Chapter 293
Chapter 293
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 293
Chapter Title: 118. Tale (3)
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As J sealed the only exit with trash, plastic sheets, and chunks of collapsed debris, the ecology hall became perfectly isolated from the outside world.
The fully sealed ecology hall formed its own independent ecosystem.
Upon realizing this, J first felt a surge of elation, but that thrill quickly faded.
He had grasped the reality.
That he, too, could not escape the confines of this independent ecosystem.
In other words, J the human was merely a part of the sealed ecology hall.
For any organism to survive, it requires a certain amount of caloric energy.
If the space it inhabits is a limited area, then its survival depends entirely on the calories produced within that area.
If the area generates sufficient calories, the organism can live on. If not, destruction is inevitable.
The ecology hall where J had taken root spanned 3,546 square meters.
It might seem excessively vast for one person, but the plants inside didn't produce all that much energy.
Moreover, it was the transitional season.
Until now, Korea's humid autumn weather had kept the plants alive, but as temperatures dropped, most would wither away.
The total caloric output of the entire area would diminish.
This reduction would harm not just the plants, but the small insects, arthropods, and fish that fed on them and their byproducts. It would ripple to the capybara family and ultimately affect the top predators.
A chain reaction of ecological collapse.
J had enough food for the short term, but not enough to last through a long winter.
He would have to rely on the ecosystem to some extent.
Whether foraging, hunting, farming—it didn't matter.
The caloric shortfall had to be filled somehow.
At the top of the food chain sat three animal species.
The Nile crocodiles, the Amazonian giant otters, and humans.
The Nile crocodiles and Amazonian giant otters had to go.
They were rivals competing for the excellent protein source: fish.
The massive arapaima, Piaruru, lurking deep in the dark artificial pond was another prime target to hunt before the cold set in.
Left alone, it would devour most of the pond's fish.
Of course, he could wait for it to die of neglect and eat it then, but culling it beforehand was far more efficient in terms of total caloric preservation.
The urgent issue was the fish and meat in the freezer.
Already thawed, they would spoil quickly.
A waste of precious calories.
J decided to sort out what he could eat from the freezer stock and feed the rest to his rivals in the ecology hall.
The Nile crocodiles inhabited the artificial pond at the center.
The Amazonian giant otters and Piaruru shared the same territory.
"I had no idea back then. That decision would bring me a new friend."
Tossing the spoiling meat into the pond was meant to preserve the ecology hall's calories as efficiently as possible.
But shortly after he scattered the fish, something dark approached him.
It was the Amazonian giant otter, affectionately called "King Moon" by visitors.
Tame from cubhood, it devoured the meat J threw with frenzy and even acted cute for more.
Only then did J realize the Amazonian giant otter he saw as a rival wasn't one at all.
It was less an otter and more a human child.
Weaned on bottles instead of its mother's milk, cared for by humans until near adulthood.
It had inherited no hunting or survival skills from its parents—just a fate to live out its days as a spectacle for visitors.
"Peep! Pee-eeep—"
Seeing the giant otter roll on its back before him, J thought of his nephew in Seoul and found it adorable.
When J headed to the control room, the otter naturally followed.
Now for the priorities: the Nile crocodile and Piaruru.
The Nile crocodile first.
That species actively preyed on humans without hesitation when the chance arose.
Considering Piaruru was no easy prey, eliminating the more dangerous foe made sense.
In the control room with his new otter companion, J ran mental simulations.
How to kill that crocodile.
His weapon? A steel pipe.
Not enough.
He needed something more lethal, more powerful.
Soon, he recalled a horrific hunting tool often problematized in Korea.
A snare.
Wire twisted so that once the prey stepped in, any struggle only tightened its grip—a brutal device.
Easy to make, and he had plenty of materials.
His past volunteering with animal welfare groups, removing snares, had familiarized him with them.
Feeding the otter spoiling fish as bait, J crafted his deadly trap.
The day of reckoning arrived.
J glared at his rival, huddled in the increasingly murky pond where the filter had failed.
Beside him, his otter friend paced eagerly, begging for food.
J set snares in key spots and initiated his final gamble.
Using himself as bait.
Clutching a club in one hand, he groped toward the lurking crocodile.
It didn't react at first.
Each time, J closed the distance.
Heart-stopping tension.
The opportunistic predator's explosive lunge and speed were devastating. Caught in it, J would be just another prey item, defeated in the food chain.
"Come on. Come here, you bastard."
Tapping the ground with his club to provoke it, J lured it on.
Soon, the crocodile's legs twitched.
"!"
J bolted at full speed.
The crocodile lunged simultaneously.
Spraying water everywhere, J saw the massive shadow bearing down.
Just a bit farther!
A thud echoed.
A sound of relief.
Proof it had landed outside its lunge range.
But that fleeting relief led to a mistake.
J slipped on the water-slick floor.
Worse than the daze of impact or stabbing pain was the silhouette of the killer crocodile splashing closer.
"Peeeep!"
A miracle occurred.
The ever-present Amazonian giant otter charged the crocodile.
True to its "kingly" name, it measured 1.8 meters long, blending weasel-family agility with ferocity.
The otter tore at the crocodile's body, buying J time to scramble up and retreat behind the snare.
"Over here!"
J shouted to the otter.
Tame with humans, it obeyed swiftly, pulling back.
What followed was smooth hunting.
The crocodile snagged in the snare, struggling only tightened the death grip.
J watched it thrash until it weakened, then slit its throat with a sharpened stake he'd made himself.
The greatest threat was gone.
J expressed boundless gratitude to the otter that saved his life.
From that day, they cohabited.
Many episodes ensued, but the Piaruru hunt stood out.
He'd rigged a net to haul it up, but its monstrous strength shredded it. So J fashioned a spear and hurled it into the water like a prehistoric hunter from millennia past, spearing the beast.
The reward was immense.
Days of calories preserved, plus what it would have consumed.
The otter was always by his side in those triumphs.
Temperatures plummeted.
The outdoor gauge read 12 degrees.
As J predicted, tropical plants died off.
Green gave way to withered brown.
J noted the die-off was faster and more widespread than expected.
Winter like this would turn the hall into a dead ecosystem.
Fortunately, food seemed ample.
Quickly eliminating rivals left plenty of fish in the pond.
Harvest them before freeze-up, and they'd sustain him.
The harsh winter would prevent spoilage too.
Dead plants would serve as firewood.
Winter was long, but not eternal.
Spring sun breathed life back in.
The browned tropicals greened anew.
The pond fish were gone, but J wasn't worried.
By now, the Chinese army had likely left.
His long isolation ended.
He dismantled his barricade and stepped out.
How long since fresh air?
His otter buddy waddled at his feet, sniffing about.
What to do with this guy?
As he pondered, something appeared.
People.
J rushed back inside.
No doubt about it.
Armed folks roamed—not in Chinese uniforms, but bad vibes all the same.
Perhaps his isolated years had instilled wild instincts.
Bang! Bang!
Gunshots rang out.
All through the night.
That day, J felt his fated path.
He had to stay longer.
In this sealed, other ecosystem.
His gaze turned to the innocent otter frolicking beside him.
"......"
The answer was set.
If he couldn't leave, he had to survive on inside resources alone.
He lacked courage to exit.
But not to kill a companion.
"Peeeep!!!!!!!"
On a mild afternoon, J killed the otter.
The only mercy for his lifesaver was a painless death, but it wasn't easy.
Wounded by the sudden strike, staggering and bleeding, it wailed pitifully at him.
The slaughter lasted an hour.
In the blood-soaked room, J sat before the otter's corpse, eyes closed, deep breaths.
"......Hoo."
It was done.
Now the ecology hall's total calories would sustain one human.
After killing his friend with his own hands, J's life differed little from a beast in the wild.
Forage, rest, forage again.
His sole civilized act: feeding otter meat to the mealworms.
Even in savagery, he couldn't stomach that.
One mealworm weighed 0.1 grams.
100g of them yielded about 530 kcal.
Thus, J lived in perfect isolation, perfect balance.
A year later, he emerged and surveyed.
No people left.
Just a few skeletons hinting at former inhabitants.
"......I thought that was hell."
Back among people, J said.
Then corrected himself.
"No. That was Eden."
J vanished abruptly.
No one knew where, but they guessed easily.
Back to that perfect balance—hell or Eden, perhaps.
The tale didn't end there.
"......A group of scavengers went there. A decent-sized crew, they said. They found the ecology complex. Just like J described: a tropical hall with an intact glass roof and a gap barely big enough for one person. But get this."
Bang Jae-hyeok gave a wry smile, looking at us.
"Places like that have info plaques, right? Listing plants and animals. But there were no Amazonian giant otters, Nile crocs, or Piarurus listed. Folks who'd visited pre-war confirmed those animals weren't there."
J was never found.
No trace of his otter, Piaruru, crocs, or wriggling mealworms.
What the scavengers discovered: filthy trash, ragged clothes, and a single skeleton tangled in wire snares.
The story plunged into eternal mystery.
No one to confirm if J's account was real or metaphor for true events.
"The scavengers felt watched as they left. The plants were thriving then. Maybe J was hiding in that jungle, observing his seekers."
The tale's reception was decent.
No applause, but faces showed emotions.
"What? J lied?"
"The otter was human, right? So was the croc?"
"Dunno. Could've been real otters. Plaques lag on updates, so unlisted critters roam fine."
"I think I glimpsed a croc."
Anyway, the long story wrapped.
Time for my postponed tale wouldn't hurt.
I cleared my throat and dove in.
"Raw meat mishaps from..."
Hong Da-jeong's voice exploded simultaneously, swallowing mine.
"The rain stopped!"
"?"
My rigid audience surged outside past me.
"For real! Look! Sun! It's out!"
"Finally over."
The typhoon passed.
Without incident.
"We'll save John_nenon hyung's story for later."
Only Valentine offered a wry smile of comfort.
But it wasn't consolation-worthy.
"......"
Crackle crackle
I posted J's story to the Red Archive board.
True to my internet community expertise, it was a chilling yet mystical "tale post" with eerie BGM suggestions and helpful photos of Amazonian giant otters, Nile crocs, etc.
This bizarre, enigmatic story garnered good reactions on Red Archive.
Perhaps the "tale's" aftermath influenced me slightly.
I had a dream for the first time in ages.
In it appeared my mentor, Jang Gi-young.