Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: D - 4
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July 16th, early dawn.
I took a taxi from the crack of dawn heading to Pohang.
It was to inform the countermeasures headquarters of the exact D-Day and time.
"They've seen zombies by now, so they'll act on their own..."
Still, the president's resolve needed more solid proof than that.
It seemed no further information had come in despite waiting until night.
In the end, they must have failed to secure any Survival Life production staff.
That left me as the only one who could provide intel.
I had to do this if the government was to take even minimal measures in the remaining four days.
I went to a deserted stretch of coastline where no one would show up and called the countermeasures office using Kwon’s phone.
After a few rings, a man with a voice like he was on death's door picked up.
―This is Administrative Officer Lee Woo-beom of the Countermeasures Headquarters.
"I know the exact time of D-Day."
He let out a sigh.
―We've gotten about three hundred calls like that over the past few days... Are you by any chance Kimbap Lover from Survival Life?
So many idle fools out there.
I spoke quickly.
"July 20th, 1 PM. Let me repeat: July 20th, 1 PM. The hobgoblin we recovered from Gayasan a few days ago should have two holes in the back of its head."
Only the perp—me—the coroner, and key personnel would know that.
A quick check with the Secretary's Office would confirm it.
―Wa-wait a second.
I hung up and chucked the phone into the sea.
Then I did my best to throw off any tail: zigzagging my path, changing clothes in the woods, the works to evade tracking.
Honestly, I didn't think I even needed to go this far.
Once the government verified the D-Day date and time, I doubted they'd come chasing after me.
But assuming they would put my mind at ease.
Treating everything around you as hostile helps survival.
Of course, helping folks like Hyung-jun hyung, the salon girl, or Soo-yeon wasn't bad either.
We had a rapport, and they might help me in return.
I got home and pulled up the footage from right before the end.
"Where's that patch note..."
In just a few days, the world would turn into a demon realm.
Half the population turning zombie, and even the surviving minority wouldn't last long.
But yesterday, I learned something unexpected.
Zombie durability was significantly weaker than in the early game I remembered.
"Their heads get a bit smashed and they don't drop... Did they lower the difficulty?"
Here it is.
I checked the final patch notes I'd compiled.
"Ah, right. There was this."
It didn't concern me anyway, so I'd just screenshotted and moved on.
"Durability drop confirmed."
The organic tracking nerf and 10-point weapon provision were eye-openers.
The former meant zombies wouldn't detect humans as easily.
The latter was probably the ebony wooden club.
Combined with lower durability, survival odds in the tutorial shot way up.
Diversified point acquisition meant ways beyond hunting.
Still, patching like this while shutting down service?
"Such diligent folks."
If I could, I'd track down the devs and demand answers.
What the hell they were, where they were hiding, why game and reality merged.
Not that others wouldn't want to find me too.
"Back to work."
As I dug the moat with the excavator, goblins started milling about again.
Bigger group than before, so I stayed sharp and loosed arrows.
They freaked and bolted, but I doubted they'd give up.
"Goblins are persistent little shits."
Either they break me or I break them.
I tailed them with the drone.
Sure enough, from a nest 3km north.
Wanted to storm in and pistol-whip them all, but I'd hold off until apocalypse day.
"Need to clear tutorial and stabilize first..."
Stabilize meaning no more major incidents.
"Remaining schedule..."
Post-Russian trawler, nothing until tutorial.
For loot, Busan's fireworks festival on the 21st.
Local news hadn't reported cancellation.
"Outboard motor's no good..."
Have to row out to sea.
Post-tutorial, shouldn't be too hard.
"Today, slow shopping spree."
Felt like big news was brewing; no mood for moat work.
I put Dingo in the passenger seat and hit the fishing store.
While picking lobster traps and spears, a gray-haired old man went "Ah!"
Checked the counter: TV spewing breaking news.
It cut off abruptly like censorship kicked in.
The owner grumbled.
"Why show then stop?"
"Censored, probably."
"Censored? What era is this..."
"The era where zombies could pop out anytime."
He sighed deeply at my words.
"Business is dead lately. You’re my first customer in days. What the hell are they doing up top? Just shoot all the zombies or whatever."
"Yeah. Anyway, how much for these?"
I grabbed a pile of fishing gear I'd always wanted.
Camping store was crowded, but here it was just me.
Grandpa peered over his glasses and waved it off.
"That much?"
"Last chance. Feels like no fishing ahead..."
"Poor kid, so young."
I meant reels crumbling from metal plague, but he took it wrong.
"Half off, take it cheap."
"Can I grab more?"
I beamed; he looked pitying.
"Once hooked on fishing, can't quit even then. World ending soon anyway... Take all you want."
"Yes sir. Thanks."
I loaded the SUV trunk full of fishing gear.
Bowed out, marked the store on my map.
"Can hit this later."
No idiot raids a fishing store mid-zombie chase.
Coast has few hides; super risky.
But I could use otherworld seas freely.
Minus monsters, paradise.
"Next up..."
Hit the traditional market for manual sewing machine, bedding, fabrics in bulk.
Dimension gate to cave warehouse—good thing I built it.
Drew monster aggro, but worth it.
"Shoes, basins too..."
Apocalypse checklist filling up.
Not endgame farming, just survival prep.
Zombies ignore non-food; monsters like goblins take time.
Fortify shelter, stockpile more in meantime.
"Then help survivors if any—helpful, friendly ones only."
Marts for food, essentials, clothes galore.
Sorted in empty spots.
Stockpiles made vast shelter feel tight.
Grabbed jars, kimchi makings.
Digging yard for burial jars was major work.
Sorting alone ate the day.
Evening, drove home.
"...What're those?"
Why so many military trucks prowling Busan?
Troops packed in each.
Got home puzzled—big shit hit.
War, they say.
...
"What bullshit is this."
War days before zombies?
North Korea invading?
Breaking alerts flooded every community.
Tried digging more—internet cut.
Phones went dark, TV down to one channel.
Radio just noise.
Outside, folks milling, murmuring.
Mi-kyung poked her head out.
"Uncle, TV out?"
"Yeah. Net, everything. Something about troops deploying..."
"War?"
Anyone'd think so.
But not me.
North starting war needs massive artillery to melt the front.
Gyeonggi north shelled to hell first.
No such reports.
Even spec ops infiltrating couldn't seize national comms easy.
Disguised as ROK troops hitting Yeocheon petrochemical hub? Nonsense.
President must've decided final martial law.
No announcement to avoid panic.
Mi-kyung fidgeted anxiously, glancing around.
I told her,
"Mi-kyung, hit the gym. You're a member."
"You?"
Wanted to say fine alone, but sticking together not bad.
Zombie outbreak not yet.
"Let's go."
Hurried with Mi-kyung.
Out alley, small military truck broadcasting caught eye.
Mi-kyung gripped my arm.
Troops broadcasting meant hole up three days with kin.
Then most turn zombie.
Walking, overheard ajummas.
"Hubby suddenly home. Asked what's up—dunno. Told from above just go."
"What’s he do?"
"Civil servant."
"Jeez..."
Shops shuttering.
Heavy trucks meant for ops clogging roads.
Gym: members peering out anxiously.
"Sung-ho."
"Yup. Not for nothing?"
"Course not. Meet Yoo-hyun."
"Ah, the dongsaeng. Hyungnim."
Young guy bowed. Mi-kyung's age, total hunk.
Idol material.
"Awakener?"
"Kinda, but I suck at games... Tried in VR cafe, too scary, quit."
Local uni engineering major.
Asking specialty rude.
EE might help later.
Asked Hyung-jun,
"Hyungnim, hear anything?"
"Nah. Talking to ex—line died."
"I was shopping, soldiers barge in, 'buy fast and scram.' Total pushy." — Bora.
Kyung-hoon, Yoo-hyun shared too.
All clueless, frustrated.
I knew, stayed mum.
Hyung-jun chain-smoked.
"Can't wait. Gotta check Ji-eun. Sung-ho, mind holding?"
"Boss, I'm here."
Kyung-hoon grinned, waved.
Hyung-jun shrugged knowingly, headed down.
Nothing here, followed.
Soon, two soldiers arguing sporting goods owner.
"In this democracy! My shop, my call—what's it to you? Bribe me?"
"No, sir, orders from above..."
Early-20s troops fumbling vs elders.
Hyung-jun noticed, odd look.
"Coup? They'd be steel. Not this soft."
"Yeah."
"Not war. What then? Maddening. I'm off."
"Yup. Greetings to sis and Ji-eun."
"Not sis now."
"Heh. Coming back?"
"Duh."
Post-hyung, soldiers to me.
"No loitering. Secure three days' rations, go home."
Glasses guy's stiff tone clashed with mild face.
Other smirked.
"Heading to mart. Reason for three days?"
"Dunno. Just orders."
Too busy deploying for explanations.
No need to clash.
"Got it. Heading in."
"Please."
Mart, shoved through crowds, stocked candles/matches, home.
Laptop, checked downloaded vids list.
"...This'll do."
Canned food recipes, gardening, manual sewing—handy stuff on HDD.
Saved anything decent, blind now.
Hundreds; check later.
"This too."
Tree felling/hauling, charring to canoe.
Shit fertilizer... someday?
Night fell pitch black.
Vehicle curbs? Dead quiet.
"Dress rehearsal?"
Grumbled, lit candle.
Apocalypse creeping close.
End of D - 4