033 - Paradise's Milk
The excavation of the Silver Foam was nearly complete, and Jeong Su-hwan's group had returned to the territory. Deliveries of the Silver Foam would begin in earnest next week. Reconstruction of the housing in the Second Northwest Sector was finished, followed by the completion of the Third West Sector. Since I planned to increase the number of houses, I headed out to build more upon hearing the report—but I was in for a big surprise.
Housing / Hospital / Farm / Livestock / Bathhouse / Fisheries / Brewery / ???
Something new had appeared. A brewery. Anyone could tell at a glance it was for making alcohol.
"Hmm..."
It was great that a new building had unlocked, but I had no idea what condition I'd satisfied to make it happen. Had I built more than five houses? No clue. I wanted to construct it right away, but I couldn't plop a brewery smack in the middle of the housing cluster shown on the city map. So I stuck to the plan, built the houses, and started reconstruction on the Second Northeast Sector.
"A brewery, huh..."
Excluding the bathhouse—which focused purely on luxury and convenience—this was a facility that prioritized extravagance over cost-efficiency compared to other production buildings. But alcohol was important. Even before the world ended, booze was the most bang-for-your-buck way to get a dopamine hit, a balm for tough lives. And now? In this hellscape, it could make even teetotalers crave a drink.
Take me: pre-apocalypse, I'd nurse a beer or two late at night while watching anime, tops. Now? I drank pretty often. Of course, living with two superhuman liver powerhouses—Awakeners whose tolerances put ordinary folks to shame—meant my own capacity had ramped up naturally from keeping up with them. And if this brewery was built with my ability, it wouldn't churn out cheap diluted soju. No, it'd produce proper premium liquor.
"If production volume's high, I could brand it 'Nakyuan Premium Spirits' and sell it at a markup."
"We got a report from the Union this morning."
"What about?"
"The Korean Reconstruction Government hung the Dome Head corpse they subjugated in the capital square, parading their 'victory' to the public."
"Good grief... Wasting that prime material as a public piñata?"
"Right?!"
I wanted to hand over my share of Silver Foam to the government right then and trade for the Dome Head body. Toss it straight into the workshop, and it'd spit out top-tier gear. Hearing they'd use such a rare material as a trophy drew a sigh from me on reflex.
The two shattered Silver Foam cores were safely stashed in the second basement warehouse. Once all the Silver Foam arrived in the territory, I'd process it all together in the workshop. If combining the cores with Silver Foam yielded even one top-grade item... it'd be something insane.
Naturally, this workshop product would go to Im Jui, the MVP of the Silver Foam hunt. No one objected. Recalling her splitting that Silver Foam queen wide open, hurling her sword to the ground, and holding the rift agape like a badass... no other candidate fit.
She'd refuse if I told her outright, so the executives—minus her—decided among ourselves. We'd surprise her the day the Silver Foam arrived.
"What if we reach out first, offer Silver Foam in trade for the Dome Head corpse? Too forward?"
Han Seol pondered for a few seconds before replying.
"We've had no official contact with the government or Hye-won, but an informal trade might be possible... I oppose bringing it up out of the blue."
"Why?"
"Anyone can see Silver Foam remnants are the rarest byproduct. Handing it over first, demanding a Dome Head corpse in return? They'd suspect us. And reaching out now would make us look like we're kowtowing."
"True..."
Even rotten herring has its status. Outwardly, folks denied it, but deep down, they acknowledged the government's legitimacy. Us offering Silver Foam for a corpse? It'd look off. Some would think, "They've got a Special Awakener who crafts from monster bodies." Others: "Why trade treasure for worthless meat? Tribute?"
"Never thought I'd crave collecting corpses."
I wondered if the current government held the old Korean military's named boss corpses—or had ditched them. Sun Dancer, Six Wing, Metro Worm, Siren, Obelisk... the horrors that terrorized Korea and mutual-destructed with the army. No reason to toss them, so maybe stored? But with the collapse and move to Gangnam, who knows if they bothered.
"They'll display the Dome Head a while, and probably won't discard it after. Let's wait it out."
"Yeah. Shall we head out? I've picked the reconstruction target. Call the executives and Director Lee Kyung-min."
"Yes!"
Han Seol beamed, buckling her sword to her waist.
I'd agonized for weeks over the 41 points left after the hospital reconstruction. Two options: Houses cost 20P each—rebuild two more. Or spend 30P on a production building. Or third: Save for emergencies.
Han Seol advised rebuilding any production building ASAP. They generated food on fixed timers; upgrading sooner meant more grub faster. Solid logic. I'd hesitated over the awkward 11P leftover from a 30P spend—some weird OCD thing—but her point killed the doubt.
I strode straight for the livestock building from the entrance. No fanfare assembly to avoid worship vibes; this would be a stealth upgrade. Residents were used to white lights from buildings now—no panic, just assuming I'd done something.
As I passed, everyone paused work to bow.
"Yeah, keep at it. Don't mind me."
A bit wasteful, sure—but monster-hunting ops aplenty ahead. Especially provincial areas swarming mid-tier beasts sans named bosses. Maybe send bombardment drones on an expedition.
At the livestock building, I called out:
"Reconstruction."
Simple reason for picking livestock: Farms gave carb-heavy crops—great value. But we had two; build more if needed. Between livestock and fisheries, meat edged out.
Whoooosh.
"Huh?"
The two-story building was now three stories.
"That's it...?"
Underwhelming compared to houses or hospital drama.
"Let's check inside?"
"Yes!"
We executives filed in.
"Ah, gotcha."
Vending machine meat production: originally one pack per 48 hours, halved to 24 by Na Hye-won's amplification. Post-rebuild? Down to 12 hours. Double the beef per time unit. Solid upgrade, but...
Up to the second floor, formerly stocked with milk and butter.
"Something's increased!"
Milk tank unchanged, but fill rate felt way faster. And from one butter vending machine? Now five total.
"First one's butter... and something new."
Butter production also halved. The next three had cup holders instead of baskets—no "10/10," but "100%." Disposable cups and plastic spoons nearby.
Grabbed a cup, set it down, pulled the lever.
Shiiiick.
A smooth, fluffy white stream poured in.
"Your Excellency!"
"That's—!"
Everyone knew what it was. A rare territory-produced ingredient now—fussy to make, premium-heavy, so chefs whipped it fresh for my snacks.
Lifted the lever, scooped delicately, tasted.
Melted smooth on the tongue, sweetness flooding my mouth.
"Whipped cream. Want some?"
"Thank you!"
Passed a cup each to the executives; they devoured it.
"How is it?"
"Like the luxurious stuff on fancy cakes."
"So good."
-I'd eat ten plates of this.-
We polished off a round, yet still 100%. Generous yield.
"Call the chefs."
"Yes!"
Best to demo ingredients directly.
Chefs arrived; pulled the third lever. Slightly thinner white liquid poured, tangy aroma hitting.
Sip: zesty, nutty, appetite-whetting. Healthy yum.
"Yogurt. Dig in."
"Thank you!"
"An honor!"
Western chef Joo Yong-cheol cheered at the whipped cream—"I dabbled in desserts back then!" Chefs tasted yogurt, buzzing with menu ideas.
Fourth lever:
Vrrrrm.
"Hahaha."
White mass descending—ice cream realization dawned.
"Man... this is legit good. Try it."
Milky ice cream, rich like from upscale shops. Chefs had made some before, but this felt more ice creamy. Waffle cone would perfect it.
Fifth: basket below. Button press: 9/10, large plastic tub dropped.
"Huh?"
Opened: nutty scent, coiled white layers inside.
"Seen this somewhere..."
Joo Yong-cheol jabbed excitedly: "Kaymak! Kaymak!"
"Kaymak? Vaguely from TV. How ya eat it?"
"Delicious solo—usually honey-drizzled on bread."
"Huh. Fetch bread and honey downstairs."
"Yes!"
Turkish delicacy, impossible now—even with cows, Korean breeds lacked Turkish productivity.
Bread and honey arrived. Joo sliced kaymak delicately, drizzled, plated.
"Just spread like butter?"
"Yes, most common."
They waited on me. Spreads silkier than butter, whipped cream texture.
Bit in.
"Mmm..."
Delicious. Distinct from butter or cream—elegant depth.
Swallowed, stared silently; Joo fretted.
"Your Excellency, is something wrong...?"
"Hah... too good for words."
They tucked in.
"Identical."
"Huh?"
Lee Kyung-min marveled: "Med school trip to Turkey with buddies—same taste as there."
We demolished a tub.
"Won't spoil here—empty 'em all."
"Yes!"
Too low-volume for 10,000 residents; gifts to Union warlords or occasional rewards.
Timer cuts satisfied; new vends thrilled—but worth 30P? Third floor held the answer.
Creeeak.
Door opened; collective gasp.
"Whoa!"
"Your Excellency, this!"
Chefs' eyes bulged.
"Damn... this is premium. Yeah, reconstruction delivers."