Shark Attack Advisory

It had been a year since the world ended.

Adult clothes were easy enough — you just rummaged through the ruins and picked out whatever was still intact. Kids' clothes, though, were a trickier matter.

For one thing, finding the right size was hard, and dressing a child in clothes that had been lying around collecting who-knew-what invited trouble from dust and bacteria.

Plenty of cases had escalated into full-blown complications, too.

Underwear especially was non-negotiable, so I decided to start with that.

That worked out to 100 points a piece, which was a perfectly reasonable price. Straight into the cart it went.

The problem was everything that went over it. I browsed through the cute little outfits on display, and the pricing was positively shameless.

Are these lunatics seriously asking me to burn 3,000 points on a single t-shirt?

A toilet upgrade cost 500 points, and vitamins ran 1,000. Sure, the clothes were undeniably cute — but insane as I was, I wasn't about to slam that kind of money down for a scrap of fabric.

Once I dropped my price ceiling far enough, something vaguely affordable finally appeared.

The design was bland to the point of Pyongyang-naengmyeon austerity, and the material looked cheap even at a glance — but it would do the job a shirt was supposed to do.

It's not like I'm sending her to a school recital. Who cares about cute? Honestly, even this is overpriced. I'm just gritting my teeth and paying up.

Shirt and bottoms together blew well past 700 points, after all.

Then a good idea struck me. If I was going to buy cheap anyway, I might as well apply a search filter.

[Sort by: Price Low to High (Cheapest First)]

And at the very top of the results, one gloriously eye-catching thumbnail seized my attention.

THIS is the cheapest one?

It was far too flamboyant and conspicuously striking to belong in this budget bin.

It was a shark onesie — a full-body pajama suit that swallowed the wearer up like an oversized mascot costume.

A darling little dorsal fin sprouting from the head, jagged felt teeth lining the hood's edge, a stubby tail drooping limply behind.

One of those full-body plush pajamas that had once enjoyed a cult following.

"Is it cheap because they're dumping last season's stock?"

Curious, I tapped into the detailed description — and the moment I did,

"......"

A carnival of familiar, ominous Simplified Chinese characters filled the entire window.

The boundless grandeur of the Mainland punched clean through the system interface.

The quality of the product itself, though, actually looked pretty decent.

And a suit this adorable for a mere 300 points?

That was basically free. As if in a trance, I mashed the purchase button.

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"Oh, that's actually convenient."

I'd been wondering what would happen if it didn't fit, but the system thoughtfully auto-tailored it for me.

Then, a red warning window popped up.

"......"

There it is. Of course there is.

Even so, getting that adorable pajama set for 600 points total was an outright steal.

"YES! Disinfect it right now!"

If anything, this was a blessing. The system promised a complete purification, so there'd be no issues at all.

With a flash of light, the clothes dropped onto the counter with a soft thump.

Heart fluttering with anticipation, I picked up the onesie and spread it wide open.

"......"

My brain flatlined.

When the human brain is confronted with a scene that shatters its expectations beyond recognition, it lags before it can even process what's happening.

That was exactly the state Yu Jin's brain had been in when she saw the bleach I'd produced at the supermarket a few days ago.

The shark staring back at me was, in a word, devastating.

The enormous googly eyes stitched onto the hood radiated pure, unfiltered harmlessness.

Not a single sharp shark tooth in sight, and the fluttering fins somehow looked deficient.

Far from an apex predator of the deep, this was the mug of a frog-faced shark that had taken a club to the head and lost its soul.

"......I've been had."

I ached for a refund button, but the system, the heartless bastard, did not support returns.

Well... it's still better than what she's wearing now, I guess.

The toxic chemicals were definitely gone, so at least I didn't have to worry about her skin. The visuals were a bit on the dopey side, but as a stopgap outfit it'd serve fine.

Gathering up the clothes, I headed for the room.

"Yu Jin, are they dry? Can I come in?"

"Hold on! Yep, come on in."

When I opened the door, thick cotton padding lay spread across the floor like a mattress, and Saea had wrapped herself head to toe in the stripped-off duvet cover, wearing it as a makeshift garment.

"I brought new clothes and underwear. Get into these for now."

"Whoa......"

As I handed over the bundle of brand-new fabric, Saea's eyes went round.

"Call me when you're dressed."

I was about to step out when Yu Jin, draped in the duvet cover herself, shot me a sideways glance and stuck out her lip.

"......Boss, where's mine?"

"Your clothes? You washed them a few days ago, didn't you? That should do."

"Are you kidding? I just showered too! Do you have any idea how much I've sweated these past few days?"

Fair enough — she'd earned it. We only managed to bring Saea in as smoothly as we did thanks to her cooperation.

"You can just grab whatever from my pile and we'll share."

"Th-then at least bring it to me......"

Her eyes darted away. God, what a hassle she is.

Seriously, who's supposed to be the boss here?

I went to my room and threw her my freshly laundered t-shirt, sweatpants, and a pair of my treasured boxer briefs.

"Those are my precious undies, so don't get anything weird on them. Handle with care."

"What is wrong with you!"

I snickered and headed back toward the counter.

A short while later, a burst of Yu Jin's cackling laughter rang out from the back, and the door clicked open.

"Boss, you have to come see this right now. I'm losing my mind."

"Why? What's the problem?"

The moment I stepped into the room —

"......Huh?"

An involuntary gasp escaped my lips.

The outfit had looked pathetic on its own, but the moment Saea put it on, the entire atmosphere transformed.

Beneath the roomy sky-blue hood, Saea's brown eyes gleamed under that utterly derpy shark stare.

Yu Jin urged her on.

"Saea, sweetie, show him. That thing. Do the thing."

"You... you really want me to, unnie?"

"The Boss is gonna love it. Come on, hurry!"

Saea fidgeted with her sleeve, then wiggled her fingers and cautiously stretched both hands out into the air.

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"Rawr...... no wait, ROOOAR?"

Flushing to the ears, she struck a menacing pose as if she were a genuinely terrifying shark — then, embarrassed by her own attempt, quickly broke into an awkward smile.

"Hehe...... so, how is it?"

Yu Jin, watching from the side, erupted into a fuss.

"Insane...... is she not the cutest thing you've ever seen?"

"......Yeah, she's pretty cute."

At that, the kid sprang up and charged straight at me. Something like a ball of cotton smooshed against my legs.

"Yay! Thank you, Boss! I love it SO much!"

I really had no idea how many times I'd been thanked lately. Honestly, I still hadn't gotten used to it.

I'd spent the past year living in a world where there was precious little to be thankful for.

I cleared my throat and, with an awkward hand, patted the top of the dopey shark's head.

"......Don't mention it. Clothes make the man, as they say — good thing they make you look almost human."

"I'm a shark!"

"Right, right, Mr. Terrifying Shark. Now let go of my legs, you're gonna trip me."

Just then, a golden status window flickered to life.

......TWENTY EXP?!

My eyes snapped wide open. It wasn't the points that caught my attention — it was the experience.

Technically it amounted to pulling forward just two days' worth of gain, but the timing couldn't have been more perfect.

The remaining cooldown on Outing Hour was three days.

My plan was to head out right on schedule for a hardware store expedition, to strip it of plumbing parts, linoleum, and wallpaper.

Reaching Declaration of Territory Lv.2 had originally been five days out.

But if I swallowed those 20 EXP right now, I could awaken Level 2 on exactly the day the Outing skill's cooldown came back — three days from now.

And venturing out with the Level 1 skill versus going out with an upgraded Level 2 skill were two very different propositions.

This EXP is a must-take. Non-negotiable.

Which meant I had to serve up that 'perfect dinner,' exactly as the conditions demanded.

I'd been planning to slap together some canned goods the girls had scavenged, maybe hand-friedhardtack in pork lard and call it a day......

Look, in an apocalypse, even that much would count as a feast worth weeping over.

But this would squeeze out that satisfaction rating far more reliably.

And the quest pays out 500 points anyway, so it all comes right back, doesn't it?

There was no reason to be stingy.

I patted the little one's head.

"Saea, go show off to your dad. Tell him you've become a magnificent shark."

"Okay! I'm gonna go show Daddy!"

Saea scampered out of the room, her felt tail waggling behind her.

Through the corridor drifted the kid's exhilarated voice — "Daddy! I'm a shark, ROOOAR!" — followed by Han Taeseok's laughter.

The door shut, and Yu Jin and I were suddenly alone in the room.

"Yu Jin, don't go far on the scavenging run today. Just do a light loop nearby."

Despite having hauled back the duvets earlier, I'd originally planned to run the afternoon farming shift at full throttle — but plans had changed.

"Seriously? What's gotten into you, Evil Boss? Wait, we already stripped the area clean last time, didn't we?"

"Stripped it of food, sure. You didn't see any houses with yards? Soy sauce fermentation pots, that kind of thing?"

"Fermentation pots? No idea. There was nothing but weeds growing everywhere."

"I'd bet good points those 'weeds' are wild perilla. Give them a sniff — if they smell like sesame leaves, yank them out roots and all."

I gave Yu Jin a quick rundown.

This neighborhood was a jumble of old shantytowns and standalone houses where redevelopment had ground to a halt.

Back before the world ended, the elderly residents used ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to lay out styrofoam boxes in every cramped yard and vacant alley corner, tending little kitchen gardens.

Wild perilla in particular — with its absurdly aggressive reproduction — needed no tending at all. Left alone, it just dropped its own seeds and formed sprawling colonies like any common weed.

The fermentation pots were the same story. Canned goods and instant ramen would've been stripped clean in the early days of the apocalypse, but the heavy clay pots full of fermented soybean and chili paste? Nobody had the strength or the patience to haul those out.

And since doenjang and gochujang are essentially blocks of salt, even after a year of neglect you could just skim the mold off the top and find the contents perfectly fine underneath.

As Yu Jin listened quietly, her eyes began to sparkle.

"......Soybean paste and gochujang, and sesame leaves too?"

"Why?"

"Don't tell me I can expect something delicious for dinner tonight! We've got a guest, so you're cooking something special, aren't you!"

"Depends on what you bring back."

"Then I'll strip the place bare right now, so you wait right there!"

The moment the bait of a tasty meal dangled before her, all trace of exhaustion vanished and Yu Jin darted for the door.

"Oppa! What are you doing, hurry up and come out! This is no time to be lying around!"

Yu Hyeon got dragged out, looking utterly bewildered.

"We'll be back, Boss!"

"We're off...... I guess?"

I gave the sprinting siblings a casual wave and returned to the counter.

The Nakwon Inn's exclusive five-star dinner service, prepared for a VIP guest.

Sitting on the counter were the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠canned goods Han Taeseok had brought earlier.

These were the kind of items worth far more cooked and eaten by hand than converted into system points.

Two dented cans of saury pike mackerel, and one can of imported whole tomatoes with a tomato printed on the label.

Even leaning on the power of the status window, this wasn't nearly enough to build a 'perfect dinner' around.

The final puzzle pieces, in the end, rested in the hands of the Yu siblings.

Whatever's still missing, I can fill in through the shop.

Hoping the two of them would return with good news, I scrolled down the shop window's ingredient list.

"Hmm, let's see......"

What should I make?

Just imagining it was already making my stomach growl.