132 I Like You

“…….”

The sky over Seoul hung above me, blank and distant. I looked around at the wreckage and put a cigarette between my lips.

“Ah, shit.”

But when I rummaged through my pocket for a lighter, I found that it was broken.

I shouldn't have used one of those 500-won convenience-store lighters.

As I clicked my tongue and looked around, I spotted a zombie—no, a corpse—in office-worker clothes and discreetly searched its pockets.

“Oh, there it is.”

It was even a black Zippo.

It must have been made sturdy enough to survive until now.

Hiss! Hisss...