The Countdown Begins

Assuming all of this was true, the future looked utterly bleak. Zombies. They were a staple creature in movies, novels, and comics—so overused you could get sick of them. But if they became reality, the story changed completely. On a screen, they were almost comical. Slow, stupid corpses that groaned and shuffled after people. Yet the moment you imagined one standing right in front of you, it stopped being something you could laugh off. Even a person with congenital analgesia charging at you with murderous intent would be terrifying. These things called zombies didn't die easily. And if they bit or scratched you, you got infected. Just a graze was enough to end everything.

“……”

Still, let's try to think positively. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Scientifically speaking, zombies ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠didn't make any sense. Corpses decayed. Muscles rotted, nerves broke down, joints stiffened. They were supposed to disappear eventually. Even if some virus infected people, the transmission routes would have to be limited. Bites, blood splatter, bodily fluids making contact. Something like that. In that case, if you could just hold out through the initial wave, there was a chance everything could be contained. It only seemed threatening when you knew nothing about it. Most modern people had received higher education. If they built barricades and holed up inside buildings, they might manage somehow. Besides, how long could rotting corpses last against modern weapons? Guns, armored vehicles, armies, bombs—the ways to wipe them out were too many to count on your fingers. No matter how you looked at it, if you pushed hard enough, zombies were ultimately just lumps of meat.

“……”

I was momentarily speechless. Airborne transmission. At least half the population. No decay. Only removable by destroying the head or heart. Weapons were only useful if there were people left to use them, and if over half were gone, there was no answer. Still, there was one last sliver of hope. Their movement. Most zombies were slow. They staggered, arms outstretched, chasing only the prey in front of them. Against something like that, locking doors and climbing to high places might buy enough time to survive. These days, running zombies showed up often enough in fiction, but there was no need to jump straight to the worst-case scenario.

“…, Fuck.”

This was bullshit.

My head hurt.

Another day had passed. A thousand days had seemed like a lot at first, but once it dropped into the triple digits, it felt endlessly small. I didn't know what to do, but I still went to work at the convenience store today. The world hadn't ended yet, after all.

“…, Have a good shift.”

“Yeah.”

The part-timer from the previous shift greeted me and left.

A completely ordinary, slightly chubby woman. She left five whole minutes early.

“…, Sigh.”

That part-timer. Maybe because she was young, she did her job sloppily. The cash count and cigarette inventory were fine. The problem was that the tables hadn't been cleaned and the food waste hadn't been taken out. She hadn't restocked the empty spots on the shelves either. It pissed me off, but I couldn't confront her directly. I'd subtly complained to the manager before, but it didn't get anywhere. Several other employees had already quit because of her, so the manager just wanted to keep things peaceful. I was the only one stressed out. What made it even worse was that she seemed to subtly take advantage of that fact. And the fact that I knew it too.

'…, Even a girl like that gets laid.'

Her heavily made-up face sat somewhere between ugly and plain. Her figure wasn't exactly something you could call good, even as a white lie. At best, it had faint curves. From my perspective, she wasn't particularly attractive. Yet unlike me, a virgin, she'd already had sex twelve times. It was both depressing and frustrating.

“……”

It really was impossible. I was twenty-three. I'd lived through nearly two full cycles of the Chinese zodiac, but I'd never had a girlfriend, not even a female friend. People could call me unattractive or annoying all they wanted, but in the end, I was worse than that. 168cm tall. Not fat, but chubby. I thought my looks weren't bad, but no one had ever complimented my appearance. Objectively, maybe I was ugly. At least I'd never been told I was repulsive, so I took comfort in that. Because of it, I had no interest in grooming myself. I barely even used lotion. I only cut my hair when it grew long enough to poke my eyes. That was it. Since I couldn't see well, I'd worn glasses since I was very young. On top of that, being introverted, I had very few close friends of the same gender. After I came back from the military, those connections had basically dried up, so now I didn't even have anyone I could call a friend.

If you asked whether I was satisfied with that life, the answer was no. Of course I hated it. But I'd never made any real effort to change myself, so I just lived with it. Maybe this was my punishment. Vaginal ejaculation. No matter how I looked at it, it was insane. Since birth control pills existed, it wasn't completely impossible, but realistically, the fact that I couldn't even look a woman in the eye properly was my current situation. If the world really was going to end, I might have to create slaves according to that unknown message and build some kind of army. I'd gather food and supplies later, but no matter how I thought about it, that alone didn't seem like enough to survive. Slaves. Training. Me, who stuttered even during normal conversation. Me, who couldn't make eye contact. I was screwed. The hurdle was way too high for a virgin. In a race, you at least had to know how to stand at the starting line. What the hell was I supposed to do?

Ding-dong.

“…, Welcome.”

The date had changed, but I was still on duty. My shift was the night one. Nights didn't see customers flooding in like crazy, but supplies came in twice. And because customers trickled in steadily, I didn't actually get much rest. In the past, I never showed it, but it annoyed me. These days, it was pretty bearable. A lot of women came in. Time flew by while I looked at their status windows. There were plenty of motels and entertainment districts nearby, so the kind of people you'd expect visited often. I'd only guessed before, but after gaining the ability to see other people's status windows, I'd confirmed those guesses were true quite a while ago. Of course, there were women who weren't like that. But there were far more who were. When I checked the history next to their sexual encounter count, surprisingly detailed information appeared. For example, a woman who'd had sex just ten minutes ago. Or a woman whose total partners exceeded a hundred. There was even one whose first time had been at age oo. It was shocking. Sometimes I fell into self-loathing, wondering why I was the only one who couldn't do it, but what was the point of complaining? Reality was cruel, and I had to live in it.

“Seojin, good work today.”

“Yes.”

“Any problems?”

“No.”

“See you tom—, ah. Tomorrow's the weekend, right? Seojin, get some good rest.”

“Yes.”

I half-listened to the manager's words as I changed and left the convenience store.

“……”

I couldn't see the manager's status window since he was a man, but he seemed like someone who'd had his share of fun. I'd heard he owned multiple buildings. Whether it was true or not, seeing how relaxed he was made it believable. I didn't know for sure, but his car looked expensive too, which added credibility. He was supposedly in his thirties, but he looked young and handsome enough to pass for early twenties. An alpha male like that would definitely attract women. It made me depressed.

“Haa.”

A sigh was all that came out.

My house was close to the convenience store where I worked. If I walked slowly after my shift, I could get there in under ten minutes. It was a slightly run-down villa. A four-story building without an elevator. I trudged up the stairs to the fourth floor. The landing, where the early morning air hadn't circulated, smelled of damp dust. The door on the right side of the stairs. When I touched the electronic lock, a blue light came on. Out of habit, I entered the code.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Click.

The moment I opened the door, the unique smell of an old room rushed out first. It was a worn-out studio apartment. I took off my shoes and stepped inside, and a familiar voice reached me.

“You're… back?”

A voice that sounded like it was crawling. It had no strength. My body was already exhausted from just getting off work, but hearing that voice made it feel even heavier for some reason.

“Yeah.”

A woman was sitting in the corner of the room. Her long brown hair was tied up roughly on top of her head, and her round body was half-buried inside an oversized t-shirt. The light from her phone reflected off the glasses she wore, hiding her eyes. A thoroughly gloomy sight.

“Did you eat?”

I glanced toward the table. There was food on it. But only one set of utensils.

“I… I ate earlier.”

“What?”

“…, Ramen.”

“You must've just been on the computer again.”

“……”

She avoided answering. Or maybe she couldn't. As if avoiding my gaze, she lowered her head a little more and aimlessly rubbed the phone screen with her finger. I didn't feel like pressing the issue. It was already obvious. She sat in front of the computer all day, boiled ramen when she got hungry, and when she got tired, she curled up in the corner of the room and stared at her phone. Yesterday was like that, the day before was like that, and tomorrow would probably be no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠different.

“Aren't you going to eat…?”

When I walked past without saying anything, the woman asked belatedly.

“It feels gross. I'll wash up first.”

“Ah…”

The conversation ended there. I headed toward the veranda and took off my outer layer. The t-shirt that reeked of the convenience store peeled away from my skin. A sticky sensation—whether sweat or dust, I couldn't tell—remained on my back. I tossed the t-shirt and pants into the laundry basket.

“Now that I think about it.”

“Hm…?”

“When I left today, I noticed the shampoo was running low.”

“I… I bought some.”

“Okay.”

I crossed the room in just my underwear, but it didn't really bother me. More accurately, I was the one who didn't care. She seemed used to it too, because she didn't react. I entered the bathroom. The sound of water probably leaked outside since I didn't even close the door properly. Oh well.

“…, Whew.”

I'd been holding it in since my shift was almost over. Even though there was a woman right next door, I had no particular qualms about doing my business. I'd never really been conscious of her in that way to begin with. She was less like a woman and more like a long-time roommate. It hadn't always been that way. At first, I'd been a little cautious too. But when you live in the same room for a long time, you end up seeing every possible sight. You see things you'd rather not see over and over. Eventually, the embarrassment becomes a hassle. If I had to put it into words, it was easier to think of her as the one with longer hair. That was more comfortable. It was only natural. Because she was my older sister. She was my blood-related older sister.