Episode 41: Chance Encounter

Hayato surveyed the orderly garden spread before him after vaulting the wall.

Trees and shrubs were planted with uneven tips, but spaced evenly.

Gravel covered the ground, preventing weed growth.

He walked across the gravel and immediately checked the SUV parked beneath the carport.

The vehicle showed no major damage and was less worn than the current model.

He pulled the door handle. Naturally, it did not open.

"Where could the key be?"

Hayato shifted his gaze toward the main house.

A two-story Japanese-style house, slightly aged but solidly built.

Unlike typical Japanese homes, it lacked full-opening windows. Insulation was achieved through exterior walls and double-glazed windows.

The front door and windows were closed. Around the back, a fallen ladder lay, and the second-floor window was shattered.

— Searching the house is inevitable.

No food appeared to be inside. Hayato did not care about food anyway. He wanted the vehicle.

Hayato took a light run from the spot and leapt onto the first-floor roof.

From there, he moved along the roof toward the second-floor window.

He opened the unlocked window and slid his body into the house from the second floor.

Hayato entered the bedroom.

A bed and furniture were present. The bookshelf held medical texts—standard emergency medicine, initial trauma care guidelines—complex-looking volumes.

The occupant was likely a doctor or emergency nurse.

Though, given the vehicle had not been moved in years, the current state was obvious.

— Where is the key?

The key to the previous SUV had been stored inside a radio-shielded theft-prevention case, placed in the bedroom.

Searching the desk drawer, Hayato found the small case in the first compartment, with the vehicle's name engraved on the key.

"Unexpectedly quick to find."

Hayato placed the key into his spatial storage and exited the bedroom, heading down the second-floor hallway to continue the search.

He opened the next door and encountered a sudden presence. A zombie approached, wearing work clothes, moving with a slow, swaying gait.

"...Not a doctor, are you?"

Hayato quickly scanned the surroundings. A large backpack lay at the room's edge.

Imagining an intruder who had broken through the window, Hayato withdrew a spear from his spatial storage.

The spear moved in a clean arc from the left, avoiding the backpack on the floor.

The Damascus steel tip severed the zombie's head.

The resistance and rupture were like slicing into a watermelon.

The spear thrust through the zombie’s head, turning the moving corpse into a still one.

"Seemed like it was bitten before, developed symptoms here, turned into a zombie."

Hayato accepted the situation. His gaze settled on the backpack lying on the floor.

Size about twenty liters. Fully packed inside.

He cautiously opened the mouth. Canned goods filled the interior.

He took several out. Checked the expiration dates. None had passed.

"Today’s harvest is sufficient."

The goal was the vehicle. But returning empty-handed would be ungrateful to Sakurai, who had shown him the hidden spot.

Canned goods: fish and fruit. Not staple food, but humans do not eat only staples.

Hayato nodded. He stored the cans in spatial storage.

——There might still be something left inside the house.

If zombies haven’t been cleared, no one could have taken the household items.

Hayato advanced from the second floor to the first, carrying a faint hope.

Walking down the first-floor hallway, he found a cardboard box stacked with bottled water. But the water from Chukann Natural Hot Spring Hotel would be fresher.

He felt disappointment, yet collected nothing. He stopped before the door of a first-floor room and pulled the handle.

"Ugh!"

Five zombies, likely the former residents, stood beyond the door.

A middle-aged couple, and two children, a brother and sister.

The scene resembled a family gathered in the living room, but the image was grotesque.

Hayato slammed the door shut and ran to the entrance.

Behind him, the sound of banging on the living room door continued, but no intelligence remained to turn the doorknob. The door was being struck in an attempt to break through.

Hayato opened the front door from inside the house and stepped outside. He closed the door behind him and took a deep breath.

Inside the house, the banging on the living room door persisted for a while, then gradually diminished.

"Aah, startled."

It was the same kind of shock as when encountering a family member during a search.

But it was fortunate that the family member was not disturbed by Hayato taking the SUV.

It could not be driven under any circumstances. Worse, it must not be driven by a zombie.

Hayato accepted the vehicle with gratitude, moved to the front of the carport, and retrieved the SUV with the shattered front glass from the spatial storage.

"First, I should erase the data."

Hayato entered the vehicle and erased the Car Navigation System location registered by Sakurai.

It was to prevent the New Order Coalition from accessing the navigation data should they attach a Battery.

He regretted it for Sakurai, who had taken the time to register the location, but Hayato deleted all entries.

He then turned off the engine and opened the hood.

To remove the current Battery and install it on the new vehicle.

Multiple Batteries were secured, but discarding them would be wasteful.

He retrieved the Ratchet and, with practiced movements, detached the Battery.

The issue was whether the new vehicle would start.

Hayato could only manage Battery and tire replacements.

Anything beyond that was beyond him. If it did not start, he would have to search for another vehicle.

Hayato opened the hood, despite the inconvenience, removed the Battery from the new vehicle, and installed the one taken from the previous vehicle.

He closed the hood, climbed into the vehicle, and started the engine.

The vehicle started firmly.

"Yosh, yosh, yosh, yosh."

A strange vocalization escaped Hayato’s mouth.

He mocked himself, comparing it to a cicada’s call, then stepped down from the vehicle.

Today’s work would end here.

As Hayato stood still, the sound of a Motorcycle engine reached him from afar. The sound grew louder.

"New Order Coalition, perhaps."

Unfortunately, the spatial storage could not hold two vehicles at once. Hayato had only placed the new vehicle inside. He moved around the back of the house, climbed over the wall, and concealed himself.

The group of motorcycles approaching stopped just short of the house, parking on the road ahead.

Hayato held his breath. He activated the bear-level hearing, focusing on the voices he could perceive.

"This vehicle—this is the one the boss beat up!"

A young man's excited voice reached Hayato's ears.

"What kind of people?"

"Middle-aged man and a college student, plus two sisters around high school age."

"Hm."

The tone when hearing "two sisters around high school age" was different from the cold detachment of inquiry—it carried a note of excitement.

"What about their faces?"

"Both were top-tier."

"The men—what weapons did they have?"

"The middle-aged one had a bludgeon. I broke his left arm. The college student had nothing."

"Good. You're going in."

A group of about ten, riding two to a motorcycle, vaulted over a residential fence, stepped on gravel, and charged toward the front door.

They opened a door not secured by a lock and stepped inside with heavy footfalls.

A loud crash echoed as the living room door flew open.

Something standing in front of the living room door fell into the hallway.

Immediately afterward, a deep, guttural scream rose.

"Gyah—!"

The first three, charging forward with reckless energy, were overwhelmed by whatever stood before the door.

"Aaah—!"

A noble sacrifice, it seemed, from the fearless man.

But their fight had just begun.

"Aaah, damn it—!"

"Get off me—!"

The second man was down.

The third man was likely out.

—Good thing you got tangled up with those beautiful sisters.

Exactly as they themselves had said it would be.

Would they mistake the family members for Hayato and his group, given their bird-headed nature?

A car with a shattered front windshield beyond the closed gate offered a high point value.

The presence of a middle-aged man alongside siblings matched the profile with considerable accuracy.

The fact that they had been zombies for some time was a drawback, but if they believed rapid zombification had occurred due to viral mutation, the discrepancy would be resolved.

Given their bird-headed perception, misidentification was possible—perhaps fifty-fifty.

"Right, let's go back."

Hayato muttered, then rode away on a bicycle from the rear.

Behind him, the deep male cry still echoed.