I Should've Shaken His Hand

I ended up inside a zombie apocalypse novel. Come to think of it, maybe I should've taken Captain Han Daewi's hand when he offered it. It probably would've been fine to at least shake hands. But since I'd already come this far, turning back felt wrong, so I just kept walking forward.

From the depths of my heart, a roar surged up.

I wanted to drop some serious mother-related curses, but Lee Yeji was watching, so I held back. The zombies reacted immediately. All I had to do now was shout a few more times and then run like hell.

But what the fuck? Why are those bastards sprinting?

Zombies that run? Right now? Why? Why are they running?

"Ah."

Variants. Right, of course.

Normal zombies don't run well. Because ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they're slow. That's why zombies evolved variants specialized in pursuit. Among those variants, the weakest and most common ones were exactly the ones sprinting toward me right now.

In other words, Runners.

But it wasn't just Runners. Farther back, I saw several zombies pointing at me and letting out low groans. Those variants were called Pointers. They marked me as prey and ordered the surrounding zombies to hunt me down.

"Haaaaaaa........"

I felt like I was losing my mind. No wonder they'd treated me like someone marching to their death. Because I really was marching to my death. I had to escape from dozens of these zombies.

The moment that thought hit me, my body slowly began to heat up. For some reason, I was getting excited. And I soon figured out why.

Endorphins. Hormones secreted by the body to protect itself when under severe shock. In other words, since it was obvious I was about to get beaten like a dog on a hot summer day, my body was releasing them in advance.

I clenched my trembling legs, let out one final roar, then spun around and sprinted. While running, I glanced behind me. The zombies on the road were pouring after me in a massive wave.

But why the fuck were their numbers increasing?

"Ah!"

It would've been weirder if their numbers hadn't increased. The zombies were groaning as they ran, and those groans were combining into a chorus that spread around them. That meant every zombie nearby couldn't resist joining the chase.

And their target was me.

It was the kind of situation where you instinctively start looking for your mom.

Still... those bastards were slow, so if I played my cards right, I might be able to escape. Besides, I'd brought food and water with me, so I could hold out for a while.

........And seeing a car pass by meant I'd achieved my goal.

"Fuck."

The question was where to hide. If I headed toward the buildings, zombies would burst out from inside. If there weren't any zombies, the plants had grown so thick I couldn't get through. In the end, all I could do was keep running and running.

Whenever a zombie charged at me from the front, I smashed it with my bat and kept sprinting. If I stopped, I'd die. So I ran until my mouth tasted like metal, and then I realized one thing.

"Fuck........"

There was no path ahead. It was a dead end.

In other words, the zombies had herded me here.

Since escaping seemed impossible anyway, I pulled a bottle of water from my bag. I chugged the entire thing at once, threw the empty bottle aside, and got into position. Since it had come to this, standing with my back to the wall and taking them all down didn't sound so bad. I had no intention of dying quietly.

"Grrrrrrr!"

"Grrrrr......"

"Get lost!"

The first ones to charge were the Runners. They tackled me at full sprinting speed. But I wasn't getting tackled anymore. I moved like I was tap-dancing, dodging their hands, and smashed the heads of any that went for my stomach. I swung my bat like a madman and stomped on their skulls. Before I knew it, more than half the Runners were gone.

They must have realized I wasn't an easy target, because the remaining Runners just watched me quietly. It was obvious what they were waiting for. They were waiting for the normal zombies and Pointers to arrive.

"..............Fuck."

I couldn't break through. If I tried, I'd just get surrounded and beaten to death by the group. The thought made my body heat up again. My breathing grew rough, and my heart pounded wildly. It felt like my body was preparing itself for the beating that was coming.

And soon enough, a massive horde of zombies blocked the exit. What came next was simple. The normal zombies charged first, trying to bite and drag me down.

"Fuck!"

I fought desperately not to get tackled, but there were too many. In the end, more than seven zombies latched onto my legs. As if they'd planned it, the others moved aside so they wouldn't get in each other's way. Of course, they moved while still biting, so the wounds tore open and hurt like hell. But I couldn't pay attention to that. I had to keep moving my upper body to shake off the other zombies.

I swung, blocked, and smashed in a frenzy until my bat—Peace—bent. After one final swing, I realized I couldn't use it anymore, so I threw it aside. Next time I'll find a sturdier baseball bat, I thought as I immediately got into a boxing stance. With two more zombies clinging to my legs, I couldn't use my waist for proper straights, but it was enough. It would be plenty to crack these bastards' skulls.

"Guh?!"

"I won't stop! Punching! Until you! Die!"

I hammered the heads of the zombies that charged in without thinking, using my knuckles. I already knew how to throw punches. After getting beaten so much by a boxer, I'd learned it naturally. I kept throwing punches, killing the normal zombies, and beat down the ones still biting my legs. By the time I came to my senses, I'd already killed more than thirty.

Corpses were neatly piled on both sides of me. My arms and legs were covered in bite wounds. And there were still a ridiculous number of zombies left. Even though I'd killed thirty of them, their numbers hadn't decreased at all. Did these neighborhood zombies bring in every single one of their friends? I thought as I forced myself back into stance.

I was outnumbered, but they couldn't all rush me at once. So all I had to do was stand my ground and crack the skulls of the ones that came at me. After killing the ones biting my legs, I started stepping ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠again.

"Grrrr.....!"

"Come at me!"

My fist sank into the head of a zombie that came charging with both arms outstretched. I immediately kicked the collapsing corpse, knocking over the ones behind it too. I gave a knee strike to one trying to tackle me, followed it with two punches, then lifted and threw it. Thankfully, there were no long-range variants. Only close-combat ones. Which meant it was time for me to get my ass beaten.

"Huuuuurgh......."

I smashed the head of the zombie biting my shoulder and tossed the corpse aside. Two Boxers were walking toward me from the front. The way they were efficiently chipping away at my stamina under the Pointers' instructions was utterly disgusting. I was definitely about to get my stomach pounded by those fists.

Mom.

My whole body trembled again as rough breaths escaped me. My happy circuits spun into overdrive. The fantasy of wiping out all these zombies and proudly returning to the PC Bang. While indulging in that happy daydream, I raised my guard.

There was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no way I could overwhelm a Boxer with technique anyway. And if I hesitated, I'd just get beaten more, so I charged straight at one. I leaped, wrapped one arm around its neck, and pounded its head like crazy with the other. Of course, I took several hits in return. Back. Side. Stomach. Arms. Face. Pretty much every place that could be hit, got hit. But I won. I fucking won.

"............Uweeegh."

I vomited stomach acid, stepped on the Boxer's crushed-head corpse, and stood up. It looked like the zombies weren't increasing anymore. That was a silver lining. It meant if I killed about sixty more, I could go home.

So I got into stance and stood, albeit unsteadily. My vision was spinning, and my arms and legs burned like they were on fire. Saliva was dripping from my mouth without any input from me. And my stomach, which had started turning a bit blue, flushed red again.

"Grrrrr."

"Uaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

The dogfight started again. The pattern was simple: get bitten once, then counter by smashing their head with my fist. I began killing them one by one for sure. Of course, my body literally turned into a rag in the process. The parts with joint protectors were relatively okay, but everywhere else had been bitten multiple times.

I felt the weight of zombies biting my shoulders, so I suddenly bent my upper body forward to shake them off. I crushed the head of the one biting my arm, ripped it off, then kicked another zombie away with all my strength. I grabbed the head of a zombie headbutting my stomach with both hands and slammed it down onto my knee, crushing its skull.

"................Huk."

I kicked the corpse aside to clear a path, then got back into stance. My vision was blurry and I couldn't see well, but there seemed to be about twenty left. That was a little comforting. It meant if I got bitten about fifteen more times, I could run away.

So I slapped my cheeks twice to wake myself up and got back into position. I pushed away the thought of whether things would've been different if Lee Yeji's dad had been here, and immediately threw a punch.

"Guh!?"

"You're slow, you bastard!"

Out of the five zombies that charged at once, the one in front had its head smashed and collapsed. But I couldn't stop the remaining four. On top of that, my failing stamina caused me to fall backward. With a heavy thud, I was bitten all over. As if they'd been waiting for it, the other zombies swarmed in.

I tried to get up before they arrived, but something stepped on my stomach and I could only gasp for air. These motherfuckers really were only attacking my stomach.

"Uweeegh........"

I'd thrown up so much that only stomach acid came out now. I wanted to keep killing them one by one even while getting bitten, but my instincts told me the truth. If I got bitten any more, I'd die.

So with strength that came from who knows where, I forced myself up and threw the clinging zombies to the ground.

With the single-minded determination to kill these green-skinned insect bastards, I swung my fists, kneed them, and elbowed them. When I came to my senses, the countless zombies had been reduced to five. And four of them ran away.

I thought about chasing them, but it was impossible. Letting the Pointers live would cause headaches later, but with my current body, there was nothing I could do. Still, I decided to kill the last one, deal with the corpses, and then leave.

"........................Ah."

"Grrrrr."

"Whyyyyyyy! Why a Boxer! Why the hell is it a Boxer!"

"Grrrr."

"Kuh... fuck... this is unfair......"

The Boxer kept swinging its fists. It was a telephone punch, but I didn't have the strength to block or dodge it. I was so exhausted I felt like I was really going to die. So I just lay spread-eagle on the ground and told it to kill me.

But this fucking bastard punched my stomach with full ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠power? If you're going to kill me, at least do it cleanly. I was so unfairly pissed off that I couldn't just die.

I wrapped my legs around the Boxer's waist, pulled it in, and rolled once. Whether it hit my stomach or my side, I didn't care. I grabbed its neck and pounded its head with my knuckles. I took a few more hits at the end, but I still won.

Now all I had to do was burn the corpses and go back. I tried to stand up.

But I couldn't see anything in front of me. No, my vision was wrong. Depth perception was off, my head was spinning. I thought I was hearing hallucinations too.

Hey. Hey. Wait a second. If I collapse here, I'm really going to die......