Chapter 4 Part 2

“…Alternatively, Yoo Min-ho himself might be this world’s glitch.”

“Meaning?”

“Between reality and ideal, gaps exist.”

“…Explain clearly.”

“Simple. Yoo Min-ho is reality; Cha Min-jae is your ideal. Why project Yoo Min-ho to create Cha Min-jae? You wanted Yoo Min-ho loved by all like Cha Min-jae—living that perfect, dazzling life.”

“……”

“But clear gaps exist between the real Yoo Min-ho and your Cha Min-jae creation. Though Yoo Min-ho lacks much, he’s not as crazy as Cha Min-jae. Those subtle differences caused system crashes. Since bringing you here, those gaps widened until he remembered your name.”

“…What nonsense…”

“Sometimes unexplainable feelings move people. Look at Yoo Min-ho now. No memories yet obsessed with you.”

After saying this, Hyeon-ho left, telling me to treat Yoo Min-ho better next cycle. I felt overwhelmed. Learning the truth only added emotional weight without solutions. Slumping weakly at the table, I sensed someone sitting opposite—Yoo Min-ho.

“What secret talks were those? Didn’t you just meet today?”

“……”

“If you’re my stalker, shouldn’t you focus more on me? You’ve been weirdly avoiding me.”

Instead of answering, I studied him. Under thick, masculine brows, pretty eyes resentfully stared back. I’d long felt something was off. Now I understood Hyeon-ho’s ‘system crash’ meaning. As I pensively gazed, Yoo Min-ho complained about my staring.

“What, why gawk at me like that?”

“…No reason.”

“No reason? Staring so intensely must mean something.”

“…Not intensely.”

“No, you… stared like you had something to say. Don’t tell me you expect something for saving me?”

The atmosphere grew awkward. Surely he wouldn’t… but right on cue:

“Ah fuck, fine. You saved my life… I’ll grant one wish.”

“……”

Seeing his cheeks redden after saying this himself made me feel strange too. What exactly had I loved about him? His looks were undeniable, but everything else remained mysterious. 

Hesitating over how to respond, I finally said lightly, “Okay, let’s do it.”

“…What?”

“Sex. But after we survive this. Then…”

My careless words irrevocably ruined the mood. Rather than arguing again over whether I was Lee Chae-eun, I’d promised an uncertain future—knowing it was impossible until eliminating the zombies. 

Yoo Min-ho reacted violently, “Wha—crazy! One wish and you jump to sex? And I’m not gay!”

“Yeah, right… Should I retract?”

“No! I’m not some irresponsible bastard who goes back on his word!”

“……”

What now? Checking the time—8:52 PM. I heaved myself up. Even with low odds, not trying guaranteed failure.

This time, I skipped lengthy explanations and raided the toolbox first. Pocketing the pipe wrench, duct tape, safety goggles, and a stray golf ball, I slung plastic ties over my shoulder. Following Yoo Min-ho’s earlier advice, I started wrapping my arms with duct tape. The loud ripping noise drew attention—Yoo Min-ho reacted first, always hyper-aware of me.

“What now? Trying to leave?”

“Yeah, not for bathroom breaks.”

“…Disgusting.”

The tense room couldn’t comprehend my departure. Thus began another round of tedious persuasion. And again, Yoo Min-ho followed.

Instead of arguing pointlessly, I chose to wrap his arms with the remaining tape. Arguing seemed futile against his stubbornness. This time, I even took a stray scarf and wound it tightly around his neck. No more dying from neck scratches.

The convenience store trip went surprisingly smoothly. I threw the golf ball down the hall instead of using a cutter knife, crouched low past the real estate office, and used plastic ties to bind two zombies to the ice cream freezer.

Yoo Min-ho and I worked seamlessly—so smoothly it felt surreal. Why was the café zombie so problematic? Lack of plastic ties? Missing Yoo Min-ho? Likely both. But knowing didn’t help—neither was obtainable within two minutes.

Our smooth plan shattered when firefighters arrived to cut the shutters. Zombies at the main entrance swarmed toward the convenience store glass at the grinder’s noise. As glass shattered and zombies poured in, another reset.

Next cycle, we moved faster—reaching the convenience store before 9 PM. With twenty minutes until firefighters arrived, we covered the glass walls with taped black plastic bags to block visibility.

Would this work? How to escape after sending the firefighters away? My mind overflowed. Hundreds remained in the building. If we could just survive, surely the government would shoot zombies or develop vaccines. Wanting to stay hopeful, I kept sinking into unease. Suddenly, something appeared before me.

…A cola.

“Drink. I paid at self-checkout.”

“……”

Having only seen supermarket looters in zombie films, someone paying by card shocked me. Maybe Yoo Min-ho was unexpectedly decent. Taking the cola absently, he even popped the tab for me. The fizzy sound and refreshing scent hit my nose.

Hypnotized, I gulped it down. The carbonation burned my throat with cool relief. Only then did I realize how deprived I’d been—not even considering food until now. This single sip cleared my cluttered mind.

“Eat this too. My treat?”

Next, he offered a chocolate bar. I hastily unwrapped and bit in. The sweet chocolate dulled my frayed nerves. This simple snack brought momentary peace. Watching me eat, Yoo Min-ho suddenly snatched the half-eaten bar.

“Enjoying it? Couldn’t even offer me a bite?”

He stuffed it into his mouth. Ah… I groaned involuntarily. Jumping up, I grabbed another bar—only for Yoo Min-ho to lightning-steal it again.

“Hey! In this world, theft gets caught on security cameras! …I’ve got cards, give it.”

…Unbelievable. Well, Yoo Min-ho was a public figure… Movie star Cha Min-jae caught stealing chocolate bars would make pathetic headlines. I tried understanding through his celebrity status—though the image of zombies gutted in ice cream freezers while he card-paid hardly matched.

Staring blankly at his back while he was scanning the barcode, I sat contemplating the world beyond the shutters. In films, zombie apocalypses render previously important things meaningless—real estate, cash, cards, stocks. No more need for hard work or exam prep. And ultimately… protagonists die trapped in buildings.

Sitting dumbly watching the quiet streets felt surreal. My throwaway ‘world’s gone to hell’ setting suddenly intrigued me. As I melancholically pondered, something entered my mouth—the chocolate bar. Yoo Min-ho had returned from paying with a plastic bag—apparently anticipating more cravings, it contained extra chocolate, bread, and water. Seeing fluffy castella cake made me drool. My appetite returned amidst zombies. Had my stomach strengthened or just grown accustomed?

Grabbing the castella first, Yoo Min-ho sighed dramatically.

“…You starving lately? Eating so well? You seem the type to only eat French artisan bread…”

“…Guess I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

Half-heartedly responding, I tore the cake’s paper and offered half—he shook his head, indicating I should eat it all. Stuffing it in, his face scrunched up.

“Hey, slow down. Want milk too? Don’t overeat—what if you need the bathroom?”

“…They say well-fed ghosts glow beautifully. Dying gracefully.”

“Fuck, zombies stay ugly even if well-fed. Just spewing guts everywhere. Ah, but I’d stay handsome as a zombie.”

“…Crazy bastard, why describe guts while I’m eating?”

“Seeing fresh intestines ruins your appetite? Che. You’ve got strong stomachs. …White, chocolate, or strawberry milk?”

“Got banana?”

“…Banana…”

After quickly paying, he inserted a straw into the milk for me, then suddenly snatched it back to check the expiration dates. Unbelievable.

But following his gaze to the date depressed me—it was too familiar.

“Ah… good, it expires today.”

December 13, 20XX.

Though the year differed, the milk carton’s stamped numbers matched Yoo Min-ho’s death date.

…I must have truly loved this man. The film’s starting date was his death day; my awakening time matched his death hour. Now I saw Yoo Min-ho embedded everywhere in this movie. Suddenly, the castella in my mouth felt dry and scratchy.

“Hey, take off your clothes.”

“…What?”

“Take off your top.”

“……”

After silently watching me finish the banana milk, he made this abrupt demand. Puzzled, I stared until his face reddened and he angrily snapped, “Not like that! With cameras here, you think I’d—”

“Would what? What are you imagining?”

“…Whatever. Just take it off.”

As he tried pulling my ivory knit over my head, my duct-taped arms prevented it from removal. Letting him struggle, I realized he was washing my cutter-knife wounds with bottled water. The sting made me grimace.

“…Crazy bastard. How could you do this to yourself? Could’ve just nicely suggested the management office.”

“Would anyone believe a stalker? Time was short, and my credibility was zero. This was my best option.”

“…You’re risking yourself with tetanus. Tsk, there’s no liquor in unmanned stores. We should disinfect it. Be careful not to get zombie virus in these.”

As he dabbed my arm with travel tissues, his unexpectedly serious expression made my chest tighten. Watching him meticulously tend to my wounds, words spilled out uncontrollably:

“…How’s your life?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re young but own buildings, rich… a top star with everything. Is it… livable?”

If he said it was good, would my guilt lessen? I didn’t even know what answer I wanted. Yoo Min-ho pulled the bloodstained knit back over my head and said, “…Dunno if it’s ‘good’… but I don’t want to die now. Does that count?”

“……”

“You? Do you want to live?”

“Obviously… that’s why I’m doing all this.”

“Good then. You act so fearlessly I wondered if you wanted to die.”

Just then, distant sirens sounded. No more time for sentimentality. Pushing aside complicated feelings, I stood up. Begging forgiveness or explaining truths could wait until after survival.

I wanted to live.

Without question, I’d never been more filled with desire to survive than now.

* * *