Marauder of the Apocalypse-Chapter 40: Farming

The police captain finished planting seeds in apartment residents' minds:

"Yes, there'll be rewards for helpful reports in the future too, so keep that in mind."

Intent to use them as informants. Though I hadn't suggested this, police seemed to have their own methods of managing power. Practical know-how like reports, rewards, voluntary confessions, encouraging internal whistleblowing.

"..."

"..."

Apartment residents' eyes darted busily. Some coveting informants' food, informants frozen before rewards gripping weapons, others seeking different survival paths.

A woman holding a baby approached the evangelist elder crying streams of tears. Even police subtly turned away making way seeing the baby.

"You're Hope Church right? Could you take us in? If I could just feed my baby-"

"...I'm sorry."

The evangelist elder avoided eye contact, replying weakly but firmly.

"Villa district? Please."

The baby's mother reached out to me now.

Crisis situation. Sirens seemed to blare loudly. Unnecessary manpower. But a baby. I watched the baby fearfully like a bomb. Scarier than most zombies or robbers.

Still, coldly driving away a sobbing baby and mother would seem worse than beasts.

Fortunately a model answer stood nearby. I quickly mimicked the evangelist elder's response.

Eyes down, speaking weakly:

"I'm sorry. We also..."

"Ah..."

The outstretched hand dropped. The young mother holding her peacefully sleeping baby trudged away.

Did I handle that well? Did I seem strange? If I crossed some minimum line people shared, even marauder companions would reject me. From that point I couldn't even be a marauder. Just a madman.

Thankfully people just silently showed dark expressions. Just feeling frustrated with the situation and world itself.

As I sighed in relief, however he interpreted my sigh, the evangelist elder smiled bitterly.

"It's sad. If the pastor were here he'd embrace them all. He had that ability."

The pastor who'd become a symbol rather than person through death. I too recalled the pastor.

'True. If it were him...'

He probably would've become real hope right? Even in this apocalyptic city, gathering people, absorbing various groups, using religious characteristics for quarantine. He had the ability to swallow the city.

That's why I killed him.

The evangelist elder shook his head.

"We're not the pastor. Just maintaining one community is hard."

"Yes... Makes me miss the pastor for no reason."

Blankly looking up at the tall apartment top, I changed subject. Said it was time to head back. Moving all those resources would take quite a while too.

"Let's meet well next time too. Contact the police station if you need help."

"Deacon Kwon, get home safely."

"Stay alive everyone."

So neighbors finished harvesting and parted smiling. No one looked back at remaining apartment residents. The world was too harsh to care about others.

The apartment harvest was divided fairly. Gi-hyeok who used words more dangerous than blades and Park Yang-gun who diligently opened doors received more, while others divided appropriately by contribution.

Peaceful time flowed after that.

Monotonous boring daily life. Rural-like daily life focused on farming.

Scratch scratch, I cut plastic bottles diligently. Passing cut bottles along, others filled them with soil from stolen planters, while others planted seeds.

Endless labor. All-day farming.

Because working to live was a minimum rule, not just me but all street people worked.

Grandfathers, grandmothers, aunts, uncles, young men and women, elementary school-aged children, everyone gathered cozily in villa homes moving hands busily. Playing something like trot music loudly, warmly cheerful.

"You klutz. Making mistakes again. Told you not to."

"Haha. Just can't get used to it."

"Good at talking though."

"Well, talking's my specialty."

Fully blended in, Gi-hyeok worked clumsily while laughing.

"So how's the romance going? How far have you gotten?"

"Ah geez, really. Why ask that?"

Do-hyung suffered under fussy aunties.

"..."

I maintained expressionless, working like a machine. No one spoke to me. Not that I spoke to others first either. Still couldn't understand these human relationships.

Couldn't understand why. Hadn't I blended in well enough? Eagerly helping with troublesome confirmation kills too. Rather late-coming Gi-hyeok blended better.

'Something, something feels off. Too many people maybe? Want to reduce them.'

Too many people gathered in the narrow villa felt stifling. Annoying if someone suddenly turned zombie too.

That's when it happened.

Bang bang, someone knocked on the door. People's voices instantly died, the playing music stopped. Everyone turned heads glaring at the front door. Faint monstrous sounds came from beyond.

"Kraaah!"

"Zombie. Leave it. It'll go away when tired."

People restarted music and resumed work familiarly. The front door was invincible after all.

Occasionally wandering zombies found their way to the entrance hearing noise, but if we just didn't open the door they'd tire and leave. Not even a threat compared to humans who could forcibly tear open front doors.

But I quickly stood. Was feeling stifled anyway, should do other work.

Gripping hammer and awl.

"I'll drive that one away."

"Why bother?"

"Don't we need to move planters soon? Since we have to go out anyway, cleaner to clear it now."

No arguments received.

I went straight to the entrance, keeping the safety chain on while opening the door. A narrow gap. As if waiting, the zombie thrust in hands and face.

"Kraah-"

"Oh, die."

Hammer down on hands, awl into eyes. Must not have been enough. The zombie screamed "kreek" still shaking the door. Clank clank, door shaking unsteadily.

I swung the hammer knock knock again. The zombie's fingers twisted.

"Kraaah!"

Finally seeming to learn, the zombie fled without looking back. Must have judged this wouldn't work. Disappointing. Felt like not properly finishing the job?

'Want to chase and beat the zombie but that's not right. Someone chasing zombies would be weird.'

After disinfecting weapons once, I pointed at piled planters.

"I'll move these once."

"Oh yeah. Thanks for driving away the zombie."

There was a reason farming never ended. Hugging boxes filled with planters, I headed to another house. House holding villa district's hope. Unexpected hope of living long in the city.

"Planters here."

Click, door opened and the satisfied man with several people greeted me.

"Perfect timing. Just about finished."

He pointed proudly at the wide room.

Room stripped of living furniture. Instead shelves lined like library stacks. Our indoor greenhouse.

The man looked preciously at plastic bottle planters like treasures while tapping LED lights installed throughout.

"With just these we should farm properly. Good you brought them."

"Seemed useful so I brought them."

Resources from the apartments. Not just food but anything seemingly valuable was stripped, and there were purple lights too.

Plant lights? Plant growth lights? Brought several homes' worth of lights said to emit photosynthesis-suitable light. No, brought all lights thinking any light could work.

Smart farm? Factory farming? Anyway seemed we could copy something similar. Planning to turn all empty villa homes into farms.

Of course government might someday fail to protect infrastructure or accidents could cut power, but that would end with stealing and moving one solar-powered house.

We busily placed planters on shelves.

"Think they'll grow well?"

"They better. Honestly if this works we'll worry less about food somewhat."

I watched planters worriedly. The planters I first made rotted and died. Still rotting on my room windowsill.

Then Park Yang-gun working here smacked his lips. Not from looking at soil, seemed he had other thoughts.

"Would be nice to raise chickens too. Getting steady eggs would be good. Can't get any though?"

Eggs. Been really long since eating those. Golden streams suddenly flowed through my mind. Steamed eggs, rolled eggs, fried rice with eggs, fried eggs.

Not just me but seemed everyone had similar thoughts as sounds of swallowing saliva continued.

"Ah... Should we request the delivery vigilantes?"

"Won't work. Need to leave the city for real chickens... Worth adventuring for chickens? Maybe we should?"

Not just eggs. Raise them well and get chicken meat, chicken broth too...

Even I got tempted. Then suddenly realized.

If we could be self-sufficient, wouldn't we not need to raid directly? Couldn't we just move to the final form of raiding like the pastor? Turn the whole city into farms and everyone into farm slaves...

The sight before me held enough hope to naturally inspire such thoughts.

Agricultural life reproducible in the city. Post-apocalyptic life recycling civilization's remnants.