The 3rd Shelter
Even a village chief has to have something going for him. All the more so in an apocalypse racing toward total collapse — if you want to run a shelter, you need at least one thing, brains or brawn.
So what the hell were these two-bit thugs standing in front of me?
The bastard who'd run Eclipse had been a proper gang boss before the world ended, hadn't he? I'd snapped his neck myself, but the man could fight. These ones, though? Forget fighting skill — they didn't even look like they could lead a pack of dogs.
"What? You wanna come into the shelter? Huh?"
Three of them had shown up, and one already had his eyes stuck somewhere they didn't belong.
"…Ohh? F-fine. Ahem. Very well. All good — but as you know, this is a world crawling with zombies, yeah? So we'll need to check you for any wounds."
Wounds?
These idiots had watched too many movies. Sure, a zombie bite turns you into one — but there's no incubation period, no waiting around. You transform on the spot. The movie plot where some latent survivor tears a shelter apart from the inside simply doesn't exist.
When they said they wanted to check for wounds, they weren't talking about me. They meant Mao Mei.
"…Don't talk nonsense. We haven't been bitten. And if you get bitten, you turn immediately — so what wounds are you looking for?"
"Ehh, looks like you don't know much. If the wound's real tiny, it can happen. It can."
My fist clenched before I knew it. I had no intention of playing along with trash like this. If it came to it, I'd just cut off whoever claimed to be the shelter leader and toss his head to Hound. Done.
A tug.
Mao Mei caught my sleeve. Her round eyes looked up at me. I knew what she meant.
"…D-Dad? M-maybe a woman could check the girl for wounds instead?"
Fine. I'd do it their way for now. Blowing these clowns away later would be easy enough.
"…Very well. But a woman does the inspection. That's non-negotiable."
They snickered at that.
"Ah? Oh no. What now? All the women in the shelter are out working the farm right now. Don't you worry, though. Looks like you're the father, yeah? We won't lay a finger on your little girl."
They cackled. I was going to cut them down.
The instant my hand went to my sword—
A tight grip.
Mao Mei held my clothes fast.
"…I-it's okay."
No. It was not okay. I might let everything else slide, but I protect my own. That was the one creed I still had.
"…Xiao Mao?"
"Ah? Y-yes?"
"No father in this world would ever allow something like that. It's all right. Step back."
"………"
She nodded and withdrew.
"What's with this old man? Can't read the room, huh? Wow, they still make dads like this?"
"Right? The other day there was a guy who was pimping out his own daughter just to eat day to day."
"Heh heh heh. She's gonna end up selling her body to survive here anyway, so what's the big deal? Trying to jack up the price? Want some rice or something?"
Their garbage talk showed no sign of stopping.
Click.
One of them drew a pistol.
A gun?
Hound had banned those, hadn't they?
"…Guns? So this place uses firearms."
"Yeah? We don't use 'em much ourselves, but…"
Click.
He leveled the barrel at me again.
"All right! Shut up and stay put. Boys — strip her. Been a while since we had some fun."
"Hell yeah. A looker like this? First one since the world ended, no joke."
"Heh heh heh. What about the old man? Just kill him? Yeah. Let's kill him."
Sssring.
I drew the Yongcheon Sword.
"A sword? You insane? We've got guns! Die!"
Bang!
He fired with a sloppy stance.
A simple twist of the body was enough to dodge.
But then—
I saw the bullet leave the muzzle in a bloom of flame, crawling forward in slow motion.
Everything except me and my blade began to flow like syrup. The whole world moved as if it were a dying man's last reel of memories — time itself grinding nearly to a halt.
I brought the sword up along the bullet's path.
Clang.
I split it clean in two.
"Huh? D-did that bastard just c-cut the bullet? He's insane!"
Bang bang bang!
He emptied the gun.
I swatted the incoming rounds aside and closed the distance. Take their lives?
The blade drove straight for their eyes.
Shaaah!
"Gyaaaaah!"
"Aaaagh!"
"Uwaaah!"
They clutched their faces and thrashed on the ground.
In the apocalypse, the single most dangerous thing you can do is go after a woman. It was a miracle these animals had lasted this long.
Only then did a man who looked like he was in charge come running.
Vice-leader of the shelter, Park Ji-man, was thoroughly rattled.
Figuring they were nobodies, he'd sent his men to size them up — and of course the idiots couldn't break their old habits. Now both of them were blind.
He cast an irritated look at the pair writhing on the ground.
Damn it. These were the only hands I had left… and of course this happens while the shelter leader is gone.
Still, he couldn't just let them die.
"W-wait! P-please stop!"
"…A little late, don't you think?"
"Haa… I-I'll apologize on their behalf. But… where did you come from?"
Hyeon-woo stared at him without expression.
"Just someone looking for a shelter."
"…Is that so? Are you by any chance an Awakened… no, a New Human? H-Hound?"
Had Hound sent him?
What was this about?
Fear seized him. As if things weren't bad enough, that worthless shelter leader kept preaching neutrality, insisting they maintain regular contact with the government forces, stirring people up.
Neutrality, he called it — what business did a pack of shelter survivors have talking about neutrality?
As far as Park Ji-man was concerned, this place had originally been under Hound's management. Sticking close to that warlord outfit was the smart play. But the shelter leader seemed to be chasing some other dream.
"No. I stayed at a place called Hound for a while on the way here, but I don't belong to them."
That, at least, was an answer Park Ji-man could live with.
He faced Hyeon-woo with a servile smile.
"Hard to understand. With skills like yours, Hound must have promised you excellent treatment."
"They did offer decent terms. But I've never had the constitution for military life."
"Hahaha, same here, honestly. So you're not Awakened, then?"
"Awakened? If I were Awakened, why would I be wandering around looking for a shelter? My daughter and I would just hide somewhere and live quietly."
"R-right, of course. But why come here specifically? Ah—never mind. Please, come inside first."
Park Ji-man led Hyeon-woo's party inward, then spotted the men still rolling on the ground, clutching their eyes.
"Haa. I told them not to act out of line… Go treat them."
"Yes, sir. Vice-leader."
A few residents hauled them away.
"Come, come, this way. I suspect we have quite a bit to discuss tonight."
"Fine. Go on in, Xiao Mao~"
The Chinese-style name gave Park Ji-man pause. Since the collapse, people had clustered harder than ever by nation and race. In times like these, Chinese and Japanese who looked similar enough simply didn't advertise their nationality.
Naturally, most had switched to Korean names as well.
"…Is she Chinese?"
"The child grew up in China. She's not used to a Korean name."
"I see."
"And those men from earlier — disinfectant should be enough."
"Pardon?"
"I only cut their eyelids. They'll be fine."
"Ah? Th-that's remarkable. Zombies must be nothing to you."
Park Ji-man was genuinely impressed. Skill like something out of a movie — cutting nothing but the eyelids?
"Zombies? Hahaha. Dozens of those things could come at me and… as long as it's not a Demon Beast…"
"Of course, of course. Creatures like that are for the military to handle. In any case, thank you for showing restraint."
Park Ji-man smiled to himself in quiet triumph. Bringing a man of this caliber into the shelter would shore up his own position considerably. Then things wouldn't keep drifting the way that windbag of a shelter leader wanted.
Good. With skill like this, he doesn't even need to be an Awakened. I'll find a way to make him my tool soon enough.
He launched into an exaggerated tour.
"Tonight we'll treat you to a proper meal. Anything you'd like — just say the word."
"…Whatever's fine."
The girl who was supposedly this man's daughter hesitated, then spoke up.
"…F-Father, Dad likes Japanese-style ramen with steamed dumplings."
Irritation flared in Park Ji-man. Ramen and dumplings? In an age when plain rice was a blessing?
But he couldn't let it show.
Japanese-style ramen was out of the question, but ordinary ramen still existed. It wasn't made the way it used to be, but something resembling it was still being produced.
"Ah? I-is that so? We'll prepare something as close as we can. Go bring what we've got ready."
A nod. One of the residents understood.
Heh heh. Tonight you'll taste paradise… and by tomorrow, you'll be clinging to me.
He had stumbled across a plant in a Rift zone and discovered it was addictive. Something not unlike a narcotic.
Once they were hooked, they wouldn't be able to refuse a single word he said.
Mao Mei's mood was unsettled by Hyeon-woo's attitude today.
Showing her bare body to strange men was never going to feel good. Even with the world ending, it was still one of the things she least wanted to do — especially when there was nothing to gain from it.
But she hadn't wanted to ruin this over something like that.
I was planning to go in, paralyze them, and get out anyway…
She discreetly checked the dagger she'd recently coated with poison. Following her master's advice, she had prepared the antidote as well.
She murmured without meaning to.
"…Xiao Mao…"
The pet name her mother had called her when she was little.
She had no memory of it, but her father must have called her that too. A father who existed only as a blank in her mind.
They said he'd been someone fairly successful in Korea. So why had he turned his back on her and her mother?
Well — it wasn't a complete abandonment. Thanks to him, we lived comfortably enough. That's true.
Her mother had raised her alone, but they'd been well-off. Clothes other kids her age never had, the newest smartphones — she could get them without trouble. All of it paid for by the man in Korea they called her father.
So she hadn't hated him that much. She'd only wished, the way other children did, that her dad could be there beside her.
The moment she entered high school, she came to Korea to study.
Her mother hadn't opposed it. She hadn't known it at the time, but her father had probably helped with that too — life in Korea had never been wanting.
She had never once seen her mother work. Her mother simply dressed up and made herself beautiful every day, waiting for a husband who might never come. Even to young Mao Mei's eyes, her mother had been lovely.
Maybe if the end hadn't come—
She might have gotten a real father.
Because back then, her mother had told her with a bright face:
"Mao! Your d-dad says he wants to meet you! We have to look pretty, so let's go buy clothes first."
Beaming, her mother had taken her to the department store.
That was the day. The day the end began.
And so they met the apocalypse — never meeting the father she'd waited for, never meeting the husband her mother had waited for — and surrendered their fates to the whirlpool of ruin.
In the end, Mom didn't even last a year… before she was gone.
After that, she survived alone for two years. Starvation. Cruelty. The filthy lust of men who wanted her body.
All of it had tormented her without end.
"……Now those things feel like they were only a dream. I can barely even remember them."
When she called Hyeon-woo "Dad," something in her chest dropped with a heavy thud.
Was that what a father looked like? Could it be?
Sniff sniff.
A crude smell of cooking drifted through the air.
Undersalted, no doubt, and bound to taste like nothing.
I can't serve something like this to Master.
She followed the smell. There, people were cooking something that barely qualified as food.
It seemed finished; they were ladling it into bowls.
"Let me check the seasoning for a moment."
The cooks recognized her at once.
"Ah? Yes, yes, of course. Hahaha, we're not really used to cooking…"
"It's fine. I'll adjust the seasoning myself."
She tasted a spoonful of broth. Ordinary ramen, nothing more.
But a strange note lingered on her tongue.
Poison? N-no… not poison so much as…
Something other than poison.
She had studied herbs quite diligently back in China. It had started as a hobby, but once she'd decided she wanted to major in traditional medicine, she'd taken it seriously.
And she had a fair idea what was in this broth.
A faint smile touched her lips.
They're using something interesting.