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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Simzy
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Eight human zombies emerged from the bushes. But their posture was peculiar. Instead of standing upright, they lowered their bodies as if trying to walk on all fours. Their necks were stretched forward, and drools dripped from their clenched mouths.
From among them, a large dog emerged. Judging by the hideous lump of flesh welling up in a long gash on its flank, it seemed that it, too, was a zombie. It looked like a Rottweiler or a similar breed.
The one at the front of the pack was also drooling. But it didn’t rashly step forward. It just watched the noisy village silently, slowly lowering its posture.
It was a posture preparing for an attack.
The human zombies also waited, in the same posture as the dog. One human zombie, seemingly unable to hold back any longer, clashed its teeth together, and another zombie gave it a slight shove. It seemed to be a sign to restrain itself.
Just as a human takes dogs on a hunt, the zombie dog was preparing for a hunt with the human zombies.
In a normal situation, they would have been discovered quickly. Even if they had come out from between the weeds, they were still standing in the middle of the hill.
But that foolish man and woman, along with the other people, were distracted by the alarm bell, the warning sound of the megaphone, and the gunshots that had started to sound from the opposite side of the village.
A feint to the east to attack the west. A method of making one side noisy to draw attention and then striking the other. A cunning tactic.
Camilla had already mounted the scope on her sniper rifle. She got into position and shouldered it. But she didn’t fire.
“Johan. What should we do?”
The villagers, including that man and woman, had already fallen for the zombies’ strategy. Since they had firearms, not all of them would be taken down, but they would suffer considerable damage.
On the other hand, our position was quite good. We were well hidden, and our bicycles were nearby. If things got disadvantageous, we could just leave.
And with our shooting skills, we could take down those zombies without much difficulty.
But what then? How would those humans react?
All humans are suspicious. As long as we were in an unprotected zone and not a protected one, it was more reasonable to see them as potential enemies. And I would not trust anyone other than Camilla and Cassandra.
So there was only one thing to think about in this situation. What action would bring us the greatest benefit right now?
I took a handkerchief out of my pocket. It was damp from wiping sweat with it several times on the way here. I put it under my shirt and wiped my body more thoroughly.
“Camilla. Cover me.”
I put down the M4 rifle and picked up a stone from the ground, wrapping it with the handkerchief.
“What are you doing?”
Camilla asked, disgusted.
“We have to get out of here. But if we leave now, there’s a high chance we’ll be spotted. By zombies or humans. I don’t like either.”
“So?”
“I’m going to make both sides busy. And run a little test while I’m at it. If it doesn’t work, we’ll just hide tight and run away when things calm down.”
Camilla looked back and forth between the pistol in my hand and the stone. Then she shook her head as if she had given up even asking questions.
“…Alright.”
“Camilla.”
“What.”
“Thanks. Always.”
“Stop with the nonsense and just go and come back. I won’t shoot until you’re in danger, so you know.”
It’s always more comfortable moving with Camilla.
I lowered my body as much as possible and ran along the road. As soon as I started running, I dove into the bushes on the other side and practically laid flat.
I observed their movements with the binoculars. A couple of human zombies looked in my direction, but seeing nothing special, they looked back toward the village.
The foolish man and woman had gone completely into the village. Then the zombie dog slowly walked forward. Its body was taut and tense, as if it were preparing to leap at the count of one, two, three.
A little closer.
I circled around in an arc. I got behind them. The handkerchief wrapped around the stone had dried a bit, so I put it inside my shirt for a moment and rubbed it all over my body.
Cassandra had said that the virus that had taken root in my body produced a substance that excited the opponent.
If so, what about zombies who didn’t know me at all?
Throw.
Unfortunately, I didn’t hit a single one. It was a relief that it landed near the pack. The startled zombie dog let out a yelp. The other human zombies, not having heard the sound, looked on as if wondering why the dog had suddenly jumped.
The dog walked over to the stone. It seemed to be sniffing it. At the dog’s unexpected action, the other human zombies also gathered close and sniffed the handkerchief.
The zombie dog suddenly dug at the ground roughly with its front paws. It shook its head violently and then scratched its neck. The reaction of the zombies that had smelled it was also different from before.
Some straightened their bodies more, while others clutched their stomachs.
Hunger, starvation.
The zombies pushed each other. It was a movement like trying to divert attention, as before. The big dog wove through the zombies, rubbing its body against the humans. An act as if to imprint its scent.
But the eight zombies seemed agitated. They raised their shoulders as if holding back anger, drooled more than before, and even opened their mouths wide to lightly bite another’s body.
The bickering now became more intense. As if it could no longer watch, the zombie dog lightly bit the legs of the ones that had started fighting.
“Kyahak.”
A sound escaped.
The dog stretched its neck long and howled. A howl that echoed from deep in its throat. As if that were the signal, the dog ran.
Yes. This was it.
“It’s them! It’s them!”
People came running from the village in a flurry.
I had given them a hint. They wouldn’t be ambushed now. The rest was up to the humans in the village. I didn’t want to rashly help people I didn’t even know, only to be told, ‘you’re next.’
The large dog ran across the ground like a thunderbolt. It paid no mind to the bullets hitting the ground around it.
No, rather, it seemed to be inducing fire by running here and there. It was probably to protect the zombies following behind it.
These zombies couldn’t leap like a dog, but in that they knew how to dodge bullets by zigzagging and use the terrain to hide, they were already in the top 5%.
They were on a completely different level from the ones I had seen so far, which just ran in a straight line for food. Rather, they were more similar to a pack of angry monkeys I had seen in a documentary.
They instinctively reduced their body’s exposure, made loud noises to create a diversion, ignored non-fatal wounds even when shot, and though they drooled more, they didn’t tear into their bleeding comrades. No, it looked like they were trying to hold back.
What dominated them was not hunger.
It was anger.
The people didn’t just stand by either. A portion of the firepower that had been concentrated on the dog was directed toward the zombies behind it.
As if it had been waiting for that very moment, the dog leaped high. The terrified humans couldn’t react properly.
I pressed myself against the corner of a collapsed wall and aimed my pistol.
With the silencer attached and the surroundings being so noisy, the humans and zombies didn’t seem to notice where the shot came from, or if a bullet had even been fired.
Even with the silencer, the dull, heavy sound itself couldn’t be completely suppressed. Still, with the surroundings being so noisy, it would have been very difficult to pinpoint just this sound.
I fired three shots. One hit the zombie dog’s back and one its neck. The dog, having leaped into the air, howled in pain. Blood gushed out.
It howled even more fiercely, as if in frustration. The frenzied dog ran into the village, dripping blood.
“Oh, don’t come, don’t come!”
The man wasted his bullets in a burst of automatic fire. The dog leaped up and bit and tore at the man’s neck and face.
His female colleague next to him fired indiscriminately at both the dog and the man. I could clearly see the bitten limbs.
“Goddess. May my blood and flesh fatten you!”
She chanted an unknown spell and then put the rifle to her chin. I couldn’t bear to watch that, so I turned my head away. The sound of a shot. The sound of a person slumping to the ground.
A whistle came from behind. Camilla was running over, holding my gun and her own. Even as she came, she stopped, fired two shots at a time, and blew the heads off the approaching zombies.
We didn’t say much to each other. We entered the village.
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The last survivor was a woman who looked a bit old. The way she sat on the bench was quite composed. But her arm and thigh were already bitten. The transformation would be inevitable.
“I must thank the Goddess.”
Even at the last moment, the woman looked dignified.
“Why?”
“When we first came here, there were sixteen of us. Before that demon ate us one by one.”
As if it were hard to lift her arm, the woman pointed to the fallen dog with her chin.
“That demon and the humans took us one by one and ate us. Only ten of us were left. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have even gotten revenge. The Goddess sent you. I am truly grateful for that mercy.”
We came on our own, not because that skinny tree stump sent us. All the cultists spoke like this.
Camilla shot back, annoyed.
“You people were too complacent and clumsy. You know that, right?”
They hadn’t even put up a single common barricade. The area to be defended was too large, but the defense was incredibly sloppy.
“Well, we weren’t fighters. By the way, I have a favor to ask. Just give me one bullet and go. You know what I mean, right? The price for the bullet… the red-roofed house… the supplies, cough. cough.”
She meant for me to shoot her in the head before she turned into a zombie.
“Alright.”
I answered. In any case, it wasn’t good for there to be one more zombie in the world. The woman grinned. Her face was getting more and more flushed.
I fired the pistol.
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In the red-roofed house, the firearms and ammunition from the police substation, the supplies from the convenience store, and all the miscellaneous items scraped together from each house were gathered. They had even written ‘Supply Depot’ on the floor.
There were several cars in the house’s parking lot, but their condition wasn’t great. A box truck was somewhat usable. We put the electric bicycles in first. For firearms, there was one R-15, three Osberg shotguns, and five 226 pistols. The maintenance level was so-so.
Only the 5.56mm rounds were in a steel box; the rest were in small quantities and packed in cardboard boxes. Still, getting some slug rounds was a pretty good haul. This would be enough for large animals.
Other than that, we packed small but important things, like medicine, seasonings, preserved foods and cooking utensils like pots, clothes, and hygiene products. I particularly liked the bundle of plastic trash bags.
We packed the flour sacks and bundles of bottled water last. We planned to slowly pack the rest while going back and forth.
Lastly, to see if we had missed anything, I looked around each room. All there was were untidy sleeping bags, clothes, and open drawers.
Then I went into the master bedroom. There was a family photo hanging. But for some reason, it looked a bit familiar. Next to the people smiling brightly in hunting vests and brimmed hats, holding guns, a dog sat majestically.
It was that Rottweiler.
“Johan, we should grab the laptop too… what is it?”
Camilla entered the room. She saw the photo too. For a moment, we were silent. A situation formed in my mind.
This must have been their village originally. I wasn’t sure if the outsiders came first, or if they transformed first.
But for some reason, they became zombies, and even after becoming zombies, they kept trying to come back home, and they bit and killed the strangers one by one.
Cassandra had said that some substance that stimulated both zombies and humans came out of my body.
If it was true that it amplified their emotional state, then I had amplified their anger.
Even after becoming zombies, do they still remember the past?
Or, like normal people, can zombies also get angry for no reason, just out of a vague feeling?
To what extent are humans who have lost their judgment, and are animals and zombies any different?
I didn’t know.
“Let’s go.”
I gently took Camilla’s hand.
“Yeah.”
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