A Survivor's Diary
It was probably around midnight.
Without a watch, it was highly inconvenient not being able to know the exact time.
Earlier that day, Jeron had searched through a jewelry store and meticulously scavenged several houses, managing to find a few watches.
Unfortunately, their batteries were completely dead, and not a single one functioned.
On his next scavenging run, he would have to stop by a convenience store, a stationery shop, or a supermarket to see if any usable batteries remained.
Jeron emptied the contents of the survivor's backpack.
Clatter.
A variety of miscellaneous items spilled out.
A portable cooking set, a camp stove, a lighter, a water bottle, two books, a few cans of food, and a compass scattered across the floor.
"Quite a decent haul."
If nothing else, the lighter and the compass seemed incredibly useful.
It was a Zippo lighter, and it even came with a canister of lighter fluid. It would be highly practical for starting fires in the field during military campaigns.
And the compass?
That went without saying.
In this primitive world, such a thing as a compass did not exist.
Most people navigated by the rising and setting of the sun or by the constellations. Because of this, a guide was absolutely essential for any long journey.
With a compass, finding one's way would become incredibly easy. It was nothing short of revolutionary.
"I should stop by a stationery store next time to see if they have magnets."
Once he realized he could utilize Earth's items, his rigid thinking began to loosen, and ideas started flowing one after another.
If he had a magnet, he could carry a simple needle and use it as a makeshift compass.
By rubbing a needle against a magnet to magnetize it, he could easily create a compass. Floating the magnetized needle on water would allow it to point north and south.
Though it carried the minor inconvenience of needing to mark the north and south ends of the needle, that could easily be solved by simply charring the north-pointing tip with fire.
Packing the items he currently possessed would immediately yield a functional set of marching gear. He would need to add a few more things, but it was a solid start.
Jeron pulled out the diary, which had seemed the least useful of the lot.
Come to think of it, wouldn't notebooks and pens also be excellent items to carry around?
If he could find a stationery shop and gather pens, they might make for highly profitable trade goods as well.
"The ideas just keep coming."
At this point, he felt almost apologetic for cursing the Guardian Dragon in the beginning.
Even without hauling heavy machinery, there were countless items that could benefit him.
Looking at these modern conveniences, Jeron felt a sudden wave of pride in himself for somehow surviving eighteen years in this primitive medieval society.
Flip.
Jeron casually flipped open the diary.
July 30, 2030
The mutant invasion has intensified. No, they are swarming toward the cities, and we were merely prey they hunted along the way. Those things that ended the world have noticeably decreased in number, but their physical capabilities have grown stronger. How does such power come from those emaciated bodies?
August 3, 2030
Mr. Kim's team, who went out to forage for food, did not return. Looking out from the rooftop, I can still see mutants running around. It seems a few of them have settled in this small neighborhood to keep hunting. Could those monsters have developed intelligence?
September 30, 2030
Chae-hee went out to search today and said she saw a blue light emanating from a mutant. A blue light? She said the moment that damn thing's body glowed blue, it suddenly accelerated as if it had been injected with some kind of drug. The survivors believe the monsters are starting to evolve. I agree with them.
...
July 2032
Most of the survivors left in the town have died. For the past two years, I have survived by hiding from the mutants remaining in this area. It is an exhausting game of hide-and-seek. A few days ago, another mutant entered the territory. The two monsters fought, and the one that originally ruled this place won. Afterward, the survivor roamed around, letting out mad shriek after shriek.
August 2032
...Chae-yeon, honey, I'm sorry. I don't think I can hold out any longer. Now, we can finally meet again...
"Ha!"
Jeron let out a sharp breath.
The diary was the record of a lone man. A journal of his final days.
It roughly detailed what had occurred on Earth after Jeron had died in his previous life.
While the early entries attempted to convey facts objectively, the writing grew increasingly emotional toward the end.
The handwriting became erratic, reflecting a mind driven to the brink by isolation before finally choosing suicide.
The last entry was a frantic scribble, written in a state of clear delirium.
The man had likely drunk himself into a stupor and run out into the open.
Ultimately, the last survivor of the town had not starved to death; he had lost his mind to loneliness and abandoned his own life.
Jeron understood the man's feelings all too well.
After his own family had died, leaving him to survive alone, Jeron had also contemplated suicide countless times.
Yet, back then, Jeron could never bring himself to end it. He had feared death, believing that even a hellish life was better than the grave.
After offering a brief moment of silent tribute to the diary's owner, Jeron began to write down a summary of Earth's current state in Korean.
1. The mutants have mostly swarmed to the cities, wiping out survivors as they swept through the surrounding areas.
2. Their numbers have decreased, but they have evolved.
3. As the mutant population dwindled, they seem to have established territories. Like wild beasts, they likely possess distinct hunting grounds.
4. The mutants may have learned to utilize mana.
5. Heading toward the cities right now is suicide. There is no telling how powerful the mutants that survived this long have become.
"It was a good decision not to head toward the city."
Rural villages were highly likely to be relatively safe.
While it was impossible to know if the city mutants were still alive, Jeron saw no reason to risk his life needlessly.
If he eventually acquired magic and could lead an entire order of knights, he might consider it. But entering a city to scavenge now was pure suicide.
A warm spring breeze now swept across the entire fiefdom.
Over the past month, Jeron had alternated between scavenging and managing the estate, slowly filling his private warehouse.
During that time, he had thoroughly searched not only the town but the entire surrounding area, gathering anything useful.
Of course, the items he collected were mostly canned food, jewelry, batteries, alcohol, and various flower seeds. When he was pressed for time, he simply brought back scythes, hoes, and plows from abandoned blacksmith shops.
The time to move on to another town was drawing near.
There had also been a major shift within the estate.
Baron Ark Farrow had officially passed his title to Jeron.
Stepping down to become the former lord, he had built a house by the lake, declaring that he would spend his retirement in peace with Ophelia.
In this era, someone in their forties was considered elderly, but to Jeron, who had lived a past life on Earth, it felt absurd.
Forty was prime working age, yet he was already retiring?
It was a cultural gap born from the fact that the average lifespan of people in this world was barely fifty years.
Having essentially been forced to inherit the estate, Jeron became the new Baron Farrow, taking full control of the territory.
Of course, doing so did not bring any immediate, dramatic changes.
The fief was still impoverished, and no miracles had occurred overnight.
But Jeron intended to start making those changes now.
"My Lord, I have brought the serfs!"
"We greet the Lord!"
The loyal veteran knight, Sir Jenald, had brought the serfs who farmed the lord's personal land without asking a single question.
The number of serfs working Jeron's personal fields numbered in the hundreds.
While war slaves were relegated to harsh manual labor, the serfs had lived as laborers for the lord's family for generations, meaning they generally caused no trouble.
They knelt at Jeron's feet, trembling violently.
To look a noble in the eye was to risk losing one's head on the spot.
Furthermore, with the knights standing guard and glaring fiercely, looking up at Jeron was out of the question.
"Village chief."
"Yes, My Lord!"
The village chief crawled forward.
Though he was old and his knees were likely stiff, he practically slithered across the ground.
It was unfortunate, but keeping the established customs intact was the most practical approach for now.
"Take these and plant them."
"Yes, yes, My Lord."
Jeron handed over the flower seeds.
No explanation was necessary.
Serfs were serfs for a reason.
Their status was below that of common citizens; they were treated entirely as the lord's property.
It was impossible for them to question their master.
"Do not overwater them, and make sure they grow well. If you cultivate them properly, I will reward you handsomely."
"We... we shall do exactly as you command, My Lord!"
The chief banged his head against the ground repeatedly in a display of deep reverence.
The serfs carried the flower seeds away as if they were jars of gold.
And why wouldn't they? It was a direct order from the lord. If they lost even a single seed, their lives would be forfeit.
While the other knights silently followed behind Jeron, Sir Garcia could not contain his curiosity and spoke up.
"My Lord, why are you personally overseeing farming matters? You could easily leave such tasks to the servants."
"Do you have a complaint?"
"It's not a complaint, but isn't it unusual? Commander, aren't you curious as well?"
"It is not our place to question the Lord's decisions," Jenald replied flatly.
"You heard him, right?" Jeron smirked.
"Please, My Lord, just tell me what they are."
"They're just flower seeds. They will soon become our territory's primary export."
The knights exchanged puzzled glances.
They could not comprehend how planting flowers could generate any meaningful revenue.
In this era, flowers were considered luxury goods, so the idea of cultivating them for trade seemed highly unusual.
However, since this fell under the administration of the estate, it was not something the knights needed to concern themselves with.
After handing the seeds to the serfs, Jeron made his way back to the castle.
Today, Junior Baron Romid was scheduled to visit from Hanes County.
Over the past month, Jeron had steadily sold the gold he scavenged from Earth, and today, the first shipment of grain—the payment for the gold—was arriving.
And today, Jeron intended to present a truly 'relic-grade' item to the visiting noble.