Lee Yeji's Great Victory
"Shit." Good thing I'd brought a lighter with me. Otherwise I'd have had to head down to the convenience store on the first floor. The task was simple: burn the General's corpse.
"Heh... heh-heh-heh-heh........." The words he'd been spouting just moments ago still echoed in my ears. No, fuck. Small chest but a big ass, huh. That was seriously fucked up. No matter how much my body was female now, my mind was still male. I'd mostly adapted, but the thought of being held by a man still made me want to puke. Yet I'd spewed all that crap because I didn't want to die. It had taken a serious toll on my psyche. But it was fine.
"Well, well. Getting your head smashed in because you let your guard down........." A laugh escaped me on its own. Slowly, I brought my left hand to my chest.
"Who would've thought a General who controls zombies would die like this." Maybe because it was a pose I'd always wanted to try, the laughter wouldn't stop. You know, like those scenes from anime. Sometimes you just want to reenact them in real life, right? It was exactly like that. Next time, I should proudly shout "Lee Yeji's great victory!"
With that thought, I delivered the next line.
"As expected, the survivor wins. Ah, shit. My body......"
Normally I would've taken my time, but my body felt absolutely wrecked. It was like my lifespan was being shaved away in real time. Everything creaked, and my heart felt constricted. I figured I should grab what I needed, eat, and lie down. I flicked the lighter on and tossed it onto the General's corpse.
"Ah, shit. It's warm........"
I watched the General burn for a while, then kicked at the ashes with my foot until I found a pouch. The reddish-brown pouch had once held the General's secretions. The only non-flammable part of his body, it served the same function: warning other zombies to stay away and driving off survivors. Once dried, the rotting smell would vanish and only the pheromone that worked on zombies would remain. If drying it was too much trouble, I could just toss it in a fire and roast it. Easy to process either way.
"Ow, hot......"
I rolled it around in my palm a few times so I wouldn't lose it. Once it had cooled enough, I gripped it and headed downstairs. I planned to grab some food from the PC Bang on the seventh floor first. After entering the basement level, I lay down on the bed and fell asleep.
When I came to, my body was burning with fever. My head felt like it was splitting open. The worst part was that I couldn't move at all. I was hungry and thirsty, yet I couldn't take a single step off the bed. I muttered a curse and closed my eyes again.
The next time I opened them, I was standing in front of the rooftop door. I must have been dreaming. Dream-me opened the door and stepped onto the roof. Of course the General was there, getting beaten to a pulp in real time. Still, it was fine. It was just a dream, so it didn't hurt, and he was already dead anyway.
"Ah, shit!"
But the final scene of the dream jolted me awake. Something like a tentacle had shot toward me, and my perspective had shifted. Suddenly I was the one with broken legs, unable to walk, patting my swollen belly while kissing the General.
"Looks like the baby's coming out, honey. Motherfucker."
It was the scariest dream I'd ever had. Thanks to the nightmare, the bed was soaked with cold sweat. Thinking I'd have to wash the sheets later, I pushed myself halfway up. I immediately realized I still couldn't move much. My head didn't hurt, but the fever lingered. My stomach throbbed painfully too.
"Ah, shit." I thought maybe I'd gotten diarrhea and headed for the bathroom, only to feel disgusted when I saw blood. Reminding myself to bring feminine products next time, I sank to the floor. I needed to eat something and lie back down. I didn't have the strength to reach the pharmacy anyway. Under normal circumstances I probably could've made it there by now, but the way my body still creaked told me I'd come dangerously close to dying.
".........................."
My eyes naturally drifted to Conversation and Peace. They looked like they were made of solid iron—definitely sturdier than aluminum. And they'd pack a much harder punch. One good swing with those and a zombie would drop instantly. Yeah. War. Time for war again! The stronger I hit the zombies, the faster they'd die. Smash the head and they die. That was an unchanging truth. Conveniently, there was a gym on the fourth floor.
"Heh... heh-heh-heh-heh........" I'd train harder, build muscle, and use that strength to kill zombies. That was all I needed. Good. Decision made. Now I just had to eat and sleep again. After devouring all the frozen food, I returned to bed.
This time I dreamed again. Once more I stood before the rooftop door. Dream-me opened it without hesitation and, just as expected, got the absolute shit beaten out of me. The scene played out the same way until I was lying there with my pants off. Ah, this again. The moment I realized it was repeating, my legs broke. Dream-me screamed at the sight of limbs bent in impossible directions. Then it ended. When my vision changed, I was cradling a baby zombie, apparently nursing it while countless hands grabbed at me—some pulling my hair, others seizing my legs.
No, fuck. Those weren't people. This was the point the General had rambled about—being able to birth enough kids to form a soccer team. Miniature versions of the rooftop General surrounded me. In the distance, the General who had opened the roof brought two more people. Dream-me looked at him with affection, only to be lifted by the waist. In that position I laughed, saying the baby would get startled, and acted cute. Pain in my lower abdomen jolted me awake.
"Shit........." For a second I wondered if it wasn't a dream, but thankfully it was. The pain was just menstrual cramps, not the result of carrying the General's child. It was simply the aftermath of yesterday's period. What a relief. At least I could confirm I'd actually killed the General instead of just fantasizing about it.
After taking a few deep breaths to steady myself, I stepped outside. My condition still wasn't perfect. Bruises covered my arms, legs, and stomach. I hadn't rested this long in ages, and it was starting to make me anxious. Still, time was the best medicine. A little more rest and I'd be fine.
"Whew, at least I can walk." Fighting was out of the question, but moving around seemed doable. I headed to the first-floor convenience store and found most of the ready-to-eat food gone. There was also a note saying they hadn't taken the ramen because they figured I had a way to boil water. Huh. There was a postscript too. "Jinsoon took a pack because she likes it, lol. Gross." A cough forced me to bend over and hack for a while. Since I remembered, I boiled the remaining instant rice and ramen, ate, and went back to sleep.
Luckily, no dreams this time. When I woke, my body felt much better. Hands on my hips, I declared the line.
"Lee Yeji's great victory!"
It wasn't the strong who survived. It was the survivors who were strong! I etched that ancient truth deep into my heart, then filled my stomach since I was hungry and thirsty. Afterward I picked up Conversation and Peace.
"Hmm." They were quite heavy. Still, I could now lift them with one hand without much trouble. Before, just holding them had been exhausting. I must have gotten stronger. I gave them a swing and immediately understood—this wasn't something I could wield like a normal bat. They were so heavy that the weapon was swinging me instead. But that was fine.
"From now on, your name isn't Conversation and Peace anymore." Time to tame my weapon. That heart-pounding moment you only saw in fiction was happening right now. I needed to give it a cool name—something flashy I could proudly introduce to others. One name came to mind.
"Beopbong. From now on, your name is Beopbong." The staff that read "demon army" but was called "zombie"—the Beopbong that liberated corpses unable to die and still wandering. I wasn't religious, but it probably didn't matter. Come to think of it, I'd only been naming the bats. The knuckles I'd lived with all this time must have felt left out.
"Alright. Your name is Conversation. And yours is Peace." After giving the knuckles new names as well, I geared up properly. I planned to raid the gym on the fourth floor. I went straight up, raised Beopbong, and brought it down on the door. It wasn't reinforced glass; the door shattered with a crash. Thanks to that, I had to plaster myself against the wall while letting out a very feminine shriek. At least no one else was around—another small mercy. I put on gloves and cleared away the broken glass. Once the cleanup was done, I searched the gym and found the most important item.
"Ah. Perfect." Rows of unopened protein powder in various flavors sat waiting. There was still food left, so I'd train here until it ran out. That was the plan, and I followed through.
Several days had passed since I'd started living covered in sweat.
"Heh-heh, Beopbong." I could now swing Beopbong freely with both hands. One hand was still too much—it'd wreck my wrist. Turned out it weighed five kilograms. Either way, I was far stronger than before. Hands on my hips, I shouted.
"Ultimate Yeji, deploying!"
Cheetahs start slow. This cheetah Yeji. Since the food was gone, it was time to raid somewhere else.