“Grrraaah!”
Directly beneath the hovering necromancer-type monster, Je Pung-ho, the chairman, stood amidst thousands of zombies, baring his teeth.
“Chairman.”
I found myself muttering as I looked at him.
“Let’s not do this.”
But Je Pung-ho took the lead, charging toward us.
Behind him, an infinite sea of zombies flooded the entire roadway, advancing on us with overwhelming force.
“Is there nothing you can do?!”
I turned to IAmJesus in desperation.
“N-no! They’re not listening to !”
His pale face was filled with despair as he stamred.
“I can’t use my power—not now.”
I understood what he feared.
Every ti he unleashed a shockwave, I’d collapse, losing consciousness. He was terrified of that happening again.
It was a reasonable concern.
But stopping the motorcycle wasn’t an option. Even if we dismounted, it was doubtful he’d be able to command the zombie horde led by the true king.
With no other choice, I swerved into reverse, dodging the incoming wave.
Vrooooom!
For a fleeting mont, I felt a hint of gratitude toward Baek Seung-hyun. The fact that this motorcycle could carry both and two other beings—one human, one zombie—while still moving so powerfully was a testant to its build.
But the road behind led deeper into the city center—the zombies’ den.
I quickly reconstructed the ntal map I’d morized earlier.
There was no escape route.
Every potential path was flooded with an unmanageable number of zombies.
“...”
If I were alone, I might have made it.
If I ditched IAmJesus and his sister, the motorcycle would be lighter, allowing for faster, more agile maneuvers.
But I couldn’t abandon them.
What I carried wasn’t just flesh and blood—it was the weight of humanity.
“Can’t you do sothing?”
At this point, all I could rely on was IAmJesus.
I didn’t believe in gods or saviors, but in this mont, I had faith in this immature boy.
“Yes! Wait!”
IAmJesus’s eyes darted around before lighting up with realization.
“My dad’s church!”
“What about it?”
“The basent! Take us to the basent—it should still be intact.”
“How?”
“There’s an underground parking lot! Behind the church!”
Vrooooom!
At his words, I floored the gas and sped toward the back of the church.
There it was—a wide underground parking lot entrance, partially hidden beneath the rubble of the collapsed building.
I plowed through the debris and descended directly into the parking lot.
Click.
I turned on the headlights, illuminating the scene.
Corpses were strewn everywhere.
These weren’t zombies—they were unturned corpses. Likely forr church mbers or people who’d sought refuge here, only to die before they could reanimate.
“Go to B3! The third basent level!”
“There’s a third floor?!”
“Yeah! There’s a place I know down there!”
The spot he ntioned turned out to be a dead end.
“There’s nothing here!”
“Wait!”
He jumped off the motorcycle and felt along the wall.
“There it is!”
With a press of a hidden button, a shutter camouflaged as a wall began to rise with a chanical whir.
Behind it was a small garage containing a pristine Bentley, untouched and without a single scratch.
“It’s my dad’s private garage.”
We hurriedly parked the motorcycle in the empty space and closed the shutter.
From beyond the underground walls, we could hear the sharp, echoing footsteps of approaching zombies, accompanied by their haunting groans.
I grabbed my axe and scanned the area.
Sure enough, faint glints of eyes began to appear in the darkness.
There were around fifty of them.
“...Hey.”
I called out to IAmJesus.
“Can’t you do sothing?”
Boom!
A shockwave rippled out as IAmJesus extended his hand.
The fifty glowing pairs of eyes dispersed and slowly ascended to the second basent level.
“Phew...”
“Skelton, over here. This way.”
He opened a door at the back of the garage.
“What’s in there? More stuff?”
“Yeah.”
I followed him inside.
It was a surprisingly spacious room, complete with a bed and other anities.
Everything inside was top-notch—even the bed was far better than anything I’d ever used.
But as I scanned the room, my appetite for comfort vanished.
The space was cluttered with a nauseating number of explicit adult items, strewn about without care.
When IAmJesus turned on the light, the pink hue of the room’s illumination only intensified its disturbing atmosphere.
“What is this place?”
I asked, though I already knew the answer.
He chuckled bitterly, his tone dripping with self-deprecation.
“It’s where my dad brings won.”
“...”
“After he got caught by reporters doing it elsewhere, he decided to build this in the church basent.”
“...And the electricity still works?”
“It’s probably backup power. I once heard him rant about getting stuck here during a blackout with one of the won.”
“I see.”
It was an outrageous family history, but now wasn’t the ti to dwell on it.
I turned my attention to the zombie.
It still stood there, obedient to IAmJesus’s every command.
Placing my ear to the garage door, I listened carefully.
Judging by the sounds, the zombies from the second level were mingling with those from the third, creating a chaotic shuffle.
We’d be safe for the ti being.
“Alright.”
It was ti to focus on the most important task.
Turning the zombie back into a human.
This was the mont when IAmJesus would ascend from a deranged poster boy of the forum to humanity’s ssiah.
As he sipped from a bottle of water, I asked:
“Can you bring your sister back to normal?”
With a firm expression, he nodded.
“...Yeah!”
And so, under the vulgar pink lighting, the miracle of humanity’s salvation began.
Boom!
A shockwave erupted from IAmJesus.
The further I was from its epicenter, the less intense it felt, but I still shuddered every ti the ripple touched .
“...”
It was unsettling, even a little frightening, but I chose to think of it as a baptism.
Though I hadn’t been chosen by this power, I considered myself fortunate to be near it, hoping to absorb even the smallest fragnt of its divinity.
“Sis.”
IAmJesus gazed solemnly at the zombie.
I could feel an intangible energy transferring from him to her.
Sure enough, the zombie’s complexion began to change.
The pale gray faded, replaced by a faint rosy hue—like human skin.
Gulp.
I watched this miracle unfold, awaiting the next mont with bated breath.
“Sis, can you hear ?”
He reached out to touch her face.
But his hand never made it.
The mont she opened her eyes and saw him—
“AAAAAHHH!”
She scread, flinging his hand away.
In her panic, she stumbled backward over one of the adult items littering the floor.
“AAAAHHHH!”
She writhed on the ground, desperately trying to distance herself from him.
“Sis?!”
IAmJesus’s voice trembled.
But his sister scread at him:
“Get away from ! Don’t co near , you bastard!”
Her frantic movents were filled with more revulsion than I had imagined possible.
“Sis.”
IAmJesus’s face turned ghostly pale.
“You disgust ! You look like a monkey, and you’re hitting on ? If it weren’t for Dad, I wouldn’t even look at you!”
Her expression suddenly froze.
The woman who had been spewing venom now wore an expression of sheer terror.
“Pastor... please don’t.”
She was staring into empty space.
“Why are you doing this? I’ll call the police—I’ll report you.”
She spoke vividly, as though the ghost of IAmJesus’s father stood before her.
“No, Pastor. You can’t do this. We shouldn’t—please, we can’t...”
She gestured toward the empty air with a mix of fear and pleading, her face contorting as she cried and laughed in turns.
She no longer even acknowledged IAmJesus.
“Pastor, just this once, okay? What if Dong-pil finds out? You know he likes , right?”
Caught in so incomprehensible dream, she was parroting words from her past.
“Dong-pil? I don’t feel anything for him. Honestly, he’s a burden.”
The idea that she had returned to humanity was an illusion.
IAmJesus’s power had only temporarily rekindled fragnts of her forr mories.
Like a malfunctioning record player, she was stuck repeating disjointed, haunting snippets of her past.
“...”
I glanced at IAmJesus.
The scruffy, unkempt young man stood frozen, staring silently at the remnants of the woman he once loved.
“I’m pregnant. What do I do? Are you going to throw away like that other woman?”
Her words hinted at a vulgar, sordid reality. I left the room, focusing on the distant sounds of the outside world.
“...”
The mont I looked away, IAmJesus collapsed.
He buried his face in what might have been his father’s bed and wept bitterly.
While he cried, the zombie—its human façade fading—stood motionless, its vacant gray eyes staring indifferently at the sobbing man.
His crying didn’t last long.
Wiping his tears with his sleeve, IAmJesus stood resolutely.
“Skelton.”
In that instant, I noticed a change in him.
“Let’s go.”
His face was unburdened as he spoke.
“What?”
“I think we can get out of here.”
“And your sister?”
He gave a forlorn smile in reply.
“...She’s just a zombie, isn’t she?”
In that brief mont, the boy had transford into a man.
Like a cicada shedding its skin, he was ready to take flight.
“Skree-skree...”
IAmJesus chuckled softly, a private joke shared between us, before smiling shyly in my direction.
I returned his smile and followed him.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Now, he exuded the aura of a monster.
Not just his eyes, but his entire being radiated a dazzling glow.
The zombies before us were nothing.
As darkness fell, thousands of glowing eyes watched us from beyond the shadows. Above them lood the unholy figure of the faceless necromancer monster once more.
Clink.
I readied my weapon, standing beside IAmJesus.
But I knew there’d be no place for in this fight.
The necromancer raised its arms, its aura pulsing as it commanded its horde.
Thousands of zombies surged toward us like a monstrous tidal wave.
In the face of this overwhelming fear, IAmJesus responded with a wave of his own.
“Return.”
His hoarse voice rang out.
And a miracle unfolded.
The zombies charging toward us turned and attacked their forr master.
“KIAAARRRGGHH!”
Je Pung-ho led the charge, his teeth sinking into its flesh.
Crunch!
Following him, thousands of zombies sward the monster, tearing it apart.
The necromancer’s reflective barrier, explosive abilities, and electric shocks—all were aningless against the endless wave of undead.
The king of the dead city was devoured by its own subjects, and the city returned to the dead.
“...Let’s go.”
The man who had slain the king strode past , his long hair flowing behind him.
Though countless zombies still stood in our path, they parted for him as if by divine will.
Like the Red Sea before Moses.
*
"From the beginning, he wasn't a bad father."
On our way back, I heard about his father.
"When it was just a small pioneering church, he was a good man. Kind, polite, deeply faithful. He knew every part of the Bible. We didn't have a mom, but Dad filled in for two parents."
He glanced at the cargo compartnt.
Though we had discarded the satellite equipnt to make room for the zombie, the small gaming console and cartridges were still there, squished and lying scattered.
"This ga console—Dad got it for ."
"Really?"
"Yeah. When I was in elentary school, I begged for the latest console—the one that played Blu-rays. But we didn’t have any money. So instead of buying one, he got an old one soone from church was throwing out. It wasn’t even secondhand—it was practically garbage. But he gave it to anyway."
He picked up one of the cartridges.
I recognized the ga. It was the sa classic bestseller he was doing a speedrun of when I first tried to befriend him.
IAMJesus looked at the faded cartridge with a lancholy expression before putting it back in the cargo compartnt.
"Maybe those days were better."
"The past always gets romanticized."
"Maybe."
We were heading to IAMJesus’s bunker.
He said there were still so things he hadn’t taken with him.
The sun had set, and the city was cloaked in darkness, but there was no reason to worry.
I was more concerned about the ntal state of this young man.
"Dad committed too many sins. He's probably in hell."
His voice carried the instability of his inner turmoil.
It was understandable.
For soone who had shut himself off from the world and lived in isolation, he had experienced far too much in such a short span of ti.
"Don’t worry about your father. Right now, focus on calming your mind and resting."
It was sincere advice.
Too much emotional turbulence can drive a person insane.
Especially soone as fragile and inexperienced as IAMJesus.
"…Dad."
Tears began welling up in his eyes again.
"I… I should have…"
His voice, already hoarse, was barely a whisper.
"If I had just said sothing stern to him…"
"You think that would’ve changed him?"
"Yeah."
He looked at with certainty.
"Dad would do anything I said. He worshipped ."
"Really?"
"If I told him to die, he would’ve done it."
"Hmm."
"I lost my mind because of the money Dad gave . Even though I knew he was going off the rails, I turned a blind eye. And now, look what happened."
The familiar makeshift walls ca into view.
We had reached IAMJesus's bunker.
"Dad built this bunker for , too."
"Figures."
While he went inside, I stood outside, staring blankly at the night sky.
I guess I’m no better.
Even in this mont, I was thinking about whether I might pick up a shard of power from this kid, enough to light a cigarette I didn’t even need.
"Skeleton!"
IAMJesus erged from the bunker.
"Let’s go!"
He handed sothing to .
"What’s this?"
It was a gold cross.
"You ca all this way to get . I figured I should give you sothing."
"What’s this between us? Let’s not get sentintal. Don’t freak out when you see the toilet, though."
"The toilet?"
"Let’s move."
As we were preparing to load the most important cargo and leave, sothing stopped us.
"Not getting on?"
IAMJesus was staring at the ground.
To be specific, at a zombie.
The one I had split with my axe earlier.
"What is it?"
"I don’t know. I just… I suddenly wanted to see its face."
"Why? Do you know them?"
"No, just…"
I got off the motorcycle and flipped the zombie’s body over.
Under the moonlight, the disfigured face of a middle-aged man, split by my axe, was revealed.
A nondescript face.
But suddenly, a flash of recognition struck —an image from a news segnt long ago.
"Ah."
I looked at IAMJesus.
"Your dad?"
His face was completely expressionless.
Then, like a puppet with its strings cut, he collapsed to his knees before the corpse, grasped its cold hand, and buried his face into its chest.
"…Dad."
The zombie I had split open with my axe was none other than IAMJesus’s father.
*
"And then what happened, Skelton?"
Su asked eagerly while munching on jelly, her curiosity apparent.
I stirred the tomato-scented soup simring in the pot, made from canned goods, and glanced at Rebecca’s back as she scribbled down my words exactly as I recounted them.
"He went back to the city."
"The one crawling with zombies? Don’t tell he went to die?!"
Su gasped, horrified, but I shook my head.
"No."
I reflected on IamJesus’s final monts.
That man, glowing in the darkness, walked forward with his arms wide open, stepping voluntarily toward the countless undead with their gaping maws directed at him.
"…He went to save the zombies."
"Like a ssiah?"
"Probably."
I allowed myself a bitter smile and pulled the cigarette from my pocket. Its color remained black.
Which ant he wasn’t my ssiah, at least.
Not that I was looking for one.
“Maem maem!”
Su let out a strange noise, swinging a ga cartridge and an adult toy in the air.
Rebecca muttered that he was insane, but I didn’t agree with her.
Since that day, I’ve occasionally dread.
I don’t rember the contents, but the color in them is always the sa.
Ash gray.
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