Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 52.1: Boiler (1)

It had been two years and eight months since the war began.

Before the war, I had assumed that by this point, there wouldn’t be many people left alive.

Reality, however, had proven me wrong.

Even if it’s just a shell of its former self, the government still exists, and countless people have managed to take root and survive here and there.

But lately, I can't help but feel that everything is nearing its limit. And I doubt I’m the only one who thinks so.

Even I, Park Gyu, who proudly considers myself the most thoroughly prepared survivalist in all of South Korea, have started to sense a creeping crisis.

What threatens our survival isn’t just the Legion faction or the monsters.

External threats are merely one of many factors that jeopardize our survival.

Living—true survival—encompasses the everyday struggle of life.

And to live, we need supplies.

If I were to put it in game terms, they’re like HP.

Just as a game character dies when their HP hits zero, we do too when our resources are depleted.

Traditionally, there are two major ways to replenish dwindling supplies: looting and scavenging.

Looting isn’t really my style, nor is it an easy task.

As seen during the Defender incident, everyone has leveled up.

In other words, the gullible fools who would sit helplessly in their homes, waiting to be plundered, have all long since died out.

The easier option is scavenging.

Calling it “scavenging” is a polite way to put it, but in reality, it’s more like “scrapping.”

It involves rummaging through abandoned houses or even corpses to secure supplies.

These two methods of survival were never options before the war.

However, with the apocalypse dragging on and humanity’s surprising resilience proving stronger than expected, I’ve started to reconsider my approach.

It was Rebecca who gave me the nudge to change my perspective.

*

People need various supplies to survive, but at its core, it always boils down to the traditional essentials: food, clothing, and shelter.

For now, the food situation is relatively stable.

I've managed to convert most of my frozen supplies into long-term rations, and I occasionally farm small plots in my territory to pass the time.

One of my few joys is planting and harvesting the seedlings Kim Elder passed on to me, along with what I had already stored away.

However, my farming isn’t consistent or organized.

Unlike DSIREA and others who excel in agriculture—those who plant crops neatly in square-shaped fields and harvest them efficiently—I scatter seeds sporadically across various spots.

This isn’t because I’m an idiot but because I want my fields to look nothing like traditional farms.

My “plots” are as small as a single shoe in some places or large enough to barely stretch out my body in others.

It’s inefficient, labor-intensive to water, vulnerable to pests, and yields far less than a proper farm. But compared to the risks of discovery, those disadvantages are trivial.

A person like me, marked by the Legion faction, can’t afford to proudly display their fields like DSIREA, posting pictures titled “Skelton Farm” online. That’s the kind of arrogance that could invite a Legion artillery barrage, wiping out an entire year’s harvest in seconds.

Still, this approach only works for now. It won’t hold up in a year or two.

At best, my reserves will last another year.

Even with the long-term “brick rations,” I might survive five years, but I’d probably lose my mind or succumb to some other ailment long before that.

The bigger issue than food is the aging infrastructure.

Electricity and plumbing were top-notch when installed, and I had expert advice during construction, so they’re holding up fine for now.

The batteries, however, are a different story.

No matter how many I stockpiled, time isn’t kind to them. After three years, the charge capacity and voltage have noticeably dropped.

But the most critical issue is the fuel.

The quality of the fuel is deteriorating steadily—something I’d anticipated.

Fuel isn’t something that lasts forever.

Gasoline doesn’t even make it a year, and diesel, at best, lasts about a year and a half.

I had pre-ordered diesel known for its longevity, added preservatives to prevent oxidation, and stored it in vacuum-sealed tanks, but even that couldn’t stop the passage of time.

Every time I open a valve to use the fuel, air inevitably seeps in through the gaps. Not even a major corporation could prevent that.

Korea’s infamous seasonal swings and humidity haven’t helped either.

Sure, we boast four seasons, but the reality is we get the world’s harshest climates in one "gift set."

Rebecca’s predecessors froze to death en masse during the Korean War, not because they were incompetent but because they couldn’t have imagined a country as hot as the Pacific islands could get that cold.

Fuel shortages are becoming a serious problem.

That morning, Rebecca sent me a message.

From: COOKIEMONSTER123

Message: Skelton, this winter will be freezing.

It’s rare for Rebecca to send me a message online.

She also attached a translated version of a trending post from the Viva! Apocalypse! English board.

Drastic81:

Warning! The North American Weather Research Center has predicted record-breaking cold this winter.

To summarize: if you’re not ready, you’re going to freeze to death.

The post claimed that global cooling trends are being detected worldwide.

Last winter, an unprecedented cold wave swept through, claiming countless lives. This year, it’s predicted to be even harsher.

The author pointed to factors like massive volcanic eruptions in Southeast Asia and nuclear warfare as the causes.

This winter will likely be a major turning point for the world.

Nature itself will test humanity before the monsters do.

Outside, the cicadas are still buzzing.

It’s the middle of summer—a time to worry about heatstroke, not freezing.

But my thoughts are already on winter.

If the Legion faction or monsters attack before then, I’ll die, but going into winter unprepared would guarantee an icy “Skelton Ending.”

How should I prepare for winter?

The answer came from one of the most commonly searched pieces of equipment for rural living: a wood-burning boiler.

The reasons are simple.

First, fuel quality is declining, and oil reserves are unreliable. Meanwhile, wood is relatively plentiful and easy to source.

Second, the heat from burning wood is far stronger than city folk might imagine.

Kim Elder even installed a wood-burning boiler to power his traditional Korean ondol floor heating and lived a cozy, wellness-focused life before passing on.

So why hadn’t I chosen a wood-burning boiler before?

It’s simple: it produces thick, white smoke that can be seen from miles away.

Before the war, that might’ve been a charming symbol of rural life. But now, it’s a suicide signal, inviting anyone nearby to come and kill you.

That’s why wood-burning boilers weren’t even on my list of options.

But now, I’m seriously considering one.

Rebecca’s message made it clear—this winter will be far worse than the last.

So, the choice is simple: freeze to death or risk being shot.

I chose the boiler without hesitation.

There wasn’t much to think about.

The harsh beatings I’ve taken from winter’s brutality have taught me that the cold is scarier than people.

Of course, I’d only use the boiler when the cold becomes unbearable—when temperatures stay below -15°C for over a month.

By then, the weak will have all perished, and anyone who manages to reach my area will be in dire straits. They probably won’t even make it as far as the golf course.

Of course, if the Legion faction shows up decked out in winter gear, well, I guess I’ll die.

But for now, I don’t even have a wood-burning boiler.

The fact that it wasn’t on my list means I never even considered using one.

But now, I need it.

With online shopping gone and every supplier either a zombie or a corpse, there are only two ways to get it: steal or scavenge.

I chose scavenging.

And I know just the expert for the job—my neighbor, Defender.

*

"A Wood-Burning Boiler? Those are everywhere. You can find one easily by checking a few abandoned country houses nearby."

Defender might be infamous for his reputation as a killer, which eventually forced him into retirement from the forums, but in my opinion, he’s more of a highly skilled scavenger than a murderer.

The piles of supplies in his house speak for themselves.

Every time I visit, his stash seems to have grown—even vehicles included.

"Consumables are almost gone. They’ve been looted to the last drop. But large, fixed equipment like boilers—especially simple ones like wood-burning boilers—are usually left behind. They're heavy and cumbersome to carry off, and if you know what you’re doing, you can easily make one yourself with what you’ve got."

Defender pointed me toward a place likely to have a boiler.

Sunflower Village.

It’s an abandoned cluster of country houses not far from my territory.

Nobody lives there anymore, but you can see signs that raiders and scavengers have already swept through the area long ago.

Interestingly, behind the houses is a graveyard—likely the result of legal disputes between the original developers and the residents. Some of the graves have been dug up, perhaps by a German scavenger, judging by the meticulous handiwork.

Defender warned me to be extremely cautious when searching abandoned homes.

What might appear deserted could still house people, often the elderly or weak, or worse, zombies.

In the worst-case scenario, there could be mutations lurking inside.

Message from Defender:

"It was a cat mutation that time. I ran away screaming like a little kid."

Mutations are undoubtedly terrifying creatures, but their numbers aren’t overwhelming.

Their larger size makes them more noticeable, and their bigger bodies demand greater sustenance—something that doesn’t improve with increased intelligence or size.

Even in China, where mutations are abundant, most have died due to starvation or infighting.

Some mutations that prey on humans have been killed by the humans themselves.

In this area, there are no villages or wildlife to sustain mutations.

It’s a barren wasteland.

Still, I couldn’t let my guard down.

With an axe in one hand and a rifle in the other, I approached the abandoned house cautiously.

Thud!

I kicked open the door and stepped inside.

The stale air was thick with dust, and the faint scent of decay lingered—likely from corpses long reduced to husks.

Click.

Moving slowly and carefully, I began to search the house.

When scavenging abandoned homes, it’s essential to search the entire property.

Skipping areas like the attic or basement out of laziness could expose you to a counterattack from someone hiding there.

This is even more critical if you plan to spend any amount of time in the house. For safety’s sake, you should also inspect nearby houses.

If someone is hiding within range and they’re armed, they could pose a significant threat.

The object of my search wasn’t hard to find.

In the boiler room, a massive wood-burning boiler stood intact, showing no signs of major damage.

Next to it were two mummified corpses.

Unsettling, but at least it confirmed that there were no immediate threats in the house.

The real problem was the boiler’s weight.

Just by looking at it, I could tell it was at least 150 kilograms.

It’s not impossible for me, Skelton, to lift, but just barely.

And a strained back equals death in this world.

Catch a cold, you die.

Updat𝓮d fr𝙤m ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com.

Get too cold, you die.

That’s the reality we live in.

Should I bring in a forklift?

The boiler was only 9 kilometers away, but using a forklift for such a distance was no trivial decision.

I’d probably have to bring it back anyway, maybe load it onto a truck.

At least I had secured the boiler.

Now, I needed to search the area thoroughly.

I’d have to return eventually, so I might as well scout the surroundings properly this time.

Holding my rifle at the ready, I moved into the adjacent house.

This one was smaller but well-built, with a quaint charm.

Most of the first-floor windows were shattered, but the second-floor windows and others out of reach were pristine and offered a clear view of the outside.

The moment I stepped inside, I hesitated.

Should I turn back?

This house... someone was living here.

I could feel it.

No matter how well they tried to hide it, my instincts were sharp.

Engaging with people wasn’t a good idea.

Anyone prepared to bunker down with weapons and shoot on sight wasn’t worth tangling with.

“...I’ve come to the wrong place. I’ll leave now. I have no intention of fighting, so please don’t misunderstand.”

Speaking toward the unknown resident, I slowly began to back away.

But I hadn’t taken more than a few steps when two lights flickered in the darkness.

People.

“E-excuse me!”

It was a child’s voice.

Not one, but three children.

They were all skin and bones, looking like walking skeletons.

“Do you... have any food?”