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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Zaped
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The 2.5-ton truck was loaded with cargo from the country club.
We moved the heavy and bulky items together, but after that, we divided the tasks.
Camilla insisted that “it’s better for one person to organize things.”
While she moved the items, I prepared the food, familiarized myself with the safe house, and set up a tent in each of the two cleanest rooms.
All tedious and time-consuming tasks.
First, I needed to make stew, so I took the portable gas burner and pot to the first floor.
It was difficult to cook in the poorly ventilated basement.
I filled the pot with rainwater, still pouring down, placed it on the burner, and went back downstairs.
Next, I inspected the safe house.
The facilities themselves were good.
Plumbing, electricity, piping, even ventilation – everything was in place.
The problem was that it all relied on electricity.
Who would have imagined a fire station losing power?
Fortunately, there was space for a small generator in the innermost room.
Generators sometimes emitted toxic fumes, so installation and maintenance required caution.
If I cut the fire station’s power lines and connected them to the generator, powering the safe house shouldn’t be a problem.
While I was considering other options, Camilla walked past the hallway.
‘When did she change?’
She was wearing pink sweatpants with white stripes, a tank top, and work gloves, carrying two 5.56mm ammo cans.
“Whew.”
Wooden crates were laid out on the warehouse floor.
Each crate was designed to hold two ammo cans, so she must have carried them separately because they were bulky and heavy.
Even so, she set down the ammo cans as lightly as if they were 1kg dumbbells.
They weren’t that light.
Well, seeing her toned physique, it wasn’t entirely unbelievable.
The slender waist between the tank top and pants, the erector spinae muscles rippling with every movement, the way her back arched and her buttocks lifted with each breath, deepening the curve between her waist and hips.
And I was caught staring.
Camilla stuck her butt out towards me, and our eyes met.
“What?”
“Ahem.Much left to move?”
“I can handle it myself. Oh, the pot’s boiling.”
“Really? Okay, I’ll go up.”
As I started up the stairs, Camilla suddenly emerged from the next room.
“Johan?”
I inadvertently glanced at the V-shaped dip between her breasts, then quickly met her eyes.
But the image of the sweat beading on her exposed skin lingered.
Seeing Camilla trying to suppress a smile, I realized I’d been caught twice.
“Are you going to set up the tents in separate rooms?”
“Yeah. One in your room, one in mine.”
“Let’s just set up one for now. We don’t know how the luggage will be organized. We can set up the other one after dinner. I’m hungry.”
She could have just asked.
She suddenly moved closer and squeezed my right buttock.
“Ow! Ow!”
It hurt so much I thought she was trying to rip it off.
“Okay? Thanks.”
She pecked my cheek and sashayed down the hallway, her hips swaying slightly.
Dinner, or rather, a late lunch/early dinner, was ready.
I’d made a large portion.
I was as hungry as Camilla looked.
I used ingredients I’d prepped from the country club’s refrigerator.
They were packed with ice packs, so they were still fresh.
Chopped vegetables, bell peppers, tomato puree, sliced cheese, and a baguette.
I didn’t add jerky, but I did add sliced mushrooms.
The earthy, woodsy scent filled the air.
And the star of the show: whiskey.
Camilla popped the cork.
It was a brand called “Elza’s Tears,” a local whiskey.
“This feels like a vacation!”
Even though we were in the basement, being inside the dome tent felt like camping.
Changing into sweatpants added to the feeling.
“Here’s to another one!”
I wasn’t much of a drinker, but the alcohol here tasted sweet and went down smoothly.
It must be the game’s influence.
It would be even better without the hangover, but “Elza’s Tears” was known for its mild side effects.
As a product of the small nation of Elza, it had low commercial value, but its high alcohol content, rich aroma, and clean taste made it effective for boosting morale, relieving pain, and calming fear and anxiety.
Even if you were dropped in the middle of a hundred zombies, one sip of this, and you could face a peaceful death, thinking, ‘Ah, I’ve lived a good life.’
We talked about what happened at the resort hotel while eating stew and drinking.
After a long night, we headed to the main building.
There weren’t as many zombies as we’d expected, but corpses were everywhere.
The gang members seemed to have chosen mass suicide, their defeat imminent and the flock of birds descending.
Their leader, “The Judge,” was no exception.
When we entered his office, he was sitting upright in a fancy chair, dressed in his judge’s robes.
But we’d never know his expression.
He’d blown his brains out with a shotgun held upside down.
He must have been a disciplined man, because he was still holding the gun when we entered.
We found some decent loot in his office, including a laptop with various accessories.
The battery was low, but it was intact and functional.
“I used to use the internet a lot. But the National Guard would show up if I used it for anything suspicious.”
Camilla caressed the laptop nostalgically.
“And now?”
“The government shut down the entire network to suppress rumors. Everything went back to the past. Domestic calls are randomly monitored, and international calls are always tapped. Letters and packages are X-rayed, and all information is provided only through government-issued newspapers, radio, and TV. You know, the main mission of Liberation members in the city wasn’t fighting, but procuring printing presses, ink, and paper for propaganda materials?”
Even so, I took the laptop.
In the distant future, when the apocalypse I knew arrived, black market traders communicated through private networks.
As long as the communication infrastructure remained, some rebellious geek would eventually get it working, and communication wouldn’t be a problem.
We also took two gold bars, some small jewels, a box of premium cigars, and, of course, more “Elza’s Tears.”
All that was left was to sweep the building for any useful equipment.
The resort was large, and there was plenty to take, but due to vehicle and manpower limitations, we couldn’t take everything.
Our haul was limited to what we could fit in the relatively clean 2.5-ton truck.
“Wouldn’t it be better to stay a few more days and load everything onto the bus?”
Camilla suggested, but I disagreed.
“We’re safe for today, but the zombies will disperse tomorrow, and then looters will come. It’ll be hard for the two of us to defend this place. And let’s leave the bus for those people. I gave them the number, so they can call when they find a working phone.”
“Those people” were, of course, the people Camilla had rescued.
Touched by my words, Camilla hugged me tightly for a long time.
“You’re a better person than you look.”
The qualifier “than you look” stung a little, but I was a good person.
After all, I hadn’t said, ‘That bright yellow school bus is visible to a zombie grandpa from 10km away. You’ll be sniped before you know it. And you can’t even hide it in a warehouse.’
By the same logic, we decided to leave the 1-ton truck behind.
Two clean trucks parked side-by-side would arouse suspicion.
In this world, being inconspicuous was more important than having strong defenses.
Still, we’d taken quite a bit.
Off the top of my head, two months’ worth of canned food with a five-year shelf life, three months’ worth with a three-year shelf life.
Enough to survive for five months even after a nuclear apocalypse.
Four guns and various ammunition, two dome tents, camp beds, blankets, a toolbox, medicine, spare clothes…
Including the sweatpants I was wearing, and Camilla’s black sports bra, gray dolphin shorts, and thin fluorescent hoodie…?
“C – Camilla? ”
“Yeees?”
“When did you change?”
It wasn’t quite magical girl level, but how did she change so fast?
Camilla giggled and shook her head.
“Are you drunk? I said I’d change since it’s hot, so I did.”
“No, zip up that hoodie. You’re too…”
“Too…?”
I blushed, embarrassed, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her toned abs.
“Too what? What are you going to do about it? Huh!”
“You look like an ahjussi.” (middle-aged man)
“Hmph. Ahjussi? Ahjussiii?”
Camilla crawled towards me like a cat.
I tried to back away, but the alcohol had weakened me.
I stumbled backwards and landed on a rolled-up blanket.
“Have you ever seen such a pretty ahjussi?”
She stuck out her tongue, lowered her upper body, pushed up her hips, and swayed them suggestively, as if deliberately showing off the curve between her waist and buttocks.
I was sure it could hold water.
“This is uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable!”
She pounced on me, her right arm covering my chest and her hand on my shoulder, her right leg draped over my lower body.
“If it’s uncomfortable, you have to fix your positiooon!”
Her words were slurred as she rubbed her bare leg against my thigh.
“I get it, so stop rubbing your leg!”
“Isn’t it getting haaard?”
I tried to push her off, but she was surprisingly strong.
“Camilla. This is really uncomfortable… physically uncomfortable.”
I was a little drunk too, so it shouldn’t matter.
What was strange was Camilla’s reaction.
She glanced at my groin, hiccuped twice, stared at me like a startled rabbit, and then sighed deeply.
“…I’m screwed.”
“What?”
“I’m screwed. Huh. I’m screwed. What am I going to do? What am I going to dooo?”
She grabbed my collar and shook me.
I felt physically and mentally shaken.
“W, what do you mean?”
“My heart is racing.”
There was no need to add a sniffle and a slightly nasal tone.
Camilla’s face crumpled.
“You jerk. My heart is racing. You, you shouldn’t do this. Do you know? What makes you so great, huh? Who do you think you are?”
“I, uh…”
She grabbed my collar and shook me again as soon as I answered.
I saw three Camillas.
Judging by the bumps on her chest, she wasn’t wearing a bra again.
But at least she had pants on this time.
“You should have just not seen me as a woman! If this is because I’m not attractive, then fine! It hurts my pride, but! But you, you… no. That can’t be it! I’m pretty!”
“…You’re pretty.”
Objectively, she was.
“You’re pretty.”
As soon as I said it, she sighed dramatically.
“…But. I want to get closer to you. I want to know you better… why are you pushing me away? It’s not like you hate me. And you don’t not see me as a woman. And my charm is, well, hmm… oh, wow. Hmm. Anyway. And you’re not completely selfish… so why are you pushing me away?”
“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?”
Instead of answering, Camilla reached for the whiskey and took a long swig.
She sighed again and rubbed her chest against mine.
“No, no. This isn’t it. Bread. Bread.”
She munched on the bread, and as if regaining some composure, her eyes focused.
She was still leaning against me, though, and when crumbs fell on my clothes, she declared it a waste and licked them off.
“…I told you. I need courage. Entering the protected human zone requires a lot of courage. Even more so now that I can’t rely on the Liberation Front. We’ll have to go through a broker, so it’s really life-or-death. It’ll be fine once we’re in, but that first step… is really difficult. But.”
“But?”
She climbed onto me and hugged my neck.
Her position seemed a little precarious, so I wrapped my arms around her waist.
“You have to trust me too. But that’s… the hardest thing for you, isn’t it? No matter how much I ask, you won’t. If you abandon me there… I’ll die. For real.”
…Contacting the black market in this timeline seemed much more dangerous than I’d thought.
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bro is definetly a bottom