The view from the Humvee window was breathtaking. Mountains and rivers stretched across the landscape, slowly reclaiming the abandoned towns and roads. Nature was steadily consuming everything humanity had built. The passage of time felt both terrifying and strangely comforting.
But the beauty of the scenery was ruined by the undead. It had become difficult for me to imagine a world where they weren't roaming everywhere.
"Skrrt!"
The vehicle stopped without warning. I steadied myself and looked toward the road ahead.
Andrea grabbed the gun that had fallen from her hand.
"Why are we stopping?"
"There's a roadblock up ahead," Chicken said calmly. "Two trucks… Looks deliberate."
As soon as he finished speaking, a group of men stepped out from behind the trucks, aiming their guns and crossbows at the Humvee.
"Listen up! Whoever's inside, come out with your hands up! We're claiming this vehicle. Resist and you die. Come out quietly!" one of the men shouted from behind cover.
I couldn't help but smile as I looked at them.
I knew exactly who they were.
They called themselves the Claimers.
But I never expected them to be this stupid. Couldn't they see that bullets and crossbow bolts would do nothing to a Humvee like this? Had they spent so long stealing from ordinary people that greed had completely replaced their common sense?
"Chicken, go ahead and handle them."
"Roger that, Lord," he said with a grin.
Without hesitation, the five Blood Angels moved into action. One climbed onto the mounted machine gun, covering the other four as they prepared to exit the vehicle.
The moment he fired a few rounds toward the Claimers, they scrambled back behind the trucks for cover while the rest of the team advanced.
Ignoring the gunfire outside, I looked at the priest sitting across from me. He was writing quietly, a faint smile on his face.
Andrea leaned closer, trying to peek at his notebook. Curiosity was written all over her face, but the priest carefully kept the pages out of her view.
"What are you writing?" I asked.
Andrea smiled immediately, knowing her curiosity was about to be satisfied.
"My Lord," Basil said gently as he continued writing, "I am recording your deeds. The believers deserve to know the truth about the one who guides them."
"Why waste time on that? Write about yourself, old man," I said.
He simply smiled.
"My Lord, your influence is greater than you realize. The faithful hunger for knowledge about you. The first book vanished from the shelves within days, and it isn't a waste of time… most of our funding comes from selling these books. They also help us recruit new believers."
I knew I was popular in the community, but not that popular.
Andrea was still trying to sneak a look at his notebook. Basil finally closed it and looked at her.
"When I finish the book, I'll give you a free copy. Until then, please don't peek."
Andrea nodded quietly, though her eyes remained fixed on the notebook.
Ignoring her, I looked back at Basil and spoke in a serious tone.
"Basil, I'm glad you're bringing unity to the community. But tell your brother Larry not to kill too many people."
His eyes widened for a moment before he nodded.
Andrea looked at both of us in confusion.
Basil, his brother Larry, and their followers had been brainwashing people—especially children—into becoming believers. Anyone who opposed them was eliminated. Those who resisted simply disappeared without leaving any evidence behind.
I wasn't completely against it if it brought stability to the community.
But in the last few months, they had been killing more people than I liked.
Judging by Basil's expression, he understood.
Still, I was satisfied with his results. More than eighty percent of the community were believers now. Morale was high, and Basil had performed countless acts of charity for the community. His loyalty to the Blood Angel community was clear for everyone to see.
But even good things needed limits.
If anything grew too excessive, it could easily become a disaster.
"Lord, the situation is neutralized. What should we do about the leader?" Chicken's voice called from outside.
I stepped out of the vehicle and looked at the kneeling figure on the ground. His hands were on his head while two Blood Angels pointed their rifles at him. The other two were killing the nearby undead that had begun approaching.
"Joe," I said calmly as I bent down slightly. "Answer my question truthfully. Do you understand?"
"How the fuck did you know my name?" he asked, his face full of shock.
Before he could say anything else, a Blood Angel struck him with the butt of his rifle. Joe's head slammed into the ground, and blood spilled from his mouth.
"Lord asked you a question. Do you understand?" the Blood Angel demanded.
I glanced at him.
"Jerry, he's unconscious. Wake him up first."
He smiled awkwardly. "Sorry about that, Lord."
Chicken looked at his younger brother Jerry with clear disappointment.
"Think before you act, pig. Control your anger. After this mission, you'll have extra training with me."
He lowered his head in silence, unable to face his brother's disappointment.
Joe slowly regained consciousness. Jerry grabbed him by the collar and yanked him upright.
"You heard the Lord," he growled. "Answer the damn question. Do you understand?"
Joe looked confused and terrified.
"…I understand," he muttered weakly.
I smiled faintly.
"Do you know a man named Rick Grimes or Daryl Dixon?"
"I… I don't know any of them," he replied hesitantly.
I glanced at Jerry and gave a slight nod.
Without hesitation, Jerry stepped forward and cut Joe's head off.
If he didn't know anything about Rick Grimes, he was useless.
My eyes shifted toward the truck.
"Both of you…come out from behind the truck."
Two figures froze. They had been quietly stealing supplies and trying to slip away, but my senses had already noticed them.
Jerry slammed the side of the Humvee with his rifle.
"Enough hiding!" he barked. "Get your asses out here before I start shooting through the metal!"
A woman slowly stepped out, holding the hand of a girl about eight or ten years old. Fear and nervousness were written across their faces.
"Please don't shoot," the woman begged. "I'll put the items back. Just let me and my daughter go."
I looked closely at her and immediately recognized her.
Dee.
Also known as Alpha.
The girl behind her was Lydia—her daughter.
In my previous life, I had heard about them from a friend and watched a few episodes about the Whisperers. Alpha was supposed to be cruel and abusive toward Lydia.
But the woman in front of me didn't look like that.
Dee placed the supplies on the ground. Her daughter did the same.
"Well, I'll be damned," Chicken muttered. "Either you're brave… or the stupidest scavenger I've seen this month."
He signaled for them to come closer with his rifle.
"Tell me… where were you hiding?"
"Not brave. Just desperate," Dee said quietly. "I was hiding behind those trees. Please… let us go."
She held her daughter tightly. Tears filled her eyes.
Her gaze eventually drifted toward me.
I smiled.
Something felt wrong.
According to what I knew, she was supposed to be abusive toward Lydia. But from her body language, she looked like a desperate mother trying to protect her child.
Was my knowledge from my past life wrong?
Curious, I walked closer.
The moment I reached her, she suddenly pulled out a small hidden gun and pressed it against my head while wrapping her arm tightly around my neck. The frightened expression she wore earlier vanished instantly.
"Throw down all your weapons and let us leave peacefully," she said coldly. "Otherwise this boy dies."
The priest and Andrea stepped out of the Humvee. When they saw me being held hostage, neither of them panicked.
Instead, they smiled.
So did everyone else.
Dee frowned in confusion.
"Tell your men to put their weapons down! Or this boy will die!" she shouted. The command in her voice remained strong, but uncertainty had begun creeping into it.
Lydia clung tightly to her mother's coat, her small fingers trembling.
"I'm not the leader," Chicken said with a grin. "Don't ask me, woman."
"Then who is your leader?" Dee demanded, scanning the group.
Her eyes stopped on the priest.
"You. Tell them."
The priest immediately raised both hands, looking horrified.
"Please, lady. Don't assume such a terrible thing. I would never place myself above my Lord. I am nothing compared to him."
"Then who is your leader?!" she snapped, frustration breaking through her calm.
"It happens to be me," I said calmly, raising my hand.
For a split second, confusion flickered across her face.
That moment was all I needed.
I slammed my head backward.
Crack.
Her nose broke instantly.
She cried out in pain, stumbling back as blood poured down her face.
"Mom!" Lydia screamed.
While Dee was disoriented, I twisted free, grabbed the small gun from her hand, and tossed it aside.
Lydia rushed forward, grabbing her mother's arm as tears streamed down her cheeks.
"M-Mom… Mom, are you okay?"
Dee said nothing. She only held her daughter tightly, trying to steady herself while blood dripped onto the road.
I watched them silently. I had let her take me hostage to find out if she was really the same person I had heard about.
But now, I wasn't so sure anymore.
Even now, she instinctively moved Lydia behind her body.
Shielding her.
Was my past knowledge useless?
Or had she simply not become that monster yet?
Wanting to be sure, I turned to Jerry.
"Kill them both."
"Yes, my Lord," he replied.
Wiping the blood from his knife, he began walking toward the mother and daughter.