Apocalypse's Teacher - Chapter 55

Chapter 55

I Have a Dream (3)

***

Dabin’s comic was progressing smoothly.

…If there were no issues with the process, then it was indeed progressing smoothly.

Yes, it was a good thing that Dabin was no longer sulking while waiting for Dayoon.

One problem, however, was that the seven readers had very different tastes, causing the comic’s content to evolve in a way that tried to accommodate all those tastes.

I pondered this issue seriously and came up with an answer.

‘We just need more readers.’

If Dabin’s comic could evolve to reflect more universal tastes rather than just the preferences of the penthouse members, wouldn’t that be ideal?

With that thought, I immediately took action.
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“Dabin, can I show your comic to other people too?”

“Other people?”

“Yes, other people.”

A mix of confusion and anticipation appeared on Dabin’s face.

She nodded.

I smiled contentedly and took her comic.

***

The youngest member of the Mapo Assault Team, Gi-chul, was in a predicament.

Today was the day for cleaning Seodaemun, and as he was cleaning with Hak-jong, the shelter leader, Lee Seokho suddenly appeared and handed him something, causing him to panic.

“…Huh?”

“Go circulate this and write a review.”

In Seokho’s hand was a sketchbook.

The title [Space Police Grand Operation] written in the middle indicated it was some kind of novel or comic.

Gi-chul looked at Hak-jong with trembling eyes.

Hak-jong avoided his gaze and stared into space.

Gi-chul wanted to cry.

“Yes, sir….”

He didn’t understand why this was happening to him.

Really.

***

“Hey Gi-chul! What are you doing?”

Gi-chul looked up with a sullen face at the one who called him in the Mapo Shelter’s break room.

The person calling him was the team’s leader, Jin-hyuk, a hideous muscle pig with a patchy beard.

“Can’t you see? I’m working.”

Gi-chul shook the sketchbook in his hand.

Jin-hyuk tilted his head in confusion.

“What’s that?”

“It’s something Bomberman told me to do.”

Jin-hyuk’s face turned pale.

“…What?”

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The playful expression disappeared from his face.

The word Bomberman triggered his PTSD, causing his body to tremble.

Gi-chul sighed.

“I don’t know. He suddenly gave me this comic that he drew himself and told me to write a review. Oh, and after I’m done, it’s your turn.”
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“Wh-Wh-Why me?”

“He said he needed various opinions.”

Jin-hyuk swallowed hard.

He cautiously approached Gi-chul and suddenly stopped, asking a question.

“There… there aren’t any bombs in it, right…?”

“If there were, we’d already be dead.”

“Is that so…?”

Relieved, Jin-hyuk sat next to Gi-chul.

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His rolling eyes fixated on the open comic page.

His expression twisted.

“…What is this?”

The scene before Jin-hyuk’s eyes showed the ninja space cop massacring the robot dinosaur family.

The brutal depiction of beheading and dismemberment was mind-numbing.

Gi-chul gave a blank smile.

“It’s Bomberman’s work….”

No further explanation was needed.

Jin-hyuk nodded absentmindedly.

‘Indeed….’

How could anyone understand a bomber’s thoughts?

Nodding repeatedly, Jin-hyuk spoke to Gi-chul.

“We may as well read it together. Turn the page.”

When dealing with tedious tasks, it’s best to finish quickly.

Gi-chul, looking hopeless, nodded at Jin-hyuk’s command.

Rustle.

The next page showed the zombie rabbit brothers brought back to life.

And the robot vixen who fell in love with them.

***

A week later, the comic returned along with reviews disguised as fan letters.

Dabin was thrilled.

The overwhelmingly positive fan letters made her so.

=

– It’s so fun and exciting. As expected from the artist, your artistic sense is outstanding. The realistic depiction of the explosion made my spine tingle.

– It’s a comic worthy of being selected as Forbes’ Comic of the Year. Thank you for awakening my emotions.

– Will the rabbit brothers appear again? I hope they live happily with the robot vixen.

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– The space cop is so cool. It would have been better if it were Hong Gil-dong rather than a ninja, but the ninja is cool too.

=

A giggle escaped her.

Her heart raced with excitement.

Dabin, overwhelmed by indescribable emotions, looked at Seokho.

“Ahem!”

Her shoulders raised high as if to say, ‘I am the artist!’
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Seokho laughed and patted her head.

“You’re amazing, artist.”

“Ahem!!”

Her mouth stretched into a wide smile, almost reaching her ears.

Seokho’s lips mirrored her smile, though his heart wasn’t as joyful.

Seokho felt a cognitive dissonance.

‘This? Emotional? Really?’

No matter how he looked at it, it wasn’t emotional content.

It was a comic about massacring an entire family, depicting love between animals and robots, and a ninja shooting down missiles with urine.

Was it his taste that was the problem?

Was the world deceiving him?

Seokho began to agonize over this unanswerable question.

He couldn’t imagine that the fan letters were a desperate attempt by the others not to upset Seokho.

***

A day in the penthouse is long.

After all, it’s a world that has been destroyed.

Daily chores are all there is, and even those are shared, so they don’t take much time.

Most of the day is free time.

Unless you go out to gather supplies, you have plenty of time to teach, play with, and put the children to bed.

In this ruined world, the biggest problem is this.

“It’s boring.”

It’s boring.

Living this way, with all basic survival needs met, brings an indescribable boredom.

I sat idly on the rooftop, looking down and sighing.

‘…Zombies.’

I saw zombies in the distance.

They shuffled around, dragging their feet.

They looked harmless from afar.

But they were not to be underestimated.

‘If they spot something, they’ll probably drool and run.’

I wondered.

Where do they keep coming from?

It’s been five years since the world ended.

Even with Seoul’s high population density, considering the zombies we’ve dealt with, there shouldn’t be this many….

‘…There are.’

There were.

‘Was Seoul that densely populated?’

And was the initial response a mess?

Seoul turned into chaos less than a day after the outbreak.

The army, unaware, became zombie fodder.

And the survivors turned against each other.

Thinking back, it was a disaster.

I chuckled bitterly, recalling the past, then shook my head.

‘No, even if the initial response was good, it would have ended up like this.’

I remembered a group of people from China who crossed over by boat.

Those who approached them hoping for foreign aid brought back news.

-We’re all screwed?

It wasn’t just Seoul in Korea; the entire civilization had collapsed.

The thought made me depressed again.

“What are you doing?”

A voice from behind startled me.

It was the old man.

Still looking down, I answered.

“Watching zombies.”

“What’s so interesting about seeing the same thing every day?”

“It’s just, I’m bored.”

“Pointless lad.”

The old man clicked his tongue and came over.

He looked where my gaze was directed.

“Are you bored too?”
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“I came to see what you’re up to.”

He was bored too.

The boredom on his face said it all.

I laughed.

“When we were running around outside, we didn’t have time for this. We were too busy trying to survive.”

“You were busy setting off bombs.”

“Anyway….”

A long sigh escaped my lips.

“…Do you think they’ll make a vaccine?”

“Even if they do, what’s the point? The world’s already ended.”

It was a rather cynical response.

But it wasn’t incomprehensible.

“It’s bittersweet.”

The conversation, while gazing blankly below, came to an end.

The old man and I fell silent, but then we noticed something strange.

“That one is running?”

“Huh?”

“That one over there.”

The old man pointed in one direction.

I looked and tilted my head.

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A zombie was running.

And in front of it, someone familiar held an axe with both hands.
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“Mr. Park?”

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It was Mr. Park.

Mr. Park twisted his body.

The axe swung and embedded itself in the zombie’s neck.

“Ouch.”

The zombie’s head flew off.

“Aren’t you going to check?”

“I should. It’s not even a class day, so what’s he doing here?”

Curiosity piqued, I climbed down from the railing and headed below.

‘Did he bring food?’

Such idle thoughts filled my mind.

End of Chapter