Jobless Man’s Zombie Survival Life - Chapter 28: Fishing Prep and the Survivor Community

Chapter 28: Fishing Prep and the Survivor Community

The next day, I drove about twenty minutes from home to a fishing store.

It’s a place Dad and I used to hit up often.

If I’m going fishing, I need to prep.

Luckily, I’ve got plenty of fishing line, weights, and small stuff at home.

Thanks to Dad being a fishing nut.

We’ve got a ton of lures too.

So why am I here? There’s something else I need.

I stepped into the store—ugh, it reeks!!!!

What the hell is that!?

I bolted outside, catching my breath.

Oh, right!

It’s the bait—rotting bait!

Power’s out, so the lugworms, krill, and paste bait must be a mess.

I really don’t wanna go in…

My mood’s tanking, but I can’t back out now.

I tied a thick towel over my mouth and nose, knotting it behind my head.

Wish I’d bought a gas mask from that giant online store…

Steeling myself, I plunged back in.

The stench still pierced the towel, but it’s better than before.

I steered clear of the bait corner behind the register and headed deeper.

Maybe zombies hate this smell too—no signs of life, or clerks.

The city still has supplies, so the fishing gear’s fully stocked.

Once stuff gets scarce, this place’ll probably get looted too.

Better grab what I need now.

I browsed the shelves, picking up some fishing line and weights.

Got plenty at home, but you can never have too much.

They’re useful beyond fishing too.

I also nabbed a pricey rod and reel I’d never buy normally.

You can’t have too many of these either.

Dad’s rods at home are probably even pricier—he said, “Mom’ll kill me if I tell her the price,” so I’d rather not use those.

My own rod’s got some sentimental value, so I’ll use the ones I’m grabbing here.

If I lose them, no big deal since they’re free.

From the lure shelf, I took some worm-like ones.

These are supposed to work great for mackerel, according to Dad’s fishing magazines.

Normally, I’d use “sabiki fishing” with a basket of tiny shrimp-like komase bait to catch tons easily, but that bait section’s a nightmare.

Since live bait’s out, I’ll stick to lures for fish that bite them.

I also grabbed some fish-like lures for squid.

Squid eat mackerel, so they hang out in similar spots.

Next up: the fishing knife shelf.

This is goal number one.

I could use a kitchen knife, but since they’re here, I’ll grab specialized ones.

I picked a fixed-blade type over a folding one—moving parts seem like they’d rust.

A small one with a ten-centimeter blade and a big one in a leather sheath.

I wanted something a Vietnam vet would rave about, but no luck here.

Wait—there it is! In the stream fishing section, a ken-nata with a blade over thirty centimeters!

A ken-nata’s exactly what it sounds like: a machete shaped like a sword.

Regular ones are called koshigata.

I put back the big knife and took two small ones and the ken-nata.

The small ones are good for gutting fish, and the ken-nata can double as a wakizashi.

I can rough it up more than my Japanese sword.

This thing won’t feel like a waste to use on zombies either.

…My arsenal’s getting pretty stacked.

Oh, I grabbed two pairs of fingerless fishing gloves too.

They’re handy, but they wear out fast.

Gotta wash ‘em too.

I also picked up two sets of fishing vests, shirts, and pants similar to what I’m wearing, in different colors.

…Gotta wash those too. Once rainy season hits, drying stuff’s a pain.

I’m loaded up, so time to head back to the truck.

I tossed my haul into the truck bed.

I strapped the ken-nata to my belt near my hip.

It’s a bit heavy, but no issue.

It’ll take practice to draw it reverse-grip with my right hand.

Back into the store, enduring the stench, I headed deeper.

…I think it was around here last time…

Found it! Goal number two, the big prize!

A portable fridge and a portable ice maker.

Both electric, usable once charged.

The generator’s running full blast at home, so these’ll keep my fish fresh!

The home center was cleaned out of these, so I’d been hunting.

As usual, I picked the best-looking ones.

Alright, got some solid stuff for fishing and beyond.

My fishing life’s basically guaranteed now!

…If I actually catch anything.

Time to head home and prep my gear.

As I turned to the truck, something odd caught my eye across the street from the store.

A three-story community center with a balcony full of hanging laundry.

The first floor’s windows and entrance were all boarded up.

I was so focused on fishing gear I didn’t notice when I arrived.

A small-scale shelter, huh.

Makes sense—there’d be shelters run by folks other than the police or Jieitai.

Some people probably want to hunker down quietly with their crew.

Take it to the extreme, and you get a loner like me.

Whatever, I’m done here—time to go.

I loaded up, got in the truck, and started the engine.

As I made a U-turn in the lot, I saw someone on the shelter’s balcony.

They’re waving… or beckoning?

Hmm… do they need something?

I don’t have any business with them.

What to do.

Might as well check it out.

If it’s sketchy, I’ll bolt.

I drove across the street and parked in front of the community center.

Keeping my bokken and backpack off but the rest of my gear on, I got out.

As I walked under the balcony, a voice called down.

“Hey, hello!”

A regular-looking old guy, maybe in his 60s, peeked out.

Rocking a perfect barcode bald head.

…What’s the point of that hairstyle?

If I start balding, I’d just go full shave.

Maybe I’ll get it when I’m older?

“Hello. Is this a shelter?”

“Yeah, it is. Just a bunch of neighborhood folks gathered here, though.”

I looked up, chatting.

“So, what’s up? Looked like you were calling me.”

“Oh, yeah… how’s it out there? Any movement from the police or Jieitai?”

“Hmm, well…”

Just small talk, huh?

Good, no annoying tasks.

He kept asking questions, so I answered as they came.

Was this old guy starving for conversation?

“I see, got it. Thanks.”

“No problem, happy to help…”

Suddenly, I sensed people on both sides of the building.

No way.

Footsteps running from left and right.

Metal bats in my peripheral vision.

I jumped back without turning, putting distance between us.

Figures rushed from both sides, armed with bats and sticks.

Oh, I get it.

That’s how it is, huh?

Dammit!!

Let’s do this, you bastards!!!!

The right side’s closer.

I threw a shuriken.

It sank into the lead guy’s chest.

Will that kill him? No time to care.

I flung another at the lead guy on the left.

Bullseye in his groin.

“Guh!!”

Oof, that looks painful.

The leaders on both sides flinched, slowing the others.

I dove toward the right, drawing and slashing.

I tore through the right arm of a bat-wielding guy.

Too many to hold back!

They’re the ones attacking—blame their zombie-level stupidity.

“Shi!!”

“Guh!?”

I slammed a full-force kick into the groin of the idiot at the back, gawking like a moron.

Our school’s a dirty one, loaded with kicks and vital strikes, so it’s handy for times like this.

Swordsmanship…? Whatever.

I vaulted over the guy as he crumpled, moving deeper.

No one else—good.

I turned back.

Alright, four left!

A sudden jolt hit my head.

“Ow!?”

Shards of pottery and dirt scattered in my vision.

A flowerpot or something!?

Dropped from above!

I dove away from the wall.

My neck hurt, and my vision flickered, but I was fine.

Good thing I wore a helmet!!

I spotted a figure on the roof.

That bastard!!

“Die, you jerk!!!”

I chucked a shuriken, hoping it’d hit.

It stuck in the wall but seemed to spook him.

The figure ducked back.

That’ll do for now.

Watching for more roof projectiles, I circled forward.

I’ve gotta take them all out before I tire, or I’m done!!

First guy.

He raised his bat to block my upward slash.

I feinted a downward strike, shifted to my right, and swung horizontally.

His left elbow was sliced deep, and he screamed.

I shoulder-checked him from the left, knocking him into the guy behind, stopping their movement.

Second guy.

While he looked at his buddy, I threw a shuriken.

It hit near his collarbone.

Another throw.

It sank into his stomach.

As he dropped to his knees, clutching his gut, I front-kicked his face, knocking him out.

Third guy.

He swung a long iron pipe downward.

Too close to dodge, so I stepped in, taking it on my left shoulder.

It was a weak swing, so the damage was light, but it still hurt.

I drew a shuriken, gripped it reverse, and stabbed it deep into his left thigh, twisting to worsen the wound.

One shuriken left.

Last guy!

A stick came at my face.

I barely dodged, but a sharp pain like heat grazed my left cheek.

Ow! He tied a knife to the end or something!!

He swung so hard he left his back wide open.

No way I’m letting him hit me again—I slashed upward from a low stance, cutting his right side.

Blood sprayed from a deep gash in his shirt.

Must’ve hit a big vessel.

I slashed his thigh as he screamed, kicking him to the ground.

…That’s the last of them?

No more coming?

I panted heavily.

I was right on the edge of exhaustion.

My battered left shoulder and slashed cheek throbbed with my heartbeat.

The cheek wound felt deep.

Warm blood dripped steadily.

Damn, that hurts.

It’ll probably scar.

Good thing I’m not a pretty girl.

“Aaaah! I’m gonna die!!”

“Help… help!!”

“Gah, I’ll kill you, bastard!!”

Catching my breath, I kept an eye on the roof while checking the guys on the ground.

Mostly neutralized, but one’s still feisty—the shoulder-hitter.

He’s got spirit, but I wrecked his thigh, so he’s not standing anytime soon.

Might never walk right again, but that’s not my problem.

The rest are groaning, screaming, or passed out.

What a messed-up “shelter.”

Reminds me of that convenience store.

They seemed pretty practiced—probably pulled this before.

Humans are getting harder to trust.

Goddamn it, I’m such an idiot! Too careless!!

From now on, everyone I meet outside is an enemy.

I saw a figure on the roof, so I grabbed a fallen bat and hurled it.

This time, it hit something—screams and a thud followed.

Time to get outta here.

As I started walking, I saw the barcode bald guy from earlier step out from behind a wall.

He must’ve been expecting a win, smirking with that greasy face.

But when he saw his guys down and me standing, his face paled, and he tried to bolt.

No way you’re escaping.

I threw my last shuriken with all I had, and it sank deep into his left shoulder as he turned.

“Gya!?!?”

I sprinted and flying-kicked his back.

He faceplanted into the asphalt, letting out a weird scream as he writhed.

I checked my sword, glancing at the squirming bald guy.

No blocks, so no nicks or bends, but it’s caked in blood from all the slashing.

I shook off the blood, wiped the blade on my sleeve for a quick fix, and sheathed it.

No damage—good.

“Hey, you guys really went all out.”

“Eek!? W-Wait, just wait…”

The bald guy was crawling, trying to get up.

“Ora!!!”

Perfect kicking position—I booted his groin like a soccer ball.

He collapsed again, letting out a voiceless scream.

“Killing you all’s too much hassle… so I’ll let you off with this.”

Some might die anyway.

…This fake shelter’s better off wiped out.

“No next time. If I see you again, I’ll cut off your limbs and use ‘em as fish bait…”

I’ve got no interest in that hassle or seeing them again, but I threw in the threat.

No way I’d eat fish caught with bait like that.

I walked past the writhing bald guy, got in the truck, and started the engine.

As I pulled onto the road, I glanced in the rearview mirror.

About ten zombies were shambling out from the residential area behind the center.

With all that screaming, of course they’d notice.

That was close.

Looks like that place’ll be done for sooner than I thought.

With zombie roars and human screams as my BGM, I drove off.

Go to hell, you scum.