Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Survival Preparation
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< Survival Preparation >
Survival Life.
A VR apocalypse survival game whose service ended a few months ago.
People turn into zombies, all sorts of monsters appear to threaten the survivors.
In the midst of that, the Metal Plague swept through, causing all metals to crumble.
Survivors have to secure food and water while avoiding monster threats and find a safe zone.
But even safe zones weren't truly safe.
Because monsters could instinctively locate places where survivors gathered.
...Anyway, Survival Life was full of bizarre settings designed to frustrate players.
Veterans like me had learned them all the hard way, dying countless times.
And now that was becoming reality?
I denied the information I'd seen for a while.
Looking outside, a yellow van was driving by with kids aboard.
A child holding their mom's hand was hopping along happily.
Students heading home from school were chattering noisily.
It was the same peaceful world as always.
I couldn't believe that this world I knew was about to collapse all at once.
"Let me check again."
I summoned the Status Window and the dimension gate to confirm.
Then I watched the news on Mityube from earlier.
The speculation that the end was coming solidified into certainty.
So, exactly when would the apocalypse hit?
After checking the video, I furrowed my brow.
"July 20th... Damn. That's a month from now."
Today was June 18th...
In just a month and two days, that peaceful street would turn into a demon realm.
Over the next month, various ominous signs would appear.
Monsters that shouldn't exist on Earth would pop out, madmen would attack people.
Fragments of a meteor called Silver Spore would rain into Earth's orbit, causing all sorts of bizarre phenomena.
Gas lines would rupture, power grids would fail.
And the final blow: the Metal Plague would spread worldwide, and human civilization would crumble miserably.
Only a tiny fraction of people would survive that catastrophe.
Honestly, I wasn't even sure I wouldn't turn into a zombie myself.
"If I turn into a zombie, that's that, I guess."
For now, since I have the Status Window, I probably won't turn, right?
I considered turning on a stream to look for the veterans I used to play with.
No, no...
In an apocalypse, the most dangerous thing is revealing yourself.
Unless you have overwhelming power, exposing your existence is no different from suicide.
It happened in the early days of Survival Life too.
Players who barely cleared the tutorial would mercilessly attack anyone with unusual items.
Die? Just redo the tutorial.
If you luck out and snag an item, jackpot.
I had to abandon any expectations that the veterans I was close to in-game would be friendly in reality too.
"They probably know better anyway..."
At that thought, I realized something crucial.
I was the one who played Survival Life to the very end!
Even most people didn't have that information.
I scoured Mityube and video sites for Survival Life info.
"Nothing. Zilch."
Not even if I scrubbed my eyes looking.
The portal sites had some vague info at best.
No backstory at all, mostly early tutorial guides.
It was so hard that everyone quit after grinding just the tutorial.
A slow thrill started building.
No one else knows.
Only I know the info on Survival Life.
I have over 3 terabytes of footage.
Expansion packs, balance patches, stealth patches—I checked them all with viewers.
Back then, I was so immersed in Survival Life that even that was fun.
"Who knew it'd come in handy now..."
Come to think of it, the devs must know even more than me?
I was curious about who they were, but pondering wouldn't yield answers.
What matters now...
"Is preparing in advance."
Only those who prepare for the end will survive.
And that has to be me.
Slightly excited, I let out a long breath.
"Calm down, calm..."
I settled my mind and thought about what I needed to do.
Weapons, food, tools, medicine—everything came to mind.
I had to gather them before the apocalypse hit.
How? With money.
"The shop hasn't opened yet, huh..."
From memory, the shop opens at level 10.
Maybe it won't open at all.
"How much money do I have..."
Checking my account: 73 million won.
Money I'd scrimped and saved over three years running the snack bar.
Buy a ton of necessities with this and stockpile here?
"Raiders would be a problem."
Isn't there a safer place?
Somewhere no one knows about, only I can access.
I stared at the Status Window.
That forest connected by the dimension gate—couldn't it serve as a warehouse?
It's definitely another world, so safe from the Metal Plague.
"There are monsters, though..."
Fight, kill them, and make it my forest?
With peaceful worlds gone, no reason to hold back on that forest.
I should dive in and pioneer it aggressively.
Animals for hunting means food won't be an issue if done right, and I heard stream water, so hydration's fine.
If I can drive out the monsters, all that becomes mine.
"Perfect."
I steeled myself and opened the dimension gate.
Breathing the cold air, I pondered what I'd need to live in this forest.
Tent... weapons... food... water...
Lots of stuff.
Especially since the Metal Plague would crumble all metals worldwide, stockpiling metal tools beforehand was key.
Pickaxes, shovels, saws, that sort.
"Need weapons too."
Order from overseas forges?
If the Metal Plague hits the forest too, it's all for naught.
Then it'd be truly primitive living.
Prepare as much as possible for now.
"Gotta get a loan on this building."
73 million wasn't enough for everything.
Especially power supply.
I need to keep reviewing those 3 terabytes of guides, so where to get electricity?
At minimum, charge my smartphone.
"Solar generators sound good."
Or stock diesel for a small generator.
Overseas folks make personal hydro generators—maybe learn that?
Thoughts spiraled.
One thing's clear: I need to organize.
I pulled out a notebook and listed supplies.
What do I need to protect myself and live in that forest?
While writing, I browsed communities on the side.
They were warzones arguing over who has a Status Window.
They're talking about Survival Life.
It was an ultra-niche game, but thousands had at least done the tutorial.
VR cafes are a thing these days.
It was so tough most quit after the tutorial.
This troll pulling aggro is probably one of them.
No one who truly played Survival Life would act like this.
They'd quietly prepare for the end, like me.
Irritated by the nonstop aggro, someone landed a solid hit.
"Hold up..."
Am I in danger too?
If the Survival Life devs knew about all this, they definitely know about me.
Men in black suits could knock any second.
"Calm down, calm..."
I have the dimension gate as a last bastion.
They might have it too, but then they wouldn't need to catch me.
"Need minimal gear."
Enough equipment and food to last days if I bolt to the forest suddenly.
I opened the dimension gate to toss in a pack of bottled water from home, then paused.
"Goblins are weaklings, but..."
If they find water and food, I could be in trouble.
Who knows if they'll wait there.
Escape black suits just to get jumped by goblins? Great.
Storing food and gear comes after securing the safe zone.
"Time for a survival pack."
I grabbed a backpack and stuffed it with ramen and spam.
Not healthy, but fills the stomach, so fine.
The pack included a knife, flashlight, lighter, wet wipes, locker, gloves, bandages, and candy.
Added my fishing tent bag too—pretty solid loadout.
"In a pinch, chuck the bag and dive in."
Test run: I could erase traces in seconds.
Far as black suits breaking down the door, bolt immediately.
They won't drag me out in public.
Too many eyes...
For now, move cautiously.
I stayed up till dawn monitoring communities and making lists.
Looks like quite a few got Status Windows.
Even unrelated communities mention it occasionally.
Normals mostly brushed it off coldly.
Some survivalist forums assumed sales pitch and hurled abuse.
Makes sense—stirring panic always traces back to hawking crap.
To them, it's just fearmongering to sell junk.
"Not my problem..."
Just quietly prep for the end alone.
Fortunate or not, no family ties.
Got relatives, but cut contact ages ago.
Being footloose feels this good now.
I just need to survive.
Me alone.
Next day, I rushed to my main bank for a loan.
Collateral: my rundown two-story building.
No other debts, decent credit—the rep whispered approval within a week.
Then asked,
"What're you using the loan for?"
"Remodeling the shop. It's old."
"Ah... Won't be able to operate for a bit then. Too bad."
Turned out this rep ate my kimbap and tteokbokki via their kids.
Can't operate for a while? True enough.
Not for remodeling, though.
I returned to the shop with my survival pack.
Shutter down despite business hours.
No point running a snack bar with apocalypse looming.
Loan money? Whatever I make is whatever.
Standing in front, I scanned around.
Same peaceful world as always.
Am I overreacting alone?
What if nothing happens in a month?
"Then tough it out 2-3 years."
Sell off purchases secondhand, recoup some.
First, tidy home, then afternoon: trade for hunting bow.
Local flea market had a 60-pound bow up.
Seller: bought for hunting season instead of air rifle, but too tricky.
That'll handle goblins easy.
Heading up to the second floor, someone emerged from the adjacent salon.
Hairdresser girl in shorts and white shirt.
She stretched arms and legs wide.
"Huuuuh."
Shirt rode up, flashing white belly.
No complaints here.
Averted eyes, pretending not to see, heading up—but she spotted me.
"Oh. Uncle, no business today?"
"Yeah, uh. Remodeling the shop."
"Whoa, must've made bank."
"Not that much."
Awkward smile, climbing stairs—her voice from behind.
"By the way..."
Damn, already up on second floor.
Probably wondering when tteokbokki next.
Mind my business.
< Survival Preparation > End