I Became The Necromancer In The Post-Apocalyptic Zombie World

Chapter 5

—–CROW—– 

I stepped out of the department store, stretching under the unfamiliar warmth of the sun.

“Ahh…it’s good to be outside!”

It had been so long since I’d felt the sun on my skin, so long since I’d felt this…relaxed.  Since the outbreak, I’d been trapped inside the dormitory, living in constant fear.

‘Now, where to go?’

It felt like being dropped into a vast open world, free to explore.  The sense of liberation was exhilarating, but also a little daunting.  I had no immediate goals. I wasn’t hungry, and I wasn’t in danger.

“I guess I should focus on the quests.”

The most pressing task was upgrading the crystal.  I needed twenty corpses.  Nineteen, actually, since I’d already fed it the Dongtan lady.  There were plenty of zombies around the department store, but I didn’t want to reduce their numbers.  They were a valuable defense.  I needed *more* zombies, not fewer.

‘…Which means I’ll have to bring them in from elsewhere.’

Ideally, I’d bring in dozens, hundreds.  But there was a problem: transportation.  Zombies were single-minded, driven only by the urge to bite and infect.  And I was immune, a non-threat.  To move them, I’d have to drag them one by one, like I did with the Dongtan lady.

‘Maybe if I put them on leashes…no, even then, nineteen zombies…’

It would take too long. I’d risk being spotted by survivors.

“Wait…survivors?”

An idea sparked.

“Perfect.”

My first outing as a Necromancer had a purpose.  I set my sights on the university, the place where my tormentors resided, the place I’d called home until recently.  The university district.

***

I hugged the shadows, staying close to the buildings.  I didn’t want to be seen.  Anyone who saw me strolling casually among the zombies would know I was immune, that I had access to unlimited resources.  And the soldiers weren’t the only survivors who might pose a threat.

It was ironic that I was trying to avoid being seen while actively searching for survivors.

“Hmm…it’s hard to tell if anyone’s there.”

Like the survivors in the dormitory, those who’d found refuge in the university district were keeping a low profile, afraid of attracting zombies with any noise.  Even in the densely populated student housing area, it was difficult to find any signs of life.

‘Should I yell and see if anyone responds…?’

The thought crossed my mind, born of frustration. But it was too risky.  If there were soldiers nearby, I could be killed before I even had a chance for revenge.

Then…

‘…Did that curtain just move?’

The window was closed.  It was unlikely to be the wind.  Something was moving inside.

‘There are quite a few zombies around the building…’

If there were people inside, the zombies might be drawn to them.  Either way, it was worth investigating.

‘But I need to be careful…’

What if there were multiple survivors inside?  What if they were desperate, starving, and hostile?  They might see me as food.

I needed a backup plan.

“This one will do.”

I found a relatively intact female zombie, reasonably attractive in a plain sort of way.  Why did I keep choosing female zombies?  Because even as corpses, I preferred women to men.  Pretty zombie or ugly zombie, they all attacked the same way.  They lunged, they bit.  So why not choose a pretty one?

“Let’s see…”

A college student zombie in a tracksuit top and dolphin shorts. I didn’t recognize her face, so she probably wasn’t from my department.  Her breasts were smaller than the Dongtan lady’s, but I still gave them a squeeze.

—*Squish, squish.*—

‘This is becoming a habit.’

Once you start, it’s hard to stop.  I’d never touched a living woman’s breasts, but there was something…exciting…about violating a dead body, especially a pretty college girl.

“Easy there, junior. Let’s save the fun for a living woman.”

I took the rope I’d brought and tied it around her neck.  She followed obediently as I pulled.

“Let’s go.”

“—Ahh…”

The zombie moaned in response.

I pulled up my hood and put on a black mask, concealing my face in case of hostile survivors. If anyone looked suspicious, I’d show them the zombie.  Any sane survivor would avoid a zombie.  One bite, and you were done.

‘It was on the second floor…’

I climbed the stairs quietly, careful not to make any noise.  The zombie followed without difficulty.  If she couldn’t even climb stairs, she wouldn’t have lasted this long.

I reached the apartment where I’d seen the curtain move. I pressed my ear against the door.

‘…Nothing.’

If there were multiple people inside, I should be able to hear *something*.  Of course, there was no guarantee. But it seemed unlikely.

I tried the doorknob.

*Click, click.*

Locked.

‘So there *are* survivors inside.’

It was possible they’d locked a zombie inside, but I decided to assume it was a survivor.  If it was a zombie, the apartment was essentially empty to me.

I spoke, loud enough for anyone inside to hear.

“It’s locked.”

—–CROW—–

Now, let’s see how they react.  Two possibilities: they’d stay silent, hoping I’d go away, or…

“[Who is it…?]”

…they’d respond.

‘A woman.’

A woman’s voice, weak and tired, a voice I’d heard before, back in the dormitory when food was running low.  The survivor inside was starving.

“[Hello…?]”

When I didn’t answer, she called out again, a little more urgently. She probably thought I’d left.

“How many of you are there?”

I wanted to cheer, to celebrate finding a survivor.  But I kept my voice calm, neutral.  I couldn’t be too eager.  To the woman inside, I was just another survivor, potentially dangerous.  She’d called out because she needed something.  So I played the part of a typical survivor, trying to gain her trust.  And, if possible, gain *her*.

“[H-How about you? …How many are there?]”

She was scared.  A natural reaction for a woman alone in this lawless world.  She could be raped, enslaved, or even eaten.

I ignored her question.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll leave.”

“[W-Wait!]”

She was desperate.  I’d barely tested the waters, and she was already hooked.

“[One…just me.  I’m alone.  Sob…please help me…]”

My threat had worked.  She’d abandoned her caution, revealing her desperation.  Her voice, once wary, was now a whimper.

“[I’m trapped here, and I’m out of food. I haven’t eaten in days.  Mister, I’m so sorry, but could you please help me?  Please…]”

*Mister*?  I was only 24.  But I guess that’s how I looked to her.  Just as I’d suspected, she was alone, starving, desperate.

‘The perfect prey.’

Exactly what I was looking for.  Alone, trapped, with no hope of survival.  And a woman.

[Growth Quest]

[Acquire the blood of a virgin.]

I remembered the quest.  I didn’t know if she was a virgin, but her voice sounded young.  I couldn’t just ask, “Are you a virgin?”  That would be too suspicious.  She’d never open the door.

So, what to do…

“[H-Hello? Mister…? M-Mister…!  You haven’t left, have you?!]”

“—Groan…”

While I was thinking, the zombie I’d brought grew restless.

“Hey! Be quiet! You’ll attract them!”

“[Oh! S-Sorry…I thought you’d left…]”

She lowered her voice.  A normal survivor would have been angry.  If the zombies came, *I* was the one in danger, not her.

“[Mister, sob…I’m really sorry. But I really don’t want to die. Please…please help me…]”

Unable to raise her voice, she resorted to pleading, her voice choked with sobs.  Were they genuine tears, or a calculated ploy for sympathy?  Either way, she needed my help.  She’d probably die without it.

But I wasn’t going to help her out of pity.  Her desperation was an opportunity.

“It’s a little dangerous out here.  Could you open the door?”

“[……]”

Silence.  She was thinking.  A man, capable of navigating the zombie hordes, versus a starving, weakened woman.  I held all the cards.  Would she open the door?

“[I-I’m sorry, mister…if you need a place to hide, the apartment next door is empty…!]”

Not desperate enough to open the door.  Maybe she wasn’t that hungry.  Or maybe she was more afraid of being assaulted.  It made sense, given her reluctance to go outside.

‘…This will require a more subtle approach.’

I could break down the door, offer her food, and kidnap her.  But she might scream, attracting zombies.  I wasn’t planning on using her and discarding her.  A lone, starving woman…with the right training, she could become a valuable asset.

“Alright. I’ll leave some of my food for you.”

“[R-Really?!]”

“Yes, but I can’t give you too much. I have to share.”

“[It’s okay…! Thank you…!  Really…sob…thank you so much…!]”

*Thank you*?  She’d be repaying me with her body soon enough.

I took out some food from my backpack.

‘…This should last her two…no, three days if she rations it.’

If she died anyway, it wasn’t my problem.  I’d just find another survivor.  But if she survived for a few days…

“I might stop by again if I’m in the area.”

“[What?  You mean…?]”

“I’ll bring you more food if I have any to spare.”

“[…Oh…sob…how…how can I ever repay you…?]”

Alone, on the brink of death, a savior appears.  She would cling to this lifeline, grow dependent on it.

Let’s see how long it takes to break her.

—–CROW—–