Nowadays, the byproducts erging from rifts are considered mundane, but the monsters that appeared in the early days of the rifts were drastically different from what we know today.
The first creatures to be labeled as monsters were interdinsional species that looked like pill bugs blown up to human size.
These creatures didn’t display hostility toward humans but had a habit of gnawing on everything around them. Coupled with their grotesque appearance, it wasn’t long before people started calling them monsters.
Their combat abilities were pitiful.
Although they had hard exoskeletons, their toughness was only comparable to old tree bark. Their movents were sluggish, and most importantly, they lacked any concept of resistance. A grown man could easily beat one to death with a club.
There were other types, but none posed a real threat to humanity.
These early creatures were no different from the exotic species that Europeans discovered in Africa or Asia centuries ago. They’ve since been reclassified as "native interdinsional species" rather than monsters. These beings marked the early days of the rifts.
The monsters we know today ca later.
It was during the era when humans began "pioneering" beyond the rifts, sending expeditions to stake their claims and plant flags across interdinsional lands. The atmosphere beyond the rifts was shockingly similar to Earth’s, and the seemingly infinite expanse of land was hailed as a blessing and an opportunity for humanity. At the ti, it was widely believed that the otherworld posed no threat to humans.
That’s when they appeared.
There’s so debate over what the first aggressive interdinsional species was, but no one denies that necromancer-type beings were among the earliest.
The fact that zombies were reported during those first attacks is docunted with chilling precision in surviving video footage.
The image of a reporter being devoured by zombies on live cara served as a grim announcent: the rifts weren’t a blessing or an opportunity—they were the gateway to humanity’s doom.
Necromancer-types had the unique power to turn human corpses into aggressive mutations and command them like pawns on a chessboard.
That ability has long been considered an exclusive trait of necromancer-types.
But today, that theory may need to be discarded.
“Look at this,” IAmJesus said, pointing at the zombie standing motionless beside him.
“It’s not doing anything.”
Despite the presence of a living human right next to it, the zombie didn’t move or even twitch.
If this were the only phenonon, skeptics might dismiss my claims, arguing that there was sothing wrong with the zombie itself or that, like awakened beings, zombies couldn’t perceive certain individuals as enemies.
But the next mont shattered any ground those argunts might have stood on.
“Noona. Follow .”
When IAmJesus gestured, the zombie obediently moved toward him.
There was no doubt about it now.
A human was controlling a zombie.
“They keep calling it a zombie, but I think differently,” IAmJesus said, glancing at the zombie standing docilely beside him.
“It feels alive. I don’t know why, but my heart is telling it’s alive.”
He reached out to touch the zombie’s face.
While its original features might have been beautiful, the pale gray skin and shriveled visage were undeniably that of a terrifying zombie.
Yet IAmJesus gently caressed its face without hesitation.
“…Noona is alive,” he murmured.
I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
Unconsciously, I had gripped the handle of my axe, and I hadn’t loosened my hold for even a mont.
Even now, I was prepared to act at the slightest sign of the zombie attacking him.
“Can’t I take Noona with ?” he suddenly asked.
I was montarily stunned.
“…?”
Take a zombie with him?
What kind of lunatic would co up with that idea?
Oh, right—there was a story like that on Failnet.
So recluse, not unlike IAmJesus, had been lucky enough to find a suitable shelter. One day, he discovered that an idol singer he’d once admired had turned into a zombie. He brought her into his ho.
That story ended with the creation of a zombie couple.
Expanding on that tale, the recluse, who had been afraid of the outside world, eventually stepped out of his ho and began mingling with the very people he once feared. It beca a bizarre story of reconciliation.
“Do you want to beco a zombie too?” I asked.
“Are you afraid of her?”
“Yeah. She’s a zombie.”
“No, I can control her just fine,” IAmJesus insisted stubbornly.
It was absurd, but his argunt wasn’t entirely without rit, leaving montarily searching for a counterpoint.
I looked around.
Zombies were everywhere.
Most of them stood dormant, swaying as if in a trance, occupying various spots on the main road. So, however, turned their grayish, corpse-like eyes toward us, staring blankly.
“…”
I had a bad feeling.
My blood ran cold as I turned back to IAmJesus and spoke firmly.
“Let’s say you’re right, and this zombie is a person. Can it talk?”
“Talk?”
“What’s the point of keeping it if you can’t even communicate with it?”
“I don’t need words to understand her. We share a connection.”
I scoffed at his naive idealism.
“Don’t tell you’re planning to use this zombie like one of the sex toys in your room.”
“That’s not it!” IAmJesus protested, his eyes shaking violently.
“It’s… it’s Plastic Love! My connection with Noona is pure.”
“Plutonium?”
“Y-yeah! Plutonium Love! Wait, no, that’s not it. Is that right? Did I say it wrong?”
“…Placebo?”
“No! It’s pure love, okay? I’d never do sothing like that to Noona… never.”
Judging by the way his pale face had turned as red as a beet, he wasn’t joking.
“Let’s just get out of here.”
“Y-yeah!”
And so, our odd little party was complete: a man, a motorcycle, a lunatic, and a zombie.
Thwack!
Nothing had changed.
I continued clearing the path, scouting ahead, and dragging the motorcycle along.
The only difference was that our group now included one zombie.
After a while, we returned to the flower shop.
IAmJesus began talking to the zombie.
“Noona, do you rember this place? You quit school and opened this shop, didn’t you?”
He poured his emotions into the conversation, but the zombie only stared blankly into the void with its cloudy, grayish eyes.
We passed the flower shop and retraced our steps.
Whenever we encountered a shop or landmark that triggered a mory, IAmJesus would stop and talk to the zombie.
“Noona, do you rember how good the bread here was? You bought it for once. It was just a cheap red bean bun, but it was the best bread I’ve ever had.”
“Why didn’t we go out that night? You said you wanted to drive the Bentley. I took Dad’s car out secretly, but you didn’t read my ssage, so I went on a night drive alone…”
“Why were you so slow at reading ssages, Noona? You always replied a day later. But I guess that was just like you.”
Listening to his ramblings, it beca clear to that their relationship had never been what he wanted it to be.
This woman probably didn’t care for him.
Not to be cruel, but IAmJesus wasn’t exactly the most charming guy.
“Noona…”
IAmJesus suddenly stopped.
“Please… say sothing.”
I turned around.
“Hah.”
I couldn’t help but sigh.
He was crying.
In the middle of a zombie-infested street, this foolish man was sobbing, his tears and snot running freely.
Maybe, deep down, he already knew.
He knew that she hadn’t loved him.
Maybe calling his feelings "Plastic Love" wasn’t just ignorance or self-delusion. Perhaps it was his subconscious acknowledging the truth: his love was cheap, aningless, and irredeemable.
But enough was enough. It was ti to end this strange adventure.
“Grrrr…”
A zombie had noticed us.
It opened its mouth to let out a howl.
Bang!
My rifle roared, and the bullet pierced its head cleanly.
The "three-bang rule," as they called it.
I didn’t want to believe it, but all I could do now was pray that this ridiculous theory held true.
There was no other choice.
If that zombie managed to call out, hundreds—no, thousands—of others would surround us.
“Are you coming or not?”
Of course, the "three-bang rule" turned out to be just as useless as it sounded.
The zombies that had been aimlessly swaying earlier now turned their heads, and even those hidden in the ruins began crawling out at the sound of the gunfire.
The once sparsely populated street was now swarming with dozens of zombies, all staring and beginning to move toward us.
“Hey! Are you listening to ?”
I shouted at IAmJesus, but he didn’t respond.
He just stared at the zombie who had brought him to tears.
I opened my mouth to say sothing but stopped.
I couldn’t.
Boom!
A powerful shockwave erupted from IAmJesus’s chest.
His eyes glowed brighter than ever before.
Sothing was about to happen.
Sothing beyond my understanding.
“Grrrrrrr!”
But the zombies wouldn’t wait.
Dozens of them were advancing, their arms outstretched.
I raised my rifle but lowered it almost imdiately.
A gun was aningless now.
Instead, I mounted the motorcycle and started the engine.
“IAmJesus!”
I grabbed his arm, pulling him toward .
Boom!
Another shockwave rippled out.
This one was even stronger, shaking my entire body and making my insides tremble.
The intensity was unlike anything I’d felt before.
But the sensation wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
Shockwaves like this were the hallmark of awakened powers—the very essence of their abilities.
It was said that those near such a power could briefly share in its strength.
People like Woo Min-hee and Gong Gyeong-min had experienced it.
And now, here I was, standing in front of a horde of zombies, hoping to scrape so benefit from the fragnts of power this lunatic was emitting.
But I wasn’t the recipient of this miracle.
“Grrr…”
My gaze locked onto a single point, as sharp as an arrow.
“Grrr… Grrrr…”
And then…
The zombie opened its mouth, emitting an unsettling noise.
This wasn’t a normal groan.
The shape of its gaping mouth, the unsteady flickering of its pale, gray tongue as it struggled to move—there was no mistaking it.
The zombie was trying to speak.
“...Do… Dong-pil.”
The dead spoke.
“Is that… you, Dong-pil?”
And not just that—it recognized the one who awakened it and called his na with chilling accuracy.
In that mont, I couldn’t help but mutter under my breath:
“...Unbelievable.”
No one would believe this.
Who would believe this insane scene?
Even if I were Professor Park in his pri, anyone hearing this story would have dismissed as a lunatic. And yet, it was unfolding right in front of .
“She spoke!”
IAmJesus turned to , his face alight with joy.
“Skelton?”
His reaction wasn’t surprising.
If I had to guess, the expression he saw on my face was probably the most serious and grave I’d ever worn.
“...”
There was a ti when I held positions of responsibility, when I had to make judgnts and bear the consequences.
People might argue endlessly about the basis of such decisions, but for us—those who fought monsters—human survival was the highest priority.
I had a gut feeling.
This was no ordinary phenonon.
Let’s consider what this could lead to.
The imdiate outco that ca to mind was this: restoring zombies to human form.
Even this alone would be monuntal.
After all, the sheer number of humans still alive in this world was already overwhelming—enough to beco a trap in itself.
But I knew sothing else.
Sothing my ntor, Jang Ki-young, had taught .
He once demonstrated the potential of beings standing on the boundary between zombie and human.
Awakened candidates.
There are likely billions of zombies worldwide and at least a million within Korea alone.
What if they could be restored to humanity?
What if they, like my ntor, were ideal candidates for awakening?
It could lead to a million new awakened.
Set aside the risks for a mont—the fact remains that awakened individuals are humanity’s most effective weapon against monsters.
Awakened powers had once rendered even , a top-tier hunter, obsolete on the battlefield.
Right now, my comrades are fighting tooth and nail on Jeju Island, sacrificing countless lives to close the rifts.
Woo Min-hee seems to have stayed behind specifically to supply combatants to those forces.
What if we could reliably generate awakened individuals from zombies?
We wouldn’t even need a million—just a few thousand.
With that, the tide of battle could shift.
For a humanity dood to extinction, it could offer a glimr of survival.
“Load the zombie,” I ordered.
Even if despair had once knocked down, it hadn’t broken my resolve.
In the face of hope, I was always ready to stand and fight.
“Hurry!”
I did what I had to do.
“W-where?”
“Shove it into the storage compartnt!”
I was a professional.
“And the equipnt?”
“Dump it.”
I was once called the best hunter among all.
Thunk.
The satellite equipnt was discarded.
But sothing far more valuable had taken its place in the storage compartnt.
“Hold on tight.”
And that, was hope.
Vroom!
The motorcycle roared to life, surging forward.
Up ahead, countless zombies spilled out, blocking our path.
We could take the slope beside the zombies and leap clear, but there was a risk of losing either our passengers or the cargo.
“Can’t we do sothing?”
The next mont—
Boom!
A shockwave erupted from behind us.
“Argh!”
I knew that the intensity of a shockwave increases the closer you are to its source, but this was my first ti experiencing it while in direct contact.
The impact was imnse.
It rattled my insides, made my head buzz, and…
Boom!
A second shockwave followed.
“...Gah!!”
For an instant, my breath caught, and my vision went black.
The sensation was unmistakable.
It was the sa jolt I felt during my psychic aptitude test.
“...”
I couldn’t see or hear anything.
All I could feel was an endless sensation of falling, as if I were sinking into an infinite abyss.
Far off in the distance, a grayish hue beckoned to , as if calling my na.
Was this the end?
No.
There was light.
“Skelton?!”
An unfamiliar but distinctly recognizable, thin voice broke through.
“Gasp!”
I snapped back to my senses.
“Skelton!”
IAmJesus’s worried voice ca from behind .
“...I’m fine.”
It felt like I had briefly glimpsed a grayish world.
I quickly regained my composure and focused on the road ahead.
The zombies were parting.
They were obeying the commands of their savior.
“Ha…”
I took a deep breath, steadied myself, and offered a genuine complint to my companion.
“Well done.”
But this was still the zombies’ world.
And every world has its king.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Each thunderous pulse distorted the space around us.
Hovering in midair, surrounded by thousands of gray, malevolent zombies, stood the master of this city.
A small, infiltrator-class necromancer-type monster.
The ruler of this forsaken place.
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