Episode 26

“Lord Calyps!”

At Derek’s urgent shout, Noah swiftly lifted his head and peered down from the fortress wall. Just moments ago, Calyps had been standing unscathed. But now, he was clutching his forearm, sinking to his knees. Noah’s eyes widened in shock. Snapping out of his daze, he reached for the binoculars with trembling hands.

Calyps was gripping his left forearm, and blood was trickling down from where he held it. His face was contorted in pain, and as Noah saw the blood flowing beneath his fingers, his heart dropped. A chill ran down his spine. He wanted nothing more than to rush down there and check on him, but his legs trembled so badly that he couldn’t even stand properly.

‘No… It can’t be. It can’t be.’

He couldn’t have been bitten by a zombie. Noah desperately watched as Derek approached Calyps, his gaze fixed on the bleeding wound. With each step Derek took, Noah’s anxiety tightened its grip around his chest.

“Are you alright? Let me take a look at your injury.”

Derek knelt beside the fallen Calyps and immediately inspected the wound on his arm. Fortunately, it wasn’t a bite or an injury inflicted by a zombie. Letting out a relieved sigh, Derek examined the wound more closely.

“Haa…”

From the looks of it, just as Noah had feared, Calyps had been unlucky enough to get hit by a stray bullet. The wound was deep, and blood was pouring from his forearm. It wasn’t a zombie bite, but that didn’t mean it was a minor injury either. Derek’s brow furrowed instinctively.

“When exactly did you get shot?”

“During the approach.”

Derek sighed in frustration. There was no point in scolding him for not mentioning it earlier. Instead, he was left feeling frustrated with himself for not noticing that Calyps had been shot, despite being right beside him the entire time. With guilt flashing across his face, Derek glanced at Calyps, whose features were twisted in pain.

But Calyps wasn’t paying attention to Derek’s expression. Instead, he lifted his gaze toward the fortress wall, where Noah stood alone.

Though the distance was too great to see his face clearly, Calyps had no doubt—Noah must have been looking down at them with the same uneasy expression he had when they parted. No, perhaps even worse. Imagining Noah’s anxious face, Calyps slowly pushed himself up and scanned their surroundings.

Fortunately, thanks to the recent cheers of the people on the wall, the zombies that had been swarming toward them had scattered in different directions. There were no immediate threats nearby. Even the ones that had been closing in were swiftly taken care of by the people on the wall. That brief moment of distraction allowed Calyps and Derek to catch their breath in the middle of the zombie-infested courtyard.

But that didn’t mean they were safe. They had to get out of there quickly. Derek remained alert, scanning their surroundings as he pulled a cloth from his pocket. Without hesitation, he wrapped it tightly around Calyps’s bleeding arm. A sharp groan escaped from Calyps’s lips as the pressure sent a wave of pain through him.

“Kuh!”

“This will have to do for now.”

With the zombies momentarily distracted, the two of them hurried back toward the fortress wall. From above, Noah watched with trembling eyes, anxiety eating away at him. Thanks to the people on the wall drawing the zombies’ attention, Calyps and Derek managed to climb up safely.

The moment Calyps set foot back on the wall, Noah’s gaze locked onto his wound. A soft groan escaped his lips. Then, a strange sense of déjà vu washed over him. He fell deep into thought. A few seconds later, realization struck, and his eyes darkened as he looked at the injured Calyps.

‘…It’s just like in the drama.’

Calyps’s injury was eerily similar to the one he had sustained early in the drama. The location of the wound, the circumstances leading up to it—everything was identical. The only difference was the setting. Other than that, it was exactly the same.

‘So, in the end… whether it happens sooner or later, I can’t change what’s meant to be?’

Dennis’s arm, Calyps’s wound—Noah recalled the faces of those who had survived due to the story’s deviation. His brow furrowed naturally.

While Noah was lost in deep thought, Derek pulled a painkiller from his medical bag and handed it to Calyps. Watching him swallow the pill, Derek carefully untied the temporary bandage wrapped around his arm. A low groan escaped from Calyps’s lips.

“I’ll disinfect it first. It’s going to hurt.”

With that warning, Derek poured disinfectant over the wound. Calyps clenched his teeth as the pain surged through him. After completing the initial disinfection, Derek administered a local anesthetic and then rewrapped the wound with a clean cloth.

“I can’t examine the injury properly right now, so this will have to do for now. Keep your arm raised.”

To minimize blood loss, Derek instructed him to lift his arm above his heart while applying firm pressure to the wound. If it was just a simple through-and-through gunshot wound, that would be fortunate. But if any fragments remained, they would have to be removed. However, it was too dark to conduct a proper examination here.

Clicking his tongue, Derek glanced toward the building. Despite the mutant zombie’s death, no light shone from within, and the doors remained tightly locked. Seeing this, Derek let out a weary sigh.

“It seems they have no intention of opening the doors until all the zombies are gone.”

He understood their fears. It was likely the best decision for their safety. But even knowing that, it was frustrating.

Derek shifted his gaze back to the fortress wall. About twenty people were still shooting at the zombies below. However, since most of them had never received proper training, more than half of their shots missed their targets. Grief for their fallen comrades and the sheer terror of the undead had driven them into a frenzied state, making them reckless.

Precious bullets were wasted throughout the night, raining down on the garden below. Even as dawn broke, the gunfire continued without pause. As the situation remained unchanged, Derek made up his mind. At the first light of day, he tended to Calyps’s wound.

Operating in an unsanitary, makeshift environment with limited medical supplies, extracting the bullet from Calyps’s arm was no easy task—even for a skilled doctor.

“Lord Calyps, I’ve removed the bullet, but we’ll have to monitor your condition.”

“Thank you, Derek.”

“However, in these conditions, there’s a high risk of secondary infection… and the long-term effects could be severe.”

Despite Derek’s warning about possible lasting complications, Calyps merely gave a calm nod. Taking the medicine Derek handed him, he cast a brief glance at Noah, who sat dazed on the other side. He looked as though his soul had left his body. Watching him for a moment, Calyps then turned his attention to the scene below the wall.

The garden was teeming with zombies again, just as many as before, their bodies piling up alongside the countless corpses already littering the ground. Clicking his tongue in irritation, he muttered,

“Damn it. This is never going to end.”

“Persistent bastards.”

No matter how many they killed, the undead continued to crawl in through the cracks, drawn by the sounds of gunfire. Unless they repaired the breach in the wall created by the mutant zombie, this endless struggle would never stop.

Yet, no one dared to voice the obvious—venturing into the zombie-infested area to seal the breach was suicidal. The radio remained silent, and the survivors on the wall had begun to accept the grim reality: they had been abandoned. And so, the second night passed without any change.

As the sun set behind the western mountains, darkness enveloped the fortress. It was unclear whether the power supply had been cut off or if those inside the building had shut it down intentionally, but either way, the garden lamps flickered out. Like the darkened building, the courtyard was swallowed by shadow.

Exhausted beyond their limits, the survivors on the wall took the darkness as an excuse to lower their weapons for a moment. They leaned against the barricade, their bodies sagging with fatigue. Though their eyes drooped with exhaustion, none could truly sleep—not with the bestial growls echoing from below.

Thus, an uneasy, restless night passed, and the third dawn arrived.

As sunlight poured into the garden, the rising temperature exacerbated the stench of the decaying zombies. The smell had been bad before, but now it was nearly unbearable. The worst of it came from the mutant zombie’s corpse.

As the putrid odor thickened, more and more people on the wall succumbed to nausea, unable to hold back their gag reflexes.

“Ugh! These bastards just keep getting worse.”

“Blergh!”

Even on an empty stomach, their nausea was overwhelming. Derek was a doctor, but there was little he could do about the smell. The constant battle against sickness was draining what little energy they had left.

Concerned about those inside the building, Derek cast a worried look in its direction. If the stench was this unbearable out in the open, the air inside that enclosed space must be far worse.

He was especially worried about Dante, the quiet young boy.

“Urgh… Those bastards inside should at least come out and help.”

“Damn cowards. Do they think they’ll survive by just staying holed up in there?”

Frustration boiled over—not just because of the stench, but also due to their dwindling supplies of bullets and food. The people on the wall began voicing their anger at the survivors inside the building, their resentment growing by the hour.

Derek, sensing the rising tension, muttered anxiously,

“This is going to turn into a real problem, isn’t it?”

But Calyps shook his head.

“The situation inside the building isn’t much better than out here.”

Just as he said, those inside were no better off. In fact, they were like rats trapped in a cage.

Anyone capable of rational thought knew that the longer they stayed in this stalemate, the worse their odds of survival became. Sooner or later, the people inside would have to make a choice.

Calm or panic—it was only a matter of time.