ZFS Chapter 15
by horumEver so often, the bald leader had given Group 1 abundant food, while supplying just enough to Group 2 to keep them from starving. It was a tactic designed to make people desire to join Group 1. However, when Tae Yujun began feeding Group 3 generously, Group 2 felt conflicted.
If food could be obtained from somewhere else, there was no reason to endure the oppressive rule of that bad-tempered bald man. Almost all the members of Group 2 thought the same way. That was when Tae Yujun approached them.
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“I’ll give you food as well.”
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“Really? Is that true?”
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A middle-aged man, the representative of Group 2, asked hesitantly. Tae Yujun responded calmly, his expression composed.
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“Of course.”
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Tae Yujun distributed the same amount of food to Group 2 as he had to Group 3. The group was first surprised, then overjoyed. The fear they had felt while living off scraps seemed to fade as they were finally treated equally.
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“It’s delicious.”
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“So good… it’s really so good—so delicious.”
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Several members of Group 2 shed tears in front of Tae Yujun. Without saying much, he left the scene.
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“Let’s store the remaining food here.”
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“Sounds good.”
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Won Hyuk and Tae Yujun placed the four leftover food boxes in a small storage room.
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“But what if that thug tries to steal these boxes? That would be a disaster.”
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Having witnessed fights over food in the monastery dormitory, Tae Yujun was deeply concerned. In their current situation, food scarcity seemed even more terrifying than zombies.
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“Even if Brother and I guard it in shifts, their numbers are too great for it to matter… Haa, what should we do? There’s no lock, so we can’t even secure it.”
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“Who says there’s no lock?”
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“Ha?”
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With a nonchalant expression, Won Hyuk rummaged through his backpack. He pulled out a simple analog lock that looked like something sold at a local stationery shop—ordinary and unimpressive with no special features.
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“Hey, Baldy.”
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The bald man, chewing on dried squid surrounded by his lackeys, flinched and looked at Won Hyuk.
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“I just installed a state-of-the-art lock on the door here. If anyone other than me touches it, I’ll get a notification alert. What do you think I’ll do then?”
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“Th-That’s…”
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The bald man stammered, caught off guard by the unexpected question. At first glance, the lock clearly didn’t look high-tech, but he could sense a chilling undertone in Won Hyuk’s playful expression.
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“Let me ask again. This is a state-of-the-art lock. If I catch anyone tampering with it, do you think I’ll let them take what’s inside? Or do you think I’ll be angry?”
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Placing an arm around Tae Yujun’s shoulders, Won Hyuk turned to him.
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“What do you think, Father?”
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“…It feels like there’s already a predetermined answer.”
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Thank goodness he’s on my side, or I would’ve been in real trouble. Tae Yujun breathed a deep sigh of relief as he walked away from the storage room.
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Whether it was Won Hyuk’s intimidation or something else, the bald leader’s group didn’t even dare approach the storage room.
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At each meal, food was evenly distributed among the members of Groups 2 and 3.
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Meanwhile, a few people from Group 1 defected and requested food from Tae Yujun. He willingly accepted them.
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Now, only the bald man’s group, along with a small faction of Group 1 who had monopolized the food, remained—together barely numbering ten people.
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With this, the factions in the bunker had effectively dissolved. The once-despised and neglected group had become the largest beneficiaries of food distribution, and the bald leader’s rule began to crumble.
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And within just two days, five members of Group 1 defected to Tae Yujun’s side. The bald man and his lackeys raged at the defectors, but those who had tasted equality refused to return. The bald leader’s group was quickly neutralized.
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“Damn it. If only that pale guy and the scary-looking one hadn’t shown up, if I hadn’t accepted them, everything would’ve gone my way…”
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The bald man glared at Won Hyuk, who was distributing food. Like a deposed king who had lost his kingdom and stopped eating and drinking, he alternated between brooding despair and fits of rage.
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“I especially can’t stand that guy. Acting like he’s something special.”
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The bald man muttered loudly enough for Won Hyuk to hear. Won Hyuk stopped in his tracks and stared at him before pulling out a packet of jerky from his pocket.
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“Here. Try some. It’s good.”
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“You bastard! Don’t mock me!”
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“When did I mock you? If you don’t want it, forget it.”
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Crisp. Won Hyuk tore open the jerky packet and took out a piece of beef jerky. Then he popped it into his mouth, chewing nonchalantly.
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“You damn punk! Are you making fun of me?!”
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Enraged, the bald man, feeling the heat rising to the tip of his head, swung his fist. But Won Hyuk calmly caught it with his large hand, still chewing his jerky. Tightening his grip, he forced the bald man to groan in pain.
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“U-Ugh…!”
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The bald man eventually collapsed, lying on the ground and gasping. Won Hyuk lightly patted his cheek.
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“You should’ve taken it when I offered. Don’t ruin the mood.”
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Tsk. Clicking his tongue, Won Hyuk finished chewing his jerky. Watching the scene from start to finish, the bald man’s lackeys exchanged uneasy glances among themselves.
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“Um… could we, uh, join the line too?”
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“Me too…”
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Awkwardly scratching their heads, the lackeys joined the food distribution line. Tae Yujun handed them rations without hesitation—some crackers and water.
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“T-Thank you! Father, thank you!”
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“Wow. You’re really so kind. Thank you!”
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With even his most trusted subordinates abandoning him, the bald man was left utterly alone, reduced to a pitiful state. Even a toothless tiger would’ve been a more dignified sight.
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Grinding his teeth in silent fury, the bald man vowed to himself, ‘Just wait and see, you pale bastard and that big bastard. I’ll make you pay for destroying my kingdom.’
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At 3 a.m., the auditorium was silent. The men gathered inside were fast asleep.
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Even in a world where the boundary between night and day had dissolved, minimal meal schedules provided some semblance of structure. As a result, few people stirred at this hour.
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The elderly had insisted on carving out a small window of time for safe rest during the day. Thus, a rule was established—between 2 a.m. and 7 a.m., the lights would stay dim, and all movements would remain quiet.
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This rule only became possible after the collapse of the class system. The equal distribution of food had given even the smallest voices a chance to be heard.
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One of the loudest grumblers when the rule was enacted, Baldy, now lay in a corner of the auditorium. His eyes were half-closed, feigning sleep, but his mind was alert.
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For days, he had stubbornly refused the food Won Hyuk had offered him. Yet Won Hyuk, persistent as ever, continued to tease him by offering food again and again. To make matters worse, everyone seemed loyal to Won Hyuk and reverent toward Tae Yujun. This wounded Baldy’s pride deeply.
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Determined to take revenge, he devised a plan to strike at both Won Hyuk and Tae Yujun.
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He had overheard talk of a truck used to bring back food. If he punctured the truck’s tires, they wouldn’t be able to procure supplies, and the public would turn against them.
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Smirking at the thought, Baldy chuckled softly to himself. He stealthily ran his fingers over the handle of the awl tucked into his vest pocket.
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What a stroke of luck! To think I managed to find something like this in the rotting storage room of this museum?
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Delighted with himself, he grinned so broadly it felt as if his face might split. Quietly, he got to his feet and headed toward the entrance, unaware that his restless movements were stirring the people around him.
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When Baldy emerged from the bunker, it was just past 6 a.m. Though the sun had yet to rise, the visibility was clear enough to make out shapes. Inside, the bunker’s occupants were still asleep, and the light outside was adequate. He had been anxiously waiting for this moment.
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“They said it was a sweet potato truck….”
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Baldy licked his lips, his eyes darting hungrily across his surroundings. He could hardly wait to puncture the tires of their truck.
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The dim light forced him to squint as he searched the area. He approached every truck that seemed plausible, carefully scanning for a placard reading “Sweet Potatoes.” Yet with vehicles parked in disarray, stacked and scattered, the task proved anything but easy.
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“Damn it, where the hell did they hide it?”
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Frustrated, he kicked a can at his feet and glared around. As he wandered anxiously toward the main road, his eyes finally landed on the sweet potato truck parked off to the side.
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“Ah, here it is. I’ve been looking forever.”
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His eyes glinted with malice as he crouched down. Pulling an awl from his inner pocket, he prepared to puncture the rear tire.
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Heheh. Say goodbye.
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He raised the awl high, but—thud—something brushed against the back of his hand. It felt like human flesh.
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“Ugh.”
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Was it the truck owners? Had they followed me here? If so, I’m ready to knock them out if it came to that.
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With that thought, Baldy whirled around, a fake smile plastered on his face.
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“Haha. Wait, listen to me for a second, okay?”
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But he froze.
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It wasn’t Won Hyuk or Tae Yujun standing behind him. It was a zombie, hanging upside-down from a roadside tree, its arm stretched out toward him. The flesh that had brushed his hand belonged to the zombie.
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“Ahhhhh!”
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Translator’s Note: An awl is a small, pointed tool used for making holes in materials like leather, wood, or fabric. It typically has a sharp, tapered metal tip and a handle for gripping. It’s often used in crafting, carpentry, and shoemaking.