A New Toilet (For the Public Good)

...Holy crap, an Awakener applicant?

That bizarre tag attached to the little kid. So she really wasn't an ordinary brat after all.

But what genuinely floored me was the reward written underneath.

Automatic EXP income...?

Experience points. There was exactly one place in my system where this EXP would be spent.

Declaration of Territory — the very essence of my cheat-tier survival ability, the skill that made it impossible for zombies to so much as set foot near a designated building.

The problem was that designating a building consumed a number of 'tiles' proportional to its area, and my tile count was laughably short.

With a measly 30 tiles, I could barely squeeze in this tiny little inn, and that was pushing it.

I wanted to expand the territory, but no level-up conditions were listed anywhere, so I'd simply assumed I had no choice but to shovel points into it at the shop.

The exchange rate was a pathetic 10 EXP per 1,000 points.

In other words, reaching the next level would cost a staggering 5,000 points.

That was exactly why I'd been hoarding my points like a miser instead of spending them.

I needed to save up for the Declaration of Territory level-up too, and I had to keep an emergency fund on hand for buying urgent medical supplies in case things went sideways.

My current balance is 4,600 PT.

I'd almost been on the verge of dumping every last point into a level-up before long. That would've made me weep tears of actual blood.

But thanks to that little brat, all I had to do was keep her breathing under my roof for five days, and I'd score two free levels.

Frankly, the safe zone itself didn't need to be any bigger than the current inn.

Adding more rooms just meant more cleaning, and I had zero intention of expanding my land to build some large-scale faction. Loathing hassle was my core philosophy.

So why had I wanted to raise Declaration of Territory's level in the first place? For a separate reason entirely.

Because the level cap on all my Boss-exclusive special skills was bound to this very skill.

Minimum Respite, which conjured free food.

Outing Hour, which shrugged off zombie aggro and made scavenging runs possible.

And Super Host, my last-resort insurance that resurrected and recalled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me in an invulnerable state when I took fatal wounds.

Every one of them was a disgustingly overpowered cheat skill — but at level 1, their cooldowns were long and restrictions clung to them like barnacles.

Upgrading Declaration of Territory was essential if I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wanted to actually make use ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of them...

And it turned out I didn't need to shovel points at anything. All I had to do was keep one Awakened brat as a long-term guest and the whole thing resolved itself for free.

Rotate regular guests in and out on short stays to farm points. Press the Awakened ones into VIP long-term residency and harvest experience.

I felt like I finally understood the inn management philosophy the system was proposing.

Right now the place was all empty rooms, but the facilities unlockable with points down the road were enough to make anyone's eyes spin.

Hot showers and hot meals were the bare minimum. Wound treatment, all manner of stat buffs, even a secure equipment maintenance zone.

Once the facilities were in place, how could survivors not crawl in on their own hands and knees, begging?

The guests would escape that horrific hell outside and bask in paradise, while I reaped the rightful payment in points and experience.

Good for the sister, good for the brother-in-law — a perfect win-win, mutually beneficial arrangement.

Granted, that part was still down the road.

Anyway — if I no longer had to shovel points into experience, my entire plan changed.

I could pull the facility upgrades I'd been putting off forward, and I'd have breathing room to start filling my shopping cart with items from the point shop.

On top of that, I now had far more muscle than I'd expected to arm myself for the defensive battle that was inevitably coming.

Fortune had literally rolled up to my doorstep and walked in.

I was chuckling to myself in smug satisfaction when Yu Jin sidled up and asked,

"Why are you smiling like that, Boss? You looked like a total loan shark just now."

"It's a whole thing. You don't need to know."

"You got something from Sea earlier, didn't you? I bet that's why."

Ahh, that.

I rummaged in my pocket and placed the small, square something I'd received from Sea onto Yu Jin's open palm.

"Wha...?"

"Take it. It's a gift. They say it's strawberry flavored. Enjoy."

"H-how am I even supposed to use this...!"

Pretending not to know when you clearly know. Cute.

Out here in the apocalypse, a wound or an infection was as good as a death sentence.

If bacteria got in while you were going at yourself with dirty hands or improvised tools, you'd go straight to the grave.

In that sense, a condom like this was a genuinely precious item — it protected against infection not only during sex, but during solo explorations too.

"Want me to teach you how?"

When I whispered it right against her ear, Yu Jin's shoulders jolted.

"Hyeeek...!"

Her face flushed scarlet, and she flailed back, shoving me in the chest.

"Ugh, seriously! You're such a perv!"

She spun on her heel — but somewhere in those two seconds, the condom had already migrated into her pants pocket.

Her hand speed was honestly miraculous.

"If you're not gonna use it, hand it back."

"Wh-who said I wasn't gonna use ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it?! I'm just keeping it because throwing away something you were given would be wasteful, that's all!"

Yu Jin scurried off toward the counter like she was fleeing the scene of a crime.

The way her fingertips fidgeted with the pocket she'd stuffed the condom into looked extremely suspicious, but I decided to save further teasing for later.

Now that I didn't need to funnel points into experience, it was time to flex my precious 4,600 points.

I pulled up the inn's facility list. The most urgent item was restoring the water supply, but the required materials were out of reach for the moment.

So what upgrades could I afford with the points I had right now that would also be genuinely essential going forward?

As I scrolled down, one entry practically leapt off the screen.

This was it.

The toilet upgrade.

For an adult, being grateful for a squat-you-straddle toilet was one thing — but for a little kid like Sea, that yawning abyss of a hole with the dangling-feet fear factor was pure terror.

And no, I wasn't just trying to butter up the brat.

Upgraded facilities meant better comfort, which naturally piled up guest satisfaction, which translated directly into a higher Inn Rating.

Every time the rating climbed, bonuses like increased daily settlement multipliers and special buffs got unlocked. That was the structure.

Which meant there was absolutely no reason to hesitate.

I hollered straight down the inn's hallway.

"Everyone, come out here for a moment!"

Yu Jin and Yu Hyeon, plus the Taeseok-and-Sea pair, poked their heads out of their rooms.

Gathering the four of them, who'd come over without a clue why, I led the way to the shared bathroom at the end of the hall.

"Alright, from this moment on, I want everyone to empty everything out. Do it now."

"...I'm sorry?"

Han Taeseok made a baffled face at the sudden order to evacuate his bladder and bowels. Yu Jin stared at me like I'd lost my mind too.

"What are you talking about all of a sudden, Boss? Why does everyone need to use the toilet at once...?"

"The free-use count for today still has 2 uses left. If we don't use them now, they're gone. We're replacing the toilet."

Upgrading the bathroom facility reset the daily free-use count under the system.

Was I insane enough to throw away precious vouchers for nothing? No, ma'am. We were going to suck every drop of value out of this place down to the marrow.

"Okay, who wants to go first? Sea, you wanna go?"

The little kid squirmed like she had something to say.

"B-Boss-nim! Are we getting a new toilet?"

"Yep. Switching to one you sit on."

"Wowww! Awesome! Then can I use the new sit-down toilet after you change it? Pretty please?"

Her eyes were sparkling, but I shook my head firmly.

"Nope."

"Aww... Okay, fine."

There was, of course, a deep and meaningful reason for this.

The single greatest change that came with upgrading to a seated toilet: the water tank behind it.

In a situation where the water supply was cut off, this was precious water the system refilled daily — easily worth three or four large PET bottles.

Flush that life-giving water straight down as toilet water? Not a chance in hell.

Only after we'd milked the remaining free uses dry did I press the system button without a shred of regret.

The instant I hit 'YES,' white light bloomed and spread through the bathroom.

When the glow faded and revealed the interior, everyone's jaws dropped in unison.

"Whoa...!"

The uncomfortable toilet embedded in the floor was gone, replaced by a sleek, gleaming white seated toilet that practically sparkled.

I immediately popped open the ceramic lid on the tank behind it. Sure enough — water, full to the brim and crystal clear.

"Until the water supply is restored, this is our household water supply. So handle your pee in your own PET bottles, and let's ration this water as carefully as we can."

Nobody raised a single objection to that proposal.

"Right, water that clean is basically pristine drinking water."

Yu Jin marveled as she peered into the tank.

I turned to Han Taeseok.

"Why don't you use that water to get Sea cleaned up first?"

They weren't in quite as bad shape as the Yu siblings had been on arrival, but the two of them had clearly been through the wringer for days — there was a distinct smell of sweat and road dust hanging around them.

Han Taeseok, however, hemmed and hawed, dodging the suggestion.

"Oh? Ah, you mean me... Well, you see... Ah, my leg's still acting up too, so..."

Watching him sweat nervously through his excuse, Yu Jin took Sea's hand and pulled her along.

"Then Sea, want to wash up with me?"

"Yay! Yes please!"

"That's alright with you, Sea's father?"

"Ah, yes, yes! Please do. Thank you so much, Ms. Yu Jin...!"

Han Taeseok bowed to Yu Jin and me over and over.

"Let's go, Sea~"

"Okayyy!"

The bathroom door closed, and before long the sounds of water being scooped out with a basin and the little kid's laughter came filtering through.

Han Taeseok quietly settled himself into a corner of the hallway.

I didn't know whether he was Sea's biological father, but at least he didn't look like the kind of man who'd try anything untoward with a small child.

I returned to the counter and opened the shop window.

If we were putting someone up as a VIP, we ought to treat them properly.

The bathroom upgrade had cost 500 points, but I still had 4,100 left.

Even after setting aside the budget for fixing the water supply later and a reserve of points for emergency medicine, I had about 1,000 points of slack.

"Let's see now, what would our VIP guest like?"

Scrolling down the [Household/Clothing] tab, a whole line of adorable little items popped up in the children's section.

What kind of face would the little kid make if she came out of her bath and saw these?

Before I knew it, the corners of my mouth were creeping upward.

This was absolutely, definitely not because I was looking forward to seeing the brat's cute reaction.

This was, purely and strictly, the product of cold, hard, thorough capitalist calculation aimed at boosting the Inn Rating and the settlement multiplier. Nothing more.

Sure, whatever you say, me.

With deep satisfaction, I dropped the items into my shopping cart.