One Month of Mad Preparations
I went online and posted something on a forum. [Guys, I'm building a bunker—what should I include? I'm gonna make it solid enough to survive alone till I kick the bucket even if the world ends. Hit me with ideas.]
Thanks. Nothing really helpful there. Truth be told, I hadn't posted expecting advice anyway. Habit, more like. Whenever I felt lonely, I'd toss up posts like this. Folks like me banding together, sharing the obsession. I added one more comment, hoping these people would make it too.
All sorts of wild imaginings from those folks, but maybe one or two had ramen stacked at home? Hell, like in those smut stories, maybe enough ramen to trade for a woman a few times. Anyway, I already had a rough plan. I was gonna buy a mountain. Gyeonggi had too many zombies probably, so Gangwon Province. Mountains near the capital were pricey anyway. Gangwon it was. Slight worry about half-assed apocalypse where soldiers roll up with guns... but after seeing zombie hordes in the dream, all kinds of thoughts cluttered my head. A bunker should dodge that, right? Problem was, bunker construction timelines looked tight... I had just one month left. A bunker in a month? Probably impossible.
[Eric!!!] Oh, he's dead. Checked out some drama for zombie prep vibes, but yeah, the loudmouth dies first. Better just build a bunker and hole up quiet. That's the way. Simple lesson from the drama.
That one month flew by. Tons to do, total chaos. Hustled hard, blew cash, but even my 2 billion lotto winnings didn't all get spent. Essentials were cheaper than expected. Bought plenty, and still money left over. Should've grabbed a Gyeonggi mountain if I'd known. Gangwon's military presence still bugged me. Could've installed a bunker for peace of mind, but no time. Fabricator was in the US—shipping alone over a month. Looked bombproof... Unrevealed rich folks might outlast me. I prepped one month; they'd been bored-building bunkers for years. No time, so I went with a construction firm for a container building instead. Residential containers weren't the shitty shacks I imagined. Pre-fab units snapped together quick. Finished product was solid. Outer walls: solid concrete packed with rebar. Door: tank-proof steel gate.
"Why build something like this?" the construction boss asked. Gave no real answer, so he dropped it. Ignorance is bliss. Didn't wanna get labeled crazy. Residential container: 50 pyeong. Attached 100-pyeong storage. Total 150 pyeong. Residential part finished slick—not like a container at all. Looked like a normal house. Floor: electric heating—perfect since gas would be iffy. Roof: all solar panels as an add-on. Enough to sell excess power, they said. Should cover whatever. Appliances: doubles. Two fridges, two washers, three microwaves. Small stuff like coffee pots: four each, stockpiled. Fridges were commercial-grade—if both crap out, use those. All three? Fate.
Apocalypse essentials: food and water. Obsessed over food. Who knew canned goods came in so many varieties? Beef, pork, chicken, braised meats—dozens of meat cans. Mackerel, sardines, tuna, fruits, even canned bread. Warehouse stuffed with cans—safest long-term meat storage. Rice, grains, nuts like peanuts: vacuum-sealed, no spoilage. Lucky, pre-packaged available. Dairy: whole milk powder. Snacks: high-sugar stuff galore. Tons of chocolate. Tasty, high-cal—prime survival food. Bought out everything non-perishable on card, so I don't even know exactly what's there. Rice alone: 600 bags. 200 years' worth annually. No starving. Water: groundwater well dug. Unlimited unless motor fails. Spare motor ready. Oh yeah! Lucked into a combat ration producer—grabbed heaps. Not old nasty army slop, but tasty new self-heating ones. Pull a string, steam rises.
Medical: mostly overseas direct. Domestic stuff okay, but bulk sellers scarce. Ibuprofen 200mg fever/pain/anti-inflammatory: 10 packs of 360. Childhood syrups worked on me, ibuprofen hits good. TylXenol 350mg: 10 packs of 350. Illegal but traded openly via sites—antibiotics 10 packs. Plus gauze, bandages, mercurochrome, skin antibiotic ointments. Tweezers, scissors, even scalpel for emergencies. Bought scalpel, realized sutures needed—got surgical staples too. Finally, weapons. Strongest legal: bow. Crossbows count as firearms, need permit with psych eval from doc. No-go for me. Compound bows x5, 1,000 arrows. ...A thousand zombies here? Bows backup anyway. Guns next. Korea's armistice nation. Reserves, wartime stockpiles: guns, ammo, grenades. Knew a spot: Gangwon school basement warehouse. Reserve gear intel. Thought reserve training chatter would spill it easy, but tough. Bribed a reserve instructor. Plan: raid morning of outbreak. Normally, busting the door brings armed troops. But by then, Seoul's zombie hell, right?
"You really doing the surgery?"
"Yeah."
"Reversible, but young guys like you often stay clogged even after... Might regret it."
"Heard it a million times. Do it."
"Alright... Anesthesia coming."
The urologist repeated himself. Young guy wants vasectomy—fair worry from a fellow dude. My prep wasn't for humanity's reboot. Better prevent any nightmare spawn. Needle prick below, numbness spread. Familiar feel... Didn't expect this again. Flashback to circumcision. Awkward after, but comfier. Vasectomy same. Recovery: full week. Doc said young = fast heal; normally longer. No fapping days, just room shopping—body stiff. Oh, games too. Not a gamer, but last community tip. Tomorrow finally. September 9, 2022. World ends.
"Weird... Why am I kinda excited?" Caught myself buzzing with anticipation. Spending and prepping was fun too. Never had fun in life, but apocalypse eve? Ironic.