Ch.4Chapter 1. Human Unprotected Zone (3)

The first starting village is called Mini Bell.

True to its name “Mini,” it’s a really small village. There’s not even a supermarket to get supplies, let alone a general store—just ten wooden houses.

Across the road with no center line, those three houses—the ones still burning—don’t have much worth salvaging. Even if they did, I couldn’t enter them anyway.

The one advantage is that there are probably no zombies left in this village. No matter how brutal this game might be, it doesn’t beat you to death right from the start.

It knows that giving you hope first and then crushing it creates greater despair.

Just like me now.

* * * * *

I sat watching the burning houses for about 30 minutes.

I needed to see where the fire might spread, check if any zombies might jump out, and determine if there were any hiding in the seven intact houses.

There was no more smell of blood, but instead the scent of burning wood and the acrid stench of burning hair. Knowing what was burning made me nauseous, but to a hungry dog or zombie, it would be an irresistible meat smell that would drive them crazy.

But there was no movement from the seven houses. No matter how cruel the situation had become, it seems the number of tutorial zombies hadn’t changed.

Well, much of the tutorial logic is artificially structured and difficult to tamper with. But now I’ve passed the first stage.

Now it’s truly the wilderness. The certainties have ended, and all that remains is improvising as I go.

Looking on the bright side, there are no more zombies here. But it’s not a place to stay long either. This village is isolated, and resources are scarce.

Maybe later, if I return with a large truck full of supplies and undertake major construction—but that’s something to consider after overcoming all crises when there’s nothing else to do.

“Alright.”

Now I can slowly explore the seven intact houses. I don’t know what I’ll find, but I’m not expecting much. A bottle of water and a can opener would be enough.

I decided to check the house at the far left of the road first. Naturally, the door was wide open, and with no curtains drawn, I could see clearly inside. There was nothing there.

“Excuse me, I’m a thief.”

I knocked on the door and started to enter but stopped. There was some kind of warning notice attached to the door. It had been hastily posted, tilted at an uncomfortable angle.

<NO ENTRY>

Despite seeing these characters for the first time, I could read them like Korean. Assuming it was some minimal translation adjustment, I continued reading.

<This area has been designated as a human non-protection zone. All humans in the area must immediately move to the evacuation waiting area.

Personnel remaining in non-protection zones may be “disposed of” without notice according to quarantine guidelines. The government assumes no responsibility for any human or material losses that may occur during enforcement, and we inform you that those who disobey instructions may face severe legal consequences and damage claims.

The epidemic can be contained. Chaos can be controlled. Trust and follow the government. Chimera Special Quarantine Management Department>

“Human non-protection zone?”

That’s a concept I’ve never heard before.

I ignored it and went inside. The house was a mess, suggesting they had “evacuated immediately.”

Drawers were completely pulled out and scattered on the floor, and large packaging plastic hadn’t even been cleared away. A sticker on the plastic had a label reading “Carrier (Large).”

This meant that local residents had hurriedly packed their belongings after an evacuation order. Seeing clothes scattered in the rooms and hallways, I could tell how chaotic it must have been.

‘Then what were those zombies earlier?’

I recalled the zombies I had burned. Their faces were rough-looking but also quite wrinkled. Most of them were elderly.

I entered the innermost room. There was a new-looking but filthy bed, small animal bones rolling on the floor, piles of waste, and open cans.

At least the waste had dried up so the smell wasn’t too bad, but I couldn’t help wrinkling my face and covered my nose and mouth with my arm.

There wasn’t much in the drawers. Just a family photo and a neatly folded newspaper. A small but kind-looking grandmother, a young couple, and a chubby baby. The grandmother’s face seemed somehow familiar. She resembled that zombie who had been pushed back due to her smaller build.

“Sigh.”

I couldn’t help but sigh. I put down the family photo and took only the newspaper as I left the house.

The situation was the same in the other houses.

Again, stickers were attached to the doors, and I ignored them and entered. Large items like carpets had been left behind, along with various odds and ends.

Yet people had consistently left their family photos behind. Everyone in the photos was smiling—awkwardly, broadly, happily. But now they’re gone.

Click.

Here too, cans were scattered about. I could see plastic spoons as well. I didn’t particularly want to pick them up, but since cans were visible in every house, I lifted one using a clean cloth.

<Delicious meat stew newly introduced by Cybele Food Company! No cooking required.>

Other cans were similar. Tuna, sardines, fruit. The companies were all different. But all the meat products were from Cybele.

“Ha.”

Some items made me laugh wryly. Meal sets that could be heated with heating packs, like instant combat rations. They contained pound cake and meatloaf, but were completely empty.

<Simple preparation meal plan newly introduced by Cybele Food Company! No cooking required.>

I don’t know what this Cybele place is, but it gives off military contractor vibes.

“New.” “Exclamation mark.” The tone ending with “~yo” as if it’s some great secret. Yet the design seems ten years outdated, and the template introduction text shows no creativity whatsoever.

And all the cans smelled like seafood bibim sauce. This undeniably means they just boiled one sauce and divided it among all the cans.

“You know what? People say seafood bibim sauce tastes bad, but that’s because they eat it heated. The fishy smell really comes out then. There’s a proper way to eat it.”

“Is that so?”

“If you mix the cold sauce with rice noodles soaked in hot water, it’s surprisingly good. Tastes like spicy sea snail noodles. Try it when you have time.”

When I had time during night duty, I tried it. It was truly an intense flavor.

How brilliantly the sunlight shone on the day I was carried to the medical unit in an ambulance, wearing my squad leader insignia. I was so grateful to my squad members who stood in formation on the training ground, watching with eyes full of concern.

My military service hadn’t been in vain after all, I thought, expressing my gratitude.

“Hang in there… soldier…”

I kept smiling until the ambulance doors closed.

* * * * *

There was a spacious table in the living room of the last house. I laid out all the items I had collected. After going through all seven houses, I hadn’t found much.

Two 500ml bottles of water, one unopened package of sausages. One spoon, one fork. Still no can opener. Besides that, one flashlight, one small medical kit, and one roll of toilet paper.

For weapons, one hunting knife and one fire axe.

Clothing was relatively plentiful. I discarded all the ragged or blood-stained items and kept only those in good condition.

As a result, I collected a brown windbreaker, a comfortable pair of walking boots, one decent shirt and a pair of jeans, and a wide-brimmed hat.

There are about two cars, but they look old and broken down for a long time.

The bicycle has a large basket in front and three gears, but it’s literally meant for suburban strolls—a flimsy thing that would fall apart if you tried to pedal at 40 or 50 km/h.

I was prepared, but things were much worse than expected.

I unfolded the newspaper. It’s clean but old, with yellowed paper. The underlined parts are clear.

“The government announced in an official statement today that ‘the Crow virus is not contagious, can be contained, and is controllable, so there is absolutely nothing to worry about,’ while emphasizing that ‘people should strictly follow personal hygiene guidelines such as frequent handwashing and heating food before consumption.’ However…”

Crow. That’s the name of the zombie virus that has spread in this world. The transmission method… actually varies depending on the difficulty level, so I need to find out more details.

The reason I burned the houses with the zombies inside, despite the already scarce resources, is that it would be the end if the virus could spread through the air in enclosed spaces.

The rest of the news is all trivial. A terrorist was executed, the Democratic State of Minsk in the west denied any connection, the Römer Republic in the east expressed condolences for the unfortunate “accident”—that sort of thing.

I shook my head and opened my backpack. Now that the surroundings were clear, I could take out my mobile phone. While electricity and water were definitely cut off in this village, I couldn’t be certain it was the same elsewhere.

It’s a smartphone not much different from the model I used. The battery is full. The buttons work normally. And that’s all the good news.

“Enter password”

“Out of communication range”

For some reason, even emergency calls won’t connect. I had no choice but to put it down.

“What now.”

At this point, I could feel the malice. It’s like someone deliberately misaligned the gears. With no other options, I put the phone down and checked the condition of the items I’d collected again. Then I accidentally knocked over a bullet.

I managed to grab it before it rolled onto the floor. It might not fit my .22 caliber pistol, but it could be useful…

“Huh?”

I examined the bullet again. There was a scratch on the side of the casing. It was clearly a V-shaped mark deliberately carved with something sharp.

A brand-new pistol. A casing with a V engraved on it. A briefcase with an unknown password. I examined the case again. A black metal case. Smooth. Nothing special except for a combination lock.

No, looking again, that’s not all. There’s a translucent panel next to the lock. Judging by its size, perfect for a fingerprint, it seems to be a fingerprint recognition panel.

I try placing my fingerprint on it, just in case. A red light illuminates inside the panel. But that’s it. Nothing happens.

“Nice.”

A gun that doesn’t match the bullet. A password-protected phone. Limited supplies. A case that won’t open.

“Status window…?”

Nothing appeared. In situations like this, a translucent window that only I could see should appear saying “Hidden stat activated” or “Apocalypse Convenience Store: Today’s special price 99,999 won!” or something like that.

“Status window!”

I shouted more energetically, but nothing appeared.

“Statuuus…”

Ring ring ring!

I hiccupped. A phone call. Buzz, buzz! Ring ring ring! It vibrates intensely as if demanding to be answered quickly. But didn’t it say “Out of communication range” earlier?

I take a sip of water and answer the phone.

“Didn’t I clearly tell you not to touch the case, Hoot?”

A gruff male voice. I remain silent.

“Where have you been holed up with your phone turned off? How much more incompetent can you get, Hoot? You have absolutely no grasp of the current situation…”

Unfortunately, the man cut himself off there.

“Who’s there?”

His voice dropped even lower. I take a deep breath and answer.