A Question of How to Die

This was no longer a question of whether he would live or die. Minhyuk had come face to face with the question of how.

Keep going like this, and I starve. No two ways about it.

For three days straight he hadn't managed a bite of food — not so much as a single drop of water. If only it would rain. He could have done something with rain. But this picture-perfect deserted island stayed relentlessly clear, without a storm cloud anywhere in the sky.

Starve ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on the sand, or get eaten by a monster in the jungle. Dead was dead either way. And if he was going to die no matter what he chose, then better the path that still held even a sliver of a chance than drying out by degrees, like a pack of wet wipes left with the lid off.

Which meant going into the jungle.

Minhyuk swallowed against a parched throat and stepped out of the Safe Zone. Carefully, he set his foot down on the sand.

Shff. Shff.

The tension was like walking on thin ice. Every few steps he glanced back over his shoulder, working just as hard to keep his line of retreat clear.

If a monster comes bursting out of that jungle...

He wouldn't even look. He'd run straight for the Safe Zone.

That was the plan he carried with him all the way to the tree line.

"...Huh?"

Contrary to every expectation, no terrifying monster came bursting out. There were no vicious-looking plants, either, and no insects. Peaceful birdsong drifted in, soft and unhurried, and sunlight filtered down between the leaves to settle warm over the scene.

"Oh..."

Minhyuk kept his nerves drawn tight as he looked around the jungle's edge. And before long—

"...Huh?"

In the middle of that mysterious landscape, he came face to face with something thoroughly out of place. A massive tree that looked easily a thousand years old. And on the vines wound tight around it—

—a cucumber was hanging.

"...A cu-cucumber?"

Minhyuk stared at the cucumbers dangling in heavy clusters from the vine. Maybe it was because he had awakened — an item window rose in front of his eyes as well.

Bizarre footnotes hung off it in bunches, but the thing itself looked perfectly ordinary. Identical to what you'd find at the neighborhood grocery store. Minhyuk's brow furrowed.

"Hmm..."

Twenty-first-century Earth had three great sects: the Anti-Mint-Chocolate Sect, the Anti-Pineapple-Pizza Sect, and the Anti-Cucumber Sect. A full member of all three, Minhyuk felt an instinctive revulsion the moment a cucumber entered his sight.

"Ugh... cucumber..."

He had hated them since he was little. So much so that, back in elementary school, his special talent had been fishing the cucumber out of whatever food it had infiltrated. Mint chocolate and pineapple pizza were simple enough — avoid the dish, and you were done. This shameless cucumber, though, had wormed its way into every kind of food there was. That only made it more shameless, and more infuriating.

"Tsk. And here, of all places..."

But this was no time to be picky about side dishes. His stomach let out a long, miserable growl. Three days of hunger had left it far too empty for pride.

My throat feels like it's burning up, too.

Tok.

Minhyuk plucked a cucumber from the vine, hesitated, then squeezed his eyes shut and took an enormous bite.

Crunch.

Firm flesh, and a clean rush of moisture spreading through his mouth.

"...Hm?"

The wrinkles pinched into his brow slowly smoothed away.

This...

It was good. It was far too good.

Why on earth...?

Because he'd been starving for three days? This was not the green devil he had loathed. There was none of that characteristic foul smell, none of the bitterness. The flesh was as soft as the heart of a melon, and it soaked his mouth in something close to bliss.

Crunch. Crunch.

A faint sweetness that deepened the more he chewed. A fresh brightness that lingered, fragrant, on his tongue. And more than that, the thirst that had felt like swallowing sand was washed clean away. A cucumber was 95 percent water, after all — practically a naturally produced, eco-friendly bottle of spring water.

What kind of cucumber tastes like this?

As if possessed, Minhyuk devoured the whole thing in an instant.

Ding!

A message window rose in its wake. Minhyuk gave an unimpressed shrug.

Agility up by 0.01? Is that a lot? Doesn't seem all that impressive.

The whole world had been buried in hunter talk, so he knew the broad strokes. Until a few days ago, though, Minhyuk had been an office worker drowning in his job. He wasn't a hunter otaku, either. When it came to specific stats and exact numbers, he was a complete outsider — and stranded on a deserted island, he had no way of looking any of it up.

Well... it's probably commonplace in the hunter world.

On paper, it was a mere 0.01. And with his stomach plastered flat against his spine, stats and all the rest of it were not what mattered right now.

"Hoo... should I try just one more?"

Minhyuk eyed another cucumber hanging from the vine, and his mouth watered.

At that same moment, in the Federal Hunter Management Bureau of the United States.

"We mobilized our very best to track the transport's whereabouts, but we couldn't find a single trace."

Sally, head of the Federal Artifact Division. At her report, Director Michael twisted his mouth as if the whole matter sat badly with him.

"Gone completely, then?"

"Yes. That's our assessment as of now."

It had happened a week ago. An S-rank unmanned transport, loaded with all manner of artifacts and bound for home, had vanished — in the middle of the Pacific, without a trace. There hadn't even been any warning signs. Every signal had cut out in an instant, as if the ship had shot straight up into the sky, and that enormous vessel had erased itself from the world in the blink of an eye.

"We found no sign that the transport sank, and no wreckage either. There's no trace of another faction's involvement. At present we can't even determine where it disappeared, or why."

Missing, in the most literal sense. And not just any ship — an S-rank transport packed with rare artifacts.

Director Michael was silent for a moment, then spoke.

"What's the chance this puts humanity behind in the competition?"

One day, a tower had risen over the Earth. And not only the Earth. Elves, dwarves, orcs, beastkin, demons, and more — towers had sprung up at the same moment across the worlds of other dimensions. They differed in shape and in location, but their interiors were shared as a single world. And every race was climbing the Tower as if racing the others.

"It won't be without impact, but we don't expect our ranking to change."

First place currently belonged to the elves, who had broken through to the 137th floor. Humanity was right on their heels at the 135th, and the demons ranked third at the 131st. The gap with the elves had narrowed considerably — but with the transport missing, the artifacts that should have gone at once to Humanity's Expedition Force had fallen short.

"We'll have to convene an emergency summit. Even if it means requesting relic-grade artifact support from every nation, we have to keep that gap from widening."

"Yes. I'll pass that along to the Expedition Force as well."

The reason humanity had formed an Expedition Force at all, and was clawing its way up the Tower?

Simple. The 777th floor. The legendary land at the very top of the Tower — Eternal Island.

That island was said to be buried in resources and treasures of every kind, and not ordinary treasures. Legendary artifacts and absurdly broken resources, things that could not even be compared with anything yet found in the Tower, lay buried there. Resources precious enough to advance human civilization by several whole dimensions. The other races were scrambling up the Tower for much the same reason. The Tower's highest floor, Eternal Island. Whichever race reached it first would one day reign above all the rest.

A land of gold, heaped with broken resources of every kind. The legendary island every race longed to reach. The 777th floor of the Tower, Eternal Island. And yet, for now, it remained unknown territory that no one had set foot in. Which was why all sorts of bizarre rumors circulated among the Tower's players.

"Sally. Do you believe them? Those rumors."

Director Michael said it with the corner of his mouth tipped in a crooked little smirk.

"Ore with infinite energy under the island. A stone that can cross dimensions. Herbs that cure every illness and grant eternal youth. A sword that can command the universe... stories like that."

The sources were uncertain. Some claimed they had heard it from the Tower's NPCs. Others insisted the tales were written into the Tower's mythology.

"And I heard another one somewhere. They say plants grow naturally on that island — plants that permanently raise your stats just from eating them."

"Who knows?"

Sally shrugged.

"We'd have to see it ourselves, but isn't it probably exaggerated? That's how myths work, isn't it? A metaphor for just how incredible the place is supposed to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be."

"Well... maybe."

Hunters were the sort who ground themselves down to the bone for even the smallest gain in stats. And this wasn't even some precious elixir. Plants that permanently raised your stats from nothing more than eating them, growing wild. Eternal Island or not.

As if something like that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could exist.

An easy, unguarded smile settled at the corner of Michael's mouth.

Crunch. Crunch.

It stung his pride a little, as a sworn cucumber hater, but credit had to be given where it was due. The flavor of this Desert Island Cucumber was fantastic. It existed on an entirely different plane from Earth's shameless green devil.

This could actually sell.

He was sure of it. This was not the kind of quality that ended at a neighborhood fruit stand. Slap a fat premium on it, set it out in some fancy department-store pop-up, and it would fly off the shelves. Of course, Minhyuk — shipwrecked on a deserted island — had no way of doing any such thing at the moment.

Crunch. Crunch.

Only after he had demolished eight of them in a flash did Minhyuk's cucumber massacre come to an end. A pleasant fullness. Better still was the fact that cucumbers remained — cucumbers that could quench his thirst and fill his hunger at the same time.

"Looks like I won't have to worry about food for the next few days."

Keeping a wary eye on his surroundings, Minhyuk plucked another from the vine.

Tok.

Don't get greedy. Just ten? That ought to last him through dinner tonight.

No. Wait.

It was safe for the moment, but a wild jungle was a place where a beast could leap out anytime, from anywhere. For Minhyuk, simply being outside the Safe Zone was a risk in itself.

So if I'm thinking ahead to tomorrow morning... twenty?

Any more than that was too much.

If I had a cart or something, I could haul off a lot more.

He was thinking exactly that, and had plucked about three, when it happened.

He had acquired a skill.

"What did I even do?"

Eight cucumbers eaten. Three plucked to eat later. All ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he had done was gather eleven cucumbers, and he had acquired a skill.

"Is this thanks to Versatile?"

The trait of the class he had awakened.

True to the name Survivor, it was an ability perfectly suited to staying alive. At first he had hoped for something flashy, like a mage. Looking at it now, awakening as a Survivor had been an incredible stroke of luck.

"Right. Whatever else happens, surviving on a deserted island comes first."

Minhyuk nodded, satisfied, and looked over the skill he had just gained.

It wasn't an especially tremendous effect. Minhyuk turned his attention back to picking cucumbers.

Tok.

Tok.

Was this thanks to the skill? Somehow the cucumbers seemed to come away more easily than before. His movements were cleaner, quicker — that was the feeling of it.

Pretty useful, in its own way.

For Minhyuk, who had nothing to gain from lingering in the jungle, it was a perfect fit.

He was gathering, quick and clean, enough cucumbers to last until morning — and that was when it happened.

Repeated gathering had raised Minhyuk's level.

And then...

His small, precious Safe Zone grew a size larger.

Along with some bizarre new effect—