In the darkness, the worship service continues. The pastor continues his solemn recitation, as if praying alone, and the congregants hidden in the darkness listen intently, holding their breath like non-existent people.

It is a scene reminiscent of persecuted believers continuing their faith in hiding. And as with any religion, trials have come.

Suddenly, zombies appeared.

"Help us overcome tribulation through faith-"

"Keeeek!"

Suddenly, a monstrous cry is heard from within the church. It's a zombie. Except for the candles around the pastor, there is no other lighting, so the direction is only guessed, and it's not clear where it appeared.

The pastor opened his eyes. It seemed that anger was freezing in his eyes glistening with tears, and a thunderous cry burst out.

"Unbeliever!"

Eeeee-

The portable microphone and speaker let out an ear-piercing noise. Other than that, it was quiet. Despite the appearance of the zombies, the congregants remained calm. They did not scream or try to escape in a disorderly manner.

I slowly got up and grasped the situation.

'Is this a trap?'

The only lighting is the candles and the speaker noise. If the people remain still like mannequins, the zombies will ignore them and only rush towards the pastor.

And that's exactly what happened.

"Ugh! Grrr!"

The sounds of the zombies struggling to run, falling, and floundering as they approached were heard.

The pastor, as if familiar with this, pulled out a large cross from under the pulpit. It was a cross that could be hung on the wall, made of steel. The light of the candles shone on it solemnly.

It was an excellent blunt weapon. Come to think of it, a hammer or a cross look similar, don't they?

'It also looks similar to the I logo of Immortal Company. This is enough for a quick suicide. If you look closely, the pastor also looks similar to the chairman.'

While I was reorganizing my own way of thinking for a sincere performance, the pastor glared down and raised the cross high. The cries for luring continued.

"You who have succumbed to tribulation! Unbelieving apostate! How dare you set foot in the holy church, stained with sin!"

"Kaaaah!"

And the zombie reached the platform.

The cross fell towards the zombie that had laboriously climbed onto the platform.

"In the name of God! Faith! Judgment! Salvation!"

Thud! A strong impact sound. Next to the faint candlelight, the cross continued to be swung. The part where Jesus' hands were nailed, protruding sideways, mercilessly struck the zombie.

"The hand of God!"

The zombies were unable to regain their senses and were struck down, collapsing with a thud. The pastor was skilled at distance control, hiding behind the candles, and landing the initial blow properly.

It was almost like the skills of a professional zombie hunter. There was no hesitation, but rather a calculated murder used as a performance.

'The intruder, passed.'

The more I think about it, the more impressive this group is. Even the fact that the members are believers was an advantage. As long as they brand them as unbelievers, they can engage in looting without a guilty conscience.

Once the commotion was resolved, and the pastor used this to preach, I was lost in thought, writing various scenarios.

Ways to join, ways to obtain a suitable position, ways to utilize them efficiently, means of survival.

'What I learned from the professor's manuscript...'

I don't know how long I had been deep in thought, not even listening to the pastor's words.

The service had ended without me realizing it. The electricity was restored, and the bright lighting returned. The expressions of the believers, some crying, some moved, some praying.

The pastor greeted the people with a faint smile.

"Please remember your masks. Disinfect thoroughly when leaving. And this unbeliever..."

The pastor glanced down. The zombie struck by the cross was not dead, its chest rising and falling.

"Take him to the repentance room, and I will pray for him. May God save the lamb. Ah, yes. Those believers who had contact with this unbeliever, please disinfect the affected areas with the consecrated disinfectant I provided."

The people left in an orderly manner. The elderly woman also got up and headed towards the exit, likely to handle the disinfection.

Amidst the murmuring, the evangelist approached me.

"Are you really going to get involved in this? It seems risky."

"What? What are you talking about?"

I stared at him with wide eyes, as if looking at an unbeliever who doubts the Apocalypse and the chairman.

"How can you doubt the pastor? I trust the pastor. I will be the pastor's strength."

"...What are you planning to do now."

Despite maintaining his composure during the service, the evangelist pressed his head down, but I turned away.

An elder of the church, equipped with a mask, raincoat, and gloves like protective gear, was dragging the unconscious zombie wrapped in plastic somewhere.

I walked towards the pastor, who was conversing with the elders.

***

In the end, I managed to have an opportunity to meet the pastor, despite the officer who was protecting the pastor's safety trying to stop me. The pastor, the evangelist, and I faced each other in what seemed to be the pastor's office.

I take a quick look around the room.

A cross on the wall, a desk with a computer and cups, bookshelves filled with Bibles and Christian literature.

"Brother, I have something to discuss with you."

The young voice of the pastor can be heard. I turned my head. Without even wearing a mask, he was staring at us intently, with some kind of confidence.

Before opening my mouth, I accelerated my thoughts.

'A simple act of fanaticism is meaningless. There are plenty of fanatics out there. So...'

In the end, it's about profit and loss. Just as this church gained people by the harm of virus infection and hell, and the benefit of defeating the virus and salvation, so must I.

I believe faith is the foundation, but I must also show the benefits that only I can provide. I opened my mouth a little.

"Pastor. I saw hope in you. You are the one who can oppose that chairman, and you are the one who can save those suffering from the virus."

After I spewed these flattering words, the observing pastor briefly replied,

"I know."

I was at a loss for words. The madness contained in that calm statement. He neither denied it nor showed any humility. Is he an intelligent survivor or a cult member? Or is he just acting in front of a stranger?

Unable to say anything, the pastor closed his eyes and prayed with his hands folded.

"When all the greedy senior pastors and weak believers became zombies, only I and a few brothers and sisters who were not corrupted survived. God has given me a command."

"...What command?"

The evangelist asked. The pastor muttered as if in prayer, his voice full of faith.

"To guide and protect the lambs from the disaster caused by Satan! This is the mission God has given me!"

"..."

I don't know what to make of this.

I thought he was a cold, manipulative person who used faith as a means, but is he really a cult member? What is this?

The evangelist and the pastor continue their conversation.

"Then why aren't you wearing a mask?"

"As long as I don't abandon my mission, the virus cannot dare to invade me."

"Wow..."

"Wow" what? Of course he's not getting infected, since everyone else is wearing masks and disinfecting, creating a kind of clean zone.

My suspicion wavered between the apocalyptic madman and the skilled predator.

'Ah, what is this person really? What is he doing?'

It seems I need to join and observe and analyze the situation. There's no need to make a hasty decision anyway.

My gaze brushed over the pastor's face. That weakness of not wearing a mask.

'For now, I'll join and assess the situation.'

A well-organized group, with firearms and other weapons, and a large number of people. This is the perfect environment to test the effectiveness of the professor's teachings.

It's an opportunity to learn how to manage a group. If it turns out to be a good place, I can even settle here.

'The professor said that the human weapon is sociality and group, and that there are limitations to the individual. The seniors in the mafia and some drug cartels taught to gain the trust of the locals and collect protection fees.'

I suddenly spoke up.

"Do you happen to know Professor Kim?"

"Which professor do you mean?"

I listed the details about Professor Kim.

Disaster response expert, famous university, policy advisory experience.

"I am a student of that professor. I would like to be of help to you, Reverend. If it's you, you can save more people."

"Indeed. This is also the work of God."

The professor's authority also worked on the pastor. He smiled happily and suddenly expressed gratitude as if in prayer.

I quickly followed him, holding his hand and bowing my head. The evangelist hesitantly looked at the pastor and prayed like me.

After a while, the pastor asked curiously,

"What have you learned from that professor?"

Now is the time. To prove my worth, the benefits I can provide. I first handed over an advance payment.

"The professor predicted that the end of the world is coming. He-"

Eschatology.

It is good to combine with religion and can be used as a weapon in the form of prophecy. I vividly described the end of the world.

Unstoppable transmission. Mutation of the virus to come. Birds and beasts becoming hosts of the virus, air, water and land becoming enemies of humans on the day of the end.

The pastor took notes with a ballpoint pen as he listened, and a strange emotion formed on his face.

"To this extent... Indeed."

He seemed frustrated by the bleak future, but also seemed to rejoice in the trials that would prove his faith. Or perhaps he welcomed the era of living as a plunderer.

Secondly, I made a statement to receive a position.

"Of course, the professor said there is hope. I have also learned from him how to survive in this situation. Please let me help the Reverend save more people."

"Wow..."

The evangelist exclaimed in admiration. Perhaps he wondered how I could have fabricated such words without any sincerity.

Fortunately, the pastor asked a question without much reaction.

"Then, we, ah. What is your name?"

"Kwon Da-in."

I answered by only changing the surname. There was no need to give my real name.

"Brother Kwon Da-in. How should we protect our brothers and sisters in the church now?"

"Disaster response must be considered in a complex and pluralistic way... First, the current quarantine measures are excellent."

It's not a lie. Disinfection, masks, visitor logs. All good.

But there are also some shortcomings that I briefly observed. I spoke as professionally as possible.

"However, elements such as the wooden doors of the sanctuary and the glass doors of the church entrance are disadvantageous. Zombies can break in at any time."

These are the weaknesses I see if I make this place my base.

Also, an isolated church building is disadvantageous. If it is an area with densely packed villas or mansions, you can create an escape route by moving from rooftop to rooftop, but if you are isolated in the church, you cannot escape.

"But... leaving the church and moving is..."

The pastor speaks as if he is perplexed. I forcibly drew out my faith. It's not the pastor, but the chairman. They look similar.

A sincere voice burst out.

"Where the pastor is, that is the church."

The pastor looked at me quietly for a while, then smiled slightly. He said,

"Brother. Your age, ah. There's no need to be picky about it now. Brother Kwon Da-in. Would you be willing to serve as a deacon and take charge of the church's safety management?"

"It's an honor."

Done.

Regardless of the name, a suitable task has come into my hands. If there is a task, there will also be the corresponding authority.

"The decision to abandon the church is not easy after all. Deacon Kwon Da-in. Please try to maintain the church as much as possible."

"Understood. Then I need to check the building structure first..."

"Of course."

I smiled happily, but it can't be seen behind the mask. I just nod as I watch the pastor, who is unfamiliar with the current era, smiling with a bare face.

'Well, let's start by checking the building.'

I enthusiastically got up from my seat, and Jeon Do-hyeong awkwardly followed me.

The pastor finally focused his attention on Jeon Do-hyeong.

"Ah. And this brother is...?"

"He's my friend. It's enough for him to help me with the work."

In this way, I, who was once an aspiring scenario writer named Kim Da-in, joined the church and became Deacon Kwon Da-in in charge of safety management.

I ignored the muttering of the dragged-out Jeon Do-hyeong, "Me too, me too a deacon."