RE: Survival - Chapter 17

**June 2017**

Six months into the zombie apocalypse.

**Present**

Yohan noticed a shadow moving around the food section on the second basement level.

“There shouldn’t be anything left to gather in the food section…”

The shadow turned out to be a woman in her late thirties or early forties. It was the same woman who had thrown a soiled diaper at him when he threatened the camp members before, carrying a newborn on her back. She was hurriedly grabbing baby formula.

“What are you doing here?”

At Yohan’s voice, the woman let out a startled gasp, dropping the baby formula. Yohan picked up the canister that had rolled to his feet and handed it back to her.

“The baby’s formula has run out…”

The baby formula had been excluded from the primary inventory due to storage limitations, marked for later allocation if food supplies ran low. The decision to exclude it initially had, in fact, considered the presence of the infant.

“Formula isn’t part of the managed supplies right now.”

“Does… does that mean I can just take it?”

“Unless food runs out, I don’t think anyone would choose to survive on formula. Take it without worrying.”

Her eyes were still full of fear.

Was he really that frightening? Yohan tried to recall his actions but couldn’t think of anything particularly cruel. He thought he had acted reasonably civil within this camp, at least.

“Oh, there’s a pallet of formula in the warehouse too. If you need more, ask Jung-hwan to bring it to you.”

“Th-thank you.”

Yohan shrugged and moved on.

A sentry stood at the main entrance on the first floor. The guard post wasn’t much, just a metal ladder propped against a window with an unobstructed view outside.

The guard stations were set up at the parking lot entrance, rooftop, and main entrance on the first floor. Two people rotated shifts, and if anything happened, one would run to report to Yohan. It was a very old-fashioned method, but for now, it was the best they had.

“Hey, what exactly should we be watching for? All we ever see are zombies,” asked Gi-moon, who was on guard duty, as he saw Yohan approach.

“For signs of other survivors, sudden spikes in zombie numbers, or cracks in the windows.”

“Ah, I see.”

“No need to stare too hard and wear yourself out. You’ll hear anything significant anyway.”

“Yes, sir.”

The effectiveness of guard duty wasn’t just in the watch itself; giving people tasks also helped prevent listlessness and kept their spirits up.

While Yohan explained these things, a woman approached him. It was Son Ji-hye, a 24-year-old college student without any particularly memorable traits.

Actually, one thing did come to mind—she was the girl who had vomited at the sight of zombies on the first floor. He almost nicknamed her “The Vomiter” but reconsidered. That was too harsh a label for a young woman.

“Oppa.”

“Yes?”

“This… I made it with some unused canned food. Would you like to try?”

Ji-hye handed him a dish made from canned fish. With most meals consisting of processed and canned foods or ramen, her homemade dish felt refreshingly novel.

“Oh. It’s good.”

The cooking was impressive. It had been ages since he’d had a proper meal, and even so, her culinary skills were genuinely outstanding.

“Hehe, really?”

“Are you good at cooking?”

“It’s my major. Culinary arts.”

In his mind, Yohan crossed out “The Vomiter” and replaced it with “Chef” in his memories of her.

A chef was a rare talent indeed.

After quickly emptying the dish, he returned it to her and didn’t forget to thank her.

As Ji-hye dashed away, Gi-moon and Sang-min, who were standing guard, muttered in frustration.

“She only has eyes for you, doesn’t she?”

“Right? Life’s so unfair.”

Yohan chuckled at their harmless grumbling.

“Just keep an eye on things, engine-head.”

“It’s Gi-moon, sir!”

“You’ll get a name when you figure out how to start a car without keys.”

“Oh, come on! That’s unfair!”

Three days had passed since the camp fully took over the supermarket.

The camp was regaining its vitality, and people were getting accustomed to the routine of rationing and work.

After Gun’s death, Hyuk had temporarily left the camp. He’d said he wanted to bury his brother where their parents were. Yohan briefly considered going with him but decided against it after seeing Hyuk’s determined expression.

Those with courage hunted zombies in the parking lot.

Those without courage but with skills contributed their talents to the camp, while those without skills started with cleaning or odd jobs to do their part.

By the fourth day, there was no one left in the camp without rations.

The zombies, which had seemed ready to overrun the camp at any moment, had been quiet for a while. The signs that Yohan thought heralded a zombie wave had also faded.

He slightly regretted his haste but quickly changed his mind. The sooner he prepared, the better.

Yohan saw two children running around, playing. They scuffled, then began running toward him, eventually colliding with him.

“Oh!”

“Kids, you’ll hurt yourselves if you keep running around.”

“It’s him!”

At one boy’s shout, the smaller boy hid behind his brother.

“Don’t touch my little brother!”

The older boy was gripping a paring knife. Yohan let out a soft sigh.

“All right.”

It was a world where even children had to defend themselves.

“So, you’re the older brother?”

The boy nodded. Yohan slowly approached him and adjusted the knife in his hand.

“Hold it like this. That way, it’s easier to stab with both hands, and it won’t slip out.”

The boy nodded again. Yohan watched him with a gentle smile and patted his head a couple of times.

“Take good care of your brother.”

“Mom says you might be a bad person.”

“I am a bad person.”

“She said it’s harder to feed the baby because of you.”

There was only one baby in the camp. Yohan recalled the woman who had thrown a dirty diaper at him.

Three kids… Surviving in this world with three children must be a challenge, even for someone with superhuman resilience. Yohan understood where her defiance came from.

“I think you’re a good person.”

“I might be.”

The supermarket was peaceful.

—

That evening, Yohan walked to the meeting room in front of the first basement warehouse at Jung-hwan’s request.

Something seemed to be going on.

He had intended to gather the management team soon anyway.

“What’s the matter?”

“Well… there are some decisions we need to make.”

“Good timing. I had something to discuss too.”

Now that the camp had settled in the supermarket, they needed to make some preparations.

First was dispersing the group in anticipation of a zombie wave. With nearly thirty people, the number exceeded Yohan’s ideal limit. Reducing the camp population to under twenty meant expanding the camp.

Second was the lack of medical personnel. To prevent avoidable deaths like Gun’s due to lack of care, they needed a medically trained companion.

Lastly, they needed to prepare for the gang from the H Department Store across the way. While others might feel differently, Yohan had no intention of ignoring a known danger right in front of them.

When Yohan entered the meeting room, everyone’s eyes turned toward him. Seated there were Seo-jun, Old Man Park, Byung-jin, Jung-hwan, and Min-seo—the five people he had appointed as managers.

Seo-jun, seemingly adjusted to the camp, was having a spirited discussion with Byung-jin.

“Sir, you’re surprisingly proactive.”

“Ahem, I just realized that Yohan doesn’t have any ill intentions, so I’m cooperating.”

“That’s wise.”

As Yohan nodded and took a seat, Old Man Park cleared his throat and began.

“I called this meeting because of two issues.”

“What’s happened?”

“First… Soo-in has been infected.”

If he remembered correctly, Soo-in was a recent recruit in the combat team.

“Oh no, how did that happen?”

“He slipped and fell the wrong way while fighting zombies in the parking lot.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

While death and infection were inevitable, this kind of death was pointless. After six months, to die from a simple mistake due to inexperience was unfortunate.

“Because of that, the morale of the combat team has dropped a bit. It would help if you could check in on them.”

“Understood.”

“And the second issue concerns camp discipline…”

Old Man Park coughed, looking uncomfortable.

“Three men recently tried to assault Ji-hye.”

Yohan’s face darkened.

“That’s not all.”

“Please, go on.”

“Seri heard the screams and intervened, but the three men turned on her too. And then…”

What Old Man Park said next almost made Yohan laugh, despite the seriousness.

“Seri stabbed one of them in the groin.”

“Did he die?”

“He’s in critical condition. So, we’re here to discuss the consequences for the three men and Seri.”

As Yohan fell silent in thought, the managers exchanged whispers. His deliberation didn’t last long. He’d known the answer for some time; it was just a matter of timing.

With Seo-jun and Byung-jin engaged in a heated debate, Old Man Park interrupted to suggest a solution.

“How about a majority vote? We could each state our opinion, and if four or more of us agree, we proceed. Or we could add another manager.”

It was a simple, fair approach. Seo-jun and Byung-jin stopped talking and looked at Yohan, who immediately shook his head.

“Sorry, sir. This isn’t a world where democracy works.”

“But, Yohan…”

“All decisions go through me. And in my absence, the leader I designate will make decisions. The rest of you are to follow. We can’t afford to be taking votes in a crisis.”

Yohan’s tone was firm and unequivocal. Yet, no one dared to argue.

“We’ll set a few key rules, and I’ll handle exceptions case-by-case. Though there likely won’t be many exceptions…”

After a brief pause to collect his thoughts, Yohan continued.

“Infected individuals are to be killed. All violence toward teammates—rape, assault, murder—is prohibited. Self-defense is allowed if your life is at risk. Essential resources will be managed communally. Those who don’t work will not receive rations. The amount of rations will be based on ability and performance. We’ll solidify these rules in time.”