Jobless Man’s Zombie Survival Life - Chapter 51: About Modern Kids?

Chapter 51: About Modern Kids?

I’m wandering the town aimlessly.

All I hear around me are the usual zombie groans.

The air’s thick with the stench of death.

…Okay, that’s a bit too dramatic.

I’m just poking around, looking for something useful.

I’m in the western edge of the South District.

Never been to this block before.

There’s a small supermarket here, so I came to scavenge.

I reach the target store, but it’s trashed.

The front glass is shattered, shelves are toppled inside, and there’s a huge bloodstain.

…Slim pickings, huh?

I rummage around, watching for zombies.

Canned goods are gone.

Figures—they’re easy to grab.

Dry noodles are still here.

I’ve got mentsuyu and sauce at home, so I’ll take these.

With well water, zaru udon will taste great.

From the dried goods aisle, I grab kiri-boshi daikon, dried shiitake, and aburaage.

…Having well water is basically a cheat code.

Some canned juices are left.

…100% tomato juice and unsweetened veggie juice, huh?

Left behind because they’re not tasty?

Vitamins are precious now, so I’ll take these health-conscious ones I’d usually skip.

Pricey, though.

Oh, what’s this… sports drink powder!

Protein powder too!

Lightweight, perfect—taking it all.

Great for calorie boosts!

There’s cereal, the kind you’d pour milk on for breakfast.

…No milk, though.

Could I eat it like a snack?

Hmm, I’ll take it.

Long shelf life, anyway.

Can’t forget chocolate.

An apology for flashing the girls last time.

…Wait, they groped me like crazy after, so maybe we’re even…?

Guess that’s about it.

I avoid the stinking fresh food section and think.

Vacuum-packed, easy-to-eat stuff is wiped out.

This’ll do for today.

I’m planning zaru udon for dinner when I hear something.

I duck behind a register.

“~! …!”

There it is again.

Getting closer.

“…and, …so!”

Pretty loud.

A young guy’s voice… maybe?

Can’t tell how many.

Lately—well, always—people I meet outside are trouble.

What kind this time…?

I’ll adjust based on that.

Normal guy? Talk and gather info.

Sketchy? Sneak away.

Attacks me? They’re getting a one-way ticket to nirvana.

That’s the plan.

They’re at the parking lot now.

I can almost make it out…

“Alright, let’s hit it from here!”

I peek from the shadows.

A guy’s there, holding a bat, wearing a helmet.

He’s got plastic protectors on key spots.

…That’s a baseball catcher’s gear, right?

Solid protection, I guess.

He’s wearing a baseball uniform underneath.

One high-combat-power baseball player.

His helmet’s got something taped on, like mine.

Not a light… a video camera?

What’s he doing?

“Hello, hello, net folks! It’s your boy, Akiyama TV’s Akiyama Kengo!!”

What is he doing…?

“So, today, we’re at the famous nationwide supermarket, Ogamart! The time is…”

A trendy streamer?

…Wait, the internet’s back!?

I check daily, and it’s been down forever!

“But man, yesterday’s zombies were a hassle! Today, I’m gonna find something good! Yeaaah!”

Your voice is too loud, dude.

Zombies nearby will swarm, you know.

Guess I’ll talk to him.

Seems alone, armed only with a bat.

I’ll keep my distance.

Rod shuriken ready, just in case.

I step out from the register, heading outside.

“Hey, you there~?”

“Eek!? F-First villager spotted! Spotted!! Scary! He’s got a sword!!”

Who’s a villager?

Your reactions are over-the-top.

“Just wanna talk. …I’ll keep some distance, cool?”

“A gentleman! A samurai gentleman, folks! Go ahead, big bro!!”

…I wanna go home.

He’s exhausting in the opposite way from thugs…

“So, uh, you’re streaming or something? Is the internet back?”

“Oh! Good question… Hold on a sec!”

He switches off the helmet camera and turns to me.

“Sorry… for being loud…”

“Whoa.”

He’s suddenly quiet—creepy.

“I checked, no zombies around… You’re safe…”

“O-Okay…”

This personality flip is wild.

He sits on a bench in front of the store.

I sit on the one opposite, rod shuriken in my left hand.

“I’m Ooki.”

“Polite, huh… I’m Yamada. …Not Akiyama?”

“That’s my handle.”

Not sure if I can trust him, so I use a fake name.

“The internet… still down. This is recorded, not live.”

“Got it… But why do this?”

No internet, huh…

Why’s he doing this, then?

I ask.

“Stockpiling footage.”

“Stockpiling…?”

What’s he saving it for?

Ooki leans forward, suddenly animated.

“I’m recording my survival life until the world gets back to normal!”

He’s pumped again.

“Nice… So, when this mess is over, what’s the plan?”

“Upload it online and become a mega-popular streamer! I’m editing now, ready to post anytime!”

“I… see?”

“Day-by-day clips, a real zombie survival POV! It’s gonna be huge!”

“Yeah, maybe…?”

“Honestly, this chaos won’t last 10 or 20 years… Humans are scarier than zombies…”

Hmm, I don’t totally get it, but as long as he’s not hurting anyone, it’s fine?

At first, he seemed like an idiot, but talking shows he’s not.

He plays dumb for the camera to get views.

…Wait, is Ooki the first survivor I’ve talked to outside?

No, there were the fishing guys and Ishikawa-san…

Still, rare.

Feels refreshing.

Usually, it’s just attackers or bandits.

“Sounds tough, but good luck. Nice talking.”

“Same… You’re the first survivor who didn’t attack me.”

You too, huh?

It’s rough out here.

“By the way, Ooki-kun, you at a shelter? I’m at my house.”

“I sealed off my part-time job’s used bookstore to live in. Shelters are a hassle… Solo’s easier.”

“Same here…”

“Editing videos at a shelter? No way. They’d make me work…”

A kindred spirit!

Guys like us might just survive long.

We chat a bit more and part ways.

I share tips from my experience.

He wasn’t interested in shelters, so I didn’t mention them.

“Filming others means blurring them later—too much work,” he said.

…Zombies don’t need blurring?

His info was about “spots crawling with zombies, great for footage.”

…Useful.

I’ll avoid those.

“With advice from Samurai-man, it’s time to storm the supermarket! Let’s go!!”

His sales-pitch voice echoes as he resumes filming.

Nice guy.

A rare lone-wolf survivor like me—hope he makes it.

…Hold up, Samurai-man? That’s me!?

Questioning his naming sense, I leave the supermarket lot.

※

Back home, maybe influenced by the day, I watch a first-person zombie movie.

…So dizzy! Super dizzy!

Right, my inner ear’s trash, so I avoided these films.

Can’t process the content…

I switch gears and take a bath.

That throw-in heater from the home center is a godsend.

Takes about two hours to heat a tub, but in this world, I can’t complain.

The satisfaction of a hot bath… unmatched!

Shelters only allow baths every two or three days, with strict time limits.

Home’s the best!!

Fresh from the bath, I watch another zombie movie.

A masterpiece by the genre-defining legend.

The origin and peak—love it!

The rice country’s wild with gun shops in home centers.

Glad I’m Japanese!

My life’s basically a zombie movie now.

No guns, no survivor group, no hot girlfriend, no family to protect.

Am I in a Z-grade zombie flick…?

Whatever, every day’s fun.

A cinematic life or a terminator robot would kill me fast.

Explosions, crazy old ladies causing drama, groups imploding… no thanks.

Movies are fun because they’re movies.

Grateful for my mundane life, I light a cigarette.