Chapter 32: Robbery

Evidence of collapsed authority stood right before my eyes. Police with no interest in maintaining order, instead robbing citizens. A very positive development.

How nice not to get arrested for committing crimes.

I gave a genuinely warm smile to the police eyeing our haul. Though they couldn’t see it through my mask, it showed in my eyes and demeanor.

“Your twitching eyes suggest magnesium deficiency. I happen to have some supplements.”

As I dug through my bag for supplements, the officer stepped back with trembling eyebrows.

A somewhat flustered voice rang out:

“What, what’s this? Why’s he acting like that?”

“Stop right there!”

Even the officer watching our rear approached in obvious confusion. As if I might be hiding a bomb. I ignored their concern and took out magnesium and multivitamin supplements.

“Here’s magnesium.”

I offered them like gifts, but the officers wouldn’t take them. Rather, tension flashed in their eyes as they stared at the supplements suspiciously.

“Mixed with zombie saliva? Again targeting our equipment-“

Some memory seemed to strike them. Suddenly the officer aimed his gun at my head like having a fit. A kind of PTSD response. They’d apparently suffered a lot, befitting treasure goblins.

I slowly raised my hands in surrender, and fortunately the other officer intervened before things escalated.

“Calm down. Just an ordinary citizen.”

“Hello. I am a citizen. These are new products just discounted at the pharmacy, purely a gift.”

The gun barrel pressed to my forehead trembled. That cold metal touch. The officer’s clouded eyes wavered like someone lost in memories.

I heard Do-hyung and Park Yang-gun’s subtle retreating footsteps.

After a moment, the officer’s expression showed deep fatigue. Wrinkles creased around eyes wet with cold sweat. He lowered his gun and rubbed his face several times like washing it.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“We get attacked so often. Please understand, sir.”

I nodded, understanding completely.

Natural in a world where gifts couldn’t be innocently accepted. Even the sushi restaurant owner had fed people pufferfish poison. I’d draw weapons too if strangers offered gifts.

I carefully asked with concern:

“Are there many people attacking police?”

This seemed to flip some switch. Both officers nodded vigorously. Anger blazed in their eyes.

“Some crazy person wrote online telling people to attack police. Many come after our weapons.”

…Wasn’t that me? I was definitely the first to write that post.

Had the impact of my writing been bigger than expected?

“People ramming police with cars, swinging weapons at our backs, luring zombies then stealing weapons from our corpses. Many colleagues died at citizens’ hands…”

The officer squeezed his eyes shut, hands trembling.

I felt strange emotions. My writing had moved people, changed the world. Maybe I’d somewhat achieved my dream of being a screenplay writer?

Lost in thought, I quickly dug through my bag and pressed a can of Spam into their hands.

“You must have it rough. Fighting zombies on top of everything.”

“You really don’t have to.”

The officer accepted the supplements and Spam with an embarrassed laugh. The small incident had built rapport. The people openly targeting our goods had become friendly.

As the officers pocketed the gifts.

An evil thought suddenly struck.

‘Attack them?’

First give lots of gifts. Then while their hands are full, strike their heads with the hammer. Quite possible.

The benefits were clear. Police equipment.

But dreaming of perfect scenarios, I forced down the impulse. Didn’t know enough about the overall situation for immediate attack. Needed more info to decide whether to make friends or hunt them for loot.

“So, is the police situation that bad? Haven’t seen police fighting zombies lately.”

“Well…”

The officers hesitated, only speaking slowly after I pressed another retort pouch meal into their hands.

“Many colleagues killed by citizen attacks, infected and turned zombie, killed by zombies… Police have basically lost function. Even us.”

The officers shared their story.

A small police station. Officers disappearing one by one. Finally the few remaining came to the streets to survive.

Like bandits blocking roads to steal food from passersby.

“Be careful. Other police are similar.”

They worriedly shared news of police in other districts.

Some became street gangs, some planned to use armories, some colluded with vigilantes, larger stations even declared themselves district rulers.

Anyway, police shattering like broken pottery was good news.

“There’s a public safety vacuum. Kind people like you are vulnerable.”

“No, police are in more danger. You really have it rough.”

I finished considering then.

These were worth keeping alive. The closest to guns in this ruined city, informants on the powerful government institution that was police, and potential friends with enough means to repay friendship.

Long-term relationship maintenance would be profitable.

‘Collapsed authority isn’t the enemy.’

They weren’t police but fellow outlaws. Plenty of room for friendship. My mental seniors in cartels and mafias didn’t maintain corrupt ties for nothing.

A warm atmosphere flowed between fellow outlaws preying on people.

The officer suddenly moved his hand to his waist. His fingers touched a taser.

“With only weapons like hammers. Please take this at least.”

“Ah, a taser. Less worry about zombies now.”

This was friendship. Friendship blooming in exchanged gifts.

The officer kindly explained.

“Cartridges are single-use, but it works as a stun gun without cartridges.”

“So it works as a stun gun too.”

I already knew. But I made an unfamiliar expression like someone handling a taser for the first time, carefully turning it over.

Then the officer shared expert knowledge.

“The battery can be replaced with regular batteries and-“

How to disassemble the battery part and connect wires to regular batteries? Seemed too hard even knowing how. Wonder if the info was online.

As we chatted pleasantly and exchanged contacts, time to part drew near.

“Let’s help each other. Contact us anytime.”

“Yes, see you again.”

I watched the officers wave and walk away. Probably off to rob some other easy target.

Their appearance wasn’t entirely peaceful.

They checked surroundings excessively, diving behind trees or lights in panic at any car sound.

The robber who invaded the former believer’s home, us who robbed that robber, police taking our resources. Even police seemingly at the top of the food chain were someone’s prey.

This wasn’t even survival of the fittest.

Everyone died equally to ambush, arson, guns, poison, virus terrorism, zombie lures, traffic accidents. No true strong ones.

To survive in this world where everyone attacked everyone…

I turned away at that point.

“Police are gone. Come out.”

“They gone? Hm. Our Kim Da-in’s quite sociable. I couldn’t talk with police.”

The two thieves who’d ghosted away while I chatted with police emerged from the building. Do-hyung sighed with a pale face.

“What a shock… What kind of police rob citizens?”

“In a world where citizens attack police, police can rob citizens too.”

I looked at Do-hyung like he was strange. Wasn’t it unfair to just let people attack you?

We returned to the villa with heavy bags.

A world approached where theft was a basic skill.

In a city producing no essential survival resources, with dried up logistics, taking from others was the only way to survive.

We vividly saw those scenes while walking.

“Can’t tell zombies from humans…”

Park Yang-gun spoke in a low voice.

Both zombies and humans wandered seeking food to fill their bellies. Convenience stores were long emptied, and even occupied homes became targets.

The difference between zombies and humans was specialized tool use.

“A ladder?”

While zombies only broke and climbed through reachable first floor windows, humans used ladders to target second floor homes. Fortunately, they lagged behind our raider group.

We had Park Yang-gun – professional thief, master of lies, expert pipe climber. Any floor, any closed door opened to his hands.

Do-hyung stamped his feet.

“That’s our villa, right? Shouldn’t we do something?”

He was right. A ladder against our villa’s second floor. The wide open window and empty ladder clearly showed thieves had broken in.

Of course no need to worry.

“Why rush? We already emptied the other units anyway.”

I agreed with Park Yang-gun’s calm words. No reason for anxiety. We’d already moved essential supplies to our own units.

And if I remembered right, that unit only held corpses. Zombie corpses and resident corpses.

“Why are there corpses in the house!”

Just then we saw the ladder-climbing thief emerge from the window in panic. Seems the corpses scared them.

This was our chance. Chance to punish someone who dared invade our villa.

I immediately ran over and kicked down the ladder. Ahhhhh, screams traced a parabola to the ground. Though a second floor fall wasn’t fatal, the thief writhed in pain while struggling to stand.

“What the hell! Why’d you do that when someone’s here!”

“The thief- no, intruder talks too much.”

Calling them a thief would insult my companions. I hastily changed words, but they jumped up with a reddened face.

“Why am I a thief! I’m family! Just checking the house since contact was lost!”

“Using a ladder?”

“What else could I do when I couldn’t reach the owner! Couldn’t open the door!”

…Really family? No, such facts didn’t matter. Either way they were a robber invading our building. An enemy with ill will. Left alive they might return at night to start fires.

Preemptive measures were needed for our safety. Best defense, offense.

Bang!

The hammer struck their head. Then I spoke loudly as if to neighbors watching from windows.

“What family. That’s my house.”

It was my house now anyway.