Apocalypse’s Teacher

Chapter 74

Poof-.

The dagger's blade pierces through the throat.

The sensation of cold steel digging into flesh and muscle travels to my fingertips.

The body of the fanatic, which heaved greatly, trembles, and within that moment, the pupils glaring at me begin to lose focus.

It was the process of a life fading away, the moment when a human dies, leaving a hollow emptiness behind.

"Huuu...."

Yet again, I kill a fanatic, pull out the dagger, and let out a sigh.

My face was frowning.

It was because of the sticky sensation clinging to my fingertips and the smell of gunpowder permeating my senses.

I wiped the blood off the dagger using the fanatic's clothing.

No matter what, I could never get used to the act of killing; it felt like nausea would rise up any second.

Still, I couldn't stop.

'There's still one left.'

Usually, a branch manager stationed at one division consists of three people.

One killed by the initial explosion, another whose throat I just pierced—there was one more left to take down.

The fleeing laymen were not worth chasing after.

Even if they tried to conceal my identity, the fact that I am the only one committing such bombings renders it a meaningless action.

I lifted my head.

Time had flown, and now the sun was high up—noon.

'...Let's go.'

I wanted to finish the task quickly and meet the kids.

*

Someone was running along the fence of Seodaemun Prison.

A man in his middle age, whose protruding belly fat bulged over his clothes, a clear indication that despite living in such a world, he had lived well and ate well.

Pyo Won.

He had been appointed as the senior manager of the Seodaemun Branch, a man who started as a lowly layman and rose to the rank of manager, often considered a self-made figure within the cult.

That selfish man, who had committed countless atrocities just to enjoy life and its pleasures, was now cursing the god he believed in while running.

'Shit... shit...!'

Why did it have to be me?

Why did the returning bomber choose this place?

I thought my path ahead was smooth sailing.

Upon reaching the managerial rank, one could directly oversee food distribution and freely manipulate the women of the branch, living a life happier than when civilization was intact.

Tap. Tap.

The ember of the unextinguished explosives spat out heat everywhere.

As the cold wind attempted to extinguish it, the smell of gunpowder filled the air.

The occasional whiff of burning flesh reaching his nose... Pyo Won didn't want to know what it was.

Unlike Byeongchan, who died in the earlier explosion, Pyo Won was a man who knew how to distinguish between priorities.

He knew that rather than shouting for a crusade and fighting back, escaping and planning for the future was the better option.

Huffing and puffing heavily, he ran for a long time.

Pyo Won's face lit up as he saw the far-off exit of the prison.

'I just need to cross that!'

If I can cross it, I'll be outside.

In this freezing winter, there shouldn't be any particular threats until I return to the main headquarters.

Survival was the priority.

Once I return to the headquarters, I'll report today's events and offer prayers to the Lord.

By faithfully commemorating the souls of the sacrificed brothers, the elders would likely appreciate my efforts and grant me another chance.

Why wouldn't they?

This wasn't a situation anyone could avoid—a disaster beyond control.

If the elders were rational individuals, they would surely consider this.

'I can do it. I can make it!'

If I pass that door, return to the headquarters, and regain control over a branch, everything would be resolved.

By mimicking that ridiculous faith, treasures and women would all fall into my hands.

Pyo Won steeled his resolve as he continued running, but unfortunately, the opponent was not one to allow such leniency.

Kwoooom-!

Another explosion rang out.

This time, it was much closer.

The exit right before his eyes was now being blown to pieces.

Pyo Won's face turned despondent.

How cruel it was for the collapsing exit to be so merciless; he felt a sharp pull in the back of his head.

Hesitant steps.

Pyo Won staggered backward.

As his face twisted grotesquely like a vile demon, a gunshot cracked through the air.

Bang-!

It was at close range.

Stumbling, his body wavered and collapsed to the ground. Only then did Pyo Won feel the searing pain radiating from his thigh and let out a scream.

"Urgh... Aaargh-!"

It was the highest-pitched scream he could muster.

His eyes half-rolled back, tears streaming down uncontrollably, and his plump body started rolling and scraping against the ground.

Someone approached him.

The young man, now having removed even the fanatic robe he was wearing, walked closer, his face smeared with what might have been blood or stress.

It was Seokho.

"Where do you think you're going, you bastard?"

*

I almost missed him.

Was it a mistake not to destroy the exit in anticipation of an escape route?

Arriving at the exit after running madly with frantic thoughts.

Thankfully, the bastard was right where I thought he'd be.

I approached the manager and stomped on the shot thigh with my foot.

Thud-!

"Aaaaagh!!!"

"Why are you making such a fuss over this? If you've climbed to the position of a manager, you've surely done worse things to others."

The manager—the pig—flinched his body.

Then he trembled, looking at me with a quivering jaw.

What he did next was, to me, utterly ridiculous.

"N-No! I've lived a righteous life! I'm not some manager or anything like that!"

Had the pain impaired his reasoning?

Clearly wearing the clothes reserved for high-ranking officials, complete with an emblem on his chest, the pig shook his head.

Yelling and shaking, his cheeks flapped wildly.

Such a disgusting and despicable sight.

"I know damn well how you bastards operate, so don't give me that crap."

Thud-!

Pressing down again on the bullet wound, the pig widened his eyes as if they were about to pop out and screamed.

"Aaaaargh-!!!"

Some might call this a cruel act, too inhumane.

But I dare to claim.

Showing mercy and sending these bastards off humanely would be the crueler act.

"You beasts."

No, they were worse than beasts.

Under the guise of pilgrimage, these scum fed living humans to zombies and pillaged luxury items in the name of sacrifice.

Among them, the manager was especially vile.

The church's system is one of thorough competition.

Who has contributed more to the church?

In other words, positions are determined by how viciously one has acted.

I could guarantee.

This bastard would grind up hundreds of people without batting an eye for his own benefit.

Click-.

I loaded the pistol.

Holding it against the pig's temple, I searched his chest with my other hand.

I felt something.

Something hard and cold, bent in an 'L' shape, something I was quite familiar with.

It was a pistol.

"I'll take this."

The reason I fired first was because of this.

It's bothersome to face off directly with someone holding a gun.

I inspected the pistol I picked up.

A small revolver that holds six rounds, good for carrying around.

'Three pistols in total.'

I collected one pistol each from the three officers.

Not a bad haul.

That wasn't all.

What about the supplies these bastards brought all the way here?

Sure, making such a ruckus will attract zombies, but since it's winter, we should have enough time to come back and retrieve them.

Survival supplies delivered by around 30 people with serious intent.

And they were brought by the wealthiest scum in Seoul, so there should be no shortage of fresh produce.

"You brought it, so I'll put it to good use."

I stepped back.

Then, aiming the pistol at the bastard's leg, I fired three precise shots—striking both thighs and an ankle.

"Aaaaaargh!!!"

"Think of it as paying for your sins. Not that I know exactly, but the people you captured and killed probably suffered far worse than this."

It didn't seem like he was listening to me.

Well, it didn't matter.

Grrrooooar-.

Zombies were gathering from all sides.

Moving with frozen, slow steps, they had already reached near the prison before I realized it.

It's obvious what will happen to that bastard rolling on the ground.

He'll end up shredded to pieces as zombie fodder.

'Hmm....'

Should I put a bullet in his head?

I debated for a moment before giving up.

'What a waste of a bullet.'

I've already crippled his legs and ankles, so he won't be able to run.

Other fanatics coming to save him? Not a chance.

I killed every one of them that dared to approach.

The ones who ran away must have already completely fled the prison.

I turned and walked away.

"P-please spare me...!"

To his choking, pleading voice, I raised my middle finger and waved it at him.

As I wrapped up everything, tension started to release from my body.

'I really can't keep doing this.'

Seriously, how did I manage to do this sort of thing nonstop in my twenties?

Feeling oddly creeped out by my past self, I exhaled a hollow laugh, and then something cold 'plopped' onto my cheek.

The chill that touched my skin instantly gave me goosebumps.

Surprised, I blew out a breath and looked up at the sky.

"...It's snowing?"

Snow was falling.

Large, white flakes were descending from the sky as if trying to paint the entire world in their color.

There were many thoughts I needed to consider.

Like how the accumulating snow would make the way back difficult, or how I should be careful of zombies buried in the snow.

But before all that, one thought surfaced in my mind.

I smiled.

'Hyesung would like this.'

I miss the kids.