Ch.45Chapter 6. The Price of a Name (10)

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It worked well for a change. After covering the CCTV and spreading noise to disrupt their situational awareness, the gang leadership called their members to the main building.

The main building immediately went into defensive mode and opened fire on the approaching zombies. Given their tendency to gather toward greater stimulation, the widely dispersed zombies would now attack the main building.

So all I had to do was gather supplies from the surrounding buildings and leave. However, one problem arose—my stamina was dropping.

“Huff. Huff. Haak.”

This is perplexing. I’ve been eating well, but I think it’s because I haven’t been sleeping. No, more than that, I’ve never actually depleted my stamina to this extent in a single day before.

Even on days when I rode a bicycle all day, I would pace myself to avoid sweating too much. When I had a car, I was mentally tired from intense driving, but I wasn’t out of breath.

In fact, I’d grown complacent because my physical condition had improved significantly since coming to this world.

‘What now?’

I’m not completely drained to the point where I can’t move. If I push myself, I can somehow manage. But that’s emergency fuel I should save for the end. There’s no reason to waste it here recklessly.

Meanwhile, a fire alarm sounded from the shopping center. The noise was deafening. Zombies that had been heading toward the main building now turned toward the shopping center.

This is a bit troublesome.

The main building and shopping center aren’t exactly opposite each other, but they’re significantly offset. Moreover, just a little further past the shopping center is a large entrance connecting to the outskirts. It’s currently blocked by barricades, but there’s enough space for a person to pass through.

Why is there noise coming from there?

I moved closer to investigate. I could see the bus that had fled earlier and the gang members who had disembarked. One by one, members were coming down the stairs from the building. Water was spraying from the sprinklers.

And zombies. Zombies were gathering from all directions. Some even spotted me and approached.

“Ah. Gang members are gathering on the first floor, so they triggered the alarm system because of that. But this is a bit…”

Camilla’s strategy was good. But she overestimated these gang members. Since she fights so well herself, she probably assumed others could do the same.

In truth, if these gang members had even half of her skill and composure, they could handle this zombie horde without much difficulty.

If they don’t have that much, the next best option would be for everyone to get on the bus and drive in a large circle. If they slowly circle around while shooting, like peeling an apple, the zombies would just keep changing direction until they tangle with each other and collapse.

But these guys chose a static defense instead of mobile warfare. They formed a semi-circular defensive line. This disperses their firepower and fails to properly block zombies approaching from all directions. The advantage humans with vehicles have over zombies is mobility, yet they’ve abandoned that.

Moreover.

“Aaaah, get away, you bastards!”

They’re attracting zombies faster than they’re killing them. Their shooting skills are terrible, and they’re wasting too much ammunition. They’re actually drawing more zombies in. Gang members are jumping down from the stairs one by one, but they’re not much help.

More reasons to kill them.

I pressed the carbine firmly against my shoulder and charged. Not wanting to die from gunfire, I positioned myself behind the zombie horde. One shot, two shots to the back of zombies’ heads as I gradually moved forward.

“Don’t shoot! I’m coming to help!”

I try a deception. Gang members who heard my shout wave their hands. It’s a bit hard to tell if they’re telling me to hurry or begging me to save them. Still, it’s admirable that they’re not moving the bus, suggesting they have some loyalty and are waiting for all their comrades to arrive.

Not wanting to die from stray bullets, I ran while circumventing their line of fire. The gang members deliberately avoided shooting in my direction. But that didn’t last long.

“That’s not one of us! Shoot him! That’s the lunatic who’s been destroying the CCTVs!”

Bullets rain down in my direction. I curse and hide in a depression in the ground. Wait, if bullets are only pouring in this direction…?

“Kyaaaaargh!”

“In front! Look in front, aaaagh!”

The zombies got closer. Stupid fools. Here, I’ll side with the zombies again. Tak-kang. Tak-kang. Ti-king. One shot at a time. One shot at a time. I don’t care if the bullets ricochet off their ballistic helmets. I’m putting pressure on them.

“Aaaah, duck! No, don’t duck! Shoot!”

The zombies take care of the rest. Oh my, they’re doing well. That’s right. A zombie with its legs blown off crawls over and bites a gang member’s leg. The bitten man jumps up and down.

“Waaaargh, grrrrrr!”

“Get it off! Get it off me! Please, this, aaaaaaah!”

The gang members shoot both their comrade and the zombie simultaneously. The smell of blood spreads as it mixes with water. It’s difficult to advance like this. Zombies following behind me. Armed gang members ahead.

Looking around for something useful, I spot something good. There’s a fire hydrant installed in the outer parking lot. You know that cliché where there’s a red fire hydrant on the road, and a police car or truck crashes into it, causing water to gush out?

I aim at the side, prepare, and fire. One shot. It ricochets, so another shot. I shoot an approaching zombie and then fire another shot at the hydrant.

With a bang, water gushes out of the fire hydrant. The water flowing into the shopping center’s first floor pushes away the bloody water and corpses. The gang members get splashed with bloody water. Zombies rush toward them.

I bypass the fire hydrant and evade the zombies. I put bullets in the gang members’ foreheads and quickly run up the stairs. Water is gushing down the staircase too. I hear footsteps from the upper floor.

“Don’t shoot! Zombies are coming up from the first floor! Form a defensive line!”

I shout earnestly as I climb up. As soon as I see a human face, I pull the trigger. Phit, a shot grazes a shoulder, arm, and thigh. Fortunately, there’s no bleeding.

I climb the stairs. My body gets soaked from the sprinklers. But in my mind, I recall the locations of important items. Finally, on the third floor, I find a bag. A waterproof functional backpack. On the fourth floor, I focus on gathering medical supplies and food.

<Kybele’s pride…>

Come to think of it, these medical supplies are also from Kybele Corporation. With an uneasy feeling, I look at the shelf beside it.

“Oh.”

I found something I’ve been incredibly inconvenienced without—headset-shaped earmuffs. About half the size of a chocolate pie. Waterproof as a basic option, and they even provide some minor bullet protection, but their greatest advantage is something else.

They filter sound.

They reduce loud sounds with high frequencies like explosions or gunshots, while amplifying quieter sounds like footsteps or conversations. Now I won’t have to stop, grimace, and concentrate just to hear footsteps.

They fit over ballistic helmets without getting in the way. The surrounding sounds immediately change dramatically. I feel like I could tell where everything is just by sound, even with my eyes closed.

Like the sound of footsteps stealthily approaching from the fifth floor right now. They’re heading toward the center of the corridor. I quickly gather my things and head up the stairs. Four gang members are trying to enter the central room.

This is my chance.

I throw a flash grenade and avert my gaze.

Everything in front of me brightens. Unpleasant memories from childhood surface rather than pleasant ones. Those drivers who turn on their high beams in the opposite lane at night. Feeling irritated, I pull the trigger. Two men collapse after being hit by bullets.

“My eyes, my eyes!”

“I can’t hear! Aaaah!”

“Hey, snap out of it, snap out of it!”

Shouts come from inside the room. I check my surroundings and run. Camilla is lying among naked people. She’s alive but seems to be in tremendous pain.

I made a mistake. I threw the flash grenade in here.

I interfered with Camilla’s work. Typically, in such cases, I’d deserve to be shot by a comrade for my bad manners. No, I know nothing about this. I probably would have thrown it even if I’d known she was here, so what’s done is done.

“Ah, you left your phone behind?”

Anyway, I’m just here to return her phone.

“Don’t tell me you came all the way here just to bring that?”

Fortunately, she doesn’t seem to want to ask about the flash grenade.

“I left it outside for you to take. I’m leaving now?”

She’ll figure it out.

“Hey, hey, wait a minute!”

An urgent voice. I turn around, feeling a twinge of guilt.

“Uh, what?”

“…Didn’t you come to rescue me?”

I said I came to give you your phone, what are you talking about? This is embarrassing. Just then, the water suddenly stops.

“Kyaaaaaaah!”

Zombies from the first floor are crawling up. With the headset on, I can clearly hear their footsteps now. The gunshots must have stimulated them.

“Ah, I heard sounds I didn’t make, so I was curious what was happening and came to check. There was also a usable bus on the first floor. But now it seems I’m trapped too.”

Fortunately, Camilla got up. But the others don’t rise. They all have bandages around their ankles, and some even have them around their wrists.

“…Their wrist and ankle tendons have been cut. They can barely stand, let alone walk.”

Camilla whispered in my ear. The headset made it very clear. I’d like to just leave them behind, but she wouldn’t listen to that.

A person in their right mind wouldn’t have voluntarily entered Lambert’s inferno. She’s a woman who rushed in at the mere mention that there might be slaves.

If I don’t think I can win an argument, it’s better not to fight at all.

“What about carrying them by their arms and legs?”

Camilla thought for a moment and nodded.

“That should be possible.”

“Then move them to the first floor. There’s a bus there, right? Let’s get out together.”

“Johan, what about you?”

“You wouldn’t leave these people behind if I suggested it, would you?”

Camilla immediately nodded. I asked again.

“What if I said I was going to abandon them and leave?”

“I’d let you go peacefully. It’s not your responsibility.”

Yeah, I thought so.

First, I put down my bag. There’s still time before the zombies reach the fifth floor.

“The back staircase is safe, so get out quickly that way.”

“Then, I’ll take this bag…”

Camilla tries to pick up the bag. How dare she. I may rummage through other people’s bags, but I can’t stand others touching mine.

“That’s mine, so I’ll handle it. We agreed to take care of our own business, right?”

“…Understood.”

Camilla went inside. Somehow she persuaded the people, who crawled out stretching their arms and legs. The floor was wet, making it slippery, but that might actually be better.

I have one magazine left. Thirty rounds remaining. But I won’t need to shoot much anyway, so it doesn’t matter.

I flung open the front storage room. No matter how much of a tourist attraction this place is, it’s still a golf course. There might be golf courses without customers, but none without golf balls and clubs.

“That’s right.”

I saw boxes full of golf balls. Judging by the filth covering them, they were probably set aside for cleaning. I pulled them all out and scattered them across the corridor. Two boxes. Three boxes. Four boxes.

Zombies gathered at the end of the fifth-floor staircase. I picked up a golf club. I’ve never actually played golf. I’ve only watched some videos. So nobody can criticize my form.

“If you don’t mind.”

I firmly positioned a golf ball on the floor and set up the golf club.

“Would you kneel down for me?”

Thwack.

With a crisp sound, the golf ball flies out. The zombie at the front collapses, clutching its groin. I didn’t specifically aim there.

As it falls, surrounding zombies collapse in a heap. With water and golf balls floating around, they’re having a field day. Well, they’re already dead, but still.

“If you don’t mind, would you eat the guy next to you?”

Thwack. The head of the zombie next to it splits open. A watching zombie tries to eat its neighbor’s head.

“People! Choose!”

Thwack! This one hit a zombie’s knee. The deflected golf ball bounces around, knocking them down.

“Slaves! Obey!”

Thwack!

The jaw of the zombie eating its neighbor shatters. I seem to have a talent for sports. I might even have a knack for cooking. Seeing three dead zombies still focused on their meal despite their jaws falling off…

Someone is enjoying the food I prepared. It feels good. So I shot their legs with my carbine.

The zombies fell with grotesque screams. It’s like seeing a human sandwich, no, a zombie sandwich. And then I witnessed that phenomenon again.

The pile of zombies kept growing. When too much “food” accumulated, they perceived it as an obstacle rather than food. So they crawled over their comrades.

But this corridor is relatively narrow in both width and height. The zombies ended up blocking the corridor themselves before collapsing in a heap.

“Dead people don’t have choices either.”

It’s definitely better to be alive. A blood-soaked golf ball rolled toward me, hit a fallen golf club, and bounced away.

Leaving the zombies to their squabbling, I shouldered my bag and went down the stairs. People who had practically tumbled down were struggling to board the bus.

The first floor was a mess. Water pouring from above mixed with zombie blood and human blood. Camilla was helping people onto the bus one by one. People with injured legs but intact wrists shot at zombies with guns taken from dead gang members.

“Hurry up!”

Camilla gestured when she saw me. I passed by a dead gang member.

Twitch.

The dead man’s hand grabbed my ankle. The eyeballs of the gang member with a hole in his forehead kept rolling around. His teeth were exposed. His neck flesh was torn away, suggesting he was bitten by a zombie before being shot to death.

“Oh shit!”

I would have dodged it normally.

Because of the bag. Because my stamina had dropped sharply.

My posture faltered. I fell sideways. My clothes got soaked. Half my face touched the filth. Thanks to the earmuffs, water didn’t get in.

Still lying down, I raised my gun and struck. The zombie falls. Camilla quickly pulled me up. While being dragged, I fired a shot at it. Its head exploded.

“Close your eyes! Don’t open your mouth! Absolutely not!”

I heard Camilla ripping open my bag. She rummaged through it, opened a water bottle with a crack, and splashed it all over my face.

Her calloused fingers roughly scrub my face. It feels like my skin might tear off.

I can’t even tell her to stop.