Chapter 18: Hope [4]
Day 35 of the zombie.
I witnessed the greatness of slavery and division of labor with my own eyes. As well as the potential of the collective.
***
The synergy between the professor's knowledge and the pseudo-religion was beyond imagination.
'Wow, efficiency...'
I looked at the small window in the door. It used to be a high school? Some kind of study room where students gathered, but now it was filled with ajummas diligently making recycled flower pots.
It's almost like a factory. Humming hymns, some cutting plastic bottles, some combining them, some putting soil in, and some planting seeds.
It was incomparable to the clumsy one Jeon Do-hyeong and I had made.
I clenched my fist tightly. This is hope. This is the future. Having others do the labor and just reaping the results - this is the sustainable future.
As I was thinking about that, someone tapped my back. It wasn't Jeon Do-hyeong.
"Deaconess Kwon Da-in, please check the rooftop. The task you requested earlier has been completed."
It was an unknown ajusshi, a gun-toting elder the pastor had appointed, who guides people around the church building and introduces them. He may be monitoring and keeping an eye on me, but.
I quickly smiled. The religious-sounding voice I had practiced hard came out naturally.
"Yes, elder. It's always good to see the brothers and sisters working together."
As a rolling stone between the ordinary believers and the powerful elders, I need to blend in well with the people.
So I went around looking at the believers farming in various rooms, and then went up to the rooftop.
It's not a big church, so the 3rd floor is the top. Aside from the neon cross sticking up like a clock tower, it's not that high.
Facing the setting sun and the strong wind, I looked around. Then I approached the pile of blocks lining the wall.
"Looks like the paving blocks have all been collected and moved here."
"The brothers worked hard on it."
I poked my head down below. The road where people used to walk was bare. Some kind of sandy soil was spread out.
That soil is a waste. The paving blocks were prepared for zombie defense, but this ground could also be utilized somehow.
"Is it possible to grow some edible plants on that soil down there?"
Even if it's just some perilla leaves or mugwort, we could harvest something. Even if this church fails, the plants might survive.
The elder frowned and glanced at me.
"Well, I've never tried farming before..."
"You, as a disaster response expert, know this, don't you? That look of 'Do I know less than you?' was directed at me. I naturally deflected that suspicion.
"I don't specialize in agriculture either. But I'm more concerned about the lack of land."
The church grounds had a parking lot and a rest area scattered around, with streetlights equipped with broadcasting speakers. Shallow flower beds surrounded the church instead of a fence. It was quite insufficient.
I would have liked to install barbed wire or traps all over, but there were no resources for that, and we didn't have the capacity to carry out construction. Moreover, the elderly congregation would have difficulty moving around, so the pastor opposed it.
"I'd like to set up barricades, but I can't go against the pastor's wishes. Ah, it's time for the meeting, isn't it?"
"That's right. I almost forgot. Let's go quickly."
The elder suddenly lit up with faith and turned around quickly. I hurried to follow him. A contented smile naturally appeared on my face.
'Anyway, this church group is useful.'
A firmly united group under the pastor. As a newcomer, I hardly encountered any conflicts. Since it was all the pastor's order, as long as they had faith, they didn't argue with each other.
Joining was the right choice.
***
The meeting was held in the sanctuary before the service.
The pastor standing on the dais looked down at the elders sitting in the front row. Since it was not the place where he preached to the congregation, a comfortable smile rested on his lips.
"It's been a rewarding day again today."
"It's all thanks to you, pastor."
After some meaningless chatter, the actual meeting began. The elders in charge of supplies, administrative work, quarantine and security, each spoke about their respective tasks.
The pastor listened intently, occasionally nodding and saying a few words.
Soon, the pastor turned his gaze to me.
"Deaconess Kwon Da-in, you've been a great help. I'm always grateful."
"No, serving the pastor is the joy of my life."
The elders nodded contentedly. I could hear them praising Deaconess Kwon Da-in for her deep faith.
It was evidence that I had blended in well.
"So, Deaconess Kwon Da-in, what else should we do going forward?"
"Besides steadily stockpiling long-term food supplies and maintaining quarantine measures..."
I shook my head slightly.
"It would be good to install an emergency generator or solar power generator, but given the current situation, there are too many difficulties."
"That's right. It's unfortunate."
The pastor sighed.
The zombie situation was worsening day by day. Noisy and time-consuming construction was difficult. Even if we tried to do construction, the contractors were already fully booked. Many people were just starting to prepare now.
After a moment of contemplation, I spoke up.
"For now, it would be better to maintain the status quo and see how the world is unfolding. We should continue purchasing food and quarantine supplies."
The proposal to recruit more servants and form a servant faction is also possible, and slightly more aggressive measures, such as hunting unbelievers or looting, were also possible, but we refrain from doing so in order not to arouse the pastor's suspicion.
The church was currently satisfactory enough. There was no exclusion or suspicion.
"Then please tell the elder the list of supplies that Deacon Kwon needs. Let's buy and stock up as much as the church's budget allows."
The pastor said, pointing to a certain elder.
Then, I suddenly had an idea and raised my hand to make an announcement.
"Ah, I have a proposal to make."
The pastor, who was about to end the meeting, looked at me. Since the elders were also looking at me, I expressed my desire and made a proposal.
"Street evangelism is becoming difficult now, isn't it?"
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"That's right. Many of our evangelism team brothers and sisters have been injured because of the unbelievers."
As zombies became more numerous, the streets became dangerous. Shouting and grabbing people to evangelize was too risky.
There is a better way.
"How about announcing the recycling farming and paving stone collection in the name of Hope Church and the pastor? It will be known to more people than now."
This was my own desire.
If many people save long-term food supplies and grow potted plants in every house, I can later loot them all. In other words, it's a method of entrusting farming to many people for a while and taking the fruits.
The pastor thought for a moment, then checked his wristwatch.
"That's a good idea. In these difficult times, we need appropriate methods to reach out to the many worried people. Talk to the elder in charge of evangelism. Of course, let's finish the worship service first."
The pastor clapped his hands.
"Let's prepare for the worship service."
***
"Oh my. It seems like all the brothers and sisters have come. Our Deacon Kwon and... what was his name again? Evangelist? The evangelist brother, please help out outside."
The grandmother in charge of the attendance log and disinfectant muttered as she entered the sanctuary. The door closed with a bang.
As the safety manager, my role during the service was to monitor outside for any approaching zombies.
I glanced at the evangelist. The evangelist, who had grumbled about wanting the respectable title of deacon, was staring at his feet with a somewhat pale complexion.
I expected him to grumble again about even forgetting his name.
"What's wrong?"
"Well, you see..."
I was not very interested and focused on my own work.
Filming the attendance log on my phone. The attendance log was a treasure map filled with names, numbers, and addresses. In fact, just taking this would be a great gain, but I believed in the church's potential and only filmed it.
The evangelist's gloomy voice was heard.
"I had a conversation with a woman here."
"A romance?"
"It's not a romance problem, it's really not worth listening to."
While flipping through the papers, I heard a story that I couldn't just gloss over.
"No, it's not that. I, I killed a woman."
Who is he talking about? His wife? A policewoman? A neighbor's daughter? I looked at the evangelist with a puzzled expression, and he was trembling.
"Is it the friend of the dead person? He was taking an online lecture when he was bitten by a zombie and died. He was a really kind friend who couldn't lie at all. I don't understand why he died like that, and he's crying a lot."
Ah, that informant. The zombie killed him, didn't it? We just put zombies in and blocked the door.
These words almost slipped out, but I quickly swallowed them. I shouldn't say such things now. But no plausible words came to mind either.
Why are you so concerned about the past? What was that woman's name? Let's loot the attendance log. Only words that are not appropriate for the situation come to mind.
Fortunately, the evangelist came to his own conclusion.
"I'm just a little troubled. Yes. I couldn't even say a word to that friend, just..."
"...But you came to the pastor's side. That friend will be fine. As you can see, this church is excellent."
I barely found the right words. The evangelist seemed to smile weakly.
"That's right? After all, it seems that God really exists. He gave the path of salvation to my friend who was in sorrow."
He assumed a familiar prayer posture and closed his eyes. Like a drop of black ink in clear water, his faith seemed to be fading.
Even I, while living in the church, feel my mind slowly drifting away, so the evangelist must be even more so.
And the power went out. Time for the worship service. The time when the world is dyed in darkness.
"...It's really dark."
We silently looked at the city where the power had gone out. A world without light or sound. The moonlight was the only illumination in a world that no longer resembled the modern society we knew.
Even in that darkness, zombies were lurking.
'In just a month, the city will become wild.'
I recalled the road scenery I had seen.
The functions that maintain the city are gradually deteriorating. Garbage is starting to accumulate, and sometimes corpses are scattered on the streets. Human touch is gradually disappearing.
Of course, there was still hope.
For example, this church.
I slowly pressed my ear against the sanctuary door. I eavesdropped on the worship service. The pastor's voice was faintly heard.
- Satan has sent the waves of the plague! Water and birds! Satan's virus is staining God's creatures, but we are only with faith -
I smiled contentedly.
'Apocalyptic theology, well-written. It's starting to sound a bit like a cult now.'
Isn't it most gratifying when the recipient uses the gift well and cherishes it? This pastor may not be the chairman's opponent, but he is certainly a talent who will live in the era created by the chairman.
"I'm stocking up on-term food storage at my house to use it as a sub-base, and I'm using the church as the main base. Let's live by using other people's resources for the time being."
Having more bases is not a bad thing, right? Depending on the situation, if resources become scarce or dangerous, we can move and live.
Villas, churches, campers, shelters in the mountains. Furthermore, using the attendance log to loot houses.
I was in the middle of drawing a map in my head.
Bang!
Gunshots rang out. Not just once. Slowly, the gunshots followed. From inside the sanctuary.
Hurriedly, I and the evangelist opened the wooden door and went in. There, under the candlelight, was the pastor with zombie blood splattered on his face, and an elder who had pulled the trigger.
Faintly, a few zombie corpses could be seen.
The pastor said,
"Satan is persecuting us. He is trying to trample on us, who are the hope to overcome them. Let's all pray."
With blood on his face, the pastor closed his eyes and clasped his hands. Voices of heartfelt prayer could be heard from all around.
The performance of the pastor and the elder directly beating and killing zombies while holding a cross. A production that would captivate even those without faith, and the atmosphere of the sanctuary.
I blankly watched the scene, and felt doubts welling up in my heart. The doubts and faith that the church life had planted in my mind.
'Is it real? Is the pastor really the chairman's opponent? Is it a clue to stop the apocalypse?'
Then... joining, profit, or whatever, I have to kill, but faith has aroused the desire to kill.