A Sea Dragon's Scavenger Life

"Phew, now I can finally relax a bit."

My dream of owning a home had been delayed a bit, but I had somehow managed to kick out the uninvited guests and clean up the aftermath.

I had gone through the trouble of rebuilding the fire, and even though it was a tattered rag, I had managed to get some clothes. Now I could focus on decorating my new home in earnest.

"If I keep the campfire near the entrance, it'll be too obvious like last time. I'll keep it small near the air vent instead."

I placed the Waterdrop Bed at a distance that was close yet far enough from the campfire, giving it the cozy feel of a fireplace.

In a wooden basket I had picked up on my way back from handing the bandits over to the government office, I piled up ice that I had personally created and spat out. Inside, I placed canteens made from broken bamboo stalks.

I had essentially set up a makeshift refrigerator where I could pull out cold water whenever I wanted. It was actually starting to look like a proper home.

The cave finally felt lived-in, but I wasn't satisfied with just this.

"I still need a table, a fishing rod, and some kind of blade to prep food or maintain my tools."

Only the truly hard-to-find items were left now, but who knew? Maybe I'd get lucky and find something, just like that wooden basket I picked up on the way back from the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠government office.

Feeling like I was playing a survival game where you scavenge for scrap, I headed outside.

"Wow, this is gorgeous."

The sun, setting after the hottest part of the day, sparkled against the river. It was a magnificent view, contrasting beautifully with the sky that had darkened slightly before the red sunset took over.

Ordinary people would be hurrying home before it got too late, so this was a view only I could enjoy, active during the hours when no one else was around.

I didn't know exactly where I was, but I had chosen a cave with an incredibly atmospheric vibe as my nest.

The entrance faced south, so it got plenty of sunlight.

If I hung my laundry out later, it would dry in no time.

"I should look for some bamboo to use as a laundry pole too."

I muttered to myself, adding another item to my checklist, and kept my eyes glued to the ground, meticulously searching for scrap.

"Oh, this one doesn't leak."

I picked up a broken piece of bamboo to use as a canteen.

"Are these wild raspberries? I should take some back and try them."

I plucked the wild raspberries and dropped them into the bamboo tube.

As I kept wandering around, I kept finding things.

It wasn't like there were street sweepers here, and this was a world where untouched nature far outnumbered human settlements.

"Oh, a fishing rod! And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a fish trap!"

I had stumbled upon a literal goldmine. I scooped up everything I could with my remaining hands, filling them to the brim before finally returning to the cave.

Using the flickering campfire as my light source, I took a photo of the items I had farmed today and listed them down.

"Three bamboo tubes for canteens, forty wild raspberries, two old fishing rods, and one fish trap. No bait left."

And then, I posted it on Murim Gallery.

Naturally, the comment section was a mess right from the start.

Pungun Doryeong?

It was annoying how that old geezer kept popping up, as if he had set up notifications for my posts, but whatever. It wasn't like I was ever going to reply to him.

I ignored him completely and ate my wild raspberries for dinner while scrolling through the other comments that followed.

Maybe it was because I had become a girl, but eating just forty wild raspberries was enough to stave off my hunger. Even though I didn't reply, watching people comment on my post and bicker among themselves gave me a sense of comfort.

"I definitely killed people, though."

Yet, neither then nor now did I feel much guilt.

It was self-defense, so it's fine.

Was that what I was thinking?

For a moment, a chill ran down my spine as I felt like I wasn't myself anymore...

"But looking at how I'm lying in bed, rubbing my stomach, and browsing the gallery, I don't seem any different from my usual self."

Seeing how I was still acting like a forum ghost and finding entertainment in it, I really wasn't all that different, except for the fact that I hadn't felt any guilt over killing those men.

"Maybe my adrenaline just spiked so hard that I couldn't think straight."

The emotions I felt back then were still bizarre, but at least I didn't feel the need to dwell on them right now.

Let's just enjoy the good things.

A few days passed after I made that resolution.

Over the next few days, I roamed the area and gathered a decent haul.

I couldn't find a multi-purpose blade to serve as a kitchen knife or box cutter, but I did find a rusty hand axe.

The moment I gripped the hand axe, the river water rushed over it like an arrow, stripping away the rust. I used it to score fish for grilling, chop firewood, and even build a makeshift table.

It wasn't the kitchen knife I had hoped for, but it was actually more useful than a simple blade. Since the table problem was solved too, all I had left was pure free time.

"Maybe I'll make a small vegetable garden later when I have the time."

Wearing Eom Gutaek's clothes for days on end felt a bit gross, but going around naked at this point felt too embarrassing. So, draped in those rags, I sat by the riverbank, fishing.

I brainstormed ideas for the garden while contemplating how to decorate the area around my cave nest.

This was the slow life. This was living.

For someone who had lived in the hyper-competitive society of South Korea, this kind of time was incredibly precious.

My restless thoughts settled, and a sense of peace washed over me. I muttered to myself, "This is healing, this is true healing," as I calmly waited for a bite.

Then, suddenly.

"A bite!"

Something was tugging.

The fishing rod bent taut, and the line stretched precariously.

I couldn't let it go.

Aside from the line snapping, if I lost my only hook, I wouldn't be able to fish anymore.

I splashed into the water, wrestling with the fish caught on the hook.

"Yes, yes! Do you know how hard it was for me to find that stag beetle larva and hook it?!"

While chopping wood, a giant, wriggling grub had popped out and squirmed, scaring the absolute crap out of me.

I had forced myself to hook that disgusting thing to use as bait, so I deserved a bite like this.

"Is it a salmon? A mullet? Or maybe a carp?"

I rattled off every fish name I knew as I pulled the rod.

"Yes, yes!"

It's coming.

It's definitely coming.

It was a massive one.

If I could catch something this huge, I was more than willing to hunt down stag beetle larvae again next time.

Tonight's dinner.

And tomorrow's breakfast and lunch.

The moment the giant fish, which might feed me until tomorrow night, finally revealed its silhouette above the water.

"Where do you think you're going?!"

I lunged into the water and wrapped my arms tightly around the fish.

It was a fish that had seduced me with its incredibly tantalizing tugs.

It was a firm expression of my resolve to turn it into tonight's side dish, but...

Squish.

"Huh?"

A soft, pillowy sensation that should never be felt on a scaly fish filled my hands.

This soft feeling was just like the one I felt when I touched my own body...

"Oh, crap."

Sure enough.

These kinds of premonitions were never wrong.

"It's a person."

The reason I had been struggling with what I thought was a fish was that my hook had gotten firmly snagged in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠collar of this woman's clothes.

Even if she was light, she must have weighed at least forty kilograms. It was a stroke of luck that the fishing line, the hook, and her clothes had all held together, allowing her to drift toward me.

If it weren't for me, she really would have drowned.

"F-first, let's lay her down in a sunny spot?"

Lay her down...

"Should I perform CPR...?"

The real problem started now.

The woman was unconscious, having swallowed a lot of water.

To force her to breathe in this state, I had to perform chest compressions. But the problem was, did they even have a way to treat broken ribs in this era?

"Will she be okay? She should be, right?"

I hesitated for a moment, but no matter how much I thought about it, doing it was the right call.

No matter what, saving a life came first.

Press!

Press!

With my hands clasped together, I pressed down hard on the center of the unconscious woman's chest.

"One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four."

Recalling the rhythm from the first-aid training I had received back in high school.

"One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four."

Doing it alone was incredibly exhausting. I wished someone in a blue shirt would show up so I could point at them and yell, "You in the blue shirt, call 911!"

Unfortunately, there was only me here.

"Whew, whew..."

By the time I was completely out of breath, forgetting to count and relying entirely on muscle memory to keep the rhythm of the compressions.

"Ugh..."

The woman's brow furrowed in pain, and with a groan, she coughed up water and began to breathe properly.

What a relief.

I didn't have to resort to mouth-to-mouth.