Chapter 233

So he immediately hacked off one thick haunch with his hand axe. This single piece would be enough to feed Hanyaseong. It must have weighed at least fifty kilos; slinging it onto his A-frame carrier took real effort, and hefting it up was incredibly heavy.

Hanyaseong considered just heading out like that, but then he remembered something from a documentary he'd seen before. He set the carrier down and sliced open the beast's belly with his sword. A rush of hot steam poured out, followed by a heap of entrails spilling forth. Rummaging around inside, he found a massive liver. The documentary had said this was the best part. He cut it free, loaded it onto the carrier, hoisted it back up, and bolted.

From afar came the thudding thud-thud-thud of hooves—hyenas and the like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠were already swarming in. That reindeer-like beast would end up chewed to bits, bones and all, by those scavengers. With the haunch weighing down his carrier, Hanyaseong grunted his way into the brush, heading for his shelter.

Sweating buckets from the load, he finally staggered back to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠camp. Yadong the beast perked up at the sight of the meat, practically drooling. The lazy thing hadn't even gone hunting itself but sure wanted to eat. Hanyaseong had to negotiate.

"You want meat? Find the entrance to that spaceship. No entrance, no meat."

Yadong growled grrr, baring his saber teeth. But Hanyaseong wasn't handing any over for free this time.

"Find the entrance. I'm not kidding. Or draw it for me."

Hanyaseong shouldered the carrier again and headed to the stream. There, he skinned the haunch, chopped it into chunks, and washed them clean. This would last at least two or three weeks. A spicy stew would be perfect, but without ingredients, it'd have to be grilled again today. He couldn't just dump water and chili powder on it, after all. A proper hotpot would have to wait until he got back home next time. He cleaned the liver too and took a bite—sweet and delicious, like fresh sashimi. He'd snack on it occasionally; he set it aside with the meat chunks.

Back at camp, Yadong was scratching something into the dirt with his claws. Desperate for meat, the beast was straining to draw with his paws. Curious, Hanyaseong peered over—it was a total mess. Paw drawings, after all... He skewered a chunk on a spit and propped it by the fire.

"What're you drawing?"

Grrr—Yadong kept pawing away, fiddling intently. He seemed to think he was being detailed, but it was utter gibberish. Hanyaseong shook his head and lay down on his bedding for a rest. The meat sizzled quickly, filling the air with a mouthwatering aroma. Yadong sniffed eagerly, lips smacking.

"You done?"

Grrr. Apparently so. Hanyaseong got up for a look—still gibberish.

"What is this? What'd you draw?"

Grrr, followed by a vague explanation. A spaceship underground. He pawed a spot—that was the entrance. But where? No clue.

"Where's this?"

He pointed at what might've been the 63 Building, saying something like "that window over there." Which window? Yadong's scribble didn't go beyond that. No idea where the door even attached. Impossible to make out.

"Can't tell from this. Tomorrow, you help find the door. Or no meat."

Grrr—Yadong got pissy. I drew it, didn't I? But ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it was useless. Hanyaseong sliced off a perfectly cooked piece, popped it in his mouth, and chewed. Juices burst, dancing on his tongue. This reindeer-like meat was exquisite. The air here made every animal taste divine, soft as tuna belly—no scraps stuck in his teeth.

"Damn, this is good."

As he carved off more, Yadong grrred and lunged. Hanyaseong fended him off.

"You gonna work for it? Work, and you get meat."

Grrr... Yadong hesitated. Wanted the meat, hated the work. Classic freeloader. But Hanyaseong held the knife. As he kept slicing and eating, Yadong finally grrred in resignation. He'd do it.

"Good. Work hard, eat your fill."

Hanyaseong plopped a big hunk on a plate. Yadong snatched it with both paws, scarfing it down despite the heat. What a glutton. Other wild beasts weren't like this—only him. Definitely unique. And he knew about the buried ship. Maybe a pet raised by giants.

That night, they feasted on the meat and crashed. Next morning, Hanyaseong dragged the reluctant Yadong to the pit to pinpoint the entrance. Rubbing sleepy eyes, Yadong wandered half-heartedly, tilting his head—he couldn't quite recall. Then he nudged a spot with his paw, glancing slyly. Looked approximate.

"Hey, don't half-ass it. Who's gonna do all the work?"

Grrr—scowling, he prowled elsewhere. Memory fuzzy after so long? He wandered forever, then jabbed at another spot. Dig ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠here.

"This it? What if nothing?"

Grrr—he bounced off, insisting it was. Hanyaseong sighed at the mark.

"That's a guess, isn't it?"

No choice. He dug again with shovel and pick. Still upper levels—like the top floors of a building. One or two more, maybe. "Ugh, what a grind." Solo was brutal. But he couldn't bring help. Mysterious treasures were best kept solo. Giant legacy or relic—he'd claim it alone. No sharing with others or humanity. For that day of solo riches, he sweated on.

But two more weeks passed—nothing. He hit his limit. Yadong, nagged till sulky, vanished for days. Reindeer meat gone, thanks to the pig. Exhausted, no more digging stamina. This was a marathon.

"Let's go. Home."

Someone else might come, snag it— their luck. Treasures have owners. If another took it, fine. If truly his, it'd wait. No rush. Honestly, he didn't care anymore. Sick of digging. Eight months like this—time blurred. The other world felt like two days passed.

Hanyaseong sat blankly by the portal, waiting. Hair overgrown and shaggy, beard patchy from no shaving. Looked like a mountain hermit. Weary-faced, he waited till the portal shimmered and dove in.

Down from the attic, clock read past 6:40 PM. Phone said Thursday. Two full days here—nine months there. Longer than thought. Exhaling heavily, he chugged soda from the fridge, crashed on the sofa with snacks. Finally alive. Bathed, shaved. Haircut next, but bed first. Soft mattress lulled him; sleep came easy. Phone check—no calls or texts. Only Choi Yujin sunbae and Jang Eun-ah had his number. Fatigue won; he passed out.

Woke around 10 PM. Sipping water on the sofa, he called Choi Yujin first.

Choi Yujin sunbae clucked her tongue. But it wasn't two days—it was nine months. She didn't know his dick had nearly withered from neglect. Hanyaseong had to coax her over somehow.