Apocalypse's Teacher - Chapter 0
Chapter 0
D + 1923
***
I was a teacher.
Not in a metaphorical sense like a killer teacher or a negative example, but a real teacher who taught students in a school.
Sharp-eyed people might have noticed something strange in my words.
Yes, ‘was.’
I’m not anymore.
No matter how qualified a teacher I am, if there’s no school to go to or students to teach, I can’t do my job, can I?
If you ask why, I can only give one answer.
‘The world has gone to shit. Seriously.’
The world has ended.
Why did it end?
Because of a virus.
Not just any virus, but a monstrous virus that spread through the air and covered the entire globe.
Th i s w a s copi e d f r om k in g m t l .o r g
By now, you might be a little curious about the nature of this virus.
Don’t be too shocked.
The virus that has covered the entire world and brought humanity to its knees is…!
…a zombie virus.
A virus that turns you into a ‘zombie’ that drags its feet around making ‘grrr’ sounds when infected.
If you don’t believe me, I have nothing to say.
Honestly, even I think it’s nonsense.
Seriously, where in the world is there a virus that makes corpses move?
How does the body metabolize without a heartbeat, and how do electrical signals pass through a decayed nervous system?
Th i s w a s c op i e d f r o m k i ng m t l . o rg
Isn’t the very idea of a corpse moving absurd?
But the fact that such an absurd thing happened right before my eyes leaves me dumbfounded.
The only reason I acknowledge this ridiculous story is because of one thing.
These damn corpses are constantly after my neck.
They’re always loitering around in front of me.
“Ugh…”
I let out a sigh at the sight before me.
The city, which had lost the blessing of electricity, had become a desolate concrete grave.
The loud music that used to hurt my ears, the brightly shining billboards, and the people walking around in groups—all of them had disappeared, leaving only inorganic gray despair.
I gripped the monkey wrench in my hand tighter as I walked through the heart of the city.
‘Doesn’t seem to be here.’
T h is w a s cop i ed f r om k in g mtl . or g
I looked around.
I was searching for zombies.
You might ask why I don’t hide and instead walk right down the main road.
I can answer that firmly.
Because it’s much safer here.
A place with cover means a place where zombies could be hiding.
A narrow alley means a place with only one escape route.
A sealed bunker?
The leaders of this era who built shelters have already taken up residence in such places, so how could someone like me get one?
Why not join someone else’s shelter?
On this point, I can answer most assuredly.
Shelters are the worst choice.
It’s like willingly becoming a slave worse than zombie food.
This is now a world without laws or morals.
Th i s w as co pied fr om k i n g m t l. o rg
And it’s a world where the most dangerous monsters roam everywhere.
Now, let’s say there’s someone who gives you a room to survive in this world—what would you do?
Sure, you’d happily accept it, right? You might even bow down in gratitude?
But wait, before you get too excited, let’s think about something.
Something we learned from kindergarten.
The mindset of trying to understand the other person.
Why would the owner of the shelter allow an unknown and untrustworthy person like you in?
T h i s w a s c o p ie d fro m k i n gm t l .o r g
Bluntly speaking, couldn’t you kill that person with a knife and take over the shelter?
By now, you should have a rough idea of the owner’s intentions.
Yes, they’re looking for labor.
They’ve formed a power structure among trustworthy people and are exploiting the refugees who come to the shelter.
In the past… back when I was in elementary school, there was a comic book with a line that went like this:
[Kill the men and rape the women.]
If we translate this into the language of shelters, it would be ‘Kill’ becomes ‘Use as slaves.’
Shelters are such places.
Places where terrifying bastards, worse than zombies, exploit their fellow humans with remnants of civilization’s weapons in a place devoid of any sign of technology.
So, the only choice for insignificant people like me is to step out into the streets, trust in my guts, and survive by scavenging supplies while avoiding zombies.
Clang.
A sudden noise from behind startled me.
“Ah, shit…!”
T h i s wa s c op i e d fr om k i n g mt l. o r g
I let out a sigh of relief.
It was just a can rolling in the wind.
T h i s w a s c o p i ed f r o m k i n g m t l .o r g
My heart pounded.
You might ask why I’m so scared, but I have a reason.
To survive here, you have to react to every little sound like ‘Did I miss a zombie creeping up on me?’
In this post-apocalyptic world, you have to maintain such tension to see tomorrow.
“Hoo…”
I took a deep breath to calm my startled heart and lifted my head to look ahead.
There was a convenience store.
A convenience store with a yellow sign that you could find anywhere in the country.
I was going to look for food there today.
‘Please, tuna cans! Or if not tuna, then beans! If not beans… anything edible!’
T hi s w a s c op i e d f r o m ki ng m t l . o r g
It’s been five years since the world ended.
Pre-made items created before the virus spread have already expired and are inedible.
Unless it’s preserved food like tuna cans, there’s nothing to eat.
I scanned the surroundings quickly.
A bustling area in Seoul filled with high-rise buildings.
The convenience store was on the first floor of one of those buildings.
In such cases, there are two things to consider.
First, the condition of the store’s exterior.
‘No broken glass…’
If the glass walls, usually made of glass, are broken.
If they are, the chances are high that there’s no supplies inside.
Either it has already been looted, or it’s a place where zombies have invaded and been contaminated with the virus.
‘Next… good, the back door is closed too.’
After confirming that the glass walls were intact, I checked if the back door visible through the glass was open.
Also, if the storage room door was open.
Everything was perfect.
Based on the survival skills I had developed, I concluded that the convenience store was a suitable place to resupply and cautiously moved forward.
*
“Fuck yeah! This is it!”
I cheered.
The sight before me was like a golden horizon, making my whole body tingle.
‘Tuna cans, peach cans, this is… beef jangjorim!’
It was an unbelievable haul.
A world that’s been destroyed for over five years.
To find such unexpected gains in a convenience store in the heart of Seoul—it felt like my brain was melting.
Pop.
Overjoyed, I immediately opened a tuna can and scooped it into my mouth.
The salty and greasy taste overwhelmed my tongue.
My stomach, perhaps craving more nutrients, started growling and demanding more.
I patted my belly with a grin, soothing my stomach.
Thi s was c op i e d fr o m kin gm tl. or g
‘Wait a bit, buddy. I’ll give you more when we get back to the hideout.’
Although I celebrated by finishing a can right there, staying any longer was dangerous.
The safest choice was to quickly grab what I needed and leave the convenience store.
I opened my backpack and swept all the cans into it, then picked up the monkey wrench I had left on the floor and stood up, feeling grateful to the gods.
‘Oh, right. Cigarettes too.’
Just as I was about to leave, I remembered.
I went to the counter and grabbed a few packs of cigarettes, stuffing them into my pockets.
I wasn’t taking them to smoke myself.
‘Let’s see… it was three bottles of water per pack.’
In any era, there are crazies who prioritize pleasure over survival.
And those crazies also have supplies for survival.
These cigarettes were for trading with such people.
Items like cigarettes are the best trade goods for those people.
If you think about it, they’re a kind of currency.
‘Now… let’s head back.’
Feeling both my pocket and my heart fuller, I prepared to leave.
‘An hour to the hideout.’
I had come quite far.
Fortunately, the haul was good, but since the way back was long, it wasn’t time to relax yet.
One of the rules to survive in a ruined world is to never let your guard down until you’re safe.
I reminded myself of the rule I had set as I opened the convenience store door.
At that moment.
Click.
I heard a sound like something locking, right next to my ear as I stepped out.
Immediately, the cold touch of metal pressed against my temple.
“Drop the bag.”
A strange voice, so distorted that I couldn’t identify the original tone, hit my ear.
My eyes rolled to the left.
‘…Shit.’
A masked assailant was pointing a pistol at me.
They were about the height of my shoulder, but that didn’t matter.
Because the assailant was aiming a pistol at me.
A technology of pure malice that allows even a child to kill a world champion in martial arts.
You might remember what I said earlier.
What kind of people carry firearms in this fucked-up world.
…Yes, they were shelter people.
My eyes rolled again.
I scanned the surroundings to find others.
Shelter people never move alone, and if they carry firearms, they must have some status.
Sadly and painfully, my prediction was correct.
Another masked assailant, similar in height, appeared behind the first one.
‘Damn…’
T h i s w a s c o p i e d fro m k in gm t l .or g
I should have eaten everything inside.
It was a moment when I regretted the food in my backpack.
End of Chapter
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Kzalca
I thought I’d be sick of zombie stories but so far, for some reason, I like this one so far!
Thanks for the chapter!