The villa I returned to after a long time was clean and tidy. There were five households that I didn't touch, and three of them were empty. I don't know if they went outside and died, or moved to another city.

Even the house where I could feel some presence...

*click*

"The door is open, hey!"

As soon as Elder Park opened the door, the zombie inside rushed out desperately, drooling. The emaciated zombie reached out with a frenzy-like intensity.

"Aaaargh!"

It felt like a person who had been starving for a week throwing themselves at a food bowl.

But we had already adapted to the apocalypse, so we weren't caught off guard. Elder Park quickly pulled out a gun and fired. The gunshot echoed through the villa, and the zombie was hit in the forehead at close range.

The hammer and hatchet I and Jeon Do-hyeong threw brushed past the falling zombie's crown.

We calmly assessed the situation. This was the last house, and the residents had ultimately become zombies due to the virus.

Jeon Do-hyeong muttered, "We've actually acquired a villa."

"Wow, we don't envy the landlord. Elder Kwon, no, Kim Da-in. Should we pretend to be the villa owners and bring people in? Get food instead of rent?"

I shook my head as I looked at the zombie.

"We'll worry about that later. Let's first check the resources left in the house."

My voice was a little bitter.

There are still more people than zombies. Yet, people so easily become zombies or die.

I wasn't happy about getting the villa. The villa was destined to be mine in the end anyway, and I was more concerned about their demise.

'I don't want to end up like them, so I have to be careful.'

Virus caution, zombie caution.

I slowly looked around the house, filled with trash, with furniture knocked over, as if the zombies had run wild.

Elder Park, like a thief, opened the wardrobes and crooked drawers to find passbooks, seals, and precious metals. Jeon Do-hyeong and I searched for resources like food.

How long had we been wandering in this garbage-filled room? Soon, Elder Park clicked his tongue.

"It's empty. There's nothing here."

"There's nothing to take."

There was only plastic trash like convenience store lunchboxes left, and the zombies had even scraped up the food waste. It seemed they didn't stock up on groceries in the first place.

The result of opening the treasure chest was a blank. Only the chest itself remained, which was still useful.

"I should be satisfied with cleaning the villa."

"Then let's each get a house and live separately."

That's how we decided to live separately.

Because of the incubation period virus, it was a bit uneasy to live together in one space. It's better to be isolated for sleeping, eating, and anytime we take off the masks.

***

50th day since the zombie outbreak.

The number of zombies has already exceeded 1 million, and it's not even noticeable that tens of thousands are increasing every day.

I browsed the internet on the computer to check on the state of the world - the number of infected, the government's response, the news, and people's reactions.

"The government seems to be functioning normally..."

I tapped the desk, deep in thought. The bright monitor screen showed the strongest evidence that the government was functioning normally.

- The K-military spirit can't even stop the I-virus!

Even in this situation, the conscription system is being maintained. They say diagnostic kits are prioritized for the military training centers first.

'Isn't that madness?'

Recruiting new soldiers when the zombie virus is spreading? Or are they desperately trying to replenish the reduced military force due to soldiers turning into zombies? Will they even mobilize the reserves? Of course, they won't go even if they're called up.

I scrolled through other news as well.

The administrative power and organization are maintained at a minimum, with priority supply to civil servants and the military. Safe zones built using self-diagnostic kits.

They also seem to be working hard, creating frontlines almost like trenches to protect critical national facilities and infrastructure.

Well, they're treating the zombies gently as they are also people and citizens, but the public reaction is not good.

I read the hateful comments. The atmosphere is completely different from the initial stage of the zombie outbreak.

Maybe it's because of the collapsing way of life due to the waves. Panicked citizens are posting brutal comments, demanding to shoot and kill the zombies.

Those whose family members have become zombies or tested positive on self-diagnostic kits are rebelling, saying, "Would you say the same if you or your family were infected?"

I pondered, unrelated to these conflicts.

"The military is too defensive. Why?"

Is it really that difficult to defend and maintain the safe zones, critical facilities, and the frontlines? Has the virus spread so much in the military? Or is it because they still see the zombies as people and citizens?

I frowned deeply and pondered seriously, but my thoughts soon drifted into the realm of imagination and delusion, as I lacked information.

'The reason they don't fight the zombies...'

The zombies are patients. Will there be people who naturally recover? Can the human immune system defeat the I-virus? Are they waiting for that timing?

Are they just holding out, waiting for the development of vaccines and treatments? Or are they searching for people with antibodies?

My imagination took flight, and the flow of my thoughts branched out in various directions.

'The war against the virus. War?'

"Surely, even if we are pushed back for now, as long as we defend well, there will be no defeat, right? From a long-term perspective, defeat and victory?"

At that moment, some kind of inspiration flashed through me, unrelated to the context. An inspiration that seemed to be helpful for my future plans.

I barely grasped that inspiration. What is the most powerful mentality that humans possess? Is it not the mentality of "let's all die together"?

"The virus... it's less dangerous than humans, isn't it?"

The I-virus evolving to contaminate water and air? Humans can do that too, can't they? They can make it even more toxic.

There are nuclear bombs, and they can even blow up nuclear power plants, and there are all kinds of pollutants, wastewater, and biological weapons.

It evolves to infect birds and animals? Humans have steel-made birds, nuclear missiles.

If hopeless humans go completely mad, the virus can never win. Because they will create a land where the host cannot live.

The flow of my thoughts twisted and tangled, but it rushed towards a certain conclusion.

"Indeed, I must become more toxic..."

Regardless of whether they are zombies or humans, I must harbor a toxicity that they dare not even attempt. Toxicity is the weapon of humans.

I suddenly looked out the window. It was a bright day, with people moving about the streets. At night, the zombies would be running around the streets. To make even a temporary stronghold safe...

The thought suddenly blurted out.

"Can't I get some fentanyl?"

Like laying rat poison, let the hungry zombies eat and die. They say 2mg is enough to kill. Wouldn't this be much more beneficial than entering a human's mouth?

But suddenly, the face of the chairman flashed in my mind. He was wearing an awkward smile, a face with imperfections, a human touch.

I sighed.

'Chairman, you were human after all.'

The virus, which can never win against the malice of humans. At best, mutual destruction is the best it can hope for.

I realized that the chairman also had limitations and made mistakes as a human.

***

"Hey, you want some drugs? I don't deal with drug-using humans."

"I thought so. Your head seems a bit off."

The two looters looked at me suspiciously. I waved my hands in frustration.

"Not me! I'm thinking of feeding it to the zombies. Like cockroach poison, you know."

"But why are you looking for fentanyl?"

The suspicion didn't seem to go away. They scanned my room with a suspicious gaze, as if I was hiding some nasty item.

I explained calmly.

"I don't know how to get something like cyanide. I don't even know where to buy it."

"But you know about fentanyl?"

"No, I don't! But there have been so many drug cases, so I thought that even if the world is collapsing, drug addicts would somehow be able to get their hands on it."

Even though I've only seen the news, it feels unrealistically easy. In the current situation, this is apparently the easiest poison to obtain.

It's even lethal in tiny amounts.

Park Yang-gun slammed his hand on the floor.

"Don't get mixed up with those guys. There's no drug addict who ends up fine. Rather, let's get that, you know, fugu poison."

"Fugu poison?"

How do you even get fugu. It would be hard to trade in the long run too.

I stared at Park Yang-gun with wide eyes, and he got irritated.

"There are so many fugu restaurants in this city! Just go check that out first!"

"Or isn't antifreeze also good? I think I heard that's poisonous."

They really are a group of looters. I couldn't have thought of this idea on my own. I smiled contentedly and nodded.

"Then I'll go check it out while the sun is still up."

***

The blackout is only 25% of the day, but the zombies occupy half the day. Humans rule the city during the day, and zombies at night. It's as if an invisible boundary divides their time.

I walked through the streets that the zombie wave had swept through.

Corpses strewn everywhere. Roads stained with blood that won't wash off. The entire city seemed shrouded in the shadow of destruction.

'They can't even collect the bodies.'

At least the areas with self-defense groups or communities have the bodies neatly gathered, but it's awkward to bury or cremate them. The piled-up corpses look just like a garbage dump.

Above all, the people walking the streets passed by indifferently, as if it were an everyday occurrence.

This inhumane scene is the true apocalypse. A world where death is common, where morals and spirit have eroded, regressing to primitivism.

I discreetly checked my hammer and pistol.

'Was it a mistake to come out alone? Even though I don't see any zombies in the daytime, the people are more dangerous.'

I kept my eyes wide open, vigilantly scanning my surroundings. The other people were similar. They carried ominous, self-modified weapons.

In this era, weapons have become more defining than clothes. Everyone looks the same in their apocalypse uniforms of masks, hats, helmets, leather jackets, and jeans.

With nerves on edge, I headed to the nearest sushi restaurant that also sells fugu.

"...It's brutal."

There were a few zombie corpses lying in front of the sushi restaurant. As I glanced at them while passing by, I noticed their carotid arteries were precisely and sharply severed.

Were they cut with a sushi knife? I swallowed hard and entered the restaurant. The bell rang, and a measured voice greeted me.

"Welcome!"

The interior was like an omakase restaurant, empty due to the quarantine policies. A gruff-looking middle-aged man looked at me. In one hand, he held a sharp kitchen knife, and his exposed forearm was covered in fish tattoos.

He looked like he would slice up a person rather than fish.

"As I stood there awkwardly, the middle-aged man gave an uncomfortable smile. He covered his tattoo with one hand.

"Ah, this. I love fish, you see. This one is mullet, this one is salmon, and this one is tuna. Oh, right. No, you must be the one who placed a takeout order. Can I check your order number?"

"No, I'm here to place an order now."

"You know we can't serve dine-in customers, right?"

"I know."

I discreetly sat down at the far end. He seems like a difficult person.

"So what would you like to order? Luckily, we got some fresh fish today."

It seems the supply chain hasn't been completely disrupted yet. Anyway, I got straight to the point.

"I'd like fugu poison."

"Fugu? Preparing that takes time... Poison?"

The middle-aged man who had turned away came back. The knife in his hand gleamed as if it could stab a person. He had completely dropped the welcoming smile he had for customers.

"I can't sell poison."