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Hiding a House in the Apocalypse – Chapter 7

Cat Mom

Chapter 7: Cat Mom

Most accidents are preventable.

The three cats I am about to talk about—Gucci, Hermes, and Jack Field—were also, in a sense, a preventable man-made disaster.

“Ma’am. Don’t feed those cats.”

That woman was a middle-aged lady living alone in the vast wasteland left desolate between Seoul and my territory.

Whether she had suffered burns during the nuclear attack, she always went around with her face covered by a mask, scarf, and sunglasses. I came to know of her around the time I started going to Seoul regularly to beg.

When she spotted me, a burly man, she hurriedly left the scene pulling her handcart, and from her back, I felt a deep loneliness along with an eerie fear.

Every time I passed by, she was in the same spot feeding homeless cats, and after observing her a few times, it seemed she had neither a husband nor children.

Since that’s not exactly a rare occurrence in today’s world, I ignored her and passed by, and soon she must have gotten used to me too, as she no longer left her spot when she saw me.

You could say our relationship developed from one where one side fled to one where we ignored each other.

The balance of our relationship, which had been running parallel all along, was broken by a single incident.

Her cats had grown abnormally large, obvious to anyone’s eyes.

“Excuse me. Can’t you hear me?”

There is no doubt.

It’s a pre-mutation symptom.

It’s unimaginable now, but back when the Chinese government was still intact, South Korea also dispatched Hunters to jointly respond to monster invasions.

Having seen India and Africa collapse and the aftermath affect neighboring countries, it was as clear as seeing a fire that if we sat on our hands, South Korea would be next.

I had seen similar things in the new cities of China, built newly, massively, and splendidly, but practically empty of people.

Humanity back then was more ignorant than now, so they couldn’t distinguish between mutations and monsters. However, boldly defying my colleagues’ opposition, I captured an overgrown sewer rat, insisting it was a new breed of hamster, and that sample helped establish the new concept of “Mutation.”

I’m not bragging, but it means my contribution to revealing the existence of mutations was not small.

Overgrowth surpassing the limits determined by genetics is the most representative pre-symptom of mutation.

The three cats the nameless woman was feeding had already grown to the size of golden retrievers at that point in time.

“Those cats. Don’t you think they’re too big even for you?”

“They’re Ragdolls.”

She made an excuse.

A Ragdoll is a breed of cat known for boasting a considerable size.

But to my eyes, the appearance of those three cats, including the calico, was extremely Korean.

“How are those Ragdolls? Even if you called them the man-eating panthers of the desert, I’d believe it.”

“Mind your own business. Who are you to boss me around?”

She didn’t even look at me properly but spoke in a spiteful voice.

“It’s because it’s going to harm you, ma’am. Do you want to be eaten by a cat?”

“These kids aren’t like that. These kids are angels. Do you know how much they follow me?”

When she held out her hand, the three cats competed with each other, rubbing their heads against her hand as if ancient Western nobles trying to kiss a king’s signet ring.

“…”

I didn’t say anymore.

She’s an elder, not a child, so she’ll figure it out herself.

A somewhat selfish calculation also contributed to my ignoring her and leaving.

At the time, I was thinking about slowly cutting off contact with the Seoul side.

Since I had even received a personal identification number, the need to physically go to Seoul had decreased, and above all, they were short of manpower on the battlefield.

Which meant a high-class human resource like me could be dragged away under any pretext at any time.

It didn’t seem too bad to welcome three mutations as new neighbors to guard my bunker alongside the crazy sniper in the southeast and the Gold pack in the southwest.

Though that woman wouldn’t listen to anything I said anyway.

“What are those cats’ names?”

I threw a question at the departing woman.

“Why?”

“They look cute.”

“Hermes, Gucci, and Jack Field.”

Oddly, she didn’t tell me which cat had which name, but I felt like I knew exactly which of the three cats held which name.

“If you cross it like weaving a net with a dip net like this, you can create a richer texture.”

A quiet afternoon.

I am making a wool felt doll while watching a video by the now-deceased Anonymous337.

The creation I made was a horrific shape closer to Lovecraft’s goat than a sheep, but I am steadily revising it to at least look like a sheep by referencing the master’s video.

Just like Anonymous337’s work up there on the shelf.

While I was deeply focused, the K-Walkie Talkie buzzed.

Beep-! Beep-! Beep-!

This sound pattern is a signal that a direct call came through the personal identification number.

In other words, it’s an important call.

Sure enough.

Caller: Kim Da-ram

“Hah, fuck.”

I couldn’t not answer it, so I pressed the receive button, and a bleak voice immediately flowed out as if it had been waiting.

“Senior. I have a favor to ask.”

“What favor now? I thought you said you wouldn’t make me work again?”

“I don’t want to do this either, but in these dark times, we have to help each other survive. Plus, it’s not someone else’s business. You know a lot of people died recently around the golf course where you live, right?”

“…Was it the Rupert Shibal Palace?”

“See. You know, don’t you?”

The incident where the three stray angels raised by the nameless woman turned into monsters and made the apartment complex residents into real angels was good news to me, but it seemed to be a serious matter to the central administration.

The state issued a kill order for Hermes, Gucci, and Jack Field.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t hunt mutations anymore. I don’t have the skills for it, nor do I want to. Most of all, I don’t have the gear.”

“You’re not the one doing it, senior. I’m sending someone.”

“Someone?”

“A freelance Hunter.”

That freelance Hunter appeared before me riding a vintage motorcycle that was rare to see even before the war.

“Hello.”

Wearing a tight-fitting leather coat and leather pants, his build wasn’t that large, but he gave off a solid image like quartz, and his face looked both youthful and aged at the same time.

“I’m Baek Seung-hyun.”

From our first meeting, he scanned me up and down as if probing me, then let out a nasal sound with a peculiar smile as if he had realized something.

He was the type I didn’t want to get close to, so I spared my words as much as possible and only said what needed to be said.

I had three conditions.

“I will not participate in combat, nor will I help. And I will only accompany you today until sunset.”

Baek Seung-hyun smirked.

While I stayed quiet, he suddenly opened his mouth.

“You’re the Bak Gyu who went to the school, right? From the legendary 13th class.”

“What are you suddenly talking about?”

“Because I went to the same school. 12th class.”

“…”

“The gloriously standing fortress of trials~ We polish ourselves like brilliant jade~ Receiving the spirit of Samgaksan, we are reborn as Daoists of the era~”

Suddenly, this guy starts singing.

It’s a melody I remember in my memory; the school song.

Seeing that he knows the school song that disappeared due to complaints of being tacky after about half a year of use, it doesn’t seem like he’s just talking nonsense.

Looking closely, it’s a vaguely remembered face.

One I might have run into on campus at least a few times.

Of course, back then, both this guy and I would have been more immature and less tainted by the world.

“To think that Bak Gyu is in a place like this. It’s truly surprising.”

“Let’s not talk about the past.”

“Well, I knew an underachiever like me was going to be ruined anyway. But for a top student like you to…”

I gave a strong signal that I didn’t want to hear anymore.

At my fierce glare, Baek Seung-hyun made a slightly surprised expression, then quickly apologized.

“Sorry. No comment.”

He rode his motorcycle, and I rode my bicycle to the operation location.

But even before we got close, a thick smell of blood wafted over, and upon arriving at the scene, torn flesh, fur, pools of blood, and messy footprints were chaotically mixed together.

“What is this?”

Baek Seung-hyun grinned.

“Actually, I had a little tussle with them before I met you.”

Baek Seung-hyun tapped the heavy weapon mounted on his bike.

The Type-21 Large Caliber Hunter Rifle.

Literally Hunter gear—for hunting monsters and mutations.

“They charged at me aggressively, probably having tasted human blood before, but they were quite dramatic. I only gave them a few grazes.”

Honestly, I had looked down on him because he was a freelance Hunter.

I’ll correct that.

Baek Seung-hyun is strong.

Taking on 3 mutations in the open field with just a slow, clunky bolt-action rifle, without analysis or observation, and smashing them up is impossible without considerable guts and skill.

He’s at least A-rank.

If it were me, I’d give him an A-rank evaluation.

“I don’t like meeting other people either. I contacted you because I had no choice. What talent do I have to deal with beasts tracking them as they erase their blood trail and move into the ditches?”

His purpose for finding me is singular.

To help him find the injured cats.

But how would I know?

I’m not a cat detective.

Wait, there is one face that comes to mind.

The nameless woman who fed Gucci, Hermes, and Jack Field brushed past my eyes like a long-standing piece of homework.

The abandoned, standalone apartment was obscured by trash and fallen leaves, creating a dreary atmosphere.

Every single glass window was broken, and red water flowing from the old-fashioned balconies eerily decorated parts of the apartment like tears of blood.

“It’s a cheap apartment. It must be at least 40 years old.”

Baek Seung-hyun looked around with sharp eyes.

“There are no marts or commercial areas around. Just rice paddies and fields everywhere. It doesn’t look like the surrounding farmland is large enough for everyone living here to farm.”

He blatantly blabbered impressions I hadn’t even asked for, then looked up at the apartment with narrowed eyes.

“Still, this is the only livable place around here.”

Indeed, the woman with the covered face was hiding in that apartment.

Baek Seung-hyun handled people well.

To be precise, he had a knack for herding people like livestock.

“Lady.”

Baek Seung-hyun held out his phone screen.

“You know these, right?”

“…”

“Lady. Don’t just keep your mouth shut, tell me. You know how many people these things killed, right?”

“That’s impossible.”

“Impossible, my ass.”

“It’s impossible for my babies to do that!”

Baek Seung-hyun sniffed the air.

He went around to the back of the apartment and came out holding a piece of bloody clothing.

“Among the dead people was my wife.”

For some reason, the clothing he held was men’s clothing, but since the woman burst into tears at that point, the conversation was interrupted.

What came over me?

When I came to my senses, I was standing next to her.

“Are you okay?”

I even offered her the canned coffee I had brought for myself to drink.

A gift seems to be the key to opening a woman’s heart, regardless of the era.

The woman, who had been sobbing endlessly, wrapped both hands around the coffee and opened her mouth.

“…That day, the apartment people all went into the bunker among themselves, completely leaving me out. The one built during the Saemaeul Movement.”

She pointed toward the bunker.

“When I arrived belatedly, the door was closed. Even though I knocked and shouted, they didn’t open the door. It meant I should die outside. We had a bad relationship normally because I fed the cats. But then Jack Field appeared with a ‘Meow!’.”

She took off her sunglasses and wiped her tears.

“That kid walked ahead as if guiding me to the basement.”

Her eyes, with even her eyebrows melted off, were too hideous to look at properly, but those pupils held a warmth that made animals follow her.

“Thanks to those kids, my life was saved. And the kids also saved their lives thanks to me.”

“What happened to the people in the bunker?”

I think it’s obvious without even looking.

Seeing the black soot engraved like a ghost around the vent.

“It seems a fire broke out inside. Smoke came out and there were screams. All throughout that day.”

The secret to this woman’s survival was revealed.

All the residents of the small apartment died.

It may be a small apartment, but it has 60 households.

That means the supplies for 60 households reverted to one person.

As Baek Seung-hyun said, it seems raiders didn’t even look at it because it was a crumbling apartment located in a remote place.

“You don’t feed them now, do you?”

“Yes. Now they’ve grown too… big…”

“Do you have an idea where they are? Next time, someone even more reckless than that man might come.”

At my urging, as if making a resolution, she tried to open the coffee can she received from me.

Whether due to alcoholic tremors or not, she couldn’t even open the can, so when I opened it for her, she bowed her head and accepted the coffee.

Drinking the coffee retaining my body heat, she looked far away, probably cementing some kind of resolve.

“I have a place in mind.”

The place she guided us to was toward a ditch leading to an abandoned rice paddy.

As she guided us, she briefly explained the meaning of this place.

“I found those kids here. I took care of them when they were abandoned by their mother.”

Her intuition was accurate.

There are bloodstains.

“Hermes~ Gucci~ Jack Field~!”

She desperately called out to her beasts.

Baek Seung-hyun and I stood far back in the rear.

Since I didn’t want to look at Baek Seung-hyun if possible, I kept my eyes fixed on the woman and asked coldly.

“Do you really have to do it this way?”

Baek Seung-hyun had put a vest on the woman.

A bomb vest.

I agree with his opinion that this is less painful than being torn apart alive by mutations, but this is, humanly speaking, totally messed up.

“That’s probably what the dead people would want to ask that lady too.”

From inside the ditch, massive beasts bleeding profusely appeared.

Mutations.

Baek Seung-hyun placed his finger on the detonator switch.

I don’t have much to say.

Leaving aside the emotional realm, his judgment is valid.

Scholars say.

Mutations are too smart to be tamed.

The reason they attack humans is because they know what humans think of them and how they treat them.

Just as humanity, once God’s most docile sheep, became God’s fiercest critic, mutations choose to hate humans of their own accord.

This is the prevailing theory about the aggressiveness of mutations.

However.

“Meow.”

An unbelievable sight unfolded.

The mutations were following her.

Just like before they changed, like the cats from those days that used to fight over her touch and cling to her, they competitively thrust their lion-sized heads forward and rubbed their bodies against her body, which was wrapped in a bomb vest.

“Look. Do you see how good my babies are? Even though they became like this…”

“…”

The undeniable prevailing theory was refuted head-on by the nameless woman and her cats.

But that brief miracle was instantly deleted at the fingertips of the man buried in reality.

Click.

Right after the monotonous clicking sound of the switch rang out, an explosion occurred, and light and a deafening roar swallowed everything.

“You work like a real piece of shit.”

It’s probably the first time.

That I looked at Baek Seung-hyun seriously.

Baek Seung-hyun, who had been staring at and observing me the whole time, avoided my gaze just that once.

“…Because it’s a shitty world.”

After letting out a mumbling voice, he left the scene as if running away.

The woman’s body had vanished without a trace.

Only one mutation remained, its lower half blown away, gasping its final breaths.

I looked down at that cat.

The creature looked up at me weakly with cooling eyes.

“You must be Jack Field.”

The ugliest of the three nodded its head as if it were human, and then stopped breathing.

Hiding a House in the Apocalypse

Hiding a House in the Apocalypse

Score 9.4
Status: Ongoing Type: Author: Artist: Released: 2022
Sure, the world has fallen apart, but I’ll live my own way.   Of course, luxuriously and gorgeously.

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