Harem Apocalypse: My Seed is the Cure?!-Chapter 238: Summer Time [5]

Fighting ordinary Infected had become such an ingrained habit over the past three months that the act now felt almost automatic.

They were so stupid and predictable that combat against them had evolved into something almost routine for me. Their movements followed the same brainless patterns every single time: shambling forward with arms outstretched, attempting to grab and bite with zero awareness or ability to adapt to changing circumstances.

It was almost like I could see the future during these encounters because their behavior was so completely consistent and devoid of variation. Every Infected telegraphed its intentions with obvious body language, making their attacks trivially easy to anticipate and counter.

Though there were roughly a dozen of them scattered throughout the corridor and all theoretically converging on my position, they approached in a disorganized shambles—coming at me individually or in pairs at most, creating perfect opportunities for isolated engagement rather than presenting any kind of coordinated threat.

They were easy targets for someone with my enhanced capabilities and accumulated experience.

I killed them, one by one, immediately going for head strikes without hesitation or wasted movement. I didn’t wait for them to fully close distance or create dangerous situations—I simply moved forward aggressively, met each Infected on my own terms, and executed killing blows with brutal efficiency.

My hand axe rose and fell in a steady rhythm, each swing precisely calibrated to sever spinal columns, crush skulls, or separate heads from bodies entirely.

Blood sprayed across the floor with each successful strike, creating expanding pools and splatter patterns that marked my advance through the corridor like some kind of macabre breadcrumb trail.

Within just a minute or two at most of continuous engagement, I was completely done. The corridor behind me was littered with Infected corpses in various states of dismemberment, none of them moving or presenting any further threat.

I paused a bit waving my axe letting a trail of blood spatter across the tiles.

Then I wiped the accumulated blood coating my hand axe’s blade on the clothes of one of the headless Infected corpses at my feet, cleaning the weapon as best I could.

Then I turned around carefully to visually confirm that every single Infected I’d engaged was genuinely dead rather than just temporarily incapacitated to avoid what happened earlier with Summer.

Once I’d satisfied myself that the corridor was secure and all threats had been permanently neutralized, I turned my attention toward the shoe store where Summer had taken refuge.

She was standing just inside the glass door, staring out at the field of corpses I’d created with an expression of profound shock on her face. Her green eyes were wide, and her mouth hung slightly open as if she was struggling to process what she’d just witnessed.

I approached the storefront and knocked on the glass door she’d closed and barricaded behind her.

She flinched a bit at the sound despite clearly seeing me approach, then hurriedly began moving away the chairs she’d wedged under the door handle.

A moment later she pulled the door open just wide enough for me to slip inside.

Once I’d entered, she immediately closed it again behind me and replaced the chairs in their blocking position.

I raised my flashlight, sweeping the beam across the store’s interior to get a sense of the space.

Here, there was no natural light penetrating from outside—no windows or skylights to illuminate the darkness. We were operating in near-total blackness broken only by our flashlight beams.

The store looked quite messy and disordered, but there were still numerous shoes displayed on shelves and in bins scattered around the retail space. Inventory that had never been sold or cleared out before the evacuation.

The employees and customers had clearly all left in tremendous hurry when the outbreak reached this area, abandoning merchandise and personal belongings in their panic to escape.

"Are you some kind of superhuman or something?"

I heard Summer muttering from behind me.

"What?" I turned toward her, playing ignorant despite knowing exactly what had prompted the question.

She stared at me with an intense, searching gaze.

"You took down more than ten Infected completely alone," she said slowly. "I mean, you didn’t even hesitate or flinch during the entire fight. The way you moved through them looked like something from an action movie...."

"I just swung my axe at their heads," I said, downplaying it while showing her the sharp blade of my hand axe as if that simple tool explained everything. "Sharp weapon plus vulnerable target equals dead Infected. Basic mathematics."

"It absolutely didn’t look that simple from where I was watching," she said immediately, not accepting my dismissive explanation. "You moved way too fast—reacting to threats before they’d even fully arrived. And you ran faster than anyone I’ve ever seen, and the strength behind your strikes was clearly abnormal..."

She trailed off, her suspicious gaze intensifying.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," I said, looking away and shifting my flashlight beam to examine the store’s merchandise. "I’m just a survivor who’s gotten good at killing Infected through practice."

"Only a complete suicidal maniac would throw himself into fighting more than ten Infected alone when it’s absolutely not necessary," she said bluntly. "No rational person with normal survival instincts does what you just did."

"It was necessary to clear a safe path to the store," I replied defensively.

"No, it genuinely wasn’t necessary at all," she shot back. "We could have drawn them away by throwing objects to create noise distractions—made them shamble off in a different direction while we slipped past quietly. Or we could have waited for them to disperse naturally. But instead you went straight into direct combat and fought all of them simultaneously, which looks line an insane behavior."

Drawing them away with noise distractions, creating diversions to avoid direct confrontation...

Those had been exactly the kinds of tactics I’d relied on during my early days of fighting Infected—back when I was still struggling with individual creatures and afraid of them even.

I supposed from Summer’s perspective, what I’d just done was clearly abnormal. She was speaking with the mindset of a baseline human survivor, while I’d completely lost touch with what normal capabilities and behavior actually looked like.

Over the past month especially—particularly after everything we’d experienced in Jackson Township fighting Enhanced Infected and Starakian technologies—my sense of what constituted reasonable risk had been recalibrated I suppose.

"I’ve just become extremely used to fighting them," I said, glancing at her while trying to sound casual. "And honestly, it’s better to kill Infected whenever you can rather than leaving them to potentially threaten other survivors later. Wouldn’t you agree with that principle?"

"Yeah... I mean, I didn’t intend my criticism quite like that," she said, her tone softening slightly. "Of course I’d rather see all of them permanently dead rather than shambling around threatening people. But aren’t you genuinely scared of getting bitten? You scolded me earlier for wearing exposed clothing that left me vulnerable, but that’s incredibly hypocritical when you throw yourself directly into their jaws like an absolute madman with no apparent concern for your own safety."

"Did I really look like a madman?" I muttered.

"You looked like a professional killer," she said seriously. "Someone who kills for a living and has done it so many times that human—or Infected—life has lost all meaning. And with that blood-covered axe in your hands and the completely emotionless expression on your face during combat, you honestly looked like a serial killer from a horror movie."

"You’re definitely exaggerating now," I said immediately.

Her lips curved slightly in what might have been amusement at my discomfort, but then she took out her own flashlight and began looking around the store’s merchandise displays thankfully choosing to not to pursue her interrogation.

"What exactly are you looking for?" I asked.

"Shoes," she said simply.

Well, yes, obviously we were in a shoe store, so shoes would be the logical target.

"For yourself?" I asked, walking around and examining the scattered inventory.

"For me and several others back at the community," she explained. "I figured I might as well pick up as many pairs as reasonably possible before leaving, since I’ve already made the dangerous trip here. No point in risking my life for just one pair when there’s plenty of inventory available."

"I seriously doubt they’ll all fit inside your bag," I pointed out, noting the relatively small backpack she was carrying.

"Well, I was initially planning to grab only a single pair for myself and get out quickly," she admitted. "But since I now have a mighty professional killer serving as my bodyguard, I guess I could afford to be a little more ambitious with my scavenging?"

She gave me a clever smile.

"So you’re planning to use me as free muscle and protection, I see," I said, recognizing the strategy.

She just shrugged innocently while continuing to browse the shoe displays, but then she stopped abruptly and turned to face me directly.

Her expression had shifted to something more serious and guarded.

"This whole situation feels kind of weird and suspicious," she said bluntly. "So just tell me honestly—what were you actually doing lurking near our barricade earlier? I can’t fully trust you yet, and that question keeps nagging at the back of my mind. I know you saved my life just now, and I appreciate that genuinely. But I was absolutely certain you were affiliated with Callighan and if you are secretly working with him, then obviously you’d try to kidnap me or force me back to face whatever he has planned."

"Why would I bother kidnapping you if I was actually working with Callighan?" I asked, a bit puzzled. "If I was one of his men and you’d been caught spying near your community’s barricade like you think I was doing, wouldn’t I have just killed you immediately?"

"Yeah, but I’m..." She started to explain, then trailed off abruptly. Her mouth had been forming words, clearly about to reveal something, but she closed it firmly in the end and left the statement incomplete.

"You’re royalty or something?" I asked, half-joking but also genuinely curious about what would make Callighan’s people specifically interested in kidnapping her rather than simply eliminating her.

Why would these murderers—people who hadn’t hesitated to shoot Clara suddenly exercise restraint and careful planning when it came to Summer?

Summer just snorted and smiled at my sarcastic question, before turning back around to continue browsing the shoe inventory.

She didn’t offer any actual explanation for her incomplete statement, and I decided not to push the issue. If she wanted to keep certain information private, that was her right.

The next several minutes passed in relative silence as Summer searched for appropriate shoes among the scattered merchandise.

I also looked around the store somewhat aimlessly, but I didn’t really need any footwear myself. I already had perfectly good boots, sturdy, well-fitted, and broken in enough to be comfortable during extended movement. They’d served me well through three months of apocalyptic conditions and still had plenty of life left in them.

And honestly, I didn’t want to burden myself with carrying multiple bags full of shoes either. I wasn’t here today for that.

"Alright, I believe you," Summer said suddenly, breaking the silence as she finished filling several store shopping bags with selected pairs of shoes.

"You do?" I asked.

"I do believe you, yes," she confirmed, straightening up and meeting my gaze directly. "At least I’m convinced you’re not planning anything suspicious or hostile toward our community. Your story makes sense, and your actions don’t match what I’d expect from one of Callighan’s people."

I hesitated for a moment, then decided honesty was probably the best approach given that she’d extended trust toward me.

"We’re actually trying to establish a settlement here in Atlantic City," I admitted.

Summer raised her gaze with obvious surprise at this revelation. Then her aqua-green eyes widened slightly.

"I see..." She said slowly, processing my words. "That explains why you were clearing Infected near our territorial boundary and examining the area so carefully."

"I’d genuinely appreciate it if you’d keep quiet it," I said. "At least for now, just to avoid creating unnecessary quarrels or tensions with your people. I don’t know if Marlon or your other leaders are already suspicious about our intentions, but we are definitely planning to settle here permanently regardless of any objections. We were simply clearing the area around our chosen location to make it safe. We have no intention of bothering your community or encroaching on your established territory in any way."

"Hm," she nodded slightly, continuing to fill a fourth shopping bag with additional shoes. "I suppose that arrangement seems perfectly fine then. I mean, Atlantic City doesn’t belong exclusively to the Boardwalk Community. This is a huge city with plenty of space for multiple survivor groups. Those who clear and secure a specific area have the legitimate rights to claim ownership of it, at least by the unspoken laws that govern this new world we’re living in."

She was being remarkably understanding and reasonable about the situation.

"Then you’ll actually keep it secret? At least until tomorrow when we’ve finished our preparations?" I asked, wanting explicit confirmation.

"If you help me carry all these bags back safely, then yes, I’ll keep your settlement plans confidential," she said with a slight smile, extending two of the heavy shopping bags full of shoes toward me.

"Deal, then," I said, grasping the two bags by their plastic handles.

Was she trying to gift her whole community?

Whatever, let’s get out of here.