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Chapter: 23
“Damn, this crazy weather!”
Thud!
Luke slammed his shovel into the muddy boards mixed with dirt and cursed with a dark face.
They were digging wet soil and breaking apart the shed boards, but the mud, already soaked with water, kept sliding down again and again. All their work was useless.
And the burning sun above their heads made it worse. Sweat poured endlessly, and it felt like their whole bodies were melting.
“Hey! This is pointless. Just suffering for nothing!”
“Shut up and keep digging.”
Maya glared at Luke, who had been complaining nonstop, and wiped her irritated face.
Her face was burning red, covered in sweat. Not only her face—her clothes and even her underwear were completely soaked.
Honestly, she also wanted to lie down and forget about the truck. But ever since they arrived at the farm, Jigu had been showing sharp tension from time to time, and it kept bothering Maya.
Won Jigu.
Maya bit her lip as she thought of the small, thin Asian woman.
It had happened in just a brief moment, so maybe others did not notice—but that man probably had. That was why he pushed everyone so hard even before sunrise.
Kalif Roxberg.
A Sentinel from Ranger Shelter, known as the safest shelter in existence. And a man who cared deeply for Jigu.
He pretended to be calm, but anyone could see his gaze was always following her.
As if she might fly away if blown, or shatter if touched—yet his eyes never left her even for a step.
Maya glanced at his cold face, then lowered her gaze to his wrist.
[Mutation Rate 86%]
The mutation rate that had once shot up to 98% had now dropped to 86%, as if that spike had never happened.
‘Yesterday it was definitely 87%.’
She could not be wrong. In this cursed world, no survivor ignored a Sentinel. Checking a Sentinel’s wrist had become a survival instinct.
If you meet a Sentinel with high mutation—run as far away as possible. That was common sense.
Sentinels were beings destined to mutate.
But that “common sense” had been shattered.
There was no way to lower mutation. They were already infected carriers. Every time they used their powers, the mutation increased—that proved it.
But lowering mutation?
‘It’s like a vaccine.’
Won Jigu.
It was as if the laws of this world did not apply to her.
Maybe… she was the last remaining hope of this world.
The thought passed through Maya’s mind—but she quickly pushed it away.
Vaccines, mutation—those complicated things did not matter. She just struggled to survive each day.
‘Enough. Focus on work.’
Dark clouds were slowly gathering in the clear sky. If it rained again, things would become even worse.
They had to dig out the truck before that.
Wiping sweat from her eyes, Maya drove the shovel into the mud again.
Clang!
It hit something hard and bounced back.
Frowning, Maya scraped the soil with the shovel tip and saw broken boards tangled together.
“Haah… I’m so sick of this…”
She decided to finish this part and rest. With a tired face, she bent down and began pulling the boards away one by one.
But a large piece of plastic and boards were tightly tangled and would not come out.
Finally, with a twisted face, Maya grabbed the plastic and pulled hard.
“Ugh…! What is it stuck on…? Why won’t it—ah!”
Riiip!
The plastic tore with a disturbing sound against a sharp board. Losing balance, Maya screamed and fell backward.
“Seriously… just my luck…”
Rubbing her wet hip, Maya suddenly froze.
Something pale was visible through the torn plastic.
Cold chills ran across her heated body.
“…What is that?”
“What could it be, really…”
While the adults struggled with the mud, the children were walking through the cornfield near the farm.
Well—technically one adult and one child, but since Jigu did not want to correct Morton’s misunderstanding, she quietly accepted the role of a child.
Looking around the field filled only with corn stalks, Jigu scratched the back of her head.
Her Detection skill, which had been warning her of faint danger, had actually calmed after leaving the farm.
Not completely calm… maybe under 10%? Probably something like: a zombie within 500 meters, but not dangerous.
While she stared uneasily toward the farm—
Grrrrowl.
A loud stomach growl echoed.
Jigu blinked in surprise. Ryan rubbed his stomach awkwardly.
Grrrrowl… grrr…
It did not stop.
Only then did Jigu realize.
‘When was the last proper meal?’
Last night they only shared a few energy bars. Breakfast was the same. They skipped lunch while checking the cornfield.
Even back in Little Rock, constant trouble left no time to eat properly.
‘At least two days…’
Yet Ryan did not complain. He was used to hunger.
Watching him quietly poking the ground with a stick, pretending nothing was wrong, Jigu sighed.
“Ryan, what do you want to eat?”
“Hmm, anything.”
“Reeally? Even broccoli?”
“It’s edible. I like it.”
“Good boy.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t picky-eat.”
Foreign kids hated broccoli, she thought. Probably because they did not have chili paste.
Smiling warmly, she patted his head. Ryan looked at her as if seeing something strange.
Picky eating—that was from a long time ago, before the virus.
As always, Jigu was strange.
“Not just edible—what do you want to eat?”
“Hmm… cheese balls!”
“Cheese balls!”
Jigu repeated and laughed brightly.
He must have remembered from earlier. Even in chaos, he really wanted them.
“Okay. Then cheese balls—and hmm, let’s eat corn too!”
“What? Corn? Where?”
“Here.”
“Oh! It’s corn!”
“This place is all corn.”
She was right. Though most were dried from drought and neglect, it was still a cornfield.
Looking closer, Ryan saw a small but real corn ear.
“It’s tiny. How do we eat this?”
“With butter. Grilled.”
Usually people boiled full-grown corn, but Jigu preferred young baby corn grilled with butter—crispy and sweet.
Just imagining the taste made her swallow. Ryan swallowed too.
“Then let’s pick a lot!”
“Okay!”
Luckily, baby corn was everywhere around them. As Jigu gathered armfuls, she suddenly looked up.
Her calm vision was slowly turning red again.
“Jigu. There’s a zombie. Looks like its leg is hurt.”
Looking where Ryan pointed, she saw a zombie crawling far away.
Dry, with crushed legs—not very threatening. Even the Detection skill warned only slightly.
But Ryan’s tone surprised her.
Why did he sound like he was talking about an injured baby bird?
Jigu looked at him, confused.
But his brown eyes held no pity—only instinctive disgust and faint anger.
Holding a sharpened stick, Ryan carefully walked toward the zombie.
Jigu hurried and blocked him.
“Wait, Ryan! What are you doing?”
“Huh? What else? We kill it. It’s a zombie.”
Yes… that was right. Zombies must be killed.
So why did she feel uneasy?
Ryan tilted his head, blinking clear brown eyes.
Jigu groaned softly.
“…I’ll do it.”
