Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Need a Doctor
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"It's done..."
I tossed the shovel aside and collapsed onto the ground.
After a 12-hour marathon of digging, the basement was finally complete.
With supports in place and mortar laid on the floor, it looked sturdy enough to serve as a warehouse.
The problem was moisture.
"Guess it'll have to be for canned goods only."
Even a single day in there would probably sprout mold.
And not just any cans—the lids had to be thick and tough metal ones.
"Still, that's something."
Just having more storage space was a huge win.
If only there were a way to deal with the dampness, it would be perfect, but there wasn't.
A dehumidifier came to mind, but that required electricity. Water-absorbing agents? I'd need way too many.
"Humidity it is, then..."
But I wasn't disappointed, because I'd gotten this out of it.
Shining my flashlight on the black glass I'd unearthed from the soil revealed a faint greenish glow.
It was called Emeras, similar to obsidian in properties.
The main difference? This stuff was way tougher.
Split along the grain, it got razor-sharp, making it pretty popular among players.
Veterans like us didn't care for it much, though. No "hand feel" to it.
"You just hold it up, and it cuts. Where's the satisfaction?"
Even brushing against it was risky.
Too many times I'd seen people carrying it around proudly, only to bleed out and drop.
"If I process it right, it could be useful."
This chunk could make maybe ten blades?
Better than nothing.
To secure stability and abundance in this forest, I'd need to borrow even Dingo's paws.
I triple-gloved up and stashed the Emeras lump in the basement.
Lost two gloves in the process—they got sliced clean off.
Touch it at your peril.
"Ugh. You stay put for now."
Thanks to the basement marathon, I was covered head to toe in dirt.
Heading back to the two-story house with Dingo, a delivery text pinged in.
"Oh, the net gun."
It had finally arrived.
The priciest weapon from my order list.
Not lethal, but for someone outnumbered, it was top-tier.
Just yank a couple enemies out of the fight.
"Won't work on orcs, though..."
Werewolves too—anything mid-sized or larger would shred it.
Net gun for small monsters only.
The package was bigger than expected.
Crossed to the forest for a test fire.
Pew, and the net burst out, tangling the underbrush solid.
Nice.
Cleanup was easy per the manual.
Slot into the body, load the capsule, done.
Curious about durability, I yanked hard on the mesh—didn't budge.
Small monsters won't escape easy.
Even with crude tools to cut free, it'd take time—and I'd kill them first.
"Good enough."
Satisfied with the net gun's performance.
Two guns meant 299 shots total.
Felt plenty when ordering, but now a tad short.
"Grab 200 more compressed nitrogen canisters."
Last up: drilling a dog hole in the basement. Tricky one.
Ceiling was solid bedrock—needed heavy gear, basically impossible.
"Could collapse if I'm not careful..."
Woof.
Dingo barked in agreement.
Dog hole on hold.
I had a dimension gate as my perfect escape hole anyway.
Hauled all the sturdy-lidded cans to the basement.
Freed up cave space, and Dingo started bounding around.
Finally felt like a proper home.
But the hideout wasn't done yet.
"Need bigger storage for same-day loot."
Cave was maxed—no room left.
Meant building an outdoor warehouse...
I scouted the cave entrance with Dingo.
"Pick one."
Hide completely, or fortify as a shelter and block all access.
Had to decide fast and act.
15 days left, ticking down.
.
.
.
Lately, out and about, the vibe had shifted noticeably.
Mart entrance, bank inside, folks on benches—chatting away.
About espers and the zombie outbreak.
"All that talk's bullshit. Society? Crumbling overnight? Come on."
"You saw those espers on TV. Think they'd spout nonsense?"
"Scam, I tell ya. Broadcasters whining about ratings lately..."
"Look here, this Mityube vid."
"Told ya, all scams."
"Stuff you like is real, rest is fake?"
"That's not..."
Esper and zombie rumors had spread wide.
If bench-sitting retirees were buzzing, most Koreans knew by now.
But no real action yet.
Kids still holding parents' hands crossing streets, roads jammed with commuters.
Business as usual.
Heading to the hardware store, crossed paths mid-street.
"Hey, Sung-ho."
"Hyung."
Hyung-jun hyung stood outside with a young woman.
She adjusted her glasses, recognizing me.
"Ah... got it. You're the owner of that tteokbokki joint that delivers, right?"
"Yep."
Gym member, probably.
Delivered there sometimes—must've seen me then.
Gym and street food didn't mix well, but occasional eats kept things from exploding, or so they say.
She stared hard, plump lips parting slightly.
"Wow. No wonder I didn't recognize you—you've lost a ton of weight. Thought you were someone else."
"Slimmed down lately."
"Got a secret? Spill it."
Hmm.
Didn't look like she needed to lose any...
Ponytailed back, she radiated energy.
Coastal road, leggings, tank top, grinding workouts vibe.
I smiled awkwardly; Hyung-jun hyung pulled me in.
"Hold up, Soo-yeon. Hey, Sung-ho. What weapon for bashing zombies?"
"Weapon? Why hardware store..."
"Members said pick here? Like sledge or pipe?"
Bad intel somewhere.
As I started correcting, Soo-yeon poked his side.
"Coach, explain why first."
"Sung-ho knows the gist. Anyway..."
Hyung-jun hyung's rundown:
Gym members prepping for zombies formed a group.
Started at 10, now 5 due to family issues.
Mi-kyung I'd nudged was the youngest there.
Soo-yeon tagged along skeptically when he said weapons run—sounded fun.
"Five of us prepping, but weapons are the snag. Food, supplies—all agreed and stocked. Weapons... you know?"
"Roughly. But why here? Metal Plague hits early, right?"
"Oh yeah? Shreds all metal?"
"Game lore says so."
"Damn. Why didn't you tell me?"
No solid info floating.
Even esper communities were iffy.
Thought Metal Plague was common knowledge by now.
Soo-yeon jumped in.
"Zombie flicks use bats or clubs early on, no?"
Hyung shook his head.
"Weak-ass bats? Useless. Clubs same—feel solid? Snap after a few swings."
"Coach, you swung one?"
"Not saying I did."
"Bet you did."
"Anyway, no to bats and clubs."
"That's all they've got."
Hyung and Soo-yeon bickered over weapons.
Both wrong, my take.
Best early zombie weapons: reinforced plastic.
Like this.
"I'd go with this."
"Huh? What?"
"Which one?"
They huddled over my phone screen.
"Indian war club—from India, not Native American. Spikes on end for massive impact, full composite plastic—super tough."
"Oh... neat."
Hyung looked ready to devour the phone.
Soo-yeon pierced the screen with her eyes, thumbs-up.
"Polycarbonate-polypropylene composite. Won't break under normal hits."
Soo-yeon pointed at the ball end.
"Ball and spikes add heft. Looks solid."
"This it?"
"Hold on, check more. This?"
She tapped the American Smasher.
Composite plastic... bat.
Not bad.
Reviews called it unbreakable.
But spike-less had limits on zombies.
I advised grabbing stab-proof vests too.
She asked me.
"How'd you know this?"
"Pondering apocalypse survival led here. Metal no-go, wood too weak."
"Metal Plague... honestly, still skeptical. All metals crumbling instantly? Impossible."
"Mirroring the game so far."
"Survival Life? Played it?"
Probing if esper.
Heard a few at his gym were.
Shook my head.
"No playtime, but watched vids. On Mityube."
"Playthroughs?"
Hyung-jun hyung cut in.
I nodded casually.
"Early bits. Kimbap Lover clearing the tutorial."
"How's it start? Asked a member who played—said they died nonstop early, foggy recall."
"Zombie outbreak hits, few hours in. Opens with zombie horde pounding your door. You're behind a steel gate—feels safe."
"Yeah? Zombies can't rip steel."
"Horde pounds, gate crumbles. Most die there. Kimbap Lover jumps from a window, grabs indoor weapons."
"Ooh..."
"Gate collapse? Metal Plague."
Soo-yeon chimed; I confirmed.
"Yep. Kimbap Lover explained—makes sense. Holds shape pre-impact. Cars tank heavy loads, so spores hit, they crumple."
"Buildings?"
"Tall ones often start collapsed. Apartments, shops hold up."
"Brittle failure takes time... still, hard to buy. Korea turning like that."
Soo-yeon half-doubted.
Most folks probably same.
I shrugged.
"Me too. Prep anyway. Survive whenever it drops."
"Hm."
Stock answer left her conflicted.
Then a phone rang.
"Ugh... day off, and this."
She scowled at it, smiled at me.
"Call came—gotta go. Sung-ho? I'm Jo Soo-yeon. Next time, act like you know me?"
"Sure. Hey, Soo-yeon."
"Yeah?"
"Maybe switch glasses. Horn-rims."
"...Will do. Thanks."
She grinned, dashed across the street.
Red sports car—multi-million won easy—popped its top.
Whoo, loaded.
Hyung-jun hyung nodded at it.
"Soo-yeon's a doc. ER at the hospital up front."
"Impressive."
Doctor... exactly what I lacked: emergency treatment know-how.
Antibiotics, painkillers, anesthetics for wounds—dosages.
Not a medic; no clue.
Cram study had limits; wasn't a great student.
Shop opens, potions fix short-term...
Long-term? Need a doctor.
Decision made.
If she survives, hit her up later.
I'll lend a hand.
Hyung-jun hyung eyed the fading sports car, displeased.
"Bastard sends me Mi-kyung, now eyes another. Sung-ho, join our group?"
"Heard it's five now—risky?"
"How?"
"Kimbap Lover said: five-plus survivors draw zombies. Sense life signs, swarm."
"Sensors in their heads?"
"Hordes from all sides... adding me tips it."
"Bullshit game."
"Known for insane difficulty."
Hyung smacked his lips, defeated.
Dropping Kimbap Lover's name? Gold.
Use it more.