Ch.57Chapter 7. Ice Is No Less Than Fire (9)

‘The Hive’ consisted of a 20-story hotel and six 15-story apartment buildings surrounding it. The seven structures were separate yet formed one building, connected by skywalks between the hotel and apartments.

The construction was shoddy, cobbled together with metal sheets, scaffolding, and wooden beams. When empty of people or cargo, the bridges swayed with every gust of wind. There were railings of sorts, but nobody ever held onto them.

“That looks rather dangerous.”

Camilla shrugged at my comment.

“Can’t be helped. It’s better to build bridges between buildings than risk walking the streets and getting attacked by zombie dogs, rats, or cats.”

Other high-rises in Hampton were in similar condition. But there was a difference between the lower and upper floors. The lower floors were mainly reinforced with ropes and wood, while the upper floors had metal sheets, steel pipes, and H-beams for stronger support.

In contrast, the Hive was solidly built from bottom to top. It still swayed in the wind like the others, but it looked far safer than planks laid over nets.

“Why is it like that? Are the higher bridges made of sturdier materials because the wind is stronger up there?”

“No. The upper floors house more wealthy people. The poor live on lower floors, while the rich live higher up since the probability of zombie attacks decreases with height. But even they don’t live as well as those over there.”

Camilla pointed to the other side of the city. High-rise buildings blocked the view, making it difficult to see what she was indicating.

“There’s an additional barrier over there, spanning both above and below ground. They have separate electrical and water systems. Soldiers are stationed there permanently for protection. Actually, that was originally Hampton.”

“Then what is this place?”

“This is Hampton too. Hampton is quite a large city in south-central Elza. Before the zombie outbreak, 500,000 people lived in Hampton City.

After it was declared a human protection zone, people forcibly relocated from non-protected zones flooded in, and now the estimated population is between 700,000 and 800,000.”

It was vastly different from what I remembered.

I already knew I had landed in a time before the world’s end. So I often experienced confusion when places I remembered looked different from what was before my eyes.

But Hampton was completely different.

The Hampton I remembered was just a wasteland.

Buildings had collapsed from bombings, zombies would lie in wait to bite ankles, gang members would time their sniper shots for when players were dealing with zombies, and rival players would inevitably ambush you from behind near escape routes—Hampton was the epitome of a hellscape.

But this place was a “city” in every sense. The buildings were intact, with electricity and running water. Though not available 24/7, having lights that turned on and toilets that flushed was something.

Fortunately, Camilla knew city life very well. The Liberation Group’s main activities were in human protection zones—towns and cities.

Non-protected zones were places they entered only when absolutely necessary.

Camilla said her main duties involved disruption, information gathering, and establishing communication networks rather than combat. This gave her knowledge about fake ID procedures, disguises, deception, and trickery.

“There are other black markets besides the Hive in Hampton since it’s a big city. But none compare to the Hive.”

“Really?”

“The Hive has order. It’s ruled by a criminal organization called ‘The Syndicate,’ a violent group in collusion with the Elza government. They’re dirty bastards who do what the National Gendarmerie can’t, but they have the advantage of maintaining order while committing their evil deeds.”

“Ha. What about the others?”

“They commit evil for the sake of evil.”

* * * * *

In summary, the ‘Hive’ is Hampton’s massive hotel complex and enormous traditional market.

Like any city building, the entire Hive complex has electricity, gas, and water. It also features a closed communication network and trading bulletin board that covers the entire building.

Sellers first rent a hotel room and post on the bulletin board: “Have certain items in building X, room Y.” Potential buyers see the post, ring the doorbell, enter, and negotiate.

To prevent scams, all visitors to the Hive are permitted to carry and use firearms. Whether someone gets a bullet in their head for trying to scam or someone opens fire with a machine gun upon entering—that’s up to them.

However, if the building is damaged, Syndicate members will respond to “restore everything to its original state” through certain measures.

Of course, not only vendors use the ‘Hive.’ It also serves as affordable accommodation for outsiders like us, homeless people, and poor folks hoping to make their fortune in Hampton.

Since we needed to stay for a few days and engage in bartering, Camilla said we needed to register for both accommodation and selling.

“But how do you know what’s broken?”

“…You’ll see when we get there.”

I followed Camilla into the central hotel lobby. All other apartment entrances were blocked and only opened in emergencies, she explained.

The hotel lobby resembled a massive internet café. Computers and monitors filled the open space, with people sitting and operating keyboards and mouse. Except for gun racks on the desks, it was no different from a regular internet café.

“What are they doing?”

“Those people? They’re Hampton citizens. Probably searching through market listings to buy what they need before heading home.”

As evident from the gun racks, Hampton citizens carried weapons too. Rifles were tucked away in guitar case-like bags, with only pistols visible.

“The Elza government is truly remarkable. They abandoned their ‘duty’ to protect citizens from zombies but guaranteed citizens the ‘freedom’ and ‘right’ to deal with zombies themselves. No wonder people call it survival of the fittest.”

“Only those who adapt survive?”

“That’s the original meaning, but it’s different here. ‘The longer you live, the more you lose.’ With all the utilities, taxes, and even bullet costs, how is anyone supposed to make a living?”

The counter was divided in two. The left side was for those who only wanted to use the market without accommodation, while the right was for those seeking lodging.

“Welcome to the Continental Hotel.”

A very hip-looking fat man greeted us attentively. He had two K-47 rifles placed on the desk. A notice reading “Please be respectful to employees. They are someone’s precious family. If not…” was particularly eye-catching.

“Are you familiar with the usage rules?”

The man asked, pushing documents toward Camilla and me.

“Yes, I am.”

Camilla answered while filling out my form along with hers.

“Expected duration of stay?”

“Two to three days. Let’s say three for now.”

“Will you pay for accommodation, or would you like to stay for free?”

“I’ll pay for accommodation.”

I thought free would be better, but Camilla unhesitatingly chose to pay. She must have had her reasons.

“Will you be using the market? If so, for buying, selling, or both?”

“Yes, both. One room. Two single beds, please.”

The man nodded and handed us a key, a printout titled “Continental Hotel User Guide,” and a laptop. The internal network password was written in large print.

“Finally, I must inform you that all rooms are equipped with CCTV. Since you’ve chosen to pay for accommodation, the cameras will remain off, but for ‘customer safety,’ they may be activated without warning if necessary. You have no objections to this, correct?”

I was about to protest this nonsense, but Camilla subtly waved her hand. She wanted me to leave it to her.

“I agree.”

“Then rest well. You can collect your cart on the left.”

The man’s gold tooth gleamed.

* * * * *

We loaded our belongings onto the cart and pushed it along. It rolled smoothly, well-oiled. Our room was in Building 2, Room 306. We needed to cross two skywalks to get there.

The skywalks were sturdier than I expected. They made creaking, clanking, and squeaking noises, but that was within acceptable limits.

“Why did you agree to pay for accommodation?”

Instead of answering, Camilla blushed. After entering Building 2, I understood why.

“Ahhh! Ungh! Ah! Ah!”

“Harder, harder! Oh, yes! Ahhh!”

Loud moans echoed as soon as we entered. The apartment had no concept of soundproofing. Even the cheapest goshiwon I’d stayed in had better sound insulation.

“Down, down, you son of a bitch, down!”

“Bullshit.”

Somewhere, loud arcade game sounds could be heard, followed by “Die, you bastard!” and then a bang! of a gunshot.

A bell rang at the end of the corridor. Camilla quickly gestured for me to move aside. Two people in hazmat suits pushed a cart past us. It contained two corpses.

“Not zombies. Don’t worry. Not zombies…”

“…What is all this?”

I was dumbfounded. Camilla smiled grimly.

“City life.”

* * * * *

We pushed the cart to our room. The door opened with a click when we entered the code. Camilla and I immediately changed the door password.

The guide stated that we could change it to anything since there was a master code anyway, just don’t forget it.

The size was comparable to a small apartment. One living room, two bedrooms, one bathroom. The living room had a sofa and table, with old bloodstains visible on the legs.

The problem was the noise.

– Ah. Ah. More, ah, good. Ah. Fuck, ah, ah shit…

– Bang! Bang! Thud.

– The Elza government has declared a cabinet reappointment to take responsibility for the ongoing zombie crisis. Accordingly, the current prime minister and ministers will serve indefinite terms…

There was absolutely no soundproofing. Television sounds, flesh slapping against flesh, gamblers’ voices, and haggling—all came through unfiltered.

“Isn’t this supposed to be a residential apartment?”

“This is why it failed. How could anyone live like this?”

I immediately understood.

Camilla flopped down on her bed. Sitting with her back to the television, she loosened her clothes.

“There are CCTVs installed everywhere. Think of that television as just a giant camera. Since I paid for accommodation, they should be off now.”

“…What happens if you don’t pay?”

Camilla shook her head at my question.

“This is a black market, a place for people with nothing to stay. People who have nothing but their bodies. But there are many in this world who desire others’ bodies.

So, they have sex in front of the numerous CCTVs installed in the room. The desk records and sells it. They say there’s no sound, but with various angles, they can still make stimulating edits.”

“Why go to such extremes?”

“To survive.”

Camilla’s voice was somber.

“Saving on accommodation by making amateur porn, volunteering for cleaning jobs that risk zombie virus infection for pocket change, leaving the Hive to find a small room somewhere.

That’s these people’s modest desire. To survive in a safe city, even if it’s just a small space. It’s better than sleeping on the streets and becoming a zombie.

But the situation has only worsened. Housing prices skyrocketed due to forced relocation from non-protected zones, and essential supplies deteriorated. People are angry. Everyone has guns, though, so they’re holding back because they know what would happen if this anger explodes.

Hans, the Central Front leader, wanted to exploit exactly that. He knew this city was a massive powder keg. If the bomb had gone off, the city would have collapsed—not by zombies, but by people. So, in a way, it’s fortunate.

It’s all thanks to you, Johan. You saved the people of this city. Thank you for not listening to Hans.”

Camilla’s eyes sparkled so brightly that I decided not to share my opinion that Hampton might be better off as ashes.