Welcome to Zombie World (5)
7:17 PM.
Nearly six hours had already passed since they arrived here.
In that time, large and small groups of zombies had continued to approach and drift away. Yubin and his friends had made three more supply runs outside in between. By now, they had hung a total of 400 balloons around the area. There were ten different types.
Even with the bicycles shortening travel time, the result had only come from moving at a relentless pace. Jinwoo and the Sheriff had already killed well over a hundred zombies for this operation.
Even so, a few zombies still lingered around Jabeolle and the plaza. It was because of the zombies' habit of shedding a few stragglers into empty spaces as they passed. Either way, all of today's external work was finished.
All that remained was observation. Yubin, Jinwoo, and Mingu each fixed their gazes in different directions, waiting for more zombies to appear.
“Hahaha, you little punk! How about that? I told you I'd give you something good, didn't I?”
Down on the third-floor rooftop, the Sheriff was laughing cheerfully while playing with Samsuk-i.
Whirrr-!
Every time the Sheriff pulled the trigger, dozens of bubbles sprayed from the dolphin-shaped bubble gun. The bubbles sparkled like jewels as they floated freely on the river breeze. Samsuk-i chased after them with intense focus.
Huff, huff, huff-!
The dog popped every single bubble as if refusing to let even one escape. His stubby tail spun like a motor, clearly enjoying himself.
“The blue ones are coming.”
Jinwoo, who had been watching the west through binoculars, spoke up. Zombies with round blue balloons bobbing above their heads appeared near Jabeolle.
“Blue zombies… 7:17 PM, western direction…”
Yubin pulled out his notebook and began taking notes. The pages were already filled with curves and annotations. Even after using blue, red, and green ballpoint pens, the records remained confusing.
“Blue? Not green?”
After finishing his notes and cross-referencing earlier entries, Yubin asked with a puzzled look.
“Blue isn't supposed to pass through at this time… They should normally come about fifteen minutes later.”
“Really?”
Jinwoo blinked and raised the binoculars again.
“Uh… Now that you mention it, they do look green…”
“Little brother… Are you colorblind?”
Mingu asked with a hint of sympathy. Jinwoo waved his hands dismissively.
“No, no. It's just too dark. You'd probably see the same thing, hyung. Take a look.”
Jinwoo handed the binoculars to Mingu.
“Hmm…”
Only then did Mingu understand why Jinwoo had been mistaken. He let out a small sigh and returned the binoculars. Their eyes had grown somewhat accustomed to the dark, but with the sun down, the colors of the glittering balloons were impossible to distinguish. To Mingu, they simply looked like a murky gray.
“Round balloons are blue. Star-shaped ones are green.”
Yubin spoke while checking his notes. Jinwoo nodded.
“Ah, right. They are stars. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. It's only because it's you that we can even see this much.”
Yubin patted Jinwoo's shoulder. Observing the colors of distant objects in this darkness was only possible because it was Jinwoo. Perhaps only someone with owl-like vision, like Samsik, could do better.
“Whew, it's gotten pretty cold.”
After correcting his notes, Yubin shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. There had been a time when standing in the sun for ten minutes would leave him drenched in sweat. Now, every gust of night wind brought real discomfort. It was even worse on the rooftop of the Han River café, with nothing to block the wind.
“Well… Cold is to be expected. Winter's coming.”
Jinwoo replied. It was already late November. A hoodie and windbreaker no longer felt sufficient. Even Gore-Tex couldn't fully keep out the chill against the skin.
“You're just hungry. Eating something will help. Hey, Jinwoo, put the binoculars down and eat too. It's too dark to see anything clearly anyway.”
The Sheriff came up the stairs, rustling a plastic bag filled with Spam, canned tuna, snacks, instant rice, plastic utensils, and drinks from the deck convenience store. He distributed everything and handed out wet wipes with a stern warning.
“Wipe not just your hands, but the food packaging thoroughly too. There was a ton of mold on the refrigerated items. It might've gotten on these as well. I rinsed them with water, but it still feels off.”
“You hear that? The hyung says you can't just put anything in your mouth! He says there's a lot of mold.”
Jinwoo said this while opening a can of chicken for Samsuk-i on a disposable plate. The dog's muzzle still had traces of bubbles from all the playing.
“Then let's eat while drinking something warm together.”
After washing his face with water and wipes, Yubin pulled out the thermoses he had saved in the duffel bag.
“There's ramen broth and coffee, hyung. Pick whichever you want.”
“Give me coffee. You even brewed this in advance?”
Mingu looked intrigued. As Yubin poured the still-steaming coffee into paper cups, he answered.
“Jenny and Terra gave it to me before we left today. They said they prepared it themselves.”
“Who brewed the coffee, and who made the ramen broth?”
The Sheriff, who had been scooping Spam with a plastic spoon, showed curiosity. Yubin shrugged.
“I don't know… I didn't ask. And does it matter? Either way, Pink Punch made both.”
“Hmm… That's true, but… Well, whatever. Then I'll take the ramen broth. Make it spicy…”
The Sheriff held out a paper cup. After blowing on it and taking a sip, he smacked his lips and muttered bitterly.
“Whoa, this is Jenny's cooking.”
“Doesn't taste good?”
Yubin quickly took a taste himself. It was true. The ramen broth was unmistakably Jenny's. Too much water had made it bland, and for some reason it lacked umami. What kind of technique had she applied to the instant ramen seasoning?
“It's hard to mess up ramen this badly. Maybe it's because the noodles are old…”
Despite his grumbling, the Sheriff drank every last drop of Jenny's ramen broth in one go. His inability to cook didn't diminish his affection for her in the slightest.
“Pour me some too, in here.”
Jinwoo held out the instant rice bowl he had been eating from. Before tilting the thermos, Yubin warned him clearly.
“It won't taste like the ramen broth you're thinking of.”
“Doesn't matter. If I mix in gochujang, it'll all taste the same anyway.”
Jinwoo said. He probably just wanted to add warmth rather than flavor.
“…The expiration date is a year and a half away.”
The Sheriff suddenly looked at the bottom of the Spam can as if remembering something. Jinwoo asked.
“So?”
“When all these expiration dates pass, what do we do when we want meat?”
Strictly speaking, Spam wasn't meat, but it was close enough.
“If we really want it, we'll just have to hunt it ourselves.”
After thinking for a moment, Jinwoo continued while shoveling down instant rice mixed with seasoned gochujang and Jenny's ramen broth.
“I've seen cows walking around in Gangwon Province before. There are probably quite a few animals that survived like that.”
“Hunt them ourselves?”
The Sheriff grimaced, bits of rice flying from his mouth.
“Hey, it's not as easy as it sounds… Killing a cow or pig while looking into those black eyes? That's what you're saying.”
“You've killed hundreds of zombies, so what's the big deal? Don't you look them in the eye when you kill zombies? You stare right at them and swing.”
“That's different, you punk. If you don't kill a zombie, you die…”
“It's the same with meat. We have to adapt to the situation. Even the Spam we're eating now was made because someone else did that work for us.”
Jinwoo replied. He didn't want to kill living animals either, but if it was truly necessary—for example, if one of his friends needed meat for health reasons—he would do it without hesitation. This was no longer an era where whining worked.
“Even if you… kill it, that's not the end of it, you know.”
The Sheriff, overly immersed in the scenario of catching a live animal, muttered with a shudder.
“You'd have to skin it because of the fur… and split open the belly with a knife to pull out the guts… Ugh, shit. How do you even do that?”
“What's so hard about gutting? I can teach you that skill.”
Mingu, who had been listening quietly until then, spoke up. Just hearing those few words conjured an image of the man smirking while swinging a knife to slice open someone's stomach. The Sheriff turned to him in disbelief.
“Good grief, man! Of course you'd say that!”
“If you don't want to learn, don't. I don't teach cowards either.”
Mingu said curtly and didn't engage further. Arguing over how to gut a cow that might not even exist—these two were something else.
“If the world still looks like this in a year and a half, it's hopeless anyway.”
Jinwoo rinsed his mouth with a drink and continued.
“Once the nuclear power plants blow up, no one will be able to clean it up. And it's not just in our country.”
Graaaah-!
As if providing sound effects to Jinwoo's words, zombie howls echoed from the right riverbank. They were no longer visible, but somewhere out there, zombies were marching. As regular as clock hands, without rest. Was it really possible to eliminate all of them and return the world to how it used to be?
“Well, we can worry about that once we're safely back on Big Island.”
Yubin swallowed the rice soaked in ramen broth and calmed everyone down. Whether the future was bleak or not, survival had to come first. The dead had no future to speak of.
“Ah, right. Since we're talking about going back, I should bring some of these to Jenny and Terra too when we head to the island. Just imagining them laughing and playing with these makes me happy.”
The Sheriff grinned widely as he shot the bubble gun upward—the same one he had played with earlier with Samsuk-i. The sight of large and small bubbles rising into the Han River sky was quite beautiful even in the darkness. However…
“Sheriff, you little punk… You've changed.”
Jinwoo, munching on chocolate for calories, made a sharp observation. The Sheriff blinked in confusion.
“Changed? What do you mean?”
“You're sneaking Terra in there too? You were always going on about being Team Jenny only. Now you're trying to have it both ways?”
“No, no! I'm still Team Jenny, but it's just…”
At a loss for words, the Sheriff waved his hands frantically.
“How should I put it… When I look at Terra… I just want to protect her, comfort her… That kind of feeling. And honestly, Terra's pretty too! This is just an objective assessment.”
“…Well, it's his freedom to like whoever he wants.”
Mingu interjected with a single remark. Though it seemed to take the Sheriff's side, the tone clearly implied “It won't happen anyway.”
“Huh? Are you looking down on me? I'm better looking than you, you know!”
The Sheriff snapped and turned to Mingu.
“Good luck with that.”
Mingu replied briefly, grabbed his cigarettes, and stood up. If he missed this chance with the strong wind blowing from the riverbank, there was no guarantee when he'd get another chance to smoke.
“Hoo…”
Mingu exhaled smoke into the blackened sky. He owed Terra a debt so great that he would gladly give his life to repay it. He could never forget the resolve she showed when she decisively cut her own wrist for his sake. Naturally, if anyone approached her romantically, he would watch with fierce vigilance. But still…
If it was one of these two, it would be fine.
Mingu looked at the Sheriff and Jinwoo in turn. In a world where academic background, power, and wealth no longer mattered, the one who could take care of himself was the best. Besides, these guys were genuinely good people. They were willing to risk their lives to save complete strangers… How many people like that existed in this world?
Of course, Yubin wasn't bad either, but since he had seen Jenny kiss him on the pool hall stairs that night, the clever schemer was already off the list.
“Aren't you cold, hyung?”
Yubin, now wearing a padded jacket, approached and asked. Mingu was still in his suit without a tie. It might look decent, but it was completely unsuitable for late November weather.
“I can manage.”
“Wear this at least while we stay up tonight. It'll be tough if you catch a cold. You had surgery not long ago.”
Yubin pulled out a lightweight padded jacket he had prepared and offered it to Mingu.
“That wasn't even worth calling surgery, want to see?”
Mingu proudly rolled up his shirt and exposed his side. Somehow, the JL foreigners had cultured muscle cells and seamlessly reattached the side that had been blown off by a bullet.
The faint scar wasn't from the graft surgery, but from the burn left by Bamtol's heated knife that night. Thanks to that, his physical abilities had nearly returned to pre-injury levels.
“They said they were culturing muscle cells… It really worked.”
Yubin said while examining the surgical site closely.
“Go ahead and touch it.”
Seeing the curiosity in Yubin's eyes, Mingu generously offered his side closer.
“Huh?”
Yubin's mouth fell open at the sudden suggestion. Touch it…?