Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 118.3: Story (3)

J completely sealed off the only exit, blocking it with trash, plastic sheets, and collapsed debris, isolating the biodome from the outside world.

With its perfect enclosure, the biodome became an entirely self-contained ecosystem.

At first, the realization filled J with exhilaration.

But the exhilaration faded quickly.

Because he understood the truth.

He himself was now part of this sealed ecosystem.

Every living creature requires a certain amount of energy to survive.

And in a confined space, survival depends solely on the energy produced within that space.

If the energy generated is sufficient, the organism survives.

If not, it cannot escape destruction.

The area J inhabited measured 3,546 square meters.

It might seem vast for one person, but the amount of energy the biodome’s plants could produce was limited.

Moreover, the season was changing.

Until now, Korea’s humid autumn had sustained the plants, but when temperatures dropped, many of them wouldn’t survive.

That meant less overall energy in the ecosystem.

The smaller energy supply would affect everything—from the insects and arthropods that fed on plants to the fish in the water, to the capybara family, and, ultimately, to the top predators in the dome.

A chain reaction of ecological collapse was inevitable.

J had food stored for now, but not enough to last the entire winter.

He would have to rely on the ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) ecosystem to some extent.

Gathering, hunting, farming—whatever worked.

Somehow, he had to make up for the missing calories.

At the top of the food chain were three creatures.

The Nile crocodile.

The Amazonian giant otter.

And the human.

The crocodile and the otter had to go.

They were competitors, depleting the precious fish that served as a high-quality protein source.

The massive arapaima lurking in the dark depths of the artificial pond was another important target that had to be taken down before the cold arrived.

If left alone, it would devour a huge portion of the pond’s fish.

Of course, J could wait for it to die naturally and scavenge it, but killing it now was far more efficient from an energy-management standpoint.

The most urgent problem, however, was the thawed meat and fish inside the freezer.

Now that it had defrosted, it would start rotting quickly.

Wasting calories was not an option.

J decided to sort out what he could eat and feed the rest to his rivals in the ecosystem.

The Nile crocodile lived in the central artificial pond of the biodome.

The Amazonian giant otter and the arapaima shared the same habitat.

"Back then, I had no idea that decision would bring me a new friend."

J threw the rotting fish into the pond to preserve as much energy as possible within the biodome.

But soon after, something dark approached him.

A creature that visitors once called “Wangdal”—the Amazonian giant otter.

Having been raised by humans since infancy, the otter gobbled up the fish eagerly. Then, instead of leaving, it began to beg for more, rubbing against J affectionately.

Only then did J realize his mistake—the Amazonian giant otter was not a competitor.

It was not truly a wild animal.

It was a child of humans.

It had never learned to hunt.

It had never been taught the survival skills passed down from parent to offspring.

Since infancy, it had been fed from bottles instead of its mother’s milk, raised by human caretakers, and destined to live and die as nothing more than an exhibit for human spectators.

"Piiiii! Piiiii!"

As the giant otter rolled onto its back, playfully exposing its belly, J thought of his nephew in Seoul.

It was... adorable.

When J returned to the control room, the otter followed him naturally.

The next targets were the Nile crocodile and the arapaima.

The crocodile had to go first.

Crocodiles were naturally hostile to humans and would hunt them without hesitation if given the chance.

Considering how difficult it would be to kill the arapaima, eliminating the crocodile first was the logical choice.

Inside the control room, with the giant otter curled up beside him, J strategized.

"How do I kill the crocodile?"

His only weapon was a metal pipe.

Not enough.

He needed something more lethal.

Then, J recalled a horrifying hunting tool that had been controversial in Korea.

A snare trap.

A looped wire trap that tightened when an animal struggled, cutting off circulation and movement.

It was easy to make and materials were abundant.

J had even seen real-life examples while volunteering for animal welfare organizations, helping remove illegal snares.

While feeding the rotting fish to the otter, J worked tirelessly to construct his deadly trap.

The day of the hunt arrived.

J stared down his rival—the crocodile lurking in the murky, still pond.

Beside him, the giant otter scampered about excitedly, demanding food.

J had set up multiple snare traps and was ready for the final gamble.

He was going to use himself as bait.

Clutching a wooden club, he cautiously approached the hidden crocodile.

It didn’t react easily.

J had to close the distance—inch by inch.

A nerve-wracking standoff.

The explosive speed of a crocodile’s strike could end everything in an instant.

If he messed up, he’d lose the battle of the food chain and become just another prey item.

"Come on. Come at me, you bastard."

He tapped the ground with his club, provoking the crocodile.

Finally—

Its legs twitched.

"!"

J ran for his life.

At the same moment, the crocodile lunged.

Water exploded into the air.

A massive shadow surged toward him.

"Just a little more!"

Thud!

The sound of impact.

A sound of relief.

It meant the crocodile had landed outside its lunge range.

But that fleeting relief led to a mistake.

J slipped on the wet floor.

A sharp impact rattled his skull.

But more terrifying than the pain was the looming silhouette of the crocodile, rushing toward him.

"Piiiii!"

A miracle happened.

The giant otter leaped at the crocodile.

True to its "giant" name, the Amazonian otter was 1.8 meters long, a powerful predator with the ferocity of a weasel and the agility of a feline.

It sank its teeth into the crocodile’s body, tearing through flesh.

That split-second distraction gave J the chance to scramble away toward the snare trap.

"Come here!"

Hearing J’s voice, the otter instinctively retreated.

From that moment, the hunt was smooth.

The crocodile became ensnared, its limbs tightening the wire with every struggle.

J waited patiently, watching it thrash and weaken.

Then, when the moment was right, he drove a sharpened stake straight into its throat.

The greatest threat was gone.

J owed his survival to the otter.

From that day on, they lived together.

There were many stories, but one of the most memorable was the arapaima hunt.

J built a makeshift net, successfully catching it—only for the massive fish to rip the net apart with sheer strength.

Realizing he needed a different method, J crafted a spear and hunted the fish like an ancient human—hurling the weapon into the murky depths.

The reward was immense.

Not only did he gain enough food for days, but he also prevented the fish from consuming more of the pond’s resources.

And every time he succeeded, the giant otter was always by his side.

The temperature dropped.

The outside thermometer read 12°C.

The tropical plants couldn't withstand the drop in temperature, just as J had predicted.

The once lush green of the biodome began to fade into withered brown.

J realized that the plant deaths were happening faster and on a larger scale than he had expected.

If winter arrived like this, the biodome would become a dead ecosystem.

Fortunately, food seemed sufficient.

Thanks to his quick elimination of the crocodile and the arapaima, there were still plenty of fish left in the pond.

If he harvested them before the water froze, they would provide enough calories to last.

And the harsh winter would preserve them, preventing decay.

The dead plants would serve as firewood.

Winter was long, but it wasn’t eternal.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Then, spring sunlight returned, breathing life back into the biodome.

The tropical plants that had turned brown regained their vibrancy.

The pond’s fish were completely gone, but J wasn’t worried.

By now, the Chinese soldiers would have left.

The long, long isolation was finally over.

He tore down the barricade he had built at the entrance and stepped outside.

How long had it been since he breathed fresh air?

Beside him, his companion, the Amazonian giant otter, scampered at his feet.

What should I do with this one?

As J pondered, something appeared in front of him.

A person.

J immediately retreated back inside the biodome.

No doubt about it.

There were armed people walking around.

They weren’t wearing Chinese military uniforms, but he had a bad feeling.

Maybe the long period of living in isolation had awakened something primal in him.

Bang! Bang!

Gunfire rang out.

Gunfire echoed through the night.

That day, J felt his fate settle in his bones.

He had to stay here.

In this sealed-off world.

This other ecosystem.

J’s eyes drifted to the otter playing innocently by his side.

“......”

The answer was obvious.

If he couldn’t leave this biodome, he would have to survive solely on the resources within it.

J didn’t have the courage to leave.

But he had the courage to kill.

“Piiiiiiiiiik!!!!!”

On a peaceful afternoon, J killed the otter.

The only gratitude he could show the creature that had once saved his life was to kill it without pain.

But it wasn’t that easy.

The otter, wounded by an unexpected blow, staggered, bleeding.

It screamed in agony, letting out mournful cries as it thrashed toward J.

The slaughter lasted an hour.

Inside the bloodstained room, J collapsed, his eyes shut, taking deep, controlled breaths.

“......Hoo.”

It was done.

Now, the total available energy in the biodome was enough to sustain one human.

After killing his only friend with his own hands, J’s life became no different from that of a wild beast.

He hunted for food, rested, then hunted again.

The only civilized act he still performed was feeding pieces of the otter’s meat to the mealworms.

That was the one thing even in his regression to a primitive state that he couldn’t bring himself to eat.

A single mealworm weighed 0.1 grams.

100 grams of mealworms contained about 530 kcal.

And so, J lived in perfect isolation.

In perfect balance.

Another year passed.

Then, he finally stepped out of the biodome, surveying the surroundings.

There were no people left.

Only a few skeletal remains suggested that others had once shared this place.

"......I thought that was hell."

When J returned to civilization, he told his story.

But then, he corrected himself.

"No... it wasn’t."

"That place was Eden."

J vanished without a trace.

No one knew where he went.

But everyone could guess.

He had returned—to that place of perfect balance.

Perhaps hell.

Perhaps Eden.

The story didn’t end there.

"......A group of scavengers went there later. A fairly large group," Bang Jae-hyuk said.

"They found the biodome. Just like J described—a sealed tropical dome, barely big enough for one person to squeeze through."

"But here’s the thing."

Bang Jae-hyuk smirked bitterly, scanning our faces.

"Places like that have signs."

"Signs that tell you what plants and animals are inside."

"But according to the signs, there were no Amazonian giant otters, no Nile crocodiles, no arapaima."

"Even people who had visited the biodome before the war said they’d never seen such animals there."

J was never found.

And the creatures he had spoken of—the Amazonian giant otter, the arapaima, the Nile crocodile, and the crawling mealworms—were nowhere to be found.

The only thing the scavengers discovered was filthy trash, tattered clothing, and a single skeleton, tangled in wire, resembling a snare trap.

The story had fallen into an eternal mystery.

Whether J’s experiences were real, or if they were an allegory for something even darker, no one could say.

"The scavengers said... they felt someone watching them as they left."

"The jungle was thriving—thick, wild, full of life."

"Maybe... just maybe... J was still hiding in that jungle, watching the people who had come looking for him."

The reaction to the story was mixed.

No one clapped.

But everyone had an expression on their face.

"What the hell? So J was lying?"

"The otter was a person, right? And the crocodile too?"

"I don’t know... maybe it really was an otter. Those info signs never update properly. Could’ve just been left out."

"I think I did see a crocodile there once... maybe."

Anyway, the long story had finally come to an end.

Maybe now it was my turn.

Clearing my throat, I prepared to speak.

"At the black-market fresh meat restaurant—"

But at that exact moment, Hong Da-jeong’s voice overpowered mine.

"The rain stopped!"

"?"

Ignoring me completely, my so-called guests rushed outside.

"Look! The sun’s out!"

"Finally, it’s over."

The typhoon had passed.

With no casualties.

"Guess I’ll save the John Nae-non story for another time."

Only Ballantine offered me a sympathetic smirk.

But honestly, it wasn’t something worth pitying.

"......"

Tap, tap, tap.

NoPayNewbie: (A mysterious story about the National Ecology Center, as told by Skelton.txt)

I posted J’s story on the Red Archive forums.

Like a true internet community veteran, I included an eerie soundtrack, carefully selected images of Amazonian giant otters and Nile crocodiles, and made sure to craft the perfect atmosphere.

The mysterious, eerie tale was well received.

Maybe the story’s impact had rubbed off on me just a little.

That night, for the first time in a long while, I had a dream.

And in that dream...

I saw my old mentor, Jang Ki-young.