Chapter 3
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 003
Chapter Title: Encounter
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The next day, in the early dawn.
The man asleep in the burrow suddenly stirred. Woojin rubbed his eyes open and stared blankly into empty space with a dazed gaze.
‘......I slept well.’
He had slept deeply without a single dream. It was such a refreshing rest that it almost caught him off guard—it had been so long since he'd had anything like it. A true break.
For the past twelve years, Woojin had never rested through sleep. Sleep was merely a bridge between the dream world and reality. Normally, the moment he drifted off, Woojin would return straight to the real world to prepare for work.
But yesterday, the Woojin of the real world had died. With nowhere for his spirit to return, he had finally been able to sink into a deep slumber.
‘Should I be happy about this... or sad?’
It was essentially a death sentence. Yet after sleeping so soundly for once, his condition was perfect. The trade-off of losing reality for this vitality left him with a strangely mixed feeling.
‘Might as well think of it positively.’
Having roughly settled on that, Woojin crawled toward the burrow's exit. He reached out, pushed aside the shield blocking the entrance, and cool dawn air brushed his face.
Once outside, Woojin peeled off the mud and dry moss smeared over the shield.
Burrows were easy targets for other beasts. That was why Woojin had covered the entrance with a mud-smeared shield. It kept out feral intruders and camouflaged the hideout against the surroundings.
Woojin kicked away traces of his stay, then shouldered his pack.
‘Time to get moving.’
As always, he headed aimlessly toward areas with faint shadows, seeking land safer than this—or perhaps holding some hope.
Thanks to the good rest, his body felt as light as a feather. He was tempted to hum a tune, but he held back—making unnecessary noise was never wise.
And so Woojin walked and walked, until the place he'd left faded beyond the horizon...
‘......Getting a bit hungry.’
After trekking on an empty stomach for so long, hunger finally set in. Time for something to eat. Woojin plopped down on the dirt floor.
He rummaged through his pack and pulled out the leftovers from yesterday: grilled bat wing. Woojin tore off a bite.
‘Tougher than the part I ate yesterday...’
The bat's wing membrane was notoriously chewy. The texture was like kelp stalks, and all the tiny bones made it a hassle to eat. Still, it was precious rations, hard to come by.
Crunch crunch.
Woojin chewed and swallowed even the small bone fragments. It felt like eating dog treats. But keep chewing, and a nutty flavor emerged.
As he wrestled with the bat wing, a faint rustle caught his ear.
‘What’s that?’
Habitually gripping his machete hilt, he turned. There, prowling nearby, was a stray dog.
A large breed covered in red fur. Two long tentacles sprouted from its back, each tipped with bone shards as big and sharp as boar tusks.
‘A stray dog, huh.’
Woojin just called these beasts stray dogs. Their habits and behavior weren't much different from ordinary ones.
They had those back tentacles and were a bit more aggressive than normal dogs... but they still ranked among the cuter beasts.
‘......Hungry, are we?’
The stray dog's eyes were fixed on the bat wing in Woojin's hand.
Normally, Woojin would've ignored the stare and kept eating. But today, after sleeping so deeply, he was in high spirits—generous enough to share his daily bread.
"Here, eat."
Woojin ripped off a chunk of wing and tossed it. The stray dog buried its nose in the meat, sniffing. Then it took it in its mouth and chewed a few times.
Ptooey.
The dog spat out the bat wing. It eyed the fallen scrap on the dirt, then turned its head away dismissively—as if it wasn't food at all.
Woojin watched, momentarily speechless.
"......No way."
That mutt just—?
About to snap something, he watched as the stray dog rose and sauntered off into the woods.
Left alone, Woojin stared blankly at the bat wing. Even a dog turns this down...? Have I been eating worse than dog food all this time?
His head spun a little. Still, wasting precious rations was out of the question. Woojin chewed and swallowed the rest.
‘......Time to move.’
Appetite gone, he wolfed it down hastily and stood. Pack on his back, Woojin set off again.
The hillside was steep. Covered in fallen leaves and moss, it was perfect for slipping. Woojin had to step carefully every time.
Then...
‘What’s this?’
Woojin halted abruptly. Where he'd been about to step, leaves bulged suspiciously.
Something felt off. He nudged a nearby pebble toward it. The stone rolled, disturbing the pile.
Krunch!
A pair of serrated jaws snapped at empty air. A bear trap, triggered by pressure.
‘Almost twisted my ankle.’
But that wasn't the point. Woojin stared at the trap on the dirt.
A steel bear trap. Its metallic sheen was pristine—no rust or mold, clear signs of regular maintenance.
The implication was obvious.
‘......Belongs to another survivor.’
Woojin's eyes sharpened. Strange feelings stirred—bewilderment mixed with thrill.
He'd considered others might survive here besides him. But this was the first real trace.
‘What to do.’
Woojin pondered. Two choices: leave or search for the trap's owner.
The latter was risky. In apocalypse flicks, survivors were often as vicious as monsters.
Fiction or not, Woojin found it plausible. To survive here, you had to shed your humanity.
‘......Risky, but worth a shot.’
The first human trace he'd found. Ignoring it felt unsatisfying.
Decided, Woojin began scouting. He tracked human signs in the ground and surroundings. It proved trickier than expected.
‘Traps everywhere.’
Following footprints deeper into the woods, they grew frequent—like a minefield. Woojin's eyes darted, hunting hidden snares.
‘So many... must've taken a ton of work.’
Setting and maintaining traps was labor-intensive. Moss and mold ruined them over time; beasts broke them too.
Why so many? Not for hunting—the visible ones lacked bait, and clustering them wasted efficiency.
‘Maybe to keep out intruders like me.’
If so, it had backfired. Meant to deter beasts, it had drawn Woojin's curiosity instead.
An old cabin came into view. A brick house amid grayish trees, overgrown with dark gray vines covering everything.
Nearby, stray dog hides stretched on racks—tanned and drying, by the looks.
‘......No signs of life.’
The owner was probably out or napping.
Woojin armed up. Shield in left, machete in right, he approached. At the door, he hesitated.
‘Should I knock?’
Knock or not, they wouldn't welcome him. Woojin just turned the knob.
Creeeak—
The gloomy sound heralded the door swinging open. The small cabin's interior was visible at a glance.
‘No one here.’
Woojin casually scanned around. The crumbling building's inside was shabby—dirt scattered on the floor, cobwebs in ceiling corners.
A dingy blanket draped over a sagging old sofa. Its sunken cushions suggested the owner used it as a bed.
Near the sofa's headrest sat something that caught Woojin's eye.
‘......A book?’
Thick as an encyclopedia. Kim Woojin picked it up and checked the cover.
[Yurgis's Demonic Realm Chronicles.]
The "Demonic Realm" in the title seemed to match this world he'd endured.
‘......Wonder what's inside.’
Woojin's gaze bored into the cover. All those questions from nightmare-plagued years—answers might lie here.
He itched to devour it on the spot. But now wasn't the time.
Company outside. Technically, Woojin was the guest, the other the host. Point was, they knew each other existed.
"Come out. Let me see your face."
A gruff male voice called. Woojin tossed the book on the sofa and stepped out.
An old man stared, bow in hand. His gray hair was a wild mess; his clothes, crudely stitched beast hides.
Coincidentally, Woojin's ragged look matched. They glared like two wild beasts facing off.
"Flat on the ground, face down. Behave, and I'll treat you humanely."
The old man aimed his bow. The arrow nocked on the string gleamed coldly.
But Woojin didn't tense at the threat. If anything, he was intrigued. First human chat in this world—novel feeling.
He studied the man's face intently.
‘He looks pale.’
The old man's complexion was ashen. Something wrong with his health.
"......Let's part on good terms, sir. You don't look well yourself."
Woojin said magnanimously. The old man smirked, amused.
"Fresh one, aren't you? Boy, don't you know your life’s in my hands?"
"I've got mine firmly in hand—no worries."
Woojin demonstratively raised his left-hand shield. If the bow twitched, he'd charge shield-first.
The old man snorted dismissively.
"And if I do this?"
Twing!
A piercing whine like tinnitus. The arrowhead glowed red-hot.
"Oh..."
Woojin eyed the tip curiously. Ominous glow. Did people here have such powers?
Not hugely surprising.
‘......Not my problem.’
Kim Woojin trusted not shields, but his own strength.