Thirteen Potatoes

Potatoes.

One of the world's three great staple crops, and one of the four great sources of carbohydrate. Alongside corn, wheat, and rice, they were the daily bread that had kept humanity's stomachs reliably full.

No wonder the thing had felt so solid in his grip. Who would have thought he'd haul in a catch this big?

"Whoa……."

Eyes gone round, Minhyuk stared at the potatoes dangling in a heavy cluster from the stem.

Th-this was a potato plant?

He'd yanked it up thinking it was nothing but a weed root, and it wasn't even sporting a single lonely tuber.

"One, two, three, four……."

……Eleven, twelve, thirteen. Thirteen in all. From the long stem hung no fewer than thirteen potatoes, clustered like a bundle of gifts. Two birds with one stone—no. Thirteen birds with one stone!

"Hsss……."

Saliva pooled in Minhyuk's mouth.

C-carbohydrates……!

All this time he had eaten nothing but the deserted island's delicious cucumbers. Thanks to that he'd slimmed down like a model, and his skin had cleared until not a single blemish remained. Even so, if you were human—and especially if you were Korean—there was no holding out forever against a proper staple crop.

"Kkureung-kkureung!"

Kkureung flapped his short arms and bounced in place, trot-trot. So you wanted carbohydrates too, huh? Oh, right. This was no time for that.

"K-Kkureung. Hurry and fetch me some twigs. And leaves, too!"

"Kkureung!"

One hand clutching the potato stem and the other a thick chunk of wood, he made it back to the Safe Zone, then snatched up his carving knife without wasting a second.

"Hoo— let's give this a try."

Minhyuk set the knife to the face of the thick wooden block and began to shave. Skritch— skritch— He worked it into a rectangular block as even as he could manage, so it wouldn't wobble when set on the ground, and hollowed a groove down the center so a wooden stick could spin fast inside it.

Was it thanks to the skill he'd picked up while making the wooden hoe? Skritch— skritch—

With fair skill, he'd turned out a base for starting fires.

"That'll do."

Next came the wooden stick he would spin between his palms. Skritch— skritch— He smoothed the sturdy branch Kkureung had brought until it was as sleek as a drumstick, and then—

Fire-starting set, complete!

"Kkureung……?"

Kkureung pressed his nose to the hand-drill set and sniffed, as if asking what on earth the thing was.

"Heheh. Just wait a little. I'll roast you some delicious potatoes."

Minhyuk settled comfortably on the sand. First he scattered a generous heap of leaves over the wooden fire board he'd made himself, then set the stick into the groove.

Whirrrrr—!

He rubbed his palms fast, building friction, and with everything he had he spun the wooden stick trapped between them.

Rub it. Rub it raw. Fucking rub it!

"Haa…… ha……."

His stamina drained at a frightening pace. Before he knew it, sweat had beaded on his forehead, run down his jaw, and fallen. He kept at it until his arms cramped, and at last—

Hiss— hissss— flare!

An ember caught on the fire board. Minhyuk hurriedly fed in more of the leaves he'd set aside.

"Hoo—! Hoo—!"

He blew with all the breath he had.

Whoosh—!

The faint ember caught in the leaves and spread into a clear flame. After tossing in a few more splinters for fuel, Minhyuk flopped onto his back on the sand.

"Ugh…… I'm gonna die."

Light one more fire and he'd be crossing over to the underworld for a sightseeing tour of hellfire.

Ding—!

……Huh?

Experience he hadn't seen coming.

And so Minhyuk's Safe Zone grew by another three pyeong. And then……

Ahh. A skill. In other words, next time he'd be able to start a fire much more easily. The world…… no. The deserted island was still a place worth living.

"Th-thank you……."

A short rest, and his stamina came back. Rest taken—now it was time for a proper feast.

Pat— pat—

Minhyuk wrapped the potatoes in leaves soaked in seawater, then spread mud over them with careful, even strokes.

Whoosh—!

And he dropped them straight into the lively campfire. Thanks to the wet leaves and the mud, the outsides didn't char while the insides roasted moist and tender. The savory smell of potatoes browning drifted pleasantly to the tip of his nose.

"Mm…… whatcha doin'?"

Elia, freshly woken from a deep nap, rubbed her eyes and asked. This kid. She really did have a quiet talent for showing up whenever there was food.

"Come sit, quick. We're about to eat something good."

"Somethin' good……? What is it?"

"Mm. Roasted potatoes?"

He poked at them with a stick and waited, and then—

"Ah, hot, hot, hot."

Steaming roasted potatoes, done. Minhyuk carefully peeled the skin and took a great bite.

Fluffy—

Whoa…… this is insane…….

The potato, steeped in the scent of leaves, crumbled fluffy in his mouth. Soft, moist flesh spread across his tongue, and a deep savoriness lingered there. The shock of the flavor rolled over him like a tsunami.

Khh— now this is the stuff!

His whole body shuddered at the first carbohydrates he'd tasted since being stranded. On top of that, just as the item window had described, they were salty, as if they'd already been seasoned. He didn't particularly find himself missing salt.

"Me too, me too!"

Ah. It had been so good he'd nearly forgotten.

"Hoo— hoo— it's hot, so eat carefully."

"Ahh."

A bite for Elia.

"All right, Kkureung. Open up."

"Kkuruuung~"

A bite for Kkureung, too.

"Mm! It's yummy!"

"Kkureung-kkureung!"

Food in their mouths, and every face turned happy. Right. Elia was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠looked after, Kkureung was looked after, which left—

Wilson, founding member of the Safe Zone and the one in charge of that killer smile.

"Tch. Wilson, you just eat a whole one."

Thunk—

He jammed an entire raw potato, generous as you please, into the corner of that mouth.

Don't mention it. Look how long the two of them had been through together. The least he could do was look after him this much.

And so, once they'd all shared the potatoes—

"You gotta invite me next time too, 'kay? Got it?"

"Got it. Promise."

"Mm. Promise."

Pinky promise secured on top of everything else, Elia left the deserted island. Minhyuk checked the Safe Zone, now risen to level 7.

The customization feature. South, of course—where the jungle was.

"Ooh…… finally!"

Only a sliver of the edge, true. But at last the Safe Zone touched the threshold of the jungle. Minhyuk looked over his domain with a deeply satisfied gaze.

Twenty-one pyeong already. A space once no bigger than a rat's dropping had grown to the scale of a small apartment. The wider the Safe Zone became, the more crops he'd be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠able to raise. And that wasn't all.

He had no idea what they meant to give him. Either way, it was a main quest that would let him return to Earth, and throw in an incredible reward besides.

Bit by bit, it's filling in.

Minhyuk smiled faintly. Humble as the number was, seeing it higher than when he'd started filled him with a quiet pride he couldn't quite name.

Day 22.

Glug, glug, glug—

Minhyuk watered the cucumber patch. Three days after planting, the field was already thick with vines hanging heavy.

Thirty to a vine again this time.

Which made it a field worth a full six hundred coins. Of course, once he set aside a week's worth for himself and Kkureung, the profit would drop. Even so, it felt reassuring for no good reason.

There ought to be a decent pile of coins this time. What should I buy with them?

Tools that were hard to make out of wood? Or an item that would raise the quality of castaway life?

Shaaaa—

Turning the thought over, he gazed idly out at the sea, then set about preparing lunch. Today's menu: sweet, crisp cucumber, and fluffy roasted potato. The so-called deserted-island sweet-and-salty combo.

Whoosh—!

Seated before the campfire and roasting potatoes, Minhyuk turned his head toward the food stores.

Not many left now.

Unlike the cucumbers stacked high, the potatoes were down to just five. He'd tried to eat them sparingly, but there'd only been thirteen to begin with, so what could he do.

Smack—

He clicked his tongue in regret. Then his eyes slid toward where Wilson was.

More precisely, toward the whole potato stuck at the corner of Wilson's mouth, green sprouts pushing up from it like mold.

I got the cucumber seeds in pretty much the same way, so…….

He checked, just in case. Sure enough.

Ding—!

Oh.

"Wilson…… there's really no one but you."

Minhyuk shot up from where he sat, cut the seed potato in half, and planted the pieces at the far edge of the Safe Zone.

The imperial princess's sudden runaway (?). Because of it, the elven imperial court had been turned completely upside down.

Fortunately Elia returned safe and sound within a day, and the highest state of alert—World Tree One—was lifted. The mood in the palace, however, remained heavy. The existence of a player above the five hundredth floor of the Tower had been proven.

Not that it would have been any different for another race. For the elves, who prided themselves on standing first in the Tower-climbing race, the fact was all the more shocking.

"Does this even make sense?"

"Above the five hundredth floor?"

"How could such a thing……."

And so the senior high elves gathered in the imperial grand council chamber each wore a grave face and put in a word of their own.

"All of you, be silent."

"……."

At the Emperor's word, the chamber went quiet as if by magic.

"I will ask the princess. What sort of place was it?"

"A suuuper big forest. Lotsa trees. An' there was the sea."

Elia answered brightly, swinging her legs. The best testimony a six-year-old could give. Obtaining any concrete information was, of course, impossible—and yet.

"Wide, you say……?"

"A field-type stage, then?"

"If it is above the five hundredth floor…… it could well be possible……?"

Everyone murmured, baffled. However much they led the Tower-climbing race, the elves had only just reached the 137th floor. Set against the summit at the 777th, they had not even climbed halfway. Which meant there could easily be information about the Tower that they did not know.

"I played with Boss an' Wilson there."

"Boss……? What, exactly, is that name?"

"Dunno? He just said Boss."

Boss and Wilson. Names from which one could not begin to guess a race.

Certainly not elves…….

If they had been, there was no way his own people would not have known. Every other race that had yet to reach the demonic hundredth floor could be ruled out as well. Which left the remaining candidates—

Demons, and humans…….

The only two races to have reached the 130th floor. The possibility was strong indeed.

"Oh, an' Kkureung too!"

"K-Kkureung……?"

"Mm. I played with Kkureung too."

At the princess's testimony, the Emperor's expression went cold.

Kkureung…… is it? Don't tell me—a lightning-type ability user?

Just as that one called ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Boss had done, the one named Kkureung surely had not given his true name either. Which meant Elia must have heard the crack of lightning and come up with the nickname herself.

If he is an ability user who wields lightning…… then he is a demon…….

A fairly reasonable guess, and yet he still felt dazed.

Those wretches have only just reached the 131st floor…….

Above the five hundredth? How in the world?

That was when it happened.

"Your Majesty, though I am unworthy to speak……."

"Speak."

Kelia, knight commander in charge of the elven forces, carefully began.

"That title, Boss, is also, I believe, a form of coded speech."

"Coded speech, you say……?"

"Boss. That is—the head of some organization."

"……What?"

In an instant the air of the council chamber went cold, as if someone had dashed it with ice water.

"Elia. What were those ones doing there?"

"Dunno?"

"Anything will do. Speak. Even something small."

"Umm……."

Elia puffed her cheeks and thought for a moment, then produced her answer.

"A business? Mm. He said it was a business. A business that needs a cool merchant like me!"

"Ah……."

The Emperor let out a groan, his head spinning.

A b-business…….

It was certain. Demons. Those atrocious creatures who had inherited the blood of devils were clearly up to some scheme in the upper floors of the Tower, above the five hundredth. A terrible plot that would shake the very foundation of the Tower—one that might even threaten the survival of the elven race.

Gulp—

The Emperor swallowed dryly, made a show of grave deliberation, and opened his mouth.

"Kelia."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"I command the entire army. From this moment, we declare a state of emergency equivalent to wartime."

"As you command."

He did not know who they were, nor what atrocious plot they were hatching. But he swore they would not find his people easy prey.

……Meanwhile.

Minhyuk—employer of Princess Elia, and the man currently running a farming business above the five hundredth floor of the Tower—

Sprout—!

"Ooh!"

He let out a whoop of triumph at the potato field, where new shoots had pushed up in only three days.

Now……!

He could harvest potatoes with his own hands, too.