Infinite Food and Infinite Power

The rooftop of the Magic Tower had suddenly transformed into an unexpected labor camp. We were stacking all sorts of mismatched pots and plastic containers scavenged from who-knows-where, trying to bring some order to the chaos.

While my disciples hauled things around, cleaned up, and chased off bugs, I kept the distiller running nonstop, churning out more of the rapid growth solution.

"Okay, let's put that one over here."

Thanks to Sejin rolling up her sleeves and diving right in, cleaning up the rooftop didn't take long at all. And so, our little vegetable garden was complete.

We already had plenty of food. Even without electricity yet, we had all the water we could want, clean clothes to wear, and a safe place to sleep. Still, that bizarre garden patch somehow gave off a distinctly apocalyptic vibe. The nuclear-war kind of apocalyptic.

"It seriously looks like eating that would give you cancer."

In the trash-bin-like beds filled with some unidentified murky liquid, grotesque vegetables began growing at insane speeds.

But whether they ended up shaped like a thumbs-up tomato or a chicken-drumstick pepper, they all tasted fantastic. They were on a completely different level from the vegetables that had been sitting frozen in the icebox for days.

The freshness was like one of those juice commercial taglines—straight from the field to your mouth. Though they're still just vegetables, I guess...

Sejin had been full of suspicion earlier, saying she'd try them while eyeing the plants like they might bite her back. But after one bite of the tomato, her face lit up and she gave a big thumbs-up.

From beans to eggplants, cabbages to peppers. Dayeon grinned as she checked the massive pile of seeds stacked beside them.

"So the food problem is pretty much solved now, right?"

If we wanted processed food, we could have it. If we wanted fresh vegetables, we could have those too.

"Oh, and the generator upgrade design is almost finished too."

It looked like we'd soon be able to generate our own electricity. Unit 1 had grabbed a few books from the city library on the way back and tossed them over. Maybe those had helped.

"We just need a way to continuously supply fire magic. You said you'd take care of that part, right, Master...?"

I already had an idea for stably running the generator. After all, magitech wasn't just about golems.

Plenty of magic slots left. Nice.

It was a machine that would automatically and continuously cast a spell through a rune engraved with a specific magic. In other words, if we paired this with a generator, we could theoretically convert Mana Cores into electricity.

Lightning was an inherently unstable element, so handling it with ordinary human technology was apparently a huge pain. No matter how advanced the magic, it was basically like trying to charge a battery with lightning bolts.

The idea of using the Free Record Archive to learn technology from other worlds had crossed my mind. But the people living in worlds with highly developed magic apparently didn't get the appeal ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of science and technology at all.

Even if you showed them airplanes flying around or monomolecular blades slicing through metal, they'd just go, "Huh? Can't you do all that with magic anyway?"

The current office worker living in an SF-level tech world had warned me not to trust the Free Record Archive on this particular subject. Honestly, I would've loved to learn it. Nanometer this, cutting-edge semiconductor equipment that—it all sounded amazing.

But in a zombie apocalypse where we couldn't even properly use 21st-century technology, there wasn't much I could do.

Whatever. Let's just build the generator first.

Even if we made a generator, there was no internet, so the fun web-surfing sessions from before the apocalypse would be impossible. Still, we wouldn't have to rely on Mana Stone lights, battery-powered flashlights, or lamps at night anymore.

We could use refrigerators, vacuums, fans—all those fruits of modern civilization. Phones and computers were still useful even without the internet.

"It's been a while since I had a proper project."

Honestly, it had only been a day or two. I grabbed some Mana-infused Iron that was lying around, shaped a basic frame, then spread out a magic circle like when I made golems and engraved a fire-element rune.

The difference from a golem was that there were no runes for ego or complex mana manipulation inside the circle. As a result, the magic circle was extremely simple. It took in mana from a Mana Core and used it to create fire. That was it.

The most important part of this simple process was recording how I used magic inside the circle. Like creating an Excel macro.

If I recorded the process of casting the spell and the flow of mana it created, the completed Basic Mana Engine would perfectly replicate all the mana manipulation I performed.

"Keep the flame magic uniform. Follow the surrounding flow..."

In other words, if I recorded a very stable way of using magic, this thing would produce fire magic the same way.

"Here. Watch and copy this."

When I created a tiny flame at my fingertip, a pure white pattern of light began to etch itself along the edge of the magic circle like a needle carving music into a record. The pattern grew darker or lighter depending on the flow of the fire element, but overall it was extremely stable.

Good. Finally, I stabilized the circle like I did when creating golems, inserted a Mana Core, and gently closed the core. A Basic Mana Engine the size of a pencil case, looking like something straight out of steampunk, was complete.

Let's see if it works properly.

I filled a small cartridge that would act as a battery with Mana Cores. The golems had been catching bugs while cleaning up spores lately, so Mana Cores were practically being handed out like candy. We had plenty to spare these days.

After checking the cartridge glowing full of mana light, I pulled the lever. A tongue of flame shot up from the silver nozzle sticking out of the box, like a torch.

It was magical fire that wouldn't easily go out even if you blew on it or poured water over it.

Since we'd need the golems' help to gather the other materials, we decided to wait a bit. A message arrived from Taeho.

Weird?

?

I remembered an old game like that. One where you tried to survive as long as possible in an underground bunker in a ruined world. This felt exactly like... a bomb ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shelter. Maybe there was some hidden military facility inside?

I was curious. It'd be nice if there were living people inside. Or even high-grade resources. But confirming that would have to wait for the next trip. For now, I needed to ask him to bring back some generator materials.

A little more time passed after that. Soon I could see the golems returning. Unit 1 was carrying an armful of Mana Cores on his back. Unit 2 was dragging an entire car behind her with ropes like some kind of strength performance. And Unit 3 was balancing a generator on her head.

"I brought a ton of tools earlier."

When Unit 2 opened the toolbox she'd picked up before and all sorts of tools spilled out—from screwdrivers to hacksaws to hammers—my disciples and their mass-produced golems each grabbed one and headed down to the first floor to start working.

After a couple hours of clanging and banging that filled the air with the smell of metal, a machine connected to batteries and engines was installed in one corner of the first-floor lobby. Long wires ran all the way up the stairwell.

"It's done."

"Let's turn it on right awa—wait, no. First, the Silent Curtain."

I wrapped the area where the generator was installed with the Silent Curtain. One of the golems went down and pulled the lever on the flame device. With a low hum, the power strips plugged into the outlets lit up.

"Whoa!"

"It's been so hot. Can I turn on the fan? Is that okay?"

"I don't know, but if Master likes it then I like it too!"

While everyone cheered, I was carefully watching the cartridge section of my lighter that supplied output to the generator's cylinder.

Hmm. The Mana Core consumption wasn't as high as I'd expected. Most of it was just repurposed parts from the original generator anyway. The only magical part in this machine was the one lighter. So we could use it freely without worry.

Time to go wild with the phones and fans.

As expected, modern technology really was the best. With just a little bit of magic added, things could run pretty decently even in the middle of this zombie wasteland.

Near-infinite food and near-infinite electricity. Honestly, even if there were more survivors in the southern part of Gyeonggi Province, even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if the southern survivor groups were incredibly strong and stable... weren't we living the best lives?

I had that thought for a brief moment. But at the time, I didn't know.

That somewhere out there, someone was living alone in the apocalypse making web novels about hiding something. That somewhere out there, there were people driving tanks around.