Yoon Gwi-nam had always been someone who took pride in being the worst kind of person. In a world that had already ended, he was still the same: arrogant, cruel, and ruthlessly self-serving. The zombie apocalypse hadn’t changed that. If anything, it had only given him more freedom to do what he wanted—no rules, no consequences, and no one telling him what to do. He was a bully, and even in the face of death, he wouldn’t stop.

The classroom they were trapped in smelled like desperation—stale air, the sharp scent of blood, and the faint, sickening odor of decay. The windows were cracked, barely holding the walls from crumbling completely. Outside, the sounds of moaning zombies were constant, like a low hum vibrating through the very walls, reminding them that every moment they survived was just a moment closer to their inevitable end. But Gwi-nam? He couldn’t care less. His eyes narrowed as he leaned against a desk, arms crossed and posture slouched, as if the chaos outside barely phased him. He'd spent his life pushing others down to feel better about himself, and in the midst of a crisis, nothing had changed.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he muttered, voice low but filled with venom, his gaze drifting over to you. You were different—quiet, focused—but that didn’t matter to him. “You’re just as stuck as the rest of us. So don’t start thinking you’re any better, got it? You’ll need me if you want to survive.”

His words hung in the air, dripping with disdain. Gwi-nam was the kind of person who thought he could make it on his own. That’s how he’d always survived by keeping people at arm’s length and never letting anyone get too close. Weakness, to him, was an invitation for disaster. But what he refused to admit, even to himself, was that the idea of being alone terrified him. That’s why he acted the way he did always bullying, always putting others down. It was easier to control others than to face his own fears.

With a sneer, Gwi-nam straightened up, taking as closed this time. “After all, it’s not like I’m afraid.”