Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: D - 26
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“Ugh...”
These days, waking up with a groan alongside the morning had become my daily routine.
This morning was especially rough—the wounds from last night were throbbing.
Has the effect of the healing ointment already worn off?
“Status Window.”
The Weakened debuff had tanked all my stats across the board.
Still, it was way better than Exhaustion.
I could move my limbs, but every motion came with pain.
Looks like I'll have to give up on anything requiring strength for the time being.
I mulled over ways to avoid yesterday's fiasco while eating breakfast.
Raising my Insight stat is still the best bet.
A glance at the calendar showed 26 days until the zombie outbreak.
No items or gear until then.
“...No, wait—there was that one thing in the lore.”
An article about the first monster sighting somewhere in Jirisan Mountain...
From what I remembered, that incident was what made the government aware of monsters.
Most players wouldn't even know it existed, since it was buried in the background lore.
Survival Life was so unforgiving—you had to dig if you wanted the story.
Let's check the video first.
I'd scoured pretty much every corner of the game's lore back then, so I must have documented it.
“There it is.”
Past me was impressive.
Who records every nitpicky detail of a trash game like this?
“D-24 for the outbreak...”
Damn, only two days left?
This was pretty much the only shot at loot before zombies hit.
“It's random, but items do drop—so I have to get it.”
Something with Insight would be ideal.
Newbies to Survival Life usually think like this:
—Monsters? Just pump Strength and Agility and smash 'em like pots, right?
Nope.
Those players didn't last long before their characters got deleted.
Too many monsters, not enough counters.
“The title's Survival Life, not Monster Hunter.”
It's about running, enduring—seeing how long you last.
For that, Insight beats Strength or Agility any day.
Especially early game.
“Spot 'em first and bail—that's key.”
Right now, I'm grinding toward the level 10 shop unlock.
Skipping ahead in the video, I heard my past self getting annoyed.
Nice job, you little mutt.
Thanks to that, I got the article's details.
The setup was some outlet breaking the embargo: a classic orc corpse sprawled out, with an axe as evidence nearby.
“Killing an orc might drop a skill.”
Survival Thirst.
It wasn't an exaggeration to call it an orc racial trait.
Get wounded or cornered, and your stamina and HP regen skyrocket.
Combat Will and Insight go up too, making ambushes way harder.
“Survival Thirst would be perfect.”
Orcs with that skill sure as hell aren't trash mobs.
Monsters with superhuman strength and tenacious vitality.
They hunch over, but straighten up and they're over 2 meters tall.
And they wield weapons.
Veterans would sic orcs on promising newbies who'd cleared the tutorial.
If they somehow won, they'd recruit—rolling the dice on potential.
“Everyone quit anyway, so no choice.”
It was selection: support only the ones with real promise.
Even then, most rage-quit over the game's brutality.
Quitters without grit.
Anyway, to score loot, I gotta take down a jacked 2-meter gorilla.
One loaded with killer intent and armed to the teeth.
Sounds tough, but...
“I can do this.”
Too bad about the ordered stab-proof suit and tactical boots—probably won't need 'em.
This ain't a post-apoc wasteland; it's modern Korea, fully intact.
Time to show you Korean hospitality, orc.
Nah, not feeding you kimchi.
...
I started prepping for orc hunting.
Paused the mortar construction for now.
One-shot's ideal, but circumstances suck.
I tidied the hideout roughly, ordered the cave gate, and pondered my approach.
“Toss a bomb maybe.”
Grind flint to powder, mix with oil and solvents, light it up.
Thinking about it now...
“It's a Molotov.”
Technically not, since it used empty cans.
Anyway, the flint powder packed a punch.
It burned fierce even after killing monsters—hard to put out.
Gonna need a fire extinguisher.
“Gasoline, solvents, sugar, resin...”
Recalling the recipe reminded me of chucking them at ogres for fun.
They'd rampage, torching everything, and I'd bail...
“Hold up—that'd start a fire.”
My brain played an announcer wanted-posting an arsonist for burning 10 hectares.
Plus, Jirisan's crawling with hikers—high risk of getting spotted.
Weather in two days?
“...Rain.”
Hikers won't be an issue.
Orc sighted near Jungsun-ri Campground.
Not peak monsoon, but mountains get hammered anyway.
Hundreds of mm forecast.
Flint bombs won't snuff out in a little rain.
Problem's me, slogging through a downpour scavenging the mountain.
“Gotta do it.”
Rest these two days, then frontload the suffering.
I tried standing and nearly screamed.
Even leaning on the armrest hurt like hell.
Forget hunting orcs—I'd get hunted.
“Should I bail?”
That complicates things.
Orc gets taken out by cops, government IDs it.
Then?
Thousands of Awakened gain credibility.
Meteor spreads spores, people turn zombie, civilization crumbles—the public faces it head-on.
No chaos? That'd be weird.
“Black-suit agents'll swarm me by the truckload.”
Government can't contain the crisis, but tracking me? Easy.
“Can't let that happen.”
Bottom line: orc must die by my hand.
And erase every trace.
“Rest up these two days...”
Not really resting, though.
Saving useful Mityube vids and ordering essentials.
Ate enough, commissioned a lathe from a local workshop.
Post-apoc, gotta craft from forest wood, right?
“Tons of woodworking tools too.”
Shopping spree vibes hit.
Everything looked good, but budget said pick one by one.
Mid-shop, bank called.
“Ah... loan approved? Yes, got it. Yeah, deposit today... Lucky. Thanks.”
Phew...
Leaned back in the chair.
Loan greenlit—funds loosened up.
More preps possible now.
What do I need to not die in Korean forests?
Recalled yesterday's Bone Creeper.
Tough foe normally.
But solid prep? Maybe no injuries.
“Even just a fence...”
Barbed wire and fence for double defense—Bone Creeper can't climb.
It'd wreck the line, sure.
But saves my neck—worth it.
“Infrared sensor too?”
Cheap battery ones everywhere.
Motion alarm for monster raids.
“Focus, Kang Sung-ho.”
Slapped my cheeks, ordered sensors and batteries.
Binoculars too.
Forest limits sight, but far views help.
“Far sight... oh, drones.”
Forgot about those.
So many good ones now.
Could scout Owl Bear valley and ocean easy.
Picked a solid drone, checked reviews, ordered.
“Four should do.”
By evening, cart was full.
Cabin fever, so hit the nearby mart for a walk-and-shop.
Stocked essentials? Delivery's easier.
Pharmacy for first aid too.
Limped down to the garage, fired up the Tamus.
Driving was manageable.
“Ow.”
Except arm pain on turns.
...
“Huh?”
“Uncle?”
Ran into Mi-kyung at the grocery mart.
Is this girl right in the head?
Spam cans everywhere?
Basically advertising zombie prep to anyone in the know.
Slim chance here, but I showed up.
Canned goods shatter under Metal Plague anyway.
Hoard thousands, and tutorial starts—contents spill everywhere.
She blinked, then beamed at me.
“I've been losing weight lately... hehe.”
Cute excuse, but this sloppy? Surviving apocalypse?
Wait, not spam—luncheon meat.
Why buy that tasteless stuff?
Thoughts stopped there.
Not time to judge her situation.
Shop quick, home, rest.
Nodded at Mi-kyung to pass— she pointed at my sleeve.
“Uncle, long sleeves? It's hot out.”
“Yeah, well. Don't mind the heat.”
Actually hiding wounds.
She tilted her head, then fiddled with my sleeve.
“Um... can I ask you something? Got a sec?”
Hesitant tone.
Checked my watch, nodded.
Parked the cart, headed to the cafe next door.
Ordered coffee; she finally spoke.
“Uncle, you know about it? The zombie apocalypse coming?”
Nobody knows better than me, but play dumb.
She thinks I'm just a snack bar owner.
“Oh, that. Saw it online. Meme, right? Just them joking around.”
“Nuh-uh. It's real. I can see the status window with abilities, and everyone's got unique traits...”
Faked a blank stare.
“...You too, Mi-kyung?”
She glanced around, nodded vigorously.
“Sta—status window. Like this, shows my stats. Abilities too...”
“That thing you mentioned before.”
“Yeah...”
Wonder what her trait is.
Doesn't seem gamer-y, but she played that trash game?
“Stats like game ones? Strength, Agility?”
“Yep. Health, Strength, Agility, Dexterity, Insight.”
“Thousands seeing that? Wild.”
“I checked—traits vary. Mine's...”
“Yours?”
Lips moved, but no words.
Even innocents get instincts: don't spill.
“S-sorry... can't say...”
“Fine. So, what's your point?”
“That... tow truck guy from the other day...”
“Yeah.”
“You think he's okay? Your take?”
“Asking me...? Oh. He got a status window too?”
“Seems like.”
“Everyone but me.”
My bitter look hit; she pitied me.
Damn, I'm a good actor.
“Anyway, he seems sketchy to me.”
“Really?”
“I'm no saint, but I got basic sense. He's off. Remember? Blasting music loud in front of my shop's students.”
“That happened?”
Eyes widened.
Laid it out straight, no exaggeration.
“Winter, I think? Blocked the road with illegal modded headlights, flashing like mad... Told him to quit, he muttered to himself and left. Says it all about character.”
“Ah...”
“Could park nice, not inconvenience folks? Nah, always crooked, way from walls—like scraping passersby.”
She bought it wholesale.
Talks through, sorta.
“Since you trust me—don't snitch to him?”
Joking; she freaked, waved hands.
“No way... I don't blab...”
“Good. If doomsday hits like they say, can't trust randos.”
“I... dunno. Sudden chaos, apocalypse talk... doesn't click.”
“But not sitting idle—hence the spam haul?”
Mentioned it; cheeks flushed.
Thinks I mistook luncheon meat for spam.
Split for the mart.
I went wistful.
“Folks like me are screwed. Get the gist, but can't act. Try stuff, still end up zombie chow.”
“...”
“Jealous of you, Mi-kyung. At least you can survive.”
“S-sorry...”
“Nah, nothing to apologize for.”
Don't bully too hard; she's got an aunt too—mixed feelings.
Popped the lid, chugged coffee.
Stood, offered hand.
“Fate or whatever... if we both live, help each other?”
“Ah, sure!”
Women's hands this soft? Forgot, years solo.
One tip:
“Dunno if you know, but hoarding cans? Useless. Metal Plague wrecks 'em, per survivor forums. Survival Life basic lore.”
“Uh... Metal Plague? What's that?”
“Metal shatters fine. Famous in communities.”
Her pale face went paler.
Thought cans = food prep done.
“Th-then what?”
“MREs, emergency rations. Non-metal.”
“Th-thanks.”
Bowed slightly, back to mart.
“I'll toss a tip...”
But she's on her own ultimately.
Whatever trait, she'll manage.
Luncheon meat mountain looked extra lonely.
End of D - 26