Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Island Survival: First, Second, and Third Principles
There was a chance more supplies had washed ashore from the shipwreck, and more importantly, I was expecting fragments of civilization that the sea might generously offer.
I cracked open a bottle of water and took a sip while walking slowly.
If the ship I had been on was truly torn apart, then a tactical bag like the one I had found would have drifted somewhere nearby.
And not just that. Even trash was valuable here.
The truth was a depressing byproduct of science. The reason islands like this are often filled with garbage is because of ocean currents that flow in fixed directions.
Trash thrown into the sea from land travels thousands of kilometers, carried along by these currents, until it accumulates at points where the currents bend or collide, piling up in layers on certain islands.
Wood and paper rot away, but plastic and Styrofoam, the backbone of modern civilization, do not decompose. Something dumped on the other side of the planet decades ago can end up under my feet today.
In the end, all of humanity’s waste just keeps circulating the planet until it lands here.
After walking for a while, something finally came into view.
“Ho… look at this.”
It was treasure caught in the cracks of the rocks during high tide.
A large block of Styrofoam.
Excellent insulation. It could be used as a seat or even a flotation device for a raft. If I laid it down to sleep, it would block the cold from the ground and help preserve body heat.
Plastic containers.
If they still had proper lids, they were basically gold. They could store water or be used as funnels for collecting rain.
I already had a clean plastic water bottle, but in survival situations, more is always better. The more, the better.
Then—
Ah!
A tangled fishing net.
The most welcome find of all.
If I unraveled these sturdy lines, I could use them for tying gear or making traps. And if I was lucky, I could even use them for their original purpose and catch fish.
“Humans sure are consistent about throwing trash away… and I’m surviving thanks to it. Thanks, you human pieces of trash.”
I cut away the excess parts of the net with my knife and tied it to the side of my bag.
Crunch, crunch.
The rough sound of sand breaking under my feet.
As I walked, I realized just how wide the shoreline actually was.
“Way too wide…”
I muttered to myself and looked up, only to be struck by a harsh sensation.
The sun.
A cloudless sky poured down relentless sunlight, stabbing straight into my eyes.
Ah, I couldn’t help but let out a sound.
One thing people often overlook in survival situations is that the most dangerous thing isn’t hunger or predators.
It’s the sun above your head.
From everything I had seen in survival videos, the sun deals continuous damage.
First, dehydration. Just standing under this heat makes the body sweat uncontrollably to regulate temperature.
That means I’ll need more water than even the sip I just drank.
Second, sunburn. Skin exposed to UV rays without protection turns red and burns easily.
Third, heatstroke. If the brain overheats, judgment fades, and collapsing alone here means death.
It sounds dramatic, but the solution is simple.
Shade fixes everything.
I pushed myself into the edge of the forest to escape the scorching light.
Under a large palm tree, I sat down and caught my breath.
Now I needed to recall the first principle of survival on this island.
First principle: stop moving.
Ironically, the healthier you feel, the more mistakes humans tend to make. Adrenaline surges, fear kicks in, and people instinctively try to do something.
But on a deserted island, random movement equals death. Every action burns calories, and every burned calorie shortens your lifespan.
Complex thoughts, worries about the future, all of it becomes poison here.
I forced my mind to go blank.
A hard shutdown of an overloaded brain.
Then—
Choi Do-hoon. And Sujeong.
Their faces flickered through my mind.
I had planned to cut their throats the moment I saw them on the shoreline if they were still alive, but there was nothing there but waves.
No traces meant either they were alive somewhere on this island, or they had already become fish food.
I exhaled slowly.
The real problem was what came next.
If they weren’t on the island…
This wasn’t Korea. The palm trees made that much obvious.
Even if I aimed for escape, there was no guarantee I’d end up anywhere near home. I didn’t even know what country this island belonged to.
“What the hell am I supposed to do…”
The curse dissolved into the forest air.
Then I slapped my knee.
Focus on the only thing I can do right now.
Survival.
Leaning against the shade, the heat slowly faded.
Then I remembered something Sujeong had forced me to do once: an MBTI test. The result was INTP.
Back then she had laughed and clapped her hands.
“See? I told you, you’re totally an INTP. A complete robot. Zero empathy, always thinking alone.”
When I said I didn’t believe in statistical nonsense, she leaned against my shoulder and whispered,
“Oppa, if the world ended or you got dropped on a deserted island, you’d probably survive the best. You don’t get swayed by emotions. You’d calculate everything and live like a machine. You might even end up ruling the place.”
Back then I thought it was just teasing.
Now it sounded like a damn prophecy.
Maybe the reason I was adapting faster than most people in this hell was because of that so-called INTP nature.
I opened the crumpled chip bag on my lap.
One bag of chips: 340 kcal.
Two bags: 680 kcal.
Two chocolate bars: 380 kcal.
Total: 1,060 kcal.
The average adult male burns 2,000 to 2,500 kcal per day.
“Damn it.”
Just walking along the beach had already burned most of it.
The chocolate bars were my last emergency reserve, like medicine for the moment I’d collapse from hypoglycemia.
Then I noticed something strange on the chocolate wrapper.
One corner felt oddly soft.
“…Wait a second.”
No way.
“Shit, it’s melting!”
I had messed up.
I immediately started digging into survival knowledge I’d seen in videos.
They buried things underground.
I dug into the soil.
The shaded ground under the palm tree, untouched by direct sunlight, should be cooler than seawater temperature.
I scraped into the damp soil near the roots. After about a hand’s depth, a chill finally reached my fingertips.
Found it.
I wrapped the chocolate bar in wet wipes and buried it in the hole, then covered it with soil.
To mark the spot, I placed a flat stone on top.
That should slow the melting at least.
As I stood up, my head spun.
“Ha… ha…”
Breathing was getting rough.
Not from heat. From exhaustion.
My brain felt like it was shutting down from overload.
Too tired.
My body felt like it didn’t belong to me anymore.
I grabbed the water bottle with trembling hands.
Gulp, gulp, gulp.
The water slid down my throat and soaked into my dried-out insides. Drops spilled from my lips onto the sand, but I didn’t even have the energy to wipe them away.
After drinking nearly half the bottle, I finally stopped.
“…Ah.”
Not regret. Relief came first.
But soon after, my vision wavered.
The world started to ripple unnaturally.
I fell backward onto the sand.
It felt softer than any bed.
The sky spun.
Am I collapsing?
Dehydration, calorie deficiency, mental strain.
The conclusion was obvious.
Shutdown.
I didn’t want to move a single finger.
A faint fear whispered that I might not wake up again, but the weight of exhaustion was far stronger.
“…Just… a little… sleep…”
I steadied my breathing and drifted off.
I don’t know how long I slept.
It wasn’t deep.
“…Ugh.”
I forced my eyes open.
I pushed myself upright.
I had pushed too far.
Trying to conserve calories while ignoring my body’s signals had brought me here.
Even machines stop when they run out of fuel. I had overestimated my own hardware.
Without hesitation, I pulled out another bag of chips.
Crunch.
I finished it instantly.
I drank water and looked up at the sky.
The sun hadn’t moved much.
Maybe around 11 a.m.
Time felt unnaturally stretched here.
My body still felt heavy, but the worst of the collapse had passed.
After a while, I forced myself up again, squeezing out the small amount of energy the second bag had restored.
I scanned the shoreline again, hoping for more debris or supplies from the wreck.
Endless waves, blue horizon…
And then—
“…What is that?”