Marauder of the Apocalypse-Chapter 41: Farming

I heard farming was hard work. Nature itself was the enemy - everything from temperature and rain to weeds, pests, birds, and deer.

In other words, farming was war against nature, and since humans were part of nature too, you had to fight against them as pests.

I heard this warning from Park Yang-gun.

"I lived in the countryside when I was young. Stealing from nearby fields - those vegetables tasted so good. Brings back memories," Park Yang-gun said nostalgically, his face taking on an inhuman cast under the purple grow lights of our indoor farm.

He talked about secretly stealing corn and roasting it over campfires. The taste was unforgettable - eating with tears in his eyes from the acrid smoke.

I nodded understandingly.

'He showed his thieving nature even as a child.'

As they say, a thief starts small. Young Park Yang-gun started with corn and stayed true to his nature, becoming an accomplished thief.

Suddenly Park Yang-gun glared at me.

"I can tell you're thinking something weird."

"What? No. Just thinking about corn. Wow, I really want to eat some corn."

Sharp as expected of a thief. After eyeing me suspiciously for a moment, he turned away.

"Be careful of people. When you get rich quick, all sorts come sniffing around. Maybe not the farming, but word's probably spread about all the food we got from raiding the apartments. Word of mouth is the scariest thing."

The man who once stole crops now warned about other thieves.

He had a point. I gripped my hammer, expression hardening.

We had gained lots of resources but lacked the strength to protect them. When the weak possess treasure, they become treasure goblins. We'd suffer losses like those amateur police who got hunted down.

'Since we're easier targets than the police or Hope Community, lots of people will probably try to attack us.'

At least the apartment residents had numbers. We had nothing. My head hurt. I pressed my fingers against my temples.

Defense was beyond me. I was confident in killing others, destroying things, causing chaos. No, that actually made it more frustrating.

Methods to ruin this street kept flowing through my mind, but how to prevent them all? What about attacks I couldn't even imagine? Going on the offensive was more fun and less stressful - this had no end.

Fortunately I wasn't alone and could pass some burden to capable companions.

"We're in a perfect position to be scam targets. Assets nobody would normally want are like riches now," said Gi-hyeok.

"Since our resources suddenly increased..."

"I know. We need to suspect everyone. Even be wary of people from nearby neighborhoods."

The somewhat clever Gi-hyeok, Do-hyung with his inheritance troubles, and the paranoid man had already sensed the danger and entered strategy discussions.

Farming progressed with difficulty. Blackout times increased without warning, and being amateur farmers, none of us were confident we were doing it right.

Above all, strange people started showing up in the street.

"Hello. Do you have electricity here?"

Young people arrived carrying phones and portable chargers, trembling like they were suffering from anxiety.

"Why do you ask about electricity? Isn't it still being supplied even with longer blackouts?"

"Birds built nests on the power poles causing constant outages. They're not getting fixed."

While power plants were maintained, there weren't enough workers to manage electrical infrastructure throughout the city. It was gradually being swallowed by darkness.

They habitually pressed their phone buttons, but the screens stayed black, serving only as mirrors.

"We just need to charge. We can trade cigarettes or cola. Or do you have any electrical technicians? Seems like we just need to fix those power poles."

"We don't have any experts either."

I watched them curiously. Just phones. Yet they wandered the dangerous city like nomads seeking electricity because they couldn't use them.

They seemed to have potential to develop into their own group.

At least these visitors were friendly.

"Cigarettes? Oh, those? I smoke those. Perfect. Charge at my place."

"Me too."

The smokers readily offered their homes for the cigarette payment. The electrical nomads pulled out power strips, focused on charging their phones and laptops, then left without incident once finished.

Of course, not all visitors were friendly.

People from nearby neighborhoods came asking to share resources, and others who'd heard our street had good food came begging.

"Neighbors should help each other. Here, take this."

I kindly offered them drinks like cola or coffee.

Visitors blinked at this unfamiliar kindness, then suddenly gripped their cola bottles tightly, noticing liquid leaking from the syringe holes I'd made - traces of injected zombie saliva.

"That's a dirty trick. I won't take it because I'm not that low!"

"Don't think about raiding us. We've mixed it into all the food. You know Russian roulette, right?"

"We're leaving!"

The visitors regained their conscience, showering praise as they departed.

Sometimes truly awful people showed up.

Arson threateners. People grinning while holding lighters, having poured oil on the street.

"Heard you have plenty of food. How about sharing with some poor folks?"

I was getting stressed. It truly never ended. We couldn't wipe them all out at once. Like cockroaches, survivors who heard rumors kept showing up.

Suffering through manual labor with others didn't suit me. I felt my eyes starting to roll back. I forced myself to stay calm and respond moderately.

"We had another arson threatener before. But they poured oil on themselves - why are you all so clean?"

"What?"

"If you want to negotiate, start by pouring oil on yourselves."

The arson threateners exchanged glances and spoke uncertainly.

"We used all the oil on the street so none left for our bodies- no, I mean, if you don't want the street to burn, share some food. We don't need much."

"Just roll around in the oil on the ground. At least do that much."

When I spoke firmly, the hesitant threateners reluctantly rolled in the oil.

Their bodies were soaked. As they opened their mouths to resume threats, I stared at them blankly and pulled out a lighter.

"Burn to death!"

"Ah! Get away!"

"Ahhh! This guy's crazy!"

The threateners fled in panic. I chased them to the end of the street with wild eyes, but sadly couldn't catch up to survivors running for their lives.

Watching their retreating backs, I caught my breath.

'These people are like weeds. Too many pests. Need to borrow a farmer's wisdom.'

We needed scarecrows. Like scarecrows that chase away sparrows, we needed scarecrows to chase away humans.

The daily strategy meetings were extreme. Having initiated a bloody raid on the apartments, the villa people now assumed life-or-death combat.

"Too many visitors these past days. Word has really spread. They're just making simple approaches now, but they could band together and attack anytime."

The man spoke gripping his pen tightly, face dark with worry.

He seemed to imagine the situation reversed. Just as we gathered people to raid the apartments, they could gather people to raid us.

Gi-hyeok glanced at me briefly.

"They came wanting to survive, wanting food. Since this person threatened them with zombie saliva, maybe they won't come back?"

No good. I shook my head.

"They can just heat the food. They left because they weren't committed to fighting yet. If they get desperate enough, they could raid us anytime."

Though we had cola that couldn't be boiled, they could just avoid drinking it.

Do-hyung who associated with Hope Community and Park Yang-gun the thief started offering their own opinions.

"How about contacting the police and Hope Community in advance, requesting support if fighting breaks out? We'd have to give them some food in return though."

"What if we give it then steal it back?"

Just talk without direct solutions.

As the unproductive discussion continued, I stood up, frustrated.

"I'm going to make scarecrows."

"Scarecrows? What kind of scarecrows?"

"Scarecrows to drive away pests."

People looked at me strangely. Suddenly Do-hyung nodded like he understood.

"Ah! To keep birds from nesting on power poles? Makes sense, electricity outages are tough."

"Something like that."

So I went out to the street heavily armed. Inspiration surged in my mind for the first time in a while, making my body feel lighter.

I drew out my inner screenplay writer and focused on the production.

'Scarecrows. Need to reuse available materials. Must be threatening. Can't forget that apocalyptic feel.'

I worked hard. Though I sweated profusely, whether because I worked alone or because I was doing something I enjoyed for the first time in a while, it felt much better than farming.

Lost track of time working, and soon the street was covered in scarecrows.

As I smiled with satisfaction, people emerged from the strategy meeting. They froze upon exiting the villa entrance, seemingly impressed by my scarecrows.

Do-hyung spoke in disbelief:

"You said you were making scarecrows..." ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

"I did make them."

I pointed to the street.

My scarecrows, human crucifixes. I'd tied corpses from the street to trees, power poles and traffic signs, inserting wooden poles in their sleeves to spread their arms.

Corpse crucifixes lined the street in straight rows.

I'd even captured zombies using taser cartridges and tied them up as crucifixes.

"Kreeeek..."

"Wait, zombies? Why zombies?"

"They're virus generators. If we keep collecting their saliva, we can replicate the virus weapon. We feed them leftover food."

Scarecrows with both function and production value. This should keep amateur humans from approaching.

I gazed contentedly at the street and corpse crucifixes exuding apocalyptic atmosphere. With the spy's corpse the man had hung swaying in the wind, it finally felt properly like a marauder's base.

It felt like my territory, which I liked.

'This relieves some stress. People really need hobbies.'

In this period of farming and protecting our stockpiled resources, I'd rediscovered my hobby as a screenplay writer.

Gi-hyeok's eyes trembled before he forced out a laugh.

"You have quite the artistic sense. Wow. This would appear in nightmares. How could you- I mean, this is..."

"Right? I actually dreamed of working in films. I was thinking we could put corpses in empty house windows too-"

Another fellow criminal? He appreciates this aesthetic! I brightened and followed the retreating Gi-hyeok to chat, while Park Yang-gun and the man continued practical discussion.

"Even thieves will run away seeing this. Random people will just turn back."

"Should prepare basins and buckets mixed with saliva. For threats."

"Right. With zombies tied up like this out front."

The zombie cried mournfully, "Kreeek."

Several peaceful days passed like that. Perhaps thanks to my scarecrows, we had no visitors and quiet prevailed. Whether this silence preceded a storm or was simple peace remained unknown.