Chapter 6 : Food Security

Hop.

I leaped straight out of the second-floor window.
The wings on my back fluttered, slowing my descent.
I landed on the ground without a hitch.

Sure, I could’ve just jumped and been fine, but if I don’t use these wings now, when will I?
I wasn’t about to let these space-hogging decorations go to waste.

On the ground, I scanned my surroundings.
Having cleared the zombies around the building, it was eerily quiet.

‘That, and it’s probably because it was rush hour.’
This area was a cluster of studio apartments, mostly home to construction workers or single office employees.
When the outbreak hit, most people were likely out for work, leaving the residential area.
That probably kept the zombie density low.

The streets weren’t filled with zombies but with something else.
Human corpses.
Remnants of those eaten or turned into zombies littered the ground.

“Ugh.”
No matter how many times I saw it, I couldn’t get used to this.
The gruesome bodies came with a foul stench that could drive you mad.
I quickly covered my nose and hurried my steps.

My first target was a convenience store a minute’s walk away.
It was probably looted by people or zombies by now, but I’d check anyway.

‘I don’t have an inventory, so I need to secure food nearby.’
In stories like this, don’t awakeners usually get an inventory or a point shop?
Either one would’ve boosted my survival odds.
But my only skill is changing clothes.
It pissed me off.

‘Ugh, no point getting mad. At least my body’s stupidly tough.’
Think positive.
What if my body was weak too?
The thought made me shudder.
A frail body and Dress Form?
I’d be begging for death.

‘Right, stay grateful.’
Sure, my gender changed, but I got a body built for survival.
That’s worth appreciating.

As I steeled my resolve, I reached the convenience store.
No zombies on the way.
I really must’ve wiped out the ones around here.

But the store wasn’t empty.

“…Whoa.”

Business was booming.
Problem was, the customers weren’t human—they were zombies.

In the dark, powerless store, zombies roamed.
They must not have heard the commotion I caused earlier.
Maybe the closed door blocked the noise.
Who knows.

The store was a bloodbath.
Most of the shelves were trashed.
It wasn’t hard to piece together what happened.

‘They got trapped inside and turned.’
With only one exit, a convenience store is a perfect trap.
During the outbreak, people likely fled here for safety.
In a residential area, it’s one of the few accessible places.
Then, one infected person turned it into a slaughterhouse.

Poor bastards.

I pulled a throwing stone from my bag.
Pity’s one thing, but I had a job to do.

The store was a mess, but there was a good chance some usable stuff remained.
No, because it was a mess, the odds were higher.

‘These stores usually have a stockroom.’
Praying the stockroom hadn’t been raided, I aimed at a zombie and threw a stone.

Crash!

Thwack!

The stone shattered the store’s glass and smashed into the zombie’s head.
Its skull burst, and it collapsed without resistance.
The nearby zombies reacted instantly.

“Kyeeeek!!!”

“Grrraaah!!”

Not anger over their fallen comrade.
A ravenous hunger in their bloodshot eyes.
They charged at me.

I waited until they spilled out of the store.
Fighting inside would make looting messy.

Crash!

The zombies tripped over the broken glass, pushed by those behind them.
The ones following stumbled over the fallen, collapsing in a heap.
Their intelligence was lower than animals’.

If they’d moved calmly, they could’ve crossed easily.
But their rush caused a pile-up.
It was like watching reckless drivers weaving through traffic during holidays, chasing short-term gains for bigger losses.

Idiots.

“Groooar!!”

After a moment, they scrambled up, clawing over the glass to reach me.

That’s enough.

Satisfied with how many had spilled out, I rewarded them with stones.

Thwack! Thwack! Thud!

Each stone hit its mark, bursting their heads.
They dropped without a fight.
My aim was flawless.

This wasn’t a fight anymore.
It was a one-sided massacre.

After about ten throws, no more zombies emerged.
No signs of others drawn by the noise either.

The fight was over.

That meant one thing.
Shopping time.

‘Alright, let’s go in.’
After checking the area, I stepped inside.
The powerless store was pitch-black.
Without light, visibility would be limited.
But that wasn’t a problem.

“Hup!”
I focused on my head, and the halo responded.
A bit of energy drained as it began to glow brightly.

The store lit up.

As expected, my halo doubled as a perfect flashlight.

See?
You’ve got to use what your body gives you.
A weak body makes your brain suffer.

Feeling smug, I relied on the halo’s light to explore.
Ignoring small items, I headed for the back door.

Ignoring the “Staff Only” sign, I opened the employee door.

First time back here, but finding stuff wasn’t hard.

Luckily, everything was intact, sealed in boxes.
And there was a lot.
A small store with this much stock?

Unexpected haul.
My mood lifted.

I didn’t grab just anything.
I prioritized long-shelf-life canned goods, packing entire boxes.
I also stuffed my bag with as much as it could hold.

Weight wasn’t an issue.
For me, it was about how much I could carry by volume.

Oh, and I grabbed some perishable fresh foods and desserts too.
In this dying world, these would soon be rare.
Now was my only chance to enjoy them.

Packing took less time than expected—about three minutes.
The neatly boxed goods made it easy.

‘This’ll last two months, even eating three meals a day.’
I lifted boxes weighing around 80 kilos with both hands, then switched to one.
They felt so light, one hand was enough.
I kept the other free in case zombies showed up.

‘Thanks for the goods.’
Done shopping, I gave a small bow to the ownerless store.
I left a few 50,000-won bills on the counter.

Keep the change.
I don’t need it anymore.

I left the store with a light step.

Then.

I felt eyes on me.

Three—no, four.
My sharpened senses easily picked up their gazes.
No hostility.
It wasn’t hard to guess what they wanted.

The abandoned convenience store behind me.

I’d cleared the street and the store of zombies, so they were eyeing the leftovers.
In this area, the store was likely the only food source.

But they hesitated, knowing I’d wiped out the zombies.
They were waiting for my move.
Waiting to see what I’d do with the remaining food.

‘Hm. Should I block access and hoard it all?’
In an apocalypse, food’s value only grows.
Nothing’s produced anymore—just consumed.
The store’s stock might not be needed now, but it’d be useful later.

Scared people hiding indoors?
I could send them away empty-handed without breaking a sweat.
Or use the food to enslave them.

…Hm.

I turned toward the source of the gazes.

One was a child.
Starving, by the look of it, drooling at the boxes in my hands.

No parents?

…

Ugh.

Not too loud, but clear enough for them to hear, I spoke.

“No zombies in the store. There’s plenty of food, so don’t get greedy—just take what you can carry. More zombies might come, so don’t fight. Move fast.”

At my words, people scrambled out.
Like hyenas cleaning up a lion’s scraps.
They bowed quickly, fearing I’d change my mind, and rushed to the store.

Among them was the child from earlier.

“Th-thank you.”
The kid bowed deeply and scurried to the store.

…Right.
Whatever.

This wasn’t me being nice.

Without an inventory, extra food just takes up space.
No need to be greedy.

It was a purely rational decision.
Not because I felt bad for that kid.

I’m more of a soda person than a sweet potato.

Leaving the scavengers behind, I headed home.
No zombies on the way, thankfully.

At my building, I didn’t go for the entrance.
Instead, I moved to the side, where my balcony was.

I wasn’t about to wade through hundreds of zombie corpses.

Those bodies… I’ll deal with them later.

At the side, I checked my balcony’s position.

“Here… we… go!”
Knees slightly bent, I jumped toward the window.
Not sure how much force to use, I winged it.
Luck—or maybe perfect control—landed me right at my fourth-floor balcony.
This body wasn’t just strong; it had finesse.

Thud!

I grabbed the window frame with my free hand and carefully set the boxes on the balcony.

“Phew.”
“Home.”
Safe and sound in my cozy apartment.