Jobless Man’s Zombie Survival Life - Chapter 1: What Happened Before

Chapter 1: What Happened Before

“Zombie Outbreak”… that’s what I’m calling it for now.

The day it all kicked off, I was chilling on the engawa, cigarette dangling from my lips, staring at the garden, lost in thought.

It was that time of year, just before the rainy season hit.

Getting muggy, that kind of vibe.

It was probably right after lunch, so not quite 1 p.m. yet.

Can’t remember what I was thinking about—probably nothing important, so who cares.

As a jobless guy, I had time to burn.

Yeah, jobless. Back then, I was in my early thirties and unemployed. Still am, mind you.

How’d I end up jobless? Simple story.

Let’s get that out of the way first.

※

I got fired for beating the crap out of my company’s president.

Hold up, though—it wasn’t just my fault.

I didn’t go around smacking greasy old men for kicks.

I’m not some psycho who gets off on random violence.

It happened at a welcome party for the new hires.

A pointless, unpaid drinking session I had no interest in attending. But, y’know, I was still a “proper” member of society.

Couldn’t exactly say no—classic weak Japanese mentality.

So there I was, fake-laughing, nodding along to my boss’s lame stories, sipping watered-down oolong-hai, just waiting for time to crawl by.

I smoke like a chimney, but I can’t handle booze.

Just another typical drinking party.

The main event wrapped up, and it was time for the second round—optional, of course.

No way I was going to that, so I grabbed my stuff and headed to the paid parking lot to wait for the designated driver service.

That’s when I heard it—arguing voices.

I glanced toward the alley leading to the love hotel district.

There, in the shadows, was our president—looking like a damn tanuki with his fat build—grabbing the arm of a young female employee.

She was the star of the welcome party, fresh out of junior college, all bright and shiny.

Can’t recall much about her now, but I think she was pretty cute.

During the party, the president was all over her, clearly marking her as his “favorite.”

Married man, yet so full of energy. No wonder he’s in my top ten most-hated people.

She was pleading, voice strained, “Please stop, let me go,” but the more she resisted, the more excited and aggressive he got.

Slurring his words, he was shouting gross stuff like, “Just the tip! Just the tip!”

Long story short, the drunk-as-hell president was trying to drag her into a nearby love hotel.

To be honest, I was in a foul mood that night.

Those drinking parties usually end by 8 p.m., but this one dragged past 9 because the president kept whining to extend it.

Probably thought he could charm her in that extra time.

So yeah, I was pissed. Normally, I’d be home, chilling in the bath, gaming, or watching a movie.

That tanuki bastard was ruining my precious relaxation time, and now he was pulling this crap right in front of me.

My booze-dulled brain settled on a single solution.

I sprinted over and landed a picture-perfect dropkick square on the tanuki president’s back.

What followed was pure chaos.

He flew forward, face-planting, and I straddled him, yanking out what little hair he had left.

Cackling like a maniac, I slammed my elbow into his back over and over.

In front of the wide-eyed girl, I kicked his fat ass like a soccer ball, making it sing.

Guess my subconscious had a lot of pent-up rage against him.

Even in a noisy nightlife district, our duet of screams and weird noises stood out.

A pair of patrolling cops spotted me in a heartbeat and pinned me down just as fast.

And that’s how I got fired.

Technically, it was a “voluntary resignation” due to various circumstances.

The girl, bless her, frantically explained to the cops what the president did and how I stepped in.

I was stuck in a holding cell at the police station, so I didn’t know at the time. Sorry for the trouble, officers.

As the booze wore off, my dumb ass was thinking, “Oh crap, what now? Well, feels good, so maybe it’s a wash.”

Word of the incident reached the parent company, and the tanuki got demoted from president to some dead-end desk job.

A sharp-looking employee from the parent company came to me, explaining the situation.

Basically, “The company won’t sue you, so take the severance (plus hush money) and keep quiet.”

Big corporate cover-up vibes.

I’d caused such a scene I couldn’t stay at that company—nor did I want to—so I took the deal and became officially unemployed.

The severance was pretty hefty.

Guess the parent company really wanted my silence.

And that’s how I ended up jobless, living day after day in a haze.

Got a bit long-winded there. I’ll pick this up later.