Zombies Need Love Too!

So here’s the thing…

We only had a handful of people who could actually fight.

Having them protect everyone else while also trying to move around?

Yes, well, that was basically asking for trouble on a silver platter.

Our plan was relatively straightforward: form a small elite squad, clear out the nearby zombies, then start rescuing survivors.

Yoan and Rob had already marked their last-known locations on the map in red pen. 

All we needed to do now was head in, grab the right people, and get out.

“Goodie.”

I gave Yoan a thumbs-up, fully on board with the strategy.

Luckily, I remembered exactly who we needed to find first.

The guy in question was a skilled blacksmith—practically a tank in human form. He could swing a hammer or a sword with equal ease, and he was built like he’d been carved out of iron and sheer willpower.

“Need strong guy. Big guy. Tank. And… and skill!”

“Is there someone like that?”

“If we’re talking about a fellow like that, I know just the one.”

Rob interrupted before Yoan could finish the question, puffed up like a rooster in mating season.

Judging by the smug look on his face, he was about to say something ridiculous… and boy, did he deliver.

He immediately rolled up his sleeves and flexed his biceps like we were holding auditions for a traveling circus.

“Don’t look far! Strong, big, and excellent with a sword—Rob Pitt is right here!”

“...”

Ice cold reception.

It wasn’t just me. Everyone present collectively decided to ignore his existence.

“Rob Pitt. Can you not read the room?”

“What? Why? I’m right though.”

“Cut the nonsense. Same as yesterday—we split into two teams and go recruit. We’ll prepare for a nighttime attack once that’s done. Bliss, can you hold down the fort alone?”

Yoan’s tone was brisk, but he did seem genuinely worried about leaving Bliss behind.

“Of course! I’ve been managing just fine on my own, haven’t I? Don’t worry about me.”

Bliss lifted her iron frying pan with a determined sparkle in her eyes.

Yoan gave her a faint smile, then stood. “Good. Let’s move quickly.”

“Mhm.”

I followed him with grim determination.

But I couldn’t help feeling a little nervous.

I remembered who we needed, sure, but not the details of how they were recruited in the original story.

Well... we’ll figure it out somehow.

After Aria—my shining beacon of hope—turned into a zombie and invited me to join her world domination plan, nothing really surprised me anymore.

***

As if mocking my “nothing could surprise me anymore” attitude, fate lobbed another curveball straight at my forehead.

“Not here?”

“What, this young lass got cotton in her ears? And why are you talkin’ to me like that? So rude!”

The cranky old man glared at me like I’d just insulted his turnips.

But seriously… how was I supposed to react? The key player we came to recruit had vanished.

Apparently, about a week after the outbreak started, he went scavenging for food and never came back.

“Anyway, I’m the only one left. Sent the rest of my family someplace safer. I’m just waitin’ here in case my son returns. So shoo.”

“Just hang in there a bit longer, old man. We’re clearing out the area soon, and it’ll be safer.”

“Bah! Get lost.”

He waved us off with all the enthusiasm of someone swatting flies.

“You’ll just get yourselves killed for nothin’. You’re this village’s lord, ain’t you? Be more careful with yourself.”

“You know who I am, and you’re still talking to me like this?”

“You wanna debate courtesy with your attitude?”

“I was born this way.”

“I’m old. Don’t got many days left anyway. Nothin’ scares me now.”

“Haha! Damn old coot.”

Yoan let out a hearty laugh, but I couldn’t find anything funny about it.

This is bad. I didn’t think of a Plan B.

The one guy we needed was MIA.

While I stood there stewing, Yoan casually reached into his bag and handed the old man some food.

“Don’t die, old man. Hang in there.”

Huh? Wait a second.

I reached out and grabbed the old man’s wrist.

“Sasha, your meat is right here. Let’s compromise, okay? Be good?”

That wasn’t it.

I ignored Yoan completely and began poking at the old man’s arms.

“What in blazes—? What're you doin'?”

The old man sputtered, confused, but I wasn’t.

“Come with us,” I said.

“Where?”

“Join us.”

“I said I ain't goin'.”

“You have to.”

“Milord! This friend o’ yours is missin’ a few screws, ain’t she? She come down with somethin’ or what?”

To be fair, I didn’t exactly scream “zombie” when I was speaking in complete sentences, so he probably thought I was just eccentric.

But I knew what I saw.

When he reached out to grab the food from Yoan, I caught a glimpse beneath his sleeve.

Those weren’t ordinary arms—they were practically forged from granite.

His body was solid for someone his age, and something about his posture and calluses screamed “retired blacksmith.”

Even if he wasn’t the person we originally wanted, he’d still be useful. And leaving him here alone? Not happening.

“Sasha, can you explain why you’re doing this?”

You can always tell a real fighter by the body. These aren’t hobby muscles… this grandpa’s practically sculpted. Definitely a blacksmith, I reckon.
“Grrrr real… Gurrk. These aren’t grrrk-grrrk! Grandpa grrrrrr! Definitely grrrk-ahhh. Blacksmith reeehk.”

“...”

The words had come out in such a jumbled mess I barely understood myself.

Judging by their blank faces, neither did they.

Taking a huge breath, I tried again much more slowly.

“Arm muscles. Nuts. Strong. Helpful!”

“…Milord. This friend o’ yours… she ain’t what I think she is, eh…?”

“Yes. But no.”

“What kinda dogshit answer is that?”

At this point, you’d think I’d be used to people questioning what I was, but it still stung. Every time.

Thankfully, Yoan stepped in like he always did.

But the old man crossed his arms stubbornly. “I ain’t goin’. My boy might come walkin’ through that door any minute now.”

How could I argue with that? I didn’t know what it felt like to wait for family like that.

Just when I was about to back off, Yoan kept pressing.

“You know how things are right now. We need every fighter we can get. If we don’t push back, this all ends here.”

The old man listened, silent.

“I can’t promise we’ll find your son. But if he’s alive, joining us gives him a better shot at surviving. I’ll make sure of it. I’m the lord. So help me out.”

He still didn’t answer. Just stared into the distance, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Yoan didn’t pressure him, just waited.

And after a long pause…

“Hrgh… fine. Let’s get goin’. Once we clear this place out, I’ll know if my boy’s still breathin’ or not. Either way, my kin’ll be safer someplace else.”

“Good thinking. Thanks.”

“But are we really s’posed to travel with that thing?”

“If you’re talking about Sasha, she’s safer than anyone. I vouch for her.”

“Vouchin’ for a flesh-nibbler? You’re doggone crazy too, milord.”

“I do get that a lot.”

And just like that, we’d recruited Jeremy the Blacksmith Grandpa.

Incidentally, we were diverging from the original plot more and more.

This is life or death. I really need to stay focused.

I hoped the next person would be easier.

Now three of us, including Jeremy, we hustled to the next location.

Unfortunately, I only remembered who we needed, not where they were.

So we had to knock on doors like awkward traveling salesmen.

At the sixth place, we finally struck gold.

There he was—just like in the story. From his hunched posture to his twitchy expression, I recognized him instantly.

He was in the corner, fiddling with some very real-looking bombs, and looked up like a kid caught sneaking cookies.

“Who—who are you?”

I glanced down at the explosives he’d been crafting.

Oh yes, we definitely needed to bring this guy.

“Oh, these? Uh... toys! Just toys! Haha! Pretty realistic, right?”

Nice try, buddy.

“Join us,” I began.

The man blinked, visibly flustered. “You... you know me?”

“Yeah. Do you know him?” Yoan looked puzzled by my confidence.

I was absolutely certain.

His name was Kira. Big round glasses and jittery energy.

He looked clueless—but the moment bombs or traps entered the conversation, it was like flipping a switch on his personality.

Suddenly, he’d turn into a full-blown dark genius.

“Looks necessary.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“Looks smart.”

He was smart. Terrifyingly so.

And he used those smarts to craft formidable explosives and even install traps.

“I just want to hide here and mind my business.”

“More zombies.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t you want… to kill them?”

“Why would I—?”

“Come with us? You can.”

“B-but why would I want to?”

Because you’re a man of blazing passion, and—

“You’re insane.”

“...”

Oops…? That came out wrong.

I shot Yoan a silent plea for help.

He stood there smirking like this was the most entertaining thing he’d seen all week.

“Let’s not waste energy bickering. Just come with us. It’s better than hiding here alone.”

“I really don’t like being inconvenienced—”

“Then listen before I make things inconvenient.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

Overwhelmed by Yoan’s glare, Kira caved.

Perfect. With him, we had the minimum team we needed to escape the first isolation zone.

Starting with four—including me—we’d grown to seven.