The Apocalypse's Safe Zone Minimarket

Chapter 5: The Alleyway Threat

"Arman... please tell me you're not actually planning to go out there," Mr. Bambang whimpered, his fingers clutching the edge of the checkout counter so hard his knuckles turned white.

"I don't really have a choice, Mr. Bambang," Arman said, his eyes scanning the dark corners of the storage area. "System, tell me exactly where that thing is. Is it right behind the back door?"

"The target is currently positioned three meters from the rear exit, directly adjacent to the Solar-Cosmic Generator," the system’s smooth, mechanical voice responded inside his head. "It has begun gnawing on the primary rubber-encased power cables."

"Gnawing on the cables?" Arman groaned, rubbing his temples in frustration. "Why would a mutated monster want to chew on electrical wires? Does it eat electricity now?"

"The Stage 2 canine is drawn to the high-frequency electromagnetic vibrations emitted by the generator," the system explained calmly. "If the primary cables are completely severed, the generator will suffer a catastrophic short circuit. The Safe Zone's power will be terminated, and the Golden Sanctuary Shield will collapse."

"See? I told you!" Arman yelled, turning to Mr. Bambang. "If that thing bites through those wires, we are sitting ducks. The shield goes down, the lights go out, and every monster in Jakarta can just walk right through the front door."

"But look at you!" Mr. Bambang gestured wildly at Arman's shaking hands. "You’re trembling, son! And all you have is that metal stick! What if it bites your arm off before you can even swing?"

"He's right," Arman muttered to himself, looking down at the heavy steel crowbar. "The reach on this thing is too short. If I get close enough to hit it, I'm already in its biting range. System, do you have a sword in your store? Or a shotgun? Literally anything longer than a crowbar?"

"Weaponry is currently locked behind the Stage 1 Savior Level," the system replied. "Your current level is 0. You do not possess the required clearance or points to purchase physical weapons."

"Of course not," Arman sighed, rolling his eyes. "Why would anything in my life be easy? Okay, think, Arman. Retail survival skills, activate."

He marched into the employee breakroom, his flashlight beam cutting through the golden-lit dust motes.

"What are you looking for?" Mr. Bambang asked, shuffling nervously right behind him. "Are we looking for a fire extinguisher? We can spray it in its eyes!"

"No, I need something with length," Arman said, kicking open the janitor's closet. He grabbed the heavy-duty wooden mop. "Perfect. This will do."

He stepped on the mop head and gave the handle a hard, desperate yank. Snap. The thick wooden pole broke cleanly, leaving him with a sturdy, five-foot-long wooden staff.

"Okay, that's step one," Arman muttered, sweat dripping down his temple. "Now, where is the box cutter I use for opening inventory boxes?"

"In the drawer under the cash register!" Mr. Bambang offered quickly, trying to make himself useful. "I saw you put it there yesterday when you were restocking the instant noodles!"

"Right!" Arman sprinted back to the counter, pulled open the drawer, and grabbed the heavy-duty metal utility knife. He slid the fresh, razor-sharp blade out, locking it securely into place. "And I need duct tape. Aisle 4, bottom shelf. Hurry, Mr. Bambang!"

"I'll get it! I'll get it!" Mr. Bambang scrambled down the aisle, returning a second later with a thick roll of silver tape. "Here! Tape it tight, Arman! Don't let it slip!"

"Thanks," Arman said. He aligned the metal casing of the box cutter with the end of the wooden handle. He began wrapping the tape around them, pulling it taut with his teeth. Rrrrriiiip. "We used to secure twenty-kilo boxes with this tape. If it can hold those, it can hold a little plastic knife."

He held up his creation, waving it slightly in the air. It was a crude, five-foot-long spear with a small, terrifyingly sharp utility blade protruding from the tip.

"Well," Arman chuckled weakly, testing the weight. "I look like a budget caveman. A prehistoric convenience store clerk."

"It looks incredibly dangerous," Mr. Bambang whispered, staring at the makeshift spear with wide eyes. "But will it actually stop a monster?"

"It doesn't have to kill it instantly," Arman said, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm in his chest. "I just need to keep it at a distance and drive it away from the generator. The narrow alleyway outside should actually work in my favor. It can't flank me if there's no room to move."

"Just don't die, son," Mr. Bambang said, his voice cracking with emotion. "If you die, I'm just a useless old man waiting to be eaten."

"I don't plan on dying today, Mr. Bambang," Arman said, trying to sound a lot more confident than he actually felt. "Just stay inside, keep the lights on, and lock this inner door behind me. If you hear me scream, don't open it."

"Are you ready, Host Arman?" the system asked.

"No, but let's do it anyway," Arman breathed, stepping up to the heavy metal back exit. "System, open a temporary gap in the shield just for this door."

"Bypass authorized," the system said. "Localized barrier deactivated. Good luck, Savior."

Arman took a deep, shaky breath, unlocked the deadbolt, and pushed the heavy metal door open.

The cool, damp night air rushed in, smelling heavily of copper, burnt rubber, and the thick, choking ozone of the crimson fog. The alleyway was dark, illuminated only by the flickering golden aura of the generator buzzing loudly against the brick wall.

"Okay," Arman whispered to himself, stepping out into the shadows. "Just a quick cleanup. No big deal. Just like cleaning up a spilled slushy."

He pulled the metal door shut behind him, hearing the lock click. He was officially outside the sanctuary.

"System, where is it?" Arman whispered, pressing his back against the cold brick wall.

"Directly ahead, behind the trash bins," the system replied in his mind. "Distance: four meters."

Arman crept forward, his sneakers splashing quietly in the shallow puddles of dirty rainwater. The loud, rhythmic thrum-thrum-thrum of the Solar-Cosmic Generator filled his ears, nearly drowning out his own frantic breathing.

Then, he heard it.

Screeech. Rip.

The wet, tearing sound of teeth scraping against thick, high-voltage rubber.

Arman peeked around the corner of the rusty metal dumpster, holding his breath.

There it was.

The creature was massive, easily the size of a small pony. Its body was a horrific, distorted version of a stray dog, its fur completely gone, replaced by raw, pulsing red muscle tissue that seemed to glow faintly under the crimson sky. Its jaws had split horizontally into four separate, fleshy mandibles, lined with rows of needle-like teeth, currently clamping down on the thick, black power conduit leading from the generator.

"Hey!" Arman shouted, his voice cracking slightly before he found his strength. "Get the hell away from those wires, you overgrown mutt!"

The chewing stopped instantly.

The massive beast froze, its split jaws slowly releasing the sparking wire. It slowly, deliberately turned its head toward Arman.

Its eyes were entirely pitch black, reflecting the cold, dim golden light of the generator. A thick, dark drool dripped from its mandibles, sizzling slightly as it hit the wet pavement.

"Oh, wow," Arman whispered, his grip tightening on the wooden handle until his knuckles turned white. "You are definitely much bigger than the dogs from earlier. Did you eat a whole butcher shop or what?"

The creature let out a low, vibrating growl that rattled the metal dumpster beside Arman. Its massive shoulder muscles tensed, its front claws digging into the asphalt, preparing to spring.

"Come on then, you ugly bastard," Arman hissed, bracing his back foot against the brick wall, pointing the sharp utility tip of his spear directly at the beast's throat. "I've got the reach advantage, and I'm not planning on being your midnight snack!"

The mutated dog let out a deafening, split-jawed roar and lunged forward.

"Shit! Get back!" Arman screamed.

The beast's massive form blurred in the dark, its jaws snapping shut mere inches from Arman's face.