Marauder of the Apocalypse-Chapter 44: Military

Back home.

In my room darkened by a blackout, I sat in my chair staring into space. The newly appeared military was making my head spin.

My fingers drummed rapidly on the desk.

'Let's start with suspicion.'

Suspicious signs felt even without direct words.

They said they approached as neighbors to avoid risk. Conversely, it could mean they'd absorb survivors and evolve into warlords if there wasn't fierce resistance.

The military's reputation building by sharing scarce food, promises and advertising about eliminating zombies, long-term benefits and vision of farming.

This too felt like groundwork.

"There were similar cases among role models."

Like vigilante groups formed to fight drug cartels evolving into new drug cartels.

This military could change similarly. Even starting with citizen safety and friendly neighbors as slogans, they could corrupt anytime. Just look at police becoming gangs.

The soldier's face flashed in my mind.

'Though mentally unstable, they seemed well-fed.'

A group that survived eating remaining supplies, avoided hunger thanks to naturally reduced numbers, hadn't properly experienced the apocalypse where I killed to survive.

What would they do when food ran short? Wouldn't they develop the same fierce determination as street survivors?

Wearing these suspicious glasses made everything look dubious. I slowly recalled the commander's words.

'Roads blocked... What about the sky? Helicopters or transport planes? They must have some pilots?'

The commander hadn't spoken honestly about everything. He hid himself with lies.

I recalled a Chinese idiom.

The good don't come, those who come aren't good.

If military forces deliberately came to the city center, they surely weren't good. My mind felt clearer.

'Right, military moving only now. They have a purpose.'

A simple purpose. Dwindling food. Commercial resources and farming labor. Desperate struggle to survive.

Peeling away the military packaging revealed a simple structure. A survivor group competing for city resources. A dangerous group with powerful force and potential for expansion.

Such groups...

"Better not exist."

My fingers stopped. I slowly clenched my fist.

Not just any group but military. I couldn't join them. Re-enlist? Wear uniforms again? Ridiculous. I'd rather go to prison.

Better to live like now than work, receive rations, and be controlled under military rule. Living freely, simply, raiding. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

I smiled while slowly writing a scenario. Ways to harass the military. Attack infrastructure, waste their resources by drawing zombies and survivors to them, cause soldier-survivor conflicts, worsen public perception.

Like the military's groundwork, I needed groundwork too.

The first step was doomsday theory.

'Doomsday theory that becomes truth the moment the military makes one mistake.'

I randomly interpreted the apocalypse to frame the military.

The white horseman of pestilence spread the I-virus, now the red horseman of war comes with guns.

In summer the black horseman of famine will come, causing water to backflow from broken sewers, ruining all farming and resources to create starvation. This military not only kills with guns but came to plunder city resources to aid famine.

This wore the mask of doomsday theory but was a metaphorical warning not to trust the military.

I kept writing against the darkness.

'How will people react seeing the military take all remaining mart resources after clearing zombies? What if accidents happen? If soldiers kill survivors? If photos spread of starved infected soldiers?'

The military was powerful. I decided to work behind the scenes.

New Age Doomsday! I-virus, Military and Famine!

Recruitment Notice.

A plausible doomsday theory and fake recruitment ad pretending to be military. False information I sent through city residents' messenger.

People who came seeking the advertised safe housing and plentiful food would be rejected by the military, or if accepted would harbor ill will over exaggerated promises.

Better if accidental shootings happened too.

"..."

I smiled brightly while focusing on daily life. Even simple labor felt fun, perhaps from secretly doing bad things.

---

Thud!

"What garbage."

The drainage ditch with wire mesh removed. Full of leaves, dirt, cigarette butts, insects, all kinds of trash. I silently retrieved garbage with gloved hands and tongs.

"Ugh. Never done work like this. Really filthy. I only did comfortable work, can't handle this."

Gi-hyeok working with me backed away shuddering. I glanced at him.

"We need to prepare for heavy summer rains."

"Rainy season's far off. Couldn't we do this slower?"

He really seemed to hate it. Of course, Gi-hyeok's opinion didn't matter. Who knew when or how much rain would fall. With government collapsed, natural disasters were true catastrophes - no amount of preparation was enough.

I playfully told my criminal companion:

"Want to become a scarecrow instead?"

"...That's a joke? Right?"

"Just kidding."

Why make valuable manpower into scarecrows? Scarecrows recycled corpses - not worth killing people to make. Better to make them zombies as virus generators.

Gi-hyeok looked at me suspiciously.

"Can't tell if you're serious or joking..."

"More importantly, you really never served in the military?"

"No, well..."

Really never served? That lowered his usefulness.

I'd considered how to get Gi-hyeok to approach the military, but it seemed impossible. Couldn't ask Park Yang-gun to steal guns either.

'Need to start with small tricks. Slowly chip away at trust, faith, things like that.'

As we cleaned the drainage, heavy footsteps faintly approached. Loud voices briefly echoed.

Signs of many people moving.

"What's that?"

Gi-hyeok and I carefully left the villa street and saw soldiers walking a short distance away.

Soldiers in full combat gear - guns, ammo belts, gas masks, ballistic helmets - marched in formation down the street.

We approached curiously.

"Wow. Impressive. Maybe since I never served, but seeing that stuff looks cool somehow."

Gi-hyeok spouted nonsense and the marching soldiers glanced at us irritably. He definitely didn't match with the military.

I quickly looked for NCOs or officers and spotted the commander from before.

His eyes were extremely tense.

"Going to clear zombies?"

This wasn't the atmosphere of distribution or market establishment. Similar to the military facing real situations like North Korean provocations.

I casually approached the commander. Whether from not being raided like police or trusting military strength, they didn't seem very wary of survivors like me.

"Ah, saw you before."

What? I hadn't said anything then? Why remember me? Subtle threat that they'd already gathered city residents' information?

I controlled my expression and asked questions like a curious citizen.

"Yes, hello. Just wondering where you're headed."

The commander briefly slowed his pace, gestured others ahead, and adjusted his gun strap.

"Promised to clear zombies, didn't we? Planning to start with marts."

Attack large marts? I quickly studied the commander's face. Complexion of someone who hadn't slept well. Couldn't tell if they were urgent from depleted resources or simply acting for publicity.

"Yes, must be tough. Had to march here since roads are blocked?"

"Yes. Given obstacles citizens set up, couldn't clear everything. Took transport vehicles as close as possible, moving on foot now."

The commander sighed deeply like exhausted, needlessly gripping and releasing his gun repeatedly.

Then as if hesitating, he carefully asked me:

"Have you fought zombies?"

"Zombies..."

I searched my memories. Had I fought zombies? Felt like I remembered fighting people more.

Right. Hope Community. Bravely defended against waves. Some other minor fights too.

"Yes..."

Soldiers were still passing. I deliberately raised my voice and lowered my head.

"Zombies are people too. I killed to survive but... They were someone's father, mother, son, daughter, friend."

Come on, lower morale. I poured out words like a curse, instantly darkening the soldiers' and commander's faces.

"Met a mother recently. Wandering looking for her zombie son. Wonder if I killed her son. Just, my heart..."

"No, it's fine. More importantly, any tips for fighting zombies?"

When I spoke universally relatable truth, the commander hastily changed subject.

"We've done research, gathered information, but still feels lacking. Any know-how?"

"Well. Best not to fight."

This was truth. Fighting zombies wasn't good. If fighting, had to exterminate them. Prevent learning experiences.

I needlessly looked around. Saw machine guns carried by several sweating soldiers working together, nothing else.

"No artillery or tanks?"

"Can't use them. No, equipment works fine. But destroying buildings would bury resources inside too. Forced into infantry combat without artillery support."

True. What good was bombarding collapsed marts? Food would be buried too.

Rock paper scissors came to mind. Soldiers who could erase civilians with overwhelming firepower, zombies forcing unfavorable conditions on soldiers, civilians defeating zombies.

The commander turned away then.

"Well, we'll go. Thanks for talking."

"Yes..."

The commander quickly walked to rejoin the distant formation. I slowly followed.

"Gi-hyeok, let's watch."

"Sure. Never seen military combat before."

Me neither. Real combat. Must be first time for those soldiers and officers too.

Many came to watch. Various people gathered on streets overlooking the mart.

The police captain looked tense seeing well-armed soldiers, while others watched with different gleams in their eyes.

I approached the police captain. Pressing binoculars to his eyes watching the military, he briefly glanced at me and waved vaguely.

"Villa street. Here to watch?"

"Yes. It's close. Why the binoculars?"

"Gotta watch everything closely. Looks like they're setting up command post over there. See civilian collaborators too. Think they'll use drones."

Then a voice spoke:

"We provided those. Let them borrow drones in exchange for charging."

The electrical nomad I'd seen before. Seemed they were still moving seeking electricity, looking for opportunities here too.

"Got another drone here. Want to use it? Just let us charge later."

"Can we see the feed right away?"

"Yes. Can watch on laptop."

Though I'd planned to just observe the atmosphere from afar, unexpectedly got a chance to watch directly. Everyone nodded curiously and the nomad quickly set up various devices - phone, laptop, etc.

"If gunfire breaks the drone you'll need to compensate."

"How much food you thinking?"

"No. Don't need food, just let us charge."

Were they robots? Living on electricity? First time seeing someone so obsessed with power.

Thanks to them we could spy on the battlefield. The soldiers spent a long time setting up machine guns aimed at the mart entrance, scouting with drones, before finally moving in.

A company entering the mart wearing gas masks.

"Launching."

The drone flew.

Clear images appeared on the laptop. Following the nomad's slow control movements, the drone approached and passed through broken mart windows.

"...Shredder."

No sound, but the camera provided clear footage.

Swarming zombies getting shredded. Different firepower from pistols. Didn't even need machine guns.

When infantry depleted magazines they retreated to the entrance, where waiting machine guns shredded zombies that rushed out.

The police captain laughed excitedly.

"That's right. Waste it all. Supplies must be low. Use all your ammo on zombies and you'll be scarecrows too."

His gleeful voice was barely audible under the loud gunfire reaching us.

The battlefield gradually changed.

Zombies fled the entrance, escaping upstairs. No more approached the entrance.

Eventually infantry chased zombies up, and casualties started occurring.

The watchers' expressions hardened.

A zombie playing dead among corpses suddenly rose behind a soldier and buried an axe in his neck. Attacked squads that had emptied magazines. Sometimes cheerfully walking child zombies approached and soldiers couldn't bring themselves to shoot.

Accidental shootings happened too. Soldiers shooting squadmates.

'...Military's weaker than expected.'

Not many soldiers left anyway. Limited ammo too. No way they could reclaim the city. No, they couldn't handle all the zombies.

I looked to the distance. The command post.

In this situation, wouldn't they target survivors who were easier to deal with than zombies? Since they could threaten or persuade them.

'They really are enemies.'