as if about to say something, glanced at Kang San and quietly closed her mouth. That's right — even you know that jumping in now would undermine the leader's authority.

After a stretch of deliberation, Kang San nodded.

"All right. If we keep throwing people out over every little reason, it won't end well for any of us either. Ah — we've been so serious my stomach's growling again. Let's eat first, quickly."

By cracking open a can of tuna, Kang San declared that no further objections would be entertained. Good. You really are too soft-hearted for your own good.

And so, Yoon Ayoung's fate was decided — pending.