Chapter 131
Chapter 131
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 131
Chapter Title: 68. Lotto
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Our doomsday preppers' way of survival is a hundred flowers blooming.
Neither side is absolutely right.
Everyone has their own circumstances and situations.
Still, from afar, living as a human looks pretty similar no matter what.
Even amid countless differences, there's always something to learn.
Take my neighbor Rebecca, for instance—she's surprisingly skilled at foraging and hunting.
She spends the whole day perched on a rooftop watching for Koreans, but at sunset, she goes scavenging around the area with her daughter.
Sometimes she even shocks fish out of streams using batteries for electricity, hauling in massive catches.
She says it's a skill she picked up out of necessity while living in the Canadian wilderness as a kid, but there's no denying it contributes to her and her daughter's survival.
That said, relying solely on sporadic lucky hunts won't cover your daily food needs.
Their move-in is probably right around the corner.
Meanwhile, my other neighbor Defender has a killer rep online as a murderer, but the skill I respect more is his scavenging prowess.
The guy gets around like crazy.
Not just the entire capital region, but Chungcheong and even Gangwon Province—he's scoured them all.
"I've even crossed the front lines to the edge of Hwanghae Province."
That's what Defender told me over coffee when we met up in person once.
"Hwanghae? North Korea? Isn't that an erosion zone?"
"Parts of it are eroded, but others are fine. I figured the whole north was wrecked because Paju's so bad, but it gets better farther from the gates. Doesn't mean no monsters or mutations, though."
I asked him.
Didn't constantly roaming outside feel dangerous?
"It is."
Defender answered.
"For me too."
His brother, who was fiddling with his computer, glanced over.
"But."
"But."
The siblings said in unison.
Defender's brother made a "you first" face, so Defender turned to me and continued.
"Out there might actually be safer in the long run. Resources, or if something dangerous pops up, you can find another shelter. Us living here is the result of scouting around everywhere, right?"
Even back then, Defender's logic made sense.
Taking small risks to prepare for bigger ones by building connections here and there—it was like when I first built the bunker and lined up ties in Seoul.
That conversation with Defender had been looping in my head lately.
"The outskirts have surprisingly good stuff. The government issued evac orders so fast, herding everyone into big cities. Easy-access spots got cleaned out by scavengers already, but there are hard-to-reach places too. Find one, and it's a goldmine."
The scavenger life.
A way of living I never considered before the war.
But now, with the world's collapse dragging on and more people under my responsibility popping up one by one, securing more resources is essential.
"Winter's the best."
Defender had said.
"Why? Good?"
"Cold for us means it's cold for anything hunting us too. Plus, when it gets frigid, most things have to light fires or freeze. Spot the smoke, and you know where people are. That's why I like winter."
I decided to adopt Defender's approach.
Not going full-time scavenger, but at least scouting areas around me that I don't know well with my own eyes appealed.
The weather was perfect.
Minus 2 degrees Celsius.
A few hot packs, portable fuel, and the insulation from the winter gear John_nenon and I jointly bought from the US made it spring-like for activity.
I threw a white poncho raincoat over my outer layer and pedaled out of the bunker on my bike.
The area I planned to scout was uncharted territory: south.
When the Gold Pack ruled, no need to explore their turf, but now that they'd moved on, familiarizing myself with the terrain was necessary.
Breathing out white puffs, I headed south along the white-clad expanse.
The southern area wasn't somewhere I'd visited much even before the war.
Nothing really called for it.
I'd driven my truck there a few times for that killer soft tofu place—that was it.
No city, crappy roads, and scenery you couldn't call pretty even politely.
A messy mix of typical countryside and small factories.
Sure enough, soon a half-collapsed, rusting feed factory tilted into view.
Click!
I shouldered my rifle and checked inside.
Nothing.
People had ransacked it once, beasts after that, leaving it stripped like a picked-clean fish skeleton—scrap metal at best.
Not even suitable as a hideout.
The only building in kilometers, flat open ground, no amenities.
Beyond the feed factory lay snow-covered fields and scattered farmhouses.
I searched house by house.
"......"
Tail-end Charlie here.
Not right after the war, but nearly three years later.
Some usable stuff, but unusable now.
A few cans and ramen packs, all spoiled.
Cans bloated like dead cows, ramen moldy in their bags.
No bodies.
They'd evacuated, looks like.
Found a big jar of medicinal liquor soaked with bellflower root—someone had already pried the lid and emptied it.
I sat on the porch, sipping sweet coffee mix from my thermos to restore stamina and spirits.
Ding-ding-
The wind chimes tied to the porch rang pleasantly.
"Wind chimes, huh."
Thought about grabbing them, but what for in the bunker?
Decided to savor the sound while resting here.
After the break, I biked toward the township along the road.
The southern township was more rundown and depopulated than the eastern one where the Golds lived.
At best, a famous temple nearby supported a few big eateries catering to temple visitors.
The stone-bowl soft tofu joint I'd hit a few times was one.
Always packed back then, now half-roof-collapsed and decaying.
I squeezed through the entrance choked with trash and weeds, lit my lantern, and peered inside.
"......"
Am I too gullible?
Unlike Defender said, nothing here?
This wasn't some haunted ruin crawl.
Hunched over, rummaging the tofu shop, my prize: one earthenware pot.
Thud.
Tossed it in the basket.
No tofu or way to make it, but felt like I should take it.
After the pot, checked other shops.
Freshwater spicy stew, chicken, dumplings, buckwheat noodles, spicy chicken stir-fry, hand-pulled jjajangmyeon.
Places I'd thought "one day" but never visited before the war.
Late, but visiting now.
No people, chefs, or staff meant no food smells, naturally.
Nothing worth taking.
Debated snagging a plastic jjajang bowl from the Chinese place, then turned and spotted an amusing sign.
< Lotto 1/47 >
Saying I've never bought a lotto ticket would be a lie.
Even I, Park Gyu, have tried.
Sure, sharp-as-a-tack professor days? No way. But when debts snowballed beyond control, I chased life reversal with regular online ten-thousand-won buys.
Bought plenty, never hit over five thousand won.
That's lotteries for you.
Someone wins, but never me—something like that.
Once Rebecca's family moves in soon, I wanted to show Soo what a lotto ticket is, so I went inside.
"Oh."
Entering, I let out an exclamation.
Unlike the trashed, wrecked spots elsewhere, this lotto shop felt untouched by time—like stepping back in history.
Scavengers hit this town for sure, but skipped the lotto shop.
Easy to see why.
What's a lotto good for in the apocalypse?
No more draws, no place to cash a jackpot scrap.
Even if money still mattered, whatever.
Wall-mounted desk for marking numbers on the spot pre-war, with lotto sheets and sharpies waiting under dust for human hands.
For fun, I dusted one off, popped the sharpie cap, and marked numbers.
It worked.
This trivial act sparked inexplicable excitement; I marked six numbers in seconds.
Of course, marking alone doesn't win.
Pay, scan the numbers, buy the ticket proper.
Too bad no miracles now.
Shoved the sheet in the machine, mimicked the beep-beep~ sound for vibes.
"......"
Recapped the sharpie, left the shop.
Glanced back once outside.
Couldn't live a week dreaming on a ticket like old times, but at least I felt the winner's thrill.
A shop preserving past nostalgia might be the win itself for folks like us.
Anyway, haul from my first scavenger run today:
Earthenware pot, two soju glasses, a slightly cracked bonsai from under a planter, and the lotto sheet I marked myself with six numbers.
*
On the way back, I swung by Rebecca's to check in.
Winter's here, and I'm questioning if she even plans to move.
Says yes when asked, but only first couple times. Now dragging feet, dodging—gotta suspect.
Me? If she and her daughter tough it out here, I'm all for it.
Built a cabin, outhouse, but sharing my turf still bugs me.
Arrived at their hideout building; Soo, on watch, scampered down to greet me.
"SKELTON! Juicy- score anything?"
"Nada today."
Gave her the soju glasses as a gift.
"Don't need this."
"......"
"SKELTON, what's that?"
Soo eyed not the pot or bonsai, but the faded lotto sheet.
"Oh? This. It's a lotto ticket."
"Ah, lotto? Like lottery? Match those seven numbers?"
"Six in Korea."
Soo stared at it, then huffed on her hands against the chill.
"You marked it, SKELTON?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Doesn't work anymore? Can't cash for money?"
"Just the feeling."
"Feeling?"
Soo looked baffled.
"Why that face?"
"Mom always said anyone into lotto has a pathetic life."
"......Your mom's up to now?"
"Gaming."
Soo gave an age-inappropriate wry smile and deep sigh.
"Crying over a game friend who died."
"Friend died?"
"Turned into a grave or something?"
"Ah."
Monster Park—still playing that, huh.
Come to think, heard this cold snap hit US and Europe sooner.
Might be one of the victims.
Korea's real freeze hasn't hit yet.
But soon.
"SKELTON!"
Rebecca descended the stairs, eyes bloodshot.
"What do I do? My friend Bob died......"
"......"
"SKELTON?"
"When you coming?"
"Ah, that."
Rebecca averted her gaze.
Clear enough what she meant.
She plans to stay put.
People change minds often.
"Next time."
"Might be no next time."
"Why?"
"Might take someone else."
"Yeah?"
"Life been decent lately?"
"Uh, yeah."
Rebecca looked away; Soo pinched her thigh from beside.
"Soo! What're you doing?"
"Tell the truth!"
Soo stared up straight, firm.
Rebecca slumped, sighed, eyed me.
"Truth is, two weeks ago, we got supplies."
"Supplies?"
Rebecca nodded, told Soo to fetch something.
Soo soon returned hugging an armful of cans.
"This?"
"Trailer wrecked on the village outskirts. Been there forever, but we pried the door with wrench and welder this time. And then."
"Hit the lotto, huh?"
"Lotto? Yeah!"
Who knows how true—could be more than me, or just weeks' worth.
One sure thing: won't move unless she wants.
True reason soon out.
"......Met some US soldiers."
Rebecca muttered low, eyes down.
"US soldiers?"
"Yeah. Chatting in Viva! Apocalypse!, turns out others are here too, with a camp. Linked up recently! Said they'd send people when weather clears."
"Oh, cool?"
Rebecca nodded cautiously at me, then worriedly watched Soo sucking on some juicy treat.
"......Heard they got kids too."
"Kids."
"Wanna give Soo some friends."
Rebecca looked apologetic.
Studying her face, I asked low.
"Fuel running low?"
Her blue eyes flickered.
She clutched her pants lightly, head down.
"......Yeah."
"Got plenty. Send some tomorrow. No shooting."
Would be lying if no disappointment.
More annoyance, but I'd hoped a bit to live with my longtime neighbor.
But her call.
Objectively, maybe ideal outcome.
Sniper mom-daughter duo—who could be baggage—leaving safely, without burdening me? That's a lotto win itself.
Thinking that, turning to go—
"SKELTON."
Rebecca suddenly leaned her forehead on my shoulder.
Lighter weight than it looked.
Not just weight—her tremor, life's pulse, indescribables transmitted through her forehead.
"......Meeting you is our blessing. This debt—how to repay."
Her sobs came.
A bit flustered.
Her who'd been so hostile, even briefly, pouring out sincerity like this.
"......"
For a split second, felt an emptiness fill.
But fleeting.
"......Mom?"
Soo's watching us!
Staring!
"What, talking like you're leaving tomorrow? Daughter might misunderstand—lift your head."
Pushed Rebecca off, thumbs-upped Soo.
Soo giggled, thumbs-up back.
As I left, Soo called.
"SKELTON. Hope that lotto hits."
"Would be nice."
Lotto sheet pinned next to Soo and my black plastic sheets, naturally.
Meaning, this lotto called me hasn't been scratched yet.
< 68. Lotto > End