Chapter 107
Chapter 107
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 107
Chapter Title: Mistletoe - 1
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Ah...
Maybe I should've just told her to stay in the government shelter.
Living with Dajeong revealed flaws I hadn't noticed before.
Her love of food and slight nuttiness didn't even qualify as real drawbacks.
Her true downsides were snoring, sleep-talking, and thrashing around in her sleep.
The terrifying three-piece combo left me tossing and turning all night.
We'd originally kept separate rooms, following the strict old rule that boys and girls shouldn't sleep together after age seven.
But she wasn't one to let me sleep peacefully.
Fine, her bringing her pillow and lying down next to me was okay.
But then she slung her leg over my body, started thrashing, and began snoring.
And on top of that, sleep-talking.
"Hngaaah, honey, you're amaaazing~"
"Ugh, seriously."
I kicked off the blankets and moved to another room.
The weird part was, without me there, she'd get up like a sleepwalker and follow.
Thanks to that, I barely slept all night.
I woke her at dawn and asked. She claimed she knew nothing.
"I didn't sleep a wink all night. Because of you."
"Then sleep here."
Dajeong patted her bedding.
I asked how she'd managed with Seok-hyun. She said she hadn't noticed a thing.
"...You two didn't both snore and thrash, right?"
"Maybe we did?"
"You guys are seriously not normal..."
"I don't wanna hear that from you."
"I sleep quietly, okay."
This is why being alone is better.
I excused myself and went into the cave for some peaceful sleep.
When I woke, Dajeong was fiddling with her long hair, grumbling.
"Guess I'm not getting enough nutrients. My hair's all dry and frizzy."
"Say that after you lose some belly fat."
"What? Feel this—it's so nice. Wanna touch?"
"Pass."
I'd teased her about gaining weight, but really, her big frame just made it look that way.
A ghoul came in, set down two bottles of purified water, and left.
She started washing her face like a cat.
"Lately, even finding water is haard... Ugh, it's cold."
Her hands must be chilled from the winter.
"No cold resistance gear?"
"Nope. Got one to spare?"
I only had one, and I was using it, so no.
I told her to wait, boiled some water over the fire pit, and brought it out.
Mixed with cold water, she made a weird humming noise and rubbed against me.
"Hnggg. Yeah, only Sung-ho for me~"
"No weird noises. Just wash up. Hey, you stink."
"Sweating's normal in the apocalypse. You probably smell too, right? Sniff sniff."
She buried her nose in my chest, sniffed, and looked shocked.
"Weirdly fresh... with a subtle scent..."
"Probably from living in the woods. Hurry up and wash."
"Yep."
While she washed, I did the same and prepped breakfast.
Oh yeah, today was December 1st.
I pulled out a nail. It lasted a good while.
5 minutes, 10, 15—still holding shape.
Clear proof the Metal Plague was fading.
It held for a full 30 minutes before snapping when I applied force.
Doesn't turn back to sand like before anymore.
Dajeong was combing her hair with a comb when she muttered.
"By February, we might be able to use iron again."
"Probably need a big shelter for that. Gotta have a furnace."
"You can't use it either, right?"
"Who knows."
I had the dung beetles.
They could extract and process metal without any facilities. Incredible ability.
Practically a miracle, in my eyes.
Even modern society needs massive effort and cost to refine ore.
But the beetles skipped it all, chomping with their mouths.
And to precise specs.
They understood laptop videos, so given time, guns weren't impossible.
I smiled contentedly, and Dajeong furrowed her brows.
"You know you're grinning all sleazily right now?"
"Happens sometimes."
"Keeping secrets from me too?"
"Not secrets exactly... these guys are just shy."
"Guys? What, your dung beetles are friends?"
"Hold on. I'll ask."
"Ask what now..."
Dajeong looked utterly confused.
Seeing dung beetles that understand speech might make her rip her hair out.
I went inside and asked the ones prepping harvested veggies.
"Okay if I show you to someone else?"
The leader thought it over, then shook its head.
Still uneasy.
I went back and told her. She eyed me suspiciously, like I was lying.
"Think what you want."
"So there really are dung beetles that understand speech? I'll see them someday."
"Let's eat."
Breakfast was pork soup.
Dajeong freaked out, saying she couldn't remember the last time she'd had hot pork soup.
"Might have a bit of off-flavor. Not house-raised pork, and rough prep."
"Pork soup in the apocalypse—who cares."
"Added some shrimp sauce too."
"Wait, I'm a broth-first taster."
That type exists?
Anyway, she sipped with a plastic spoon, went "Kuuu," and thumbs-upped.
We wolfed it down.
Dajeong took ghouls farming; I checked the English doc from the president.
"...Hold up."
Something off.
Chinese and Japanese sound and look like Korean to me. Why not this?
"Only works on spoken language...?"
If an American read it aloud, it'd sound Korean.
Dajeong came back later and tried—sounded like Konglish to her.
"Gotta be a native English speaker reading it?"
She grumbled about picky magic.
Wait, is this actual magic?
"Could be."
I mumbled, and she chucked instant noodles at me.
"Stuff this first."
"Can't eat ramen anymore. Expired."
"Product shelf life and safe eating differ."
"True, but it'll start smelling oily soon."
I opened the pack for her to sniff. She wrinkled her nose and backed away.
"Pungent."
Bad storage spot.
"Why ramen's not long-term food. Short shelf life. Noodles better."
"What? So food situation worsens over time?"
"Apocalypse norm. Need long-term survival plans."
City farming works now, but options dwindle daily.
Survivors and monsters both scavenging.
Marts, convenience stores, logistics centers long picked clean.
Now takes hours hustling for city food.
Outskirts better—rice centers.
Shelter rice stocks high, no rush.
Dajeong looked dumbfounded.
"Always calling me pig, but you're the pig. Hoarder pig."
"Heard anything about gasoline shortages?"
"Time shelter, duh."
"Won't open till year one. And people watching—don't wanna be target."
"True. Oh, heard refineries stockpiled oil."
"Details."
"Pork soup wasn't enough?"
"...Catch a pheasant for lunch."
"I like braised chicken. Anyway..."
Her story:
Government prepped more than time shelters.
Contacted refineries for additive-treated diesel, gas, kerosene in special containers.
Mind-blowing info.
"But announce it, gets raided. Winter kerosene craze. So hidden in rural spot no one knows."
Separate use planned.
"Location?"
"Old man's got it?"
Probably...
Damn.
Didn't wanna tie to that shelter, but no choice.
Shelter expansion needs mini-forklift; gas stock just enough.
Why no diesel? Wanted unified fuel.
Chose gas forklift on purpose.
Found something in government auction promo items.
Dog Island folks chatting in code.
Already made level 15?
Gym members' chats visible, minus cafeteria trio.
"Whoa... they're grinding hard."
Dajeong yanked my ear.
"Fix that muttering. I'm right here."
"Got it. Just surprising. Dog Island at 15."
"We're over 20, so yeah."
"Still..."
Su-yeon popped to mind.
Doctor, so good English.
Yoo-hyun handles tech terms.
Have them read the doc?
I pulled code chat, posted comment.
Comments exploded.
.
.
.
"Sis, sis! Sung-ho hyung commented!"
A peaceful day on Dog Island.
Yoo-hyun spotted it during break, ran out.
In the vast veggie patch, Su-yeon and Ji-man dug spinach.
"Huh? Sung-ho?"
"Yeah. Asks if everyone's good."
"...Real. Break time."
They plopped down.
Winter farming tough, but Dog Island thrived.
Potatoes, sweet potatoes, spinach ignoring seasons.
Ji-man's bio-affinity trait.
Full winter chill now, but food worries nil.
"You guys jumping in complicates. I'll handle. Ahem."
Su-yeon got permission, cleared throat.
Why untie that kerchief like a country auntie?
Thinking of seeing Sung-ho after ages excited her a bit.
Post-Seoul, no word if alive.
Mainly cuz low levels blocked auctions.
He recited mystery English, asked if translatable.
Bullet and powder recipe.
Where'd he get this?
What next?
Sung-ho's moves always secretive.
Su-yeon understood.
Dunno if he got hers.
Yoo-hyun chimed in.
Su-yeon's head spun from his English pronunciation but jotted it down.
Ji-man chuckled, said rustic accent easy to follow.
Always positive on Sung-ho.
"Oh, write in English."
Yoo-hyun grabbed dictionary, translated to English.
Took nearly an hour.
Hyung-jun, cafeteria trio, Mi-kyung came, asked, gawked.
"Sung-ho reached Seed Vault?"
Hyung-jun asked; Su-yeon shushed, said pronunciation so bad hard to follow.
"Ah, Sung-ho, not that."
"Whoa, he heard."
Mi-kyung giggled.
Finally done transcribing.
Sung-ho urged quick use, listed Seed Vault seeds at 10 points.
Nearly all Korean veggies headed to Dog Island.
Hyung-jun nodded, arms crossed.
"Really hit Seed Vault. Keeps promises."
Su-yeon and Yoo-hyun dove into translation.
Not much volume, but military terms tough.
Dictionaries helped finish interpretation.
Sending back took time.
Sung-ho thanked, sent weapons and food.
Mi-kyung slyly commented.
Departure discord gone.
Mi-kyung bragged new effect OP.
Chat ended. Sung-ho gripped the paper.
Now real bullets possible.
Not instant—needs steady effort.
"Possibility's what counts."
Enough.
Opened dimension gate, explained to dung beetles inside.
They clutched heads, uncomprehending.
.
.
.
"Hmm... needs gasoline..."
Jang Won-taek heard Kimbap Lover's request, face ambiguous.
Not kerosene—gas? For what?
Lee Beom-seok advised.
"Gas-powered equipment, probably."
"In that sub-space?"
"Vault recovery shows non-native Korean trees. Likely..."
"Monster homeland."
"Yes."
"Guns there too, gas gear... Squirreling away."
"What now?"
Jang tapped pencil, stopped.
"Expected English translation ask... Has help? Dajeong's English?"
"Basic greetings."
"Other ally then. Engineer maybe."
"Track?"
"...No. Don't raise alarms needlessly. Remember, not enemy."
"But could be."
"So show goodwill... Before other shelters snag him. Send Ganghwa gas depot location."
Ganghwa depot: massive fuel stockpile.
Gov't strong-armed refineries.
Opening it pained Lee.
"Jackpot for him."
"Don't misunderstand. Giving to get back more."
Meanwhile, Sung-ho got exact coords, fist-pumped.
Stingy president gave easy—odd.
"Wants something later..."
Gorged, must regurgitate. Natural.
Getting tangled this way felt iffy.
"Whatever. Do my part."
Priority: Ganghwa for fuel with Dajeong.
[Mistletoe - 1] End