15th Death - Type

'She's still staring...' Jiho thought, slightly exasperated as he sat on the couch opposite Marcel, catching Amélie's intense gaze fixed on him.

'I screamed at you and almost hurt you a few moments ago... at least act scared!' he fumed inwardly, frustrated.

"...And that's why we need to leave and escape the quarantine zone," Marcel concluded.

"...I see," Jiho muttered, narrowing his eyes, his expression briefly hidden.

'So, the area I was in got hit hard. We're right at the center of the infection. The police, army, and KDCA have quarantined a 10-kilometer radius around the main city, but it hasn't spread further. Outside the quarantine zone, people are safe. These two, from a prominent French family, can't even use their helicopter to escape. The WHO blocked any aerial extraction, fearing the infection could spread through the air. They need me to help them get out on foot to the nearest checkpoint.'

Jiho's mind raced. 'And it wasn't just a few hours... I was out for two whole days. No wonder I was starving.' His stomach clenched at the thought. 'While I was unconscious, there were government-led evacuations—lots of people died in the process. After the WHO stepped in, they shut everything down, and even these two, with all their influence, got left behind.'

A sudden chill crept up Jiho's spine as reality set in. 'Wait... even though my house is outside the quarantine zone...' His stomach twisted. 'Mom's workplace isn't.' His fist clenched instinctively. 'Mom!'

"Give me a few moments," Jiho said abruptly, standing up. "I need to think."

Marcel nodded, while Amélie blinked, her curiosity evident.

"Oh, and I'll need a phone," Jiho muttered, turning back toward them. 'I need to call her!'

Marcel and Amélie exchanged a grave look before Marcel spoke, his voice heavy.

"I'm afraid that won't do you much good," he said cautiously.

Jiho frowned. "Why not?"

"We've tried. None of our calls go through," Marcel explained, his tone darkening. "The infection is contained within the city, so it's not like the calls aren't being received. But... it doesn't add up. The KDCA or WHO wouldn't jam the signals without a strong reason."

Jiho's eyes sharpened. "Then who would?"

Marcel hesitated, glancing at Amélie, whose expression mirrored his concern. "Let's not jump to conclusions or conspiracies, young man. There could be other factors at play. Perhaps the government's running an operation within the quarantine zone—or maybe they're just trying to prevent panic. We just don't know."

Jiho's fists tightened. The thought of something—or someone—manipulating the situation sent a chill down his spine.

"With all these complications," Marcel continued, his voice lowering, "and no access to outside help, we turn to you, Monsieur Jiho. The way you handled those creatures... it was beyond anything I've seen, though crude in technique. If you assist us, we will be grateful—and reward you generously. The world outside is still functioning, after all. I imagine a bit of wealth wouldn't hurt?"

Jiho lowered his head, deep in thought.

'The chances that my mom is alive... practically zero. The outbreak happened while she was at work. I've got nothing left.'

'...I guess... money's good? Since I'll be on my own now?' He swallowed hard, pushing the ache away.

"...Fine. Let's go. I'll get you both to safety," Jiho muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

"Oh... How decisive." Marcel raised an eyebrow, and Amélie's curiosity deepened as she studied Jiho.

"Well... it's not like I've got anything better to do," he murmured, his voice slightly raspy.

He glanced down at his hand, staring at the spot where he'd been bitten.

'Keep that to yourself for now... Right, Mom?'

His chest tightened painfully. 'But you're not here anymore, are you? You're probably a zombie... or dead.'

His gaze shifted to Amélie, and he felt his eyes linger on her smooth skin, her blonde hair, those sparkling eyes. Even amid the chaos, her dress remained flawless. 'She's really pretty,' he thought absentmindedly.

'Something like that has to be worth it, right, Daniel?' Jiho pondered.

'A romantic relationship, sex with a cute girl, pushing everyone else aside. That's how you got Eunhee, right? If I just do that... I won't feel like this... right?'

His thoughts flickered to Daniel and Eunhee's embrace.

'Nah,' Jiho thought, taking a steady breath. 'I'll feel fuller than ever. It'll be worth more than anything I've ever done. That's why you did it, for sure. I'll save the two of them, and when it comes down to it, I'll only save her. Then all she'll want is me. All she can want is me. I'll have someone by my side—someone who'll believe in me, someone who won't leave. That's how it works, right?'

"I'll fight the zombies, clear a path, and get you both to safety," he added firmly as he got up and turned around, hiding his face as he abruptly walked towards the door.

'I just lied.' Jiho flinched subtly.

"Marvelous!" Marcel's expression sharpened as he immediately turned to Amélie, translating for her.

"Uhm," Marcel coughed awkwardly as Jiho went further away. "My Lady wishes to ask you something," Marcel said, his tone suddenly more serious.

Jiho froze, his back still to them.

"Ask," Jiho muttered.

"Fais-moi face, s'il te plaît," Amélie murmured softly, but her tone was firm, almost commanding.

"Face me, please," Marcel translated, the intensity not lost in his voice.

Jiho swallowed hard before turning around. He could feel it. In her voice, —it was as if she knew something was off.

"Pourquoi ? Je ne bougerai pas d'ici avant que tu me le dises," Amélie's eyes were piercing, steady.

Jiho didn't understand her words, but the weight behind them made him look away for a moment.

"Why are you willing to help us? I won't move until you tell me," Marcel echoed her question.

"..."

'Relax, Jiho,' he thought, caught off-guard by her sharp tone. 'She can't read your thoughts. No one can. No one knows how you feel, no one can see the lie on your face... or the love buried in your heart.' His lips tightened in frustration.

'...Things would be so different if they could,' he thought, Eunhee's laughter echoing in his mind, immediately followed by the memory of Daniel and Eunhee walking away, hand in hand.

'...And even if someone could see through it all,' he clenched his fists, 'the one person who could is probably dead too.' His mother's face flashed in his mind.

A surge of anger welled up from his gut, his teeth gritting uncontrollably.

"Then go die," he growled, startling both Amélie and Marcel.

Marcel, confused by Jiho's sudden shift in demeanor, couldn't quite grasp what had changed. Still, he was obliged to do his job. He turned to Amélie, ready to translate Jiho's words.

'FUCK..! Why did I do that!?'

"Wait," Jiho called, his voice trembling before he continued. "I want to save you... because..."

'Come on... Think of something...! Something that will get this snob to agree!'

"Because..." Jiho glanced away, feeling Amélie's eyes narrowing as she watched him. He scratched his head, cursing himself for not having Daniel's knack for handling people. Desperately searching for anything that sounded natural, he blurted out without thinking:

"...Because Mom would be sad." He murmured the words reluctantly, his voice trailing off.

'I've been winging it a lot lately... but that's kind of pathetic. No way that worked, right?' he thought, watching Marcel translate his words. Jiho glanced back at Amélie, only to catch a light smile spreading across her face, as if she'd already understood what he meant, even before Marcel finished.

'...She bought it.' Jiho exhaled quietly.

"Then, Jiho," Marcel began, "we must first escape this building. Once we reach the outside, we will have to think of how to get to the quarantine-zone borders,"

Jiho nodded, swallowing hard as he turned around to the door again, a twinge of discomfort gnawing at him.

'What are you feeling so guilty about?' he thought, clenching his fist silently as they made their way toward the door. 'There's no one left to frown at you, right? You can just...' His mind flashed to the image of his dog, whimpering in a bloody mess, the hammer still in Jiho's hand.

'Lay it down as much as you want...' Jiho thought bitterly, watching as Marcel and Amélie started making their way toward the elevator, trailing behind him.

'I haven't seen that damn message prompt in a while... Did it finally get the hint to leave me alone?' Jiho wondered, glancing back at Marcel and Amélie, who followed closely behind him. He gripped the metal pipe tighter, walking ahead through the dimly lit hallway.

"Hm..." Jiho muttered under his breath as he halted, spotting a small group of stragglers in the distance. He raised his hand, signaling for Marcel and Amélie to stop.

'Good.' He braced himself, tightening his grip on the pipe.

"Stay here," Jiho commanded, his voice low and rough. "They're mine." He almost growled the words, stepping forward with an air of possession. Amélie and Marcel exchanged a brief glance before silently nodding, watching as Jiho approached the group alone.

"Psst, Marcel," Amélie whispered, leaning closer to her butler.

"What if he gets bitten? Shouldn't we help him?" she asked, her concern evident.

"Lady Amélie," Marcel began, his voice steady. "You've seen how powerful those creatures are. Even a weak one could overpower me. If we step in, we'll only hinder Monsieur Jiho."

"...How is he so strong?" she murmured, her eyes locked on Jiho as he readied for the attack.

"I cannot say," Marcel replied. "But it's clear he isn't accustomed to it. He likely hasn't used this strength in a long time. Yet he hasn't hesitated to throw himself into danger, even if it meant risking his life for us... It's tragic, really. I suspect his entire life has been marked by violence. His reactions, especially when we spoke earlier, suggest a man who has seen too much."

"You think... he's like you? An agent? A soldier?" Amélie asked, her voice softer now.

Marcel glanced at her before speaking. "Oh, Lady Amélie, in this world, there are children more adept and ruthless than even I... You just need to know where to look. When he sat with us, I noticed his physique. A body like that, muscles like his—they aren't built overnight. He must have been training since childhood, maybe even earlier. I'd wager his life has been one of combat and survival. His temper reveals it all too clearly."

"You really think so?" Amélie's brows furrowed slightly as she studied Jiho, her head tilting with curiosity. "He just seems like a normal boy to me... just... hurt," she murmured, recalling Jiho's haunted expressions and his sudden bursts of anger.

Marcel gave a small sigh. "It's only natural you see him that way, Lady Amélie. But in time, you may also learn to recognize those shadows beneath the surface of people."

"Are you calling me stupid, Marcel?" Amélie pouted, her eyes narrowing at him.

"I would never, my Lady," Marcel responded with a warm smile. "Merely a touch... inexperienced." He patted her head gently, causing her to huff in frustration.

As Jiho neared the first zombie, it sluggishly turned toward him, releasing a low, guttural growl.

"Muuurrrgghhheee!!!" the creature moaned, its decaying arms flailing toward him.

But Jiho was ready.

"Hmph," he grunted, swinging the metal pipe with force. The blow collided with the zombie's chin, shattering its jaw with a sickening crack. Blood splattered across the wall, teeth flying from its mouth. The zombie stumbled, but it wasn't down yet.

'Fuck, not strong enough!' Jiho cursed internally, already bracing for the next.

Another zombie lurched forward, shoving the injured one aside as it charged at Jiho. He quickly swung again, the pipe connecting with its neck, slicing through the main artery. Blood gushed out, but the zombie barely slowed. Jiho didn't flinch. He swung again and again—sometimes hitting the same spot, sometimes missing, his blows drifting off-target.

'DAMN IT!' His thoughts raced as blood sprayed against his face. 'I'm too used to taking these bastards down in one hit, like earlier! I'm stronger than I was before, but not as strong as when I first woke up! Get it together...!' He gritted his teeth and landed another hit, this one knocking the zombie to the far wall, just as its teeth nearly latched onto his neck.

But before Jiho could catch his breath, another zombie lunged at him from the group. He swung the pipe again, but this time he missed its head. As the swing followed through, he noticed the pipe had become dented from the constant blows. The impact wasn't enough to reach its skull.

"SHIT!" Jiho yelled as the zombie tackled him to the ground, with others quickly piling on top. He held onto the metal pipe, using it to block the snapping jaws mere inches from his face.

'He's in trouble!' Marcel thought, his eyes wide. He glanced at his dislocated arm, cradled in a makeshift cloth sling. 'But I can't help him... not like this...!'

"JIHO!!" Amélie's voice rang out, panic evident.

'Fuck...!' Jiho thought, gritting his teeth as the weight of the zombies bore down on him. 'I can't push them off! There are too many! Is this it...!?'

The undead pressed closer, their collective weight crushing him, the nearest zombie's teeth gnashing just above his neck.

"Hahahaha..." Jiho heard a sinister chuckle echo in the back of his mind.

'...I'm not talking to you, you bastard.' Jiho growled internally, fighting to keep the zombie's jaws away.

"I don't even need to say anything, but you've always needed a grown-up to explain the real world to you," Daniel's voice sneered, dripping with condescension. "So, I'll do this one last time."

A vision of Daniel approached in Jiho's mind, his muscles flexing as he draped an arm around Eunhee.

"You might've gotten a bit stronger," Daniel continued, smirking, "but that was just dumb luck. You didn't earn it like I did."

Jiho clenched his teeth harder, fighting back the vision.

'I said shut your ass up!'

"You didn't honestly think that strength was yours, did you?" Daniel's mocking voice grew louder, the sneer never leaving his face.

'Shut up...!' Jiho's mind screamed, but the words felt weak, drowned out by the bitter voice in his head.

"Strength and power were always Daniel's," Eunhee's voice echoed cruelly above him, her figure stepping closer in his imagination. "Do you think anything else matters?"

Jiho's muscles trembled as his strength began to falter, the weight of the zombies pressing down harder.

"The only reason you're pretending you have any worth at all is because you're with two strangers who don't know what a wimp you truly are..." Her voice dripped with disdain.

"...A real man would've saved them by now. No, a real man would've made that girl fall for him while tossing the old man aside to die alone. That strength you've got now? Daniel would've used it much better."

'Stop...!' Jiho pushed back, his mental defenses weakening with each passing moment. His arms began to give way.

"...It's pathetic, really. And you were doing so well, being so 'open' and 'understanding' all these years. Honestly, I'm grateful. It's only thanks to your understanding that I ended up with a real man, and not... you."

Jiho's strength buckled further under the pressure of the zombies. The sharp gnashing teeth were now just inches from his throat. His breath quickened, panic settling in as his body grew weaker.

"Lady Amelie," Marcel turned to her, "Get ready to ru—"

"Hmm!!!" Amelie growled in frustration as she stomped away from Marcel's side.

"LADY AMELIE!" Marcel's desperate voice called, trying to stop her.

Amélie stomped closer, undeterred. Jiho's arms were moments from giving out entirely.

"Well," Eunhee's voice sneered one last time, her twisted smirk playing in his mind, "at least your two best friends are with you in your final moments..."

"Oh wait..." Her smile twisted into something more sinister. "They're probably busy screwing each other like rabid monkeys, without giving you a second thought—"

"MONSIEUR JIHO!!!!!" Amélie's scream pierced through the noise, snapping Jiho's mind back into reality. The visages of Eunhee and Daniel shattered into nothing.

'What—What is she doing here?! She'll get eaten!' Jiho's gaze locked onto her, standing mere inches from the group of zombies pinning him down.

She didn't hesitate.

With a determined expression, Amélie mimed something with her hands—placing both fists perpendicular to each other and mimicking a motion, as if she were breaking a pencil in half.

An idea snapped into Jiho's mind. His grip tightened around the dented metal pipe in his hands.

[BACKGROUND MUSIC: WHO DO YOU VOODO - SAM B]

'I... GET IT!' Jiho's mind snapped into focus as he grasped the metal pipe with both hands, using all his strength to snap it into two sharp, jagged blades.

With renewed determination, he plunged one half of the pipe into the head of the closest zombie. A rush of satisfaction surged through him as the creature slumped lifelessly beside him.

'FUCK... THAT FEELS GOOD!' Jiho's adrenaline flared, his strength reigniting.

'Monsieur Jiho... He snapped that metal pipe like it was nothing more than a pencil...' Marcel thought, his mouth slightly agape as he raised his gaze to Amélie.

'My Lady... To think you were so certain he could manage this... A truly remarkable insight...'

'... And trust.'

The jagged edges of his makeshift weapons cut through the horde far more efficiently, allowing him to push the remaining zombies back, gaining precious space.

He rolled to the side, using the momentum to spring back to his feet. The narrow hallway worked in his favor, limiting how many zombies could rush him at once. With a moment to breathe, Jiho steadied his heart, the pounding in his chest quickly dissolving into focus, fueled by raw adrenaline.

"You step back now. I got this," Jiho instructed, positioning himself firmly between Amélie and the oncoming horde.

'Alright... I think I've figured out what kind of fighter I am.'

The next zombie lunged at him, but this time Jiho was ready. He sidestepped swiftly, driving the sharp edge of the broken pipe into the zombie's eye socket, twisting the metal with brutal efficiency. The creature went limp instantly, and Jiho yanked the pipe free, already scanning for his next target.

'... An assassin type,' he thought, adopting a new stance, the two jagged pipe halves gripped tightly in his hands like dual daggers.

Amélie and Marcel watched in awe, their breaths held, eyes wide with a mixture of shock and relief.

'Dear heavens... Lady Amélie, that was far too reckless!' Marcel's heart pounded at her near intervention, yet as he watched Jiho swiftly gain control of the situation, a new thought crept into his mind. 'Though... perhaps that was for the best.'

He observed Jiho, now moving with slightly more efficiency, very slightly from his trained perspective. Marcel's gaze flickered to Amélie, whose eyes were locked onto Jiho, captivated by the raw energy and determination emanating from him.

'You're growing, without even realizing it, Lady Amélie,' Marcel mused, noticing how Jiho's resilience and power had sparked something in her—a glimmer of admiration.

'And, as it seems... so is he.'

Jiho dispatched another zombie with brutal precision, driving the sharp edge of his weapon into the creature's throat before forcing it upward, slicing through to its brain. Blood splattered the walls as he yanked the makeshift knife free, just in time to face the next wave of attackers.

One zombie lunged at him, arms wide, ready to grapple.

'Jesus fuck, I've seen that grapple too many times already! They're all the same!' Jiho thought as he braced himself, diving into the attack. But before the zombie could grab him, Jiho shoved it with violent force, sending it staggering backward. Seizing the moment, he rushed in and drove his weapons into the creature's skull, piercing through its ear canals.

'They always go for that same grapple—arms up, trying to trap you and bite. If you hit them hard enough to knock them off balance, they stumble and take a second or two to recover. Got it.' Jiho analyzed, his mind racing as the next zombie stepped over the body of the one he had just killed.

'Come on... do your grapple.' He thought, eyeing the creature intently.

But as the zombie raised one arm, Jiho lunged again... only to realize too late that it hadn't lifted the other.

No, this one wasn't lunging—it was swinging.

It was throwing a punch.

"WHAT!?" Jiho cried out as the zombie's hand slashed across his chest, leaving a bloody gash and tearing through his shirt.

Amélie gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in horror as her face drained of color. Her wide eyes fixated on Jiho, disbelief written on her pale features.

"N-... Non...!" Amélie whispered into her palms, her voice trembling.

"No... That young man... just got infected!" Marcel murmured in alarm, a wave of anxiety washing over him as Jiho staggered back, blood spurting against the wall.

'I had no idea they could attack like that... It's as if that hellspawn saw Monsieur Jiho as a real threat, not just prey!' Marcel thought, his heart racing.

"Shit... That thing can throw hands now!?" Jiho muttered, facing the zombie head-on, his mind spinning as he reassessed his situation.