Marauder of the Apocalypse-Chapter 57: Elimination

A rare day off had arrived.

Farming didn't need daily watering, and we'd finished enough street cleaning and preparations to take a break.

I holed up in my room studying recent trends intensely. Contacting potential competitors, getting information through messenger apps. Street situations, survivor group movements, raiding methods and such.

The world was such a mess that there were lots of rumors, but I managed to grasp the city's state fairly well.

"The market's failed. Powerful survivor groups are lying low."

The military that had entered the city had apparently withdrawn for now. There were claims they were busy managing farming in the outskirts, rumors that the market failed due to zombies pretending to be human, talk that they met resistance while scavenging.

The only certainty was that the market was no longer operating.

Like the school, anything secondary that didn't focus on immediate survival seemed to have failed.

Even survivor groups with other ideas seemed to have realized reality and were trending toward focusing solely on survival.

"Wait until stockpiled resources run out. Only move at night when something essential is lacking. Trading between individuals?"

I stared into space organizing my thoughts.

Don't take unnecessary risks. Only move when facing survival-threatening shortages. Principles worth learning, but not ones that interested me.

I turned my eyes to look at the notes I'd written diligently.

Warnings from potential competitors - like the evangelist elder from Hope Church, RiderZero who I disliked, or police friends who'd built up goodwill - about things to be careful of.

Recent crime methods.

"Luring people by pretending to trade, ambushing while playing dead, dropping bricks on passersby."

Something felt off. Methods that only targeted individuals. Not virus attacks or arson.

'Still worth referencing though.'

My own way to use them. Polish them to be more sophisticated and lethal.

As I continued that train of thought, evening had arrived. I went up to the roof to look down at the city center.

From the villa district's relatively high position, nearby streets and parts of the city were visible. There were dark streets despite no blackout. Areas where electrical facilities had broken down and lost power completely.

My thoughts darkened too.

'Once typhoons or monsoons pass, all infrastructure will be cut. Indoor farming will fail too. Maybe betraying the villa district a bit early would...'

Like figures wandering in darkness, thoughts of how best to survive wavered.

It was summer. A brief shower had dumped tremendous water, severely raising the humidity. A sensation of sticky moisture rather than sweat clinging to skin.

The heat persisted too, making it truly perfect weather for murder.

Perhaps because of the unpleasant weather continuing, the usually fairly harmonious villa district people started fighting over trivial matters.

"Why is my lettuce so small? They should be distributed equally."

"They were distributed equally, why are you nitpicking?"

"No, look!"

Fighting over harvested lettuce distribution.

"You want this much for one pack of cigarettes? Are you crazy?"

"Don't take it if you don't want it. Why make a fuss?"

"A fuss? You-"

Grabbing collars with red faces during bartering.

Anyway, they fought heavily over things they'd normally let slide. Above all, the man seemed to have lost motivation and wasn't mediating, so conflicts rarely settled down.

I quietly hid in a corner observing the atmosphere.

'They were people with weak sense of belonging to begin with.'

Almost no common ground, maybe three months of shared hardship at most. People who'd turn their backs over small matters that escalated into big fights.

Maybe there were even people like me planning betrayal. Kill everyone and the people's resources and indoor farm would be mine.

'Need to betray before being betrayed.'

Trusting people and getting betrayed leads to big losses. Only one way to prevent that loss. Betray first.

At that point the man stepped forward listlessly. After tapping the wall with his steel pipe, he spoke quietly:

"Stop fighting and let's discuss something important first. Several supplies are running low right? Cigarettes, alcohol, toilet paper and such. But we need to be careful trading with other survivors outside."

"...Trying to stop trading?"

Someone spoke irritably.

The man took a deep breath, then explained seriously while loosely gripping his pipe:

"As individuals, do it far from here is what I'm saying. If people find out we have enough food and run an indoor farm, we'll be attacked. Never mention the indoor farm, and don't sell any crops."

A cautious warning. But uncertain how much it would work.

I looked at several people. Smokers and drinkers. No matter how much the world collapsed and survival became difficult, they were still smokers and drinkers.

Just as criminal companions ignore danger to commit crimes, they couldn't overcome their urges.

Rather, seeing their eyes sparkle as if getting ideas, they seemed to be thinking of selling lettuce.

A scenario instantly wrote itself in my mind.

'Could exclude them one by one if done right.'

Suspicion, division, conflict. Could gradually reduce people. Could even create an opportunity to recruit the paranoid man.

"Alright, head back now."

After sending off the awkwardly departing people first, I approached the man. I planted suspicion about several people I'd been watching.

"The people out of cigarettes and alcohol will probably sell lettuce."

"No way. They wouldn't go that far no matter what. That would put us all in danger."

The man shook his head, wandering between suspicion and trust. A sign his heart was wavering.

Someone who would normally be suspicious was forcibly clinging to optimistic hope. If this faith broke, his obsession with maintaining the villa district group would completely vanish.

I spoke calmly with the good intention of erasing his obsession:

"Let's watch and see. Maybe we should monitor just in case?"

"...Alright."

The man reluctantly agreed. He checked his watch. Seemed to be calculating when the blackout would hit.

"These days they say people meet secretly to trade during blackouts. Let's watch then... Monitor for a week."

I turned away with a slight grin.

A week? No need to wait that long. Today was the day. Using the newly learned method of luring people by pretending to trade.

So I did some minor work. Creating buyers and sellers.

Really wanting fresh vegetables. Trading cigarettes, alcohol, canned food. Using spam message format to spread to as many people as possible, including villa district people.

After spending considerable time shouting price offers, negotiating, and arguing like someone truly wanting to trade, I deceived one person from the street.

Trading some fresh lettuce for cigarettes and alcohol.

Time set for during the blackout when zombies weren't around, at a certain street.

And I did this work once more.

Selling lettuce. Only taking alcohol and cigarettes. Scattered messages and found someone wanting to buy lettuce.

The blackout came. The man and I went to the street and hid in a car. A sufficient position to sense people leaving the villa.

Lost in thought, the man anxiously tapped the steering wheel.

"If they sell fresh lettuce people could deduce we're farming. That would obviously be dangerous, but they wouldn't do that."

His voice was almost talking to himself.

Even someone paranoid needed to maintain minimum trust or everything became meaningless. Hence it felt like he was forcibly brainwashing himself.

I supported his words from beside him:

"Probably no one will actually move. They wouldn't deliberately endanger us all, it's not like accidentally bringing zombies."

Just watching just in case, I trusted the street people too.

No need to plant suspicion right now. Betrayal would happen anyway. It was most effective when trust was instilled then shattered.

The man sighed. He repeatedly rubbed his face like someone utterly exhausted.

"These days I feel lost. Don't know what to do anymore."

"Everyone's like that. Jobs, goals, dreams, life plans - hasn't it all collapsed?"

"That's not it. I at least tried to survive by working together with the street people. But is that possible?"

Wasn't that too big a goal?

When even personal survival was uncertain. Making sustainable groups from people without even the bonds of criminals united by crime.

With virus, zombies, absence of law and order, approaching natural disasters, depleting resources - among countless approaching problems, there were almost no talents who could lead people.

Couldn't set any vision or visible goals. Couldn't lead toward a better future.

Just a world where everyone flailed about swept up in disaster. Lives of struggling moment by moment against problems humans couldn't control.

I spoke as if comforting:

"Don't look too far ahead. Just thinking about surviving day by day is hard enough. We can only live focused on the moment."

"That would be easier on the mind. But... Someone's out."

His words cut off. We held our breath and looked out the window.

Under the somewhat bright moonlight, a person from the villa district was walking. Holding a metal bat, rustling a bag as they swung it.

The man ground his teeth before immediately leaving the car to approach that person. Those straight-line steps were extremely aggressive.

"Where are you going? What's that?"

"Ah, you startled me. This?"

I followed after the man.

The villa district person seemed flustered and handed the bag to the man. freewebnøvel.coɱ

"It's rice that got wet from rain before. Going to trade it for toilet paper. Used up all my toilet paper."

"...Rice? Toilet paper?"

What was this? Was this not them? I couldn't tell well since I didn't remember villa district people's faces or voices or names.

This person didn't seem to be the lettuce leaker, showing proper survivor-like attitude.

"Thought it would be dangerous to trade too much or offer good rice, so I prepared this."

"Right... Be careful going. There might be robbers."

The man returned the bag with a long relieved sigh. His voice light as if overcoming suspicion to regain trust.

I looked around frantically in confusion.

'This isn't right.'

Were they too scared of the streets to come out? Or was it this person? Did they hide lettuce on them? Should we search their belongings?

The street person holding the rice bag spoke as if dumbfounded:

"Are you doing this thinking I'll sell lettuce? No, who would sell lettuce? That would be terrible if word got out."

"I must be tired lately, thinking wrong. Anyway, travel safe."

Just as the man was lightly patting their shoulder.

Creeeeak, an entrance opened at one villa. A person who suddenly emerged took slow steps, then stopped upon seeing us. Clearly suspicious movement.

Was it them?

The person with the rice bag swung their bat.

"Are they going to trade too? Hey, if you're heading out let's go together. Safer with two people."

"No, well."

Must be them. I glanced sideways at the man beside me. He had frozen like a statue before walking slowly. He wordlessly reached out immediately.

"What are you doing? No, what-"

Though they tried hiding the bag they held, the man eventually snatched it. For a moment, the man looked down examining the bag before suddenly jerking his head up and grabbing their collar.

"I told you, not to sell-!"

"No, I wasn't selling!"

Shouts echoing through the villa district. While trying hard to hold back laughter, I joined their struggle.

"Unlock your phone. Show us the trader contacts and there won't be any unfair treatment."

"Why should I!"

Restraining the person struggling violently, pulling their hand to recognize the fingerprint. Then checked the messenger they'd contacted me through. Clear evidence of selling lettuce.

The man froze. Unable to speak, just trembling with his steel pipe.

The street person who'd wanted toilet paper raised their bat in shock toward the lettuce leaker.

"Are you crazy? No, this will make people suspect farming, make things dangerous!"

"Let's tie this person up first, then deal with that."

"...How? And what changes even if we handle this? If these things keep happening."

The man spoke in a cracking voice. His mind greatly shaken. Seemed possible to slightly shift his perception.

"We kill the person trying to buy lettuce. Then if we keep luring and killing people who say they'll sell lettuce, no one will believe it. And."

I pointed at the lettuce leaker.

"People who don't care about group survival. Just need to pull out these weeds one by one."

And after pulling out all the weeds, only marauders would remain.