Shiro first picked up the notebook.
The pages had already yellowed with age, but the writing on them was still clearly visible.
[I am Charles Harold, the mayor of this town.
If someone finds this notebook later, then I am already dead.
Or rather, I am no longer myself.
It all began last month.
When the first infected appeared at the town hospital, we all thought it was only some rare mutation of rabies.
The state government told us to wait for rescue, and we trusted our government, so we stayed here and quietly waited.
But rescue never came.
The number of infected increased every day.
I activated the Town Office as an emergency shelter and gathered the townspeople who had not yet been infected here.
We had food, water, medicine, and weapons.
As long as we sealed the gate and waited for the outbreak to pass, everything would be fine.
That was what I thought at the time.
I was wrong.
A week ago, the first internal infection appeared inside the shelter.
The infected townsman turned during the night and bit three people.
Then those three changed as well.
By the time we brought the situation under control, twelve people were dead.
Twelve people had become those things.
My wife was among them.] The diary paused here.
The handwriting after that became much messier, and several round spots on the paper had been blurred by water stains.
[I ended her with my own hands.
I am the mayor.
I have the responsibility to protect the people who remain, but I could not do it.
I could not even protect my own wife.
Every night, I can hear her voice.
She calls to me, asking why I did not save her.
Someone else was infected today.
The anti-epidemic medicine has no effect.
All evacuation routes have been cut off, and radio contact has also been lost.
We have been abandoned.
Abandoned by this world.
My body is starting to feel wrong too.
The wound where an infected person bit me has begun to itch, and dark green spots are appearing on my skin.
But my consciousness is much clearer than those infected.
I do not know whether it is because the infection has not gone far enough, or because of something else.
I will not sit here and wait to die.
I had all remaining supplies locked inside the warehouse.
The key and the safe password are written on the last page of this notebook.
If I can still control myself by then, I will lock myself on the third floor.
If I cannot… I hope someone can end all of this before I completely lose my humanity.
Lastly, I am sorry.] The diary ended there.
The final line was dragged out for a long distance, as if the writer had exhausted all his strength by the time he finished writing it.
Shiro turned to the last page and indeed found the safe password: 0617.
In addition, the location of the underground emergency warehouse and the key number were also marked there.
“He did his best.” Shiro closed the notebook and fell silent for a few seconds.
“A man who tried to turn the tide when his town stood on the edge of destruction.
Even at the very end, he was still thinking about leaving supplies for those who came after him.” Marikawa Shizuka stood beside Shiro and quietly listened to the diary’s contents as he read them aloud.
She did not speak.
She simply looked silently at the overturned desk, and at the spot where the mayor’s badge had once been pinned.
After a long while, she spoke softly.
“At least, in the end, he was finally freed.” Shiro nodded and walked to the small safe.
Following the password written in the notebook, 0617, he turned the dial.
With a click, the safe opened.
Inside were three things: a revolver, three boxes of bullets placed beside it, each box containing 12 rounds for a total of 36 bullets, a metal key hanging from a tag labeled “Underground Emergency Warehouse,” and at the very bottom, a neatly folded blueprint.
When unfolded, it turned out to be a complete underground pipeline map of the town.
[Obtained: Police Revolver x1, Bullets x36] [Rarity: Common] [Description: A well-maintained revolver with moderate power and controllable recoil.
Suitable for beginners.
Uses .38 caliber bullets.] Shiro picked up the revolver.
The heavy, solid feeling in his hand immediately gave him a sense of security.
During the battle against the Zombie Mayor, if he had had this gun, he might not have been forced to take that hit head-on.
Then again, precisely because he did not have a gun, Shizuka’s talent had played a decisive role in the battle.
If he had relied on firepower from the beginning, he might never have thought of using purification power to counter the scepter.
“This was probably the final weapon the mayor prepared for himself.” Shiro looked at the revolver in his hand, then at the last few messy lines in the notebook.
“But he didn’t use this gun to end his own life.” Shizuka stood beside him, looking at the gun with a complicated expression.
“He chose to lock himself on the third floor and became a monster like that.” “But his diary and key were both preserved intact.” Shiro stored the gun and bullets away, then carefully folded the underground pipeline map and placed it in his warehouse.
“If he hadn’t left these behind, even if we conquered the third floor today, we wouldn’t have found the underground warehouse.
While he still held on to the last trace of humanity, he recorded everything.” The final rays of sunset shone through the window and fell onto the yellowed notebook, dyeing the pages a warm orange-red.
Shiro also stored the notebook in his system warehouse.
After returning to the RV, he planned to carefully study the underground pipeline map and plan their next exploration route.
He also put away the key to the underground emergency warehouse.
That place was the true legacy the mayor had left for the survivors.
“Let’s go.
It’s time to head back.
Today’s harvest is already very generous,” Shiro said.
Shizuka nodded, but when she reached the stairwell, she looked back at the office with the overturned desk.
“What is it?” “I was thinking… who was the final ‘I’m sorry’ in the diary meant for?
And did they become zombies because of this system?” Shiro did not answer.
He simply stood quietly at the stairwell and waited for her.
A few seconds later, Shizuka turned around.
That familiar gentle smile returned to her face.
“Let’s go, Shiro-kun.
We still have to keep living properly.” After picking up the supplies from the second floor, the two followed the stairs down from the Town Office.
The sun had already fully sunk beneath the horizon.
Only the final dark-red afterglow remained at the edge of the sky.
The shadows on the street stretched very, very long, as if trying to drag the entire world into night.
On the way back to the parking lot, Shiro cleared out the remaining zombies on the street along the way.
He also searched a house they had not had time to check earlier.
There was nothing especially valuable inside, but in the vegetable patch behind the house, they found several carrots stubbornly growing from the soil.
“Today really was a huge harvest!” Shizuka held a small basket of carrots freshly dug from the ground.
A bit of mud stained her face, and she smiled like a child.
Although they had just gone through a difficult battle, and although treating Shiro had nearly exhausted all her stamina, her smile was still as warm as sunlight.
Looking at her smile, Shiro’s own lips unconsciously curved upward.
He lowered his gaze and glanced beneath his clothes at the revolver newly tucked at his waist.
The cold texture of metal came through the fabric, giving him a little more peace of mind.
The two also found some clean clothes.
Along the way, they picked up a cardboard box and placed the supplies their warehouses could not hold inside it.
They followed the street and turned the final corner.
Soon, the parking lot appeared within their view.