The Naming of Jeokro
The convenience store inside the zombie apocalypse novel held no obvious dangers. Maybe it was because Kim Yeonhua’s father had already cleaned it out last time. The place was so quiet that all my earlier caution felt pointless. I carefully picked up a few cans scattered across the floor and got to work with hurried hands. Thanks to the experience I’d gained scavenging like this, collecting supplies didn’t take long at all. I just tossed anything still edible—ramen, canned goods—straight into the cart. If something looked fresh enough to eat, I stuffed it into my bag instead. A few items hadn’t gone bad yet, so I loaded my share of food into the cart and packed the rest into my pack.
Once the cart was full, I pushed it inside the building while keeping an eye on my surroundings. “Seonghwa, I’m heading out now. Keep me updated.”
“Understood, Lady Yeji.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Using that as an excuse, I climbed onto my beloved steed—my bicycle. Normally I’d have to drag the cart all the way to the dojo, but honestly, with my level of experience, that wasn’t necessary. So I made up some story about standing guard and just watched instead. Thankfully, everyone handled the unloading without issue. After receiving the beopbong’s handle from Lee Ayoung on her way down, I placed my foot on the pedal. Only one thing left to do: ride straight down the road for about two hours and it’d be over.
The thought of riding freely again lifted my mood. This heavily modified bike deserved to be pushed to its limit. Until now I’d been forced to match the other students’ pace, but with my current stamina, I figured I could reach the campus in under an hour if I kept a steady rhythm.
“I’ll be back!”
After connecting the beopbong handle to the weapon and slinging it over my shoulder, I waved. Someone answered from behind as I gripped the handlebar with one hand and started pedaling. Riding the bike wasn’t difficult. The road had obstacles, but I could weave between them easily enough. More than anything, this wasn’t an ordinary bicycle, which made it even better. A normal two-wheeler would’ve been a struggle just to balance, but my steed had been reborn as something closer to a motorcycle you powered with your feet—practically a four-wheeler.
“Nobody can stop this thing now.”
I chuckled to myself while enjoying the wind brushing against my cheeks. Come to think of it, this steed needed a proper name. Things lasted longer when you gave them names. I decided to stop worrying about the baseball bats left behind at the PC Bang. Those five were still carved into my heart anyway. Though, to be fair, they had proven useful, just like the beopbong.
“Nothing decent comes to mind.”
I wanted something short yet cool-sounding. Since I’d been using Korean or Sino-Korean names so far, I figured I should stick with that for consistency. A horse name would probably fit best.
“Jeokto is way too cliché.”
Everyone would laugh if I used something that famous. I needed a cooler, rarer name. My mind worked surprisingly fast in moments like this, and one name surfaced almost immediately: Jeokro.
“From now on, your name is Jeokro.”
It was supposedly the name of a famous horse once ridden by Liu Bei. Two syllables, stylish, and uncommon enough to work. Just as I was about to pedal harder, I spotted a zombie sprawled across the road ahead. It looked dead, but it was blocking the path perfectly. I could either ride straight over it or try that technique Kang Siwoo had mentioned once—yanking the bike’s frame mid-motion to leap over obstacles. It was apparently some kind of secret technique, but since I’d never succeeded at it even once, I figured I might as well just roll over the corpse.
“Ah.”
The moment I tried, something on the ground suddenly twitched. My body lifted into the air, and the sound of spinning wheels filled my ears. Time seemed to slow. I caught a glimpse of the zombie—its back broken by Jeokro’s wheel—mouth opening wide. My vision flipped. Jeokro and I went flying. Praying my consciousness wouldn’t cut out, I flailed my arms, only to feel a heavy impact against my stomach before everything went dark.
“…Ow.”
When I came to, I was face-down on the asphalt. Something heavy pressed against my back, and the ground around me felt damp. I pushed myself up with shaky arms and finally understood the situation. While flailing mid-air, I must have landed on the beopbong and crashed. The weapon’s shaft had slammed into my abdomen, and even after some time had passed, it still throbbed. The headset was half-destroyed and dangling from my head. My forehead had been split open and healed, leaving dried blood crusted on my skin. Scratches and bruises covered me everywhere, and a small puddle of blood had formed beneath me.
It didn’t take long to figure out where all that blood had come from.
“These idiots welded this thing so sloppily!”
During Jeokro’s modifications, someone had mentioned a few sharp edges that could cut or stab you if you weren’t careful. They’d said to just grind them down yourself and asked for understanding. I hadn’t paid attention at the time, and now I was paying the price—but that didn’t stop the anger from bubbling up. I spent a while cursing out the students who’d done the welding before finally righting Jeokro with an irritated huff.
“Grrgh…!”
“Eat this, you bastard.”
I smashed the head of the crawling, broken-backed zombie and checked myself over. Only then did it sink in. I’d survived another close call. If it had been anyone else, they probably would’ve broken something. Hell, I’d face-planted straight into the ground—my skull could’ve cracked. Good thing this body was tough. After a few more minutes, the pain faded enough that I could ride again. I climbed back onto Jeokro, pedaling carefully this time while keeping a much closer watch on my surroundings. If I made the same stupid mistake again—mistaking a corpse for roadkill and rolling over it—I’d probably end up even more hurt than before.
Thanks to my newfound caution, I reached the main gate of Seunghak Campus without further incident.
“Oh! It’s Lady Lee Yeji!”
“Welcome back!”
I waved at the students on guard duty, parked Jeokro, and headed upstairs. The number of steps to Hyeonlim-gwan suddenly felt overwhelming. The fastest route was straight up the front stairs, but after tumbling across asphalt, the thought of climbing them was exhausting. Still, I couldn’t exactly groan in front of everyone, so I gritted my teeth and sprinted up.
Kang Siwoo was waiting for me at the top, as if he’d known I was coming.
“What, were you waiting for me?”
“No. I just had a bad feeling, so I came out.”
“Haha, Siwoo. I went all the way to Building 2 and saw something interesting.”
“Judging by your expression, it must’ve been good news.”
“Hmph, who do you think I am?”
Keeping my excitement in check, I explained the situation. We’d successfully entered the boxing gym run by Kim Yeonhua’s parents. There were about twenty survivors inside, but our current numbers weren’t enough for a full rescue operation. Waiting around wasn’t ideal either, so I’d come back personally to report. I asked him to make a decision as quickly as possible.
After I finished the concise report, Kang Siwoo nodded and smiled brightly.
“We can’t dispatch a rescue team right away, but I understand. Do you know the location?”
“Uh… near Seorim Apartments. The place where Kang Seonghwa lives.”
“Kang Seonghwa’s house…?”
“Ah, right. He said it was near his place, so the two of us went together.”
“I see. Fortunately, I know the area, so we won’t need directions.”
“Then… can I head back now?”
I’d left behind some reliable people, but they still had to hold out with the survivors for a full day. More fighters would’ve been better—having fewer never helped anyone. Unless something went wrong, I planned to ride Jeokro straight back.
“You look excited.”
“Ah, well…”
“I’m joking. Then let’s meet at that building.”
“R-right…”
I glanced nervously at Kang Siwoo before bolting down the stairs. I hopped onto Jeokro, gave the students a quick nod, and pedaled hard—hard enough that they probably wouldn’t even see me at this distance.
Kang Siwoo, that bastard. He knew exactly how much his words affected me, yet he still pulled stunts like that. If I could, I’d scream my frustrations about him right here and now. How could anyone treat a person like their personal toy? I understood the constant vigilance and the threat of death if I slipped up. But couldn’t he ease up a little during normal times instead of keeping me constantly on edge?
“Ah, shit.”
As if being teased wasn’t bad enough, several runners had started following me from behind. My speed would let me shake them off eventually, but the irritation remained. Even when I tried to lose them, they kept pace. Their numbers were growing, and instinct told me the truth.
Ah. I was going to be stuck on the road all day today.