EPZ 3

Chapter: 3

“Kyaaaak!”

The one that had somehow made it across the tangled mass of zombies shrieked toward Jigu. A dark, murky substance burst out of its gaping mouth. Disgusted, Jigu shuddered violently.

“Ugh—brush your teeth or something!”

“Grrk—kah!”

The sharply honed poker thrust toward the creature’s mouth.

The angle had to be slightly upward.
She had to pierce the brain in one strike.

Thunk!

The sensation of puncturing soft flesh traveled up the metal rod and into her palm.

The tip snagged for a moment, likely catching on bone, but a body already rotten and mushy could be pierced easily with nothing more than a crude iron spike. Still, there was no helping the visceral revulsion.

“Eek—ugh! I hate this so much! Gah!”

No matter how many zombies she killed, she could never get used to the squishy feeling of stabbing something that had once been human.

Her face deathly pale, Jigu barely suppressed the urge to vomit and kicked away the now-limp zombie corpse.

Perhaps because she had dealt with one of them, the mass of zombies below had somewhat reorganized and were now climbing up in an orderly line.

But when the zombie Jigu kicked rolled down onto their heads, they collapsed again like dominoes.

“Ugh…”

Swallowing back the bile rising in her throat, Jigu shuddered and flicked the poker, still smeared with rotten fluids.

“Come on, you bastards!”

“Kraaagh!”

“Kyaaak!”

Enraged by Jigu’s taunt, the zombies began crawling up the escalator once more.

At that moment, her vision darkened as if a dead-end screen had splashed across it in black and red. A chilling wave of dread shot up her spine, making the hair on her neck stand on end.

“Grrk… grrrr…”

A horrifying growl echoed from above her head.

Creak… creak.

Turning her head stiffly like a broken machine, Jigu gasped and swallowed a groan.

“…I’m screwed.”

Never let your guard down.

That was rule number one for surviving this damn zombie land.

But she had been too focused on killing the zombies in front of her and hadn’t paid attention to the first floor. It felt unfair.

“There was definitely no one there earlier!”

“Kaaagh!”

“Grrrk!”

Three or four zombies on the first floor spotted Jigu and began tumbling down the escalator.

“Are you kidding me…!”

Six zombies crawling up from below.
Four more falling from above.

Clenching her lips tight, Jigu stepped on the handrail and flung herself off the escalator. She might get hurt—but that was better than being torn apart by zombies.

Boooom!

“Ugh—hnngh…!”

She hit the floor underground without a moment to brace herself, rolling across it. A dull, heavy pain throbbed through her body like she’d been beaten senseless. But there was no time to linger.

Boom! Thud! Boom! Thunk!

The zombies that had followed her leapt off the escalator one after another, slamming onto the ground behind her.

Watching them continue to crawl toward her even with their lower bodies completely crushed, Jigu swallowed a groan and forced herself upright.

Where should I go?

Her gaze turned toward the supermarket entrance.

Maybe there were survivors inside.

But zombies were already spilling out of the market as well.

Maybe there really were no survivors left. Or maybe they had all already turned into zombies. The grim thought made her stomach go cold.

I need to get somewhere safe first!

Dodging a zombie hand that nearly grabbed her ankle, Jigu bolted in the opposite direction of the market.

An isolated area.
A closed-off space.
Somewhere she could designate as a Earth Protection Zone.

She had to get there.

“Hah… hah…”

Her breath hitched painfully in her throat.

In the silent underground space, only the sound of her sprinting footsteps and the zombies’ howls echoed chaotically. Her terrified eyes wandered aimlessly through the pitch-black darkness.

There—!

It looked like a swimsuit shop. Mannequins dressed in swimsuits were lined up in front of the store. Inside, beyond the counter, she spotted a storage room door that was half open.

But with her vision clouded red from the pursuing zombies, she couldn’t judge what dangers might be waiting inside.

Holding her breath, Jigu cautiously knocked—thump, thump—to check if there were zombies inside. But by then, the zombies right behind her were already staggering into the store.

“Grrrr…!”

“Kah!”

Bang!

Dodging their grasping hands, Jigu dove into the storage room and slammed the door shut.

The noise outside died down instantly—but only for a moment.

Bang bang bang!
Thud!
“Kyaaak!”
“Kraah!”

The zombies that had gathered in a horde began pounding on the door. Jigu could feel the violent shaking through her back, drenched in cold sweat. The walls trembled as if they might collapse at any moment—probably because it was just a makeshift partition.

“Earth Protection Zone!”

Panting, Jigu shouted the skill name. A familiar system window appeared before her eyes.

[Initiating scan of the area where the player is located]

Exploration progress… 67%
…100%

[This area has been designated as an Earth Protection Zone: Temporary Storage Room / 4㎡]

The four edges of the narrow storage room floor began glowing with a blue outline.

She could still hear the noise and feel the door shaking behind her—but now, this area was safe.

“Hah… haaah…”

Only then did Jigu’s tension finally give way, and she collapsed limply onto the floor.

With the adrenaline gone, she suddenly became acutely aware of how uncomfortable her sweat-soaked T-shirt felt.

In a world where the choices were death or getting bitten and becoming a zombie, here she was feeling gross over a sweaty shirt. How ridiculous.

Letting out a weak, hollow laugh, Jigu soon bowed her head deeply. Her nose stung.

“Sniff… ngh.”

The sorrow she had been holding back finally burst.

Life in the zombie world was actually more comfortable than she’d expected.

Thanks to the Earth Protection Zone that guaranteed her safety, the detection skill that warned her of danger, and her inventory.

But still—

“Did I ever ask for this? Did I?”

One day, she had woken up in this damn zombie world without warning.

At first, she was dazed—but it was also kind of fun. Like a game. Creating safe zones in lawless lands filled only with zombies, scavenging ownerless houses for supplies, stacking them neatly into her inventory—it all felt oddly satisfying.

So she thought that the absence of other living people wouldn’t really be a problem.

She’d never been good at blending in with people anyway.

With her adoptive parents, with the younger sibling miraculously born to them despite infertility, with classmates she met at school—she’d always kept her distance.

That constant sense of watching others through a pane of glass, the alienation and disconnect, had always plagued her. She thought she’d be fine.

She wasn’t.

More painful than being trapped in a game world with no logout button was the fact that there wasn’t a single person to exchange even a simple greeting with.

The loneliness, isolation, and despair she had forced down surged back like a tidal wave.

The faint hope that there might be another survivor was swept away just as easily by waves of disappointment. Four hundred and forty-four days was far too long to remain optimistic.

They might already be dead.

And even if she met someone—what then? They’d just be a game character anyway.

Swallowing her grief with a hard gulp, Jigu lifted her head—and saw a mannequin sprawled haphazardly on the floor.

Its empty eyes, staring nowhere, and its tightly shut lips almost seemed to be mocking her.

Letting out a dry chuckle, Jigu pulled the broken mannequin’s upper body into her arms.

Burying her face against its cold, rigid neck, it almost felt… a little warm.

“Hic…”

Thick teardrops fell onto the mannequin’s hard body. She couldn’t stop crying.

She desperately missed another person’s voice, their warmth—everything. Even if they were just a game character, she didn’t care. As long as she could hear a response.

Hello. My name is Jigu. Please answer me. Please hug me. Call my name. Anyone. Please—anyone at all.

At that very moment—

[Bzzz—static. …Sir! Bzzz. …there? Are you… alive?!]

A voice echoed through the cramped storage room.

Still clutching the mannequin, tears dripping down her face, Jigu snapped her head up.

It was unmistakably a human voice.

Where was it coming from? Her tear-filled eyes scanned the room frantically—then froze.

[Bzzz—…Sir! Re…spond!]

A green light was blinking on a walkie-talkie tossed carelessly in the corner of the storage room. At the same time, Jigu’s eyes lit up.

“Peo—!”

A person! A living person!

She threw the mannequin aside like a worn-out shoe and scrambled to grab the walkie-talkie.

“Hello! My name is Jigu! Won Jigu! Who are you?!”

[Bzzz—Captain! Sob! Captain! Are you alive?! Waaah!]

“…Huh?”

Captain? Alive?

Jigu tilted her head slightly, shouting into the radio with a tear-streaked face.

The voice on the other end spoke fluent, native-sounding English. She felt her raised smile twitch nervously.

“Ah… English…”

Thanks to years of binge-watching American dramas and rote public education, she could manage basic conversation—but Jigu had one fatal flaw.

A severe case of native-speaker anxiety.

Still, she couldn’t let something like that cost her the first survivor she’d encountered in 444 days.

Her eyes hardened with resolve.

Okay—he just asked if I’m alive, right?

“I am alive! You alive? Where you? Safe?”

[Y-yes! I’m safe! Sob! But the c-captain—! The captain—! Waaah!]

“Captain?”

[Yes! He tried to save me—! Sob! Please—please help the captain!]

Listening to the sobbing voice on the other end repeatedly crying out “Captain,” Jigu’s expression grew uneasy.

Please… help… captain.
So that means—

“Captain in danger? Help?”

[Yes! Yes! Please help! Waaah!]

 The moment the man broke down completely, crying out for help—