—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Zaped
—————————————————————–
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The “Hive” consisted of a 20-story hotel and six 15-story apartment buildings surrounding it.
The seven buildings were separate yet connected, thanks to skybridges linking the hotel and the apartments.
The bridges were poorly constructed, made of metal plates, scaffolding, and wooden planks, giving them a ramshackle appearance.
Without people or cargo passing over them, the bridges swayed in the wind, and although they had handrails of sorts, no one seemed to use them.
“That looks dangerous,” I remarked.
Camilla shrugged.
“It’s better than walking the streets and risking an encounter with a zombie dog, rat, or cat. The bridges are a safer option.”
The other tall buildings in Hampton were similar.
Lower floors used rope and wood for construction, while the upper floors were reinforced with metal plates, pipes, and H-beams.
But the Hive was different.
Both its lower and upper levels were equally well-built.
Though everything swayed in the wind, it was certainly safer than planks thrown over a net.
“Why’s that? Is it because the wind hits harder on the upper floors, so they needed stronger materials?”
“No. It’s because the upper floors house the rich. The lower floors are for the poor, while the rich live higher up where the chance of encountering zombies is lower. But even those people can’t compare to the ones over there.”
Camilla pointed beyond the city skyline, but the view was obscured by other tall buildings.
“There’s another wall over there, both aboveground and underground. They have separate electrical and water systems, and soldiers guard the area 24/7. Apparently, that was the original Hampton.”
“And this?”
“This is still Hampton. It used to be a major city in southern Elza. Before the zombie crisis, about half a million people lived here. After the Human Protection Zone was declared, people forcibly relocated from unprotected areas flocked here, and now the estimated population is between 700,000 and 800,000.”
The sight was unrecognizable compared to what I remembered.
I’d already come to terms with the fact that I’d landed in a timeline before the world fell apart, so I often struggled when familiar locations looked vastly different.
But Hampton was completely different.
The Hampton I remembered was a wasteland.
Buildings were reduced to rubble from bombing.
Zombies lurked, ready to bite at exposed ankles.
Gangs sniped at players ambushed by zombies, and rival players lay in wait near escape routes to deliver the final blow—a hellscape of horrors.
But this Hampton was a functioning city.
Buildings stood intact, electricity and water flowed, and even though the services weren’t available 24/7, there was still light and running toilets.
Fortunately, Camilla was well-versed in city life.
The Liberation Fighters’ main activity revolved around the Human Protection Zones—the villages and cities.
They only ventured into unprotected zones when absolutely necessary.
Camilla, in particular, specialized in disruption, intelligence gathering, and building communication networks rather than combat.
She knew all about forging identities, disguises, deception, and trickery.
“There are other black markets besides the Hive. Hampton’s a big city. But there’s no place quite like the Hive.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because the Hive has order. A crime syndicate governs it. They’re called the Syndicate—a violent gang in cahoots with the Elza government. They’re filthy scum who do the dirty work the National Gendarmerie won’t, but at least they maintain order as they commit their atrocities.”
“Ha. What are the others like, then?”
“They commit atrocities just for the sake of it.”
To summarize, the Hive was a massive hotel complex and a giant traditional marketplace in Hampton.
True to its urban nature, the Hive had electricity, gas, and water running throughout.
Additionally, it boasted a closed communication network and a trade bulletin board.
Vendors would rent hotel rooms and post listings like, “Room X at Building Y has such-and-such items.”
Buyers interested in their goods would knock on their door to haggle.
To deter theft, all visitors to the Hive were allowed to carry and use firearms.
Whether someone ended up with a bullet hole in their head or immediately gunned down their buyer upon entry was up to them. However, if any damage occurred to the buildings, Syndicate members would step in and ensure “everything was restored to its original state.”
It wasn’t just traveling merchants who used the Hive.
It also served as affordable housing for outsiders like us, homeless people, and poor folks hoping to make it big in Hampton.
Since we’d be staying here for a few days while conducting some barter trades, we needed to register both for lodging and as vendors.
“But how will we know what’s broken?”
“…We’ll find out when we get there.”
Following Camilla, I stepped into the central hotel lobby.
The entrances to the other apartment buildings were sealed, only to be opened in emergencies.
The hotel lobby resembled a massive PC cafe.
Rows of computers and monitors were laid out in an open space, and people sat tapping away at keyboards and mice. The only difference was the gun racks on the desks.
“What are they doing?”
“Those? They’re probably Hampton citizens browsing the marketplace for items they need before heading back.”
The presence of gun racks made it clear that Hampton’s residents were also armed.
However, they stored their rifles in cases, carrying only pistols openly.
“The Elza government is amazing, really. They abandoned their duty to protect citizens from zombies but granted them the freedom and right to protect themselves. No wonder people call this survival of the fittest.”
“Adapt or die?”
“That’s the original meaning, but here it’s more like, ‘The longer you survive, the more losses you take.’ Taxes, utility bills, and even the cost of bullets—how does anyone live?”
The counter was split into two sections: the left for those using only the marketplace and the right for those needing lodging.
“Welcome to the Continental Hotel,” a hip-looking, chubby man greeted us warmly.
Two AK-47s lay on his desk.
A notice that read, “Please treat the staff with respect. They are someone’s beloved family. Or not.” stood out prominently.
“Are you familiar with our rules?” the man asked, handing us some forms.
“We are,” Camilla answered, filling out my form as well.
“How long will you be staying?”
“Two to three days. Let’s say three for now.”
“Will you be paying for your stay or staying for free?”
“We’ll pay.”
Though free sounded better to me, Camilla didn’t hesitate to say she’d pay.
There had to be a reason.
“Will you be using the marketplace? If so, are you buying, selling, or both?”
“We’ll use it, for both. One room, with two single beds.”
The man nodded, handing us a key, a printout titled “Continental Hotel Usage Guidelines,” and a laptop.
The Wi-Fi password for the internal network was written in bold letters.
“One last question. Each room has CCTV installed. Since you’re paying, the cameras will remain off, but for your safety, they may be activated without prior notice. Do you agree to this condition?”
I was about to object, but Camilla discreetly gestured for me to let her handle it.
“We agree,” she said.
“Then enjoy your stay. You can pick up a cart on the left.”
The man’s gold tooth gleamed as he smiled.
We loaded our luggage onto a cart and wheeled it toward our room, 2nd building, Room 306.
We had to cross two skybridges to get there.
The skybridges turned out sturdier than expected, though they creaked and groaned unsettlingly.
“Why did you choose to pay for the stay?” I asked.
Camilla blushed, but I discovered the reason upon entering the second building.
“Aah! Ugh! Oh! Ah!”
“Harder! Harder! Ah, yes! Ughhh!”
As soon as we stepped inside, the air was filled with explicit moaning. The apartment had zero soundproofing. Even the cheapest boarding houses I’d stayed in had better insulation.
“Down, down, you bastard, down!”
“Shut up.”
Elsewhere, someone’s video game blared noisily, followed by a shout, “Die, you bastard!” Then, bang!
At the end of the hallway, a bell rang.
Camilla gestured for me to step aside. Two people in hazmat suits pushed a cart carrying two corpses.
“These aren’t zombies. No need to worry,” they assured us.
“…What is all this?” I asked in disbelief.
Camilla offered a wry smile.
“City life.”
We pushed our cart into the room.
After unlocking the door, the first thing we did was change the passcode.
The room was small, like an apartment.
It had a living room, two bedrooms, and one bathroom.
The living room had a sofa and a table, both stained with old blood.
But the noise was relentless.
“Ah. Ah. More, ah, yes. Damn it, ah…”
Bang! Bang! Thud.
“The Elza government has announced an indefinite extension of its cabinet members’ terms to address the ongoing zombie crisis…”
Everything—TV, sex noises, arguments—blared through the thin
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
