Chapter 1

1. Old Man Kim

The story of how the world fell apart and became a mess is long, tedious, and complicated, but there are plenty of interesting episodes within it.

For example, my wise preparation for the future.

The impending crisis was a topic that everyone from intellectuals to YouTuber Rekka talked about endlessly, but among civilians, only two types actually prepared for it.

The first were the nouveau riche who had so much money they could build bunkers on their private land, and the second were the bold doers who could invest everything in vague possibilities by denying reality.

I belong to the latter.

As soon as I sensed the crisis, I boldly liquidated my assets and prepared for the impending doom.

I didn't inherit much, but I had accumulated some wealth.

I worked in a field where it was impossible not to make money, and in the final stages, I worked like a madman, sleeping only about four hours a day and drastically increasing my workload.

However, since I didn't have as much money as the nouveau riche, I took the time to learn various skills while enduring the grueling work.

Basic electrical work, construction, heavy machinery operation, drug and chemical synthesis, basic medical skills, and more. For things I couldn't understand, I bought books and video tutorials and stored them.

The most important thing was where to settle.

It was not an easy decision.

I consulted survival experts, civilians who survived in war zones, remote explorers, and the doomsday community 'Viva! Apocalypse!' which I will introduce later.

After a long review and deliberation, I selected the site based on four key criteria.

First, a place where no one lives and no one would look for in an emergency.

Second, maintaining an appropriate distance from major cities.

Third, the terrain of the hideout.

Fourth, the price.

The first criterion is the most basic of basics.

The greatest danger to someone building their own fortress to prepare for the apocalypse is not monsters or hordes of zombies, but humans themselves.

In reality, humans have been the primary threat to my apocalyptic life.

However, humans are a species that find it difficult to survive alone.

The second condition may seem to contradict the first, but it is a very important criterion.

If you can maintain communication with the city, you can obtain necessary supplies and valuable information in an emergency.

Leaving the safe hideout and venturing into the dangerous outside world is a very risky move, but being locked in a bunker and missing the approaching massive storm is a guaranteed death sentence.

The third condition is the foundation for the eternal struggle until my death.

The hideout must be observable from all sides and not easily discovered from the outside.

Defensive capabilities are the next consideration.

No matter how easy the terrain is to defend, once the hideout is discovered, it will be difficult to defend it alone.

Humans are the most numerous species among animals, excluding insects.

Ah, soil quality and groundwater are also important.

The soil must be soft enough to dig deep, and groundwater will be my life-sustaining water after the water supply is cut off.

Of course, all these conditions must be considered within the limits of my budget.

Money may become worthless when the world collapses, but you need money to prepare before the collapse.

The site I selected was a forested area on a mountain between an air force base and a golf course.

It was sparsely populated and easy to observe, and it maintained an appropriate distance from major cities, but it had a fatal flaw.

The land was a so-called "blind spot" with no road access.

It was an unavoidable choice.

Blind spots are much cheaper, sometimes several times or even dozens of times cheaper than land with road access.

The fact that unscrupulous waste disposal operators used it as an illegal dumping ground for construction waste, creating mountains of industrial waste, also contributed to the low price.

Still, thanks to this, I managed to secure a fairly large plot of land.

It was as wide as the adjacent golf course.

The lack of road access was resolved by paying a usage fee and offering free labor during the harvest season to the owner of the adjacent land, but it wasn't an easy task.

"From Seoul, huh? Well, let's see how it goes."

I can't remember the old man's name now, but I'm sure his surname was Kim.

He was a thin, short man with a Chungcheong accent, around seventy years old, and my first impression of him was not good.

As expected, Old Man Kim's temper was so bad that even I, who consider myself enlightened, sometimes felt the urge to kill him.

He would complain at every opportunity, demand restoration, block the only road with obstacles, and frequently show up to demand help with odd jobs.

When he came to my container house at 3 AM, banging on the door to demand help, I really felt the urge to bury him in the rice paddy.

What can I do? Cheap things are often expensive in the end.

I saved money on the cheap land and used it to buy heavy machinery, construction materials, and survival supplies.

I acquired excavators, loaders, drills, forklifts, and more.

Hiring people to build a bunker would be cheaper and more professional, but my plan was to continuously expand and modify my hideout.

My 220,000 square meters of land is my foundation and stronghold in the collapsing world, and it is my life's fortress.

Naturally, I hired people at first.

It's impossible to match the skills and know-how of professionals with just the knowledge I learned from the internet and lectures.

"Sir, is all this yours? What are you planning to do?"

The construction workers were all surprised by my collection of heavy machinery.

"Well, I somehow developed a hobby for this."

I tried to brush it off and win their favor.

At first, they were reluctant to have the client join in the work, but after buying them a few drinks and snacks, we eventually worked as a team.

From them, I learned how to dig into the ground, support the excavated earth, the ideal mix ratio and pouring method for concrete, and other practical knowledge that can't be learned from lectures or textbooks.

However, as the construction began in earnest, Old Man Kim started causing trouble.

"What are you doing, gathering so many people to build something? Did you get a development permit?"

After about a month of putting up with his temper, I understood why he was acting this way.

He seemed to need someone to vent his frustrations on.

His aging body, unsatisfactory life, tedious loneliness, and impending death.

The despair I could vaguely understand had turned him into an annoying old man.

Still, from what I heard about his reputation in the village, he didn't seem to have a good temper to begin with.

His nickname was "Horo-sangnom" (a derogatory term for a stingy person).

Thanks to his foul temper, my first bunker construction was frequently interrupted and eventually caused dissatisfaction among the workers.

I'm not a saint, so as I reached my limit of patience, I noticed an unfamiliar vehicle parked in front of Old Man Kim's isolated house.

It was a shiny new Mercedes.

A man who looked like Old Man Kim but was much taller and younger was standing with a middle-aged woman whose mouth was twisted.

"Is that his son...?"

The words slipped out of my mouth involuntarily.

Old Man Kim had never talked about his family.

I knew he had a family because I often saw him fiddling with his phone and trying to make calls, but this was the first time I actually saw them.

That day, I discovered the true stain on Old Man Kim's heart.

"Hey, sell this land. We'll take care of you. Why are you being so stubborn! Hey!"

The man who looked like Old Man Kim grabbed his collar and shook him like a toy.

The woman with the twisted mouth just watched, showing no intention of stopping him.

She even seemed to be silently cheering on her husband with a sneer.

"Damn. I gave you all those shots when you were young, and now you're giving the good land to your sister and the trash land to your eldest son. Do you know how much Park Seobang is ignoring me these days?"

The man's voice grew louder.

He must have had a lot of pent-up frustration.

Old Man Kim's temper was so bad that even I, who consider myself enlightened, sometimes felt the urge to kill him.

But it was getting out of hand.

"That brat who went to that damn school is living in a much better apartment and living it up, while your son, who carries your name, is struggling to pay for his grandson's English kindergarten tuition!"

His anger was visibly growing, amplifying his emotions.

"Are you going to sell the land? Or not?"

When the man raised his fist, I made a loud coughing sound.

He glared at me angrily.

What are you trying to do?

He slowly lowered his fist and muttered something inaudible.

Meanwhile, Old Man Kim, who was grabbed by the collar, was unusually slumped, shaking his head weakly.

His gaze was fixed on his collapsing house.

"Damn!!!"

The man cursed, let go of Old Man Kim, and walked to the Mercedes with his wife.

As he opened the car door, he threw a cold remark.

"I won't bring Youngjin for Chuseok this time!"

After the car left, I hesitated for a moment.

Should I pretend not to see the dazed Old Man Kim or offer a word of comfort?

I dislike Old Man Kim as much as his son, but I still need his cooperation for now.

Suppressing my anger, I approached him.

"You saw everything, didn't you?"

Old Man Kim didn't look at me.

His gaze was still fixed on his collapsing house.

He took out a lollipop and put it in his mouth, then squatted next to the old man and looked at the old, dilapidated house together.

"Is that your son?"

"......Do you have parents?"

I shook my head.

"They passed away in an accident."

"Oh."

"It was a long time ago. Anyway, this must be a big problem for you?"

"I didn't give him cheap land."

Old Man Kim sighed deeply, watching the departing Mercedes.

"When I gave it to him, the land was much more expensive......"

"You mean the land you gave to your son?"

Old Man Kim nodded and took out a cigarette, putting it in his mouth.

I helped him light it, and he began to tell his story with a bitter smile.

"The land I gave to my daughter was a blind spot like yours. It was even a worthless piece of land with a dirt mountain. Who knew a 10-lane road would be built in front of it? Who knew a tunnel would be dug and a new town would be built on that corner of land?"

His life was as expected.

He wasn't a good father or a great father.

He was a mediocre father who often injected his family with shots and used violence.

He lived his life as a "Horo-sangnom" and, in his old age, became a rich father by selling his land for a large sum of money, leading a boring life.

If not for that, his children might have cut ties with him long ago.

To quickly end the conversation, I asked abruptly.

"Why don't you sell the house? If you sell it and move somewhere else, wouldn't that solve the problem?"

"I can't. I can't."

The old man exhaled a white cloud of smoke and looked up at the sky.

"The ghost of my dead wife is here. She tolerated my 'Horo-sangnom' temper all her life......"

I don't know what I did right for Old Man Kim, but one thing is certain: that short conversation opened a 10-lane road in his heart.

After that day, he no longer blocked the construction vehicles or complained.

With no more conflicts, our relationship naturally improved, and I even offered to help him with odd jobs.

There's no harm in getting along with your neighbor.

I also learned agricultural knowledge from Old Man Kim, which is hard for a city dweller to learn.

"Farming is about the lunar calendar. The solar calendar is useless. You need to look at the lunar calendar. The seasons. The seasons are important."

He also seemed to have a vague idea of what I was trying to do.

"Are you one of those survivalists or doomsday preppers?"

"Something like that."

"If you're doing that, you'll need seedlings, right? You'll need to eat vegetables even if the world ends, won't you?"

"Can you grow anything underground?"

"Sunlight, water, and fertilizer are all you need. These days, seedlings are so good. The important thing is the effort."

Several seasons passed, but his children never visited him.

During Seollal and Chuseok, I watched from a distance as he stood alone in the yard of his collapsing house, staring at the road.

Later, when China started a war and missiles launched from China hit the capital, Old Man Kim stumbled into my bunker.

It was the first time I saw him so flustered.

"Find out what happened to my son."

When communication was restored and I checked the list of casualties, I had to deliver the sad news.

Old Man Kim just lowered his head in silence.

He didn't cry or sob.

What wind blew him to me?

"The world is about to end. If you want, would you like to come to my bunker?"

I made a suggestion that didn't align with my principles.

Old Man Kim looked up at me.

He smiled at me.

"Wait a moment. I need to prepare something."

"Do you need to prepare something?"

"I have something to give you."

He was a man who could smile warmly, contrary to what I thought.

When I found Old Man Kim again, he was hanging from the beam of the collapsing house he had tried to protect, swaying like a weed.

At his cold feet, seedlings were neatly packaged with care.

His body could not be recovered.

Nuclear attack sirens were blaring, announcing the end of the world.

I quickly took the seedlings and retreated to the bunker.

In the end, it was a wise choice.

The furious flames of nuclear fission that followed completely incinerated the collapsing house and his body, leaving no trace.