Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 68: Lotto

The survival methods of our doomsday enthusiasts are black and white.

There's no definitive answer as to what's right.

Each person's circumstances and situations are different.

Still, when you step back and look at it, surviving as a person is generally the same.

Amidst countless differences, there's always something to learn.

Take my neighbor Rebecca, for instance. She’s surprisingly skilled in gathering and hunting.

She spends the whole day watching for Koreans from the top of the building, but once the sun sets, she and her daughter wander around for gathering activities.

Sometimes, she uses batteries to send electricity through a creek to catch a large number of fish.

She says she learned these skills while living in Canada’s forests when she was young, and though she tries to downplay it, there’s no denying that these skills have contributed to her and her daughter’s survival.

But relying on luck to hunt each time won’t get you all the food you need every day.

Their move is probably imminent.

Meanwhile, my other neighbor, Defender, has made a name for himself on the internet as a killer, but I actually want to give him more credit for his skills as a scavenger.

He really gets around.

Not just within the metropolitan area, but all the way to the Chungcheong and Gangwon regions, he’s been all over the place.

“I’ve even been to the border of Hwanghaedo,” he said once while drinking coffee when I met him in person.

“Hwanghaedo? North Korea? Isn't that an erosion zone?” I asked.

“Parts of it have been eroded, but some areas are still fine. The erosion around Paju is pretty severe, so I thought it would be the same up north, but if you move away from the gates, it's fine. Not that there are no monsters or mutations, but it’s still doable.”

I asked him if it wasn’t dangerous to be out there so often.

“It’s dangerous,” Defender replied.

“I know it’s dangerous.”

His younger sibling, who was working on the computer, also glanced over.

“But,” they both said simultaneously.

Defender’s younger sibling gave a look, urging Defender to speak first, and then he turned to me and continued.

“In the long run, that might actually be safer. You can always move to another shelter if things get risky, and there are resource issues to consider. We’re living here because we’ve been wandering around to secure these connections.”

At the time, Defender’s words seemed plausible.

It was similar to my original idea of keeping ties with Seoul when I first built the bunker: taking small risks to prepare for larger ones and securing connections.

What Defender said stuck with me recently.

“There’s surprisingly a lot of supplies in the outskirts. The government gave rapid evacuation orders, so they pushed people into the big cities. The areas with good access have already been cleared by scavengers, but there are places that are harder to reach. If you can find those spots, you can make a decent profit.”

The life of a scavenger.

It’s a lifestyle I never considered before the war.

But given how the collapse of the world has been delayed, and the people I need to take care of are slowly growing, securing more resources has become essential.

“I like winter,” Defender said.

“Why? Do you like it? Because it’s cold here? It’s cold for the people who might target us, too. And when it gets cold, most people will light fires. If they don’t, they’ll freeze to death. You can tell where people are just by the smoke. That’s why I prefer winter.”

I decided to adopt Defender’s advice.

I wasn’t going to become a full-fledged scavenger, but I wanted to at least scout the areas around me, those I didn’t know well.

The weather was just right.

Minus two degrees.

With a few hand warmers, some basic fuel, and winter gear I had jointly ordered from the U.S. with John Nae-non, I was set for a spring-like temperature.

I donned a white poncho and relied on a bicycle to leave the bunker.

The area I intended to explore was uncharted territory: the south.

It hadn’t seemed necessary to explore the Gold Pack’s territory when they were around, but now that they had moved on, I needed to familiarize myself with the terrain.

Breathing out white mist, I headed south, wearing a white outfit in the white landscape.

The southern region wasn’t a place I often visited even before the war.

There was no real need to go.

I’d been a few times, riding a truck to try the delicious tofu stew at a famous place, but that was it.

It wasn’t a city, the roads weren’t good, and the scenery wasn’t even remotely attractive.

It was a typical area mixing rural farmlands with small factories.

As expected, not long after, a feed factory appeared, half-collapsed and rusting.

I carefully checked inside with a firearm.

Nothing.

It had already been scavenged by people, and the animals had followed after, but now, there was only scrap metal, no more usable goods—just the remains of a fish left behind.

It wouldn’t even make a good shelter.

It was the only noticeable building within several kilometers, on flat ground, with no living facilities.

Beyond the factory were snow-covered fields and a few scattered homes.

I searched through each of them.

“...”

This was quite late to be searching.

It wasn’t right after the war, but almost three years later, I was still digging through places like this.

There might have been something useful, but it was no good now.

I found a few cans and some ramen, but they had all gone bad.

The cans were swollen like dead cows, and the ramen had been eaten by mold in its package.

There were no bodies.

It looked like everyone had evacuated.

There was a large jar of liquor with mountain roots, but it seemed someone had already opened the lid and taken all the contents.

Sitting on the veranda, I drank some sweet coffee mix from a thermos, replenishing my energy and stamina.

Ding ding—

The wind chimes tied on the veranda made a pleasant sound.

“Wind chimes.”

I thought about taking them with me, but what use would they be in the bunker?

I decided to just enjoy the sound for a moment.

After a short rest, I headed toward the town along the road.

The southern town was more run-down and devoid of people than the eastern town where the Gold Pack had lived.

Luckily, there was a famous temple nearby, and a few large restaurants still catered to people who had visited the temple.

The tofu stew shop I had visited a few times was one of those businesses.

The shop, which had always been crowded, was now collapsing with half its roof gone.

I squeezed through the entrance, filled with trash and weeds, and turned on my lantern to examine the inside.

“...”

Am I too gullible?

Contrary to Defender’s words, there was nothing here.

I wasn’t even exploring an abandoned house.

I bent down and searched the tofu stew shop and found only a stone pot.

Thud.

I put it in my basket.

I didn’t know why, but I felt like I had to take it.

There was no way to make tofu stew, and no way to use it, but I felt I should take it with me.

After grabbing the stone pot, I checked other stores.

A spicy fish soup shop, a chicken place, dumplings, buckwheat noodles, chicken galbi, and hand-pulled noodles.

These were places I had planned to visit, but never did before the war.

I finally visited these late, now that the world had changed.

There were no people, no cooks, no staff at the stores, and of course, no smell of food.

There was nothing to take.

I stood frozen, contemplating whether or not to take the plastic noodle bowls from the Chinese restaurant, when an interesting sign caught my eye.

< Lotto 1/47 >

It would be a lie to say I had never played the lottery.

I, Park Gyu, have bought lottery tickets before.

Of course, when I was sharper, it seemed impossible, but when my debts were piling up, I bought a regular ten-thousand-won ticket online, hoping for a life-changing win.

I bought quite a few, but never won more than five thousand won.

Isn’t that just how lotteries go?

Someone wins, but it’s never me.

I thought it would be fun to show Rebecca’s daughter, Sue, what a lottery is once they moved, so I walked into the shop.

“Wow.”

As soon as I entered, I was in awe.

Unlike the other places that were messy and broken, this lotto shop was preserved in such a way that it felt like time had reversed.

Scavengers had certainly come to the neighborhood, but it seemed like they hadn’t touched the lotto shop at all.

A little thought made the reason clear.

In a world fallen to ruin, what’s the point of a lottery?

They don’t even draw anymore, and there’s nowhere to exchange your winnings even if you win the jackpot.

The shop had a desk for marking lottery numbers, which had been affixed to the wall, with lottery sheets and pens covered in dust, waiting for someone’s hand to touch them.

For fun, I dusted off the sheets, pulled out a pen, and started marking the numbers.

It worked.

I felt an inexplicable thrill as I quickly marked six numbers.

Of course, just marking them doesn’t make you win.

You still need to scan it into the machine and pay for the ticket.

But unfortunately, a miracle like that is hard to come by now.

I fed the paper into the machine, and with a beep, I had my moment of excitement.

“...”

I put the pen back in its place and left the shop.

I glanced back once before leaving.

It’s impossible to go back to those days when I’d buy a lottery ticket and live in foolish dreams for a week, but at least I felt what it was like to win the lottery.

Maybe in a world like ours, having a store preserved just as it was in the past might be the real jackpot.

Anyway, my first scavenger haul of the day consisted of the following:

A stone pot, two soju glasses, a bonsai with a slightly broken base, and a lotto sheet with six numbers I marked myself.

*

On my way, I stopped by Rebecca’s house to catch up and ask how things were going.

With winter arriving, I couldn’t help but wonder if Rebecca was still planning to move in. Every time I asked, she said she would, but it was always just a response given in passing. When someone keeps dragging things out and their answers become vague, you can’t help but doubt them.

For me, it would be more than welcome if Rebecca and her daughter could hold out here. I built the hut and even put up a bathroom, but sharing my territory with someone is still a bit hard to get used to.

When I arrived at the building where the mother and daughter were hiding, Sue, who was on watch, hurriedly ran down to greet me.

“Skelton! Got anything juicy today?”

“Nothing today.”

I handed her a soju glass as a gift.

“I don’t need this.”

“...”

“What’s that, Skelton?”

Sue, showing interest, pointed at the faded lotto ticket instead of the bonsai or stone pot.

“Oh? This? It’s called Lotto.”

“Lotto? Like a lottery? You have to match seven numbers, right?”

“In Korea, it's six.”

Sue stared at the lotto ticket and blew warm air into her hands as if her fingers were cold.

“Did you pick these numbers, Skelton?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Why, you ask?”

“Isn’t it useless now? You can’t exchange it for money anymore, right?”

“It’s for fun.”

“For fun?”

Sue gave me a puzzled look.

“Why that expression?”

“My mom always says that anyone who does the lottery must have a pitiful life,” she said with a wry smile, her voice tinged with bitterness.

“...What’s your mom doing right now?”

“Playing games.”

Sue sighed deeply, her expression betraying her young age as she gave a bitter smile.

“Her friend died, and she’s crying about it.”

“Her friend died?”

“She turned into a tomb or something.”

“Oh.”

It seems she was still playing Monster Park. I had heard that the cold snap had come earlier to the U.S. and Europe. Perhaps that was one of the victims.

The severe cold hadn’t yet reached Korea, but it would soon.

“Ske-llton!”

Rebecca appeared at the stairs, her eyes bloodshot, looking worn out.

“What should I do? My friend Bob is dead...”

“...”

“Ske-llton?”

“When are you coming?”

“Oh, that’s...” Rebecca averted her gaze, clearly avoiding the question.

I understood her intention. She still wasn’t ready to leave.

People change their minds frequently, but sometimes it’s for the better.

“Next time.”

“There might not be a next time.”

“Why?”

“Because I might take someone else in.”

“Really?”

“Are things okay over there?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

As Rebecca turned her gaze away, Sue walked over to her and pinched her thigh.

“Sue! What are you doing?”

“Say the truth!”

Sue looked her mother straight in the eye and spoke sharply.

Rebecca slumped her shoulders, sighed, and looked at me.

“Actually, two weeks ago, we got some supplies.”

“Supplies?”

Rebecca nodded and directed Sue to fetch something.

Sue soon returned with a pile of cans in her arms.

“What’s this?”

“There was a trailer that had fallen on the outskirts of the village. It had been there for a while, but this time, Sue and I used a wrench and welding tools to open the door. And then...”

“You’re saying you hit the lotto, right?”

“Lotto? Yeah!”

I couldn’t tell how much of her story was true.

She might have found more supplies than I had, or perhaps just enough to survive a few weeks.

One thing was certain: unless she decided otherwise, she wasn’t leaving.

The real reason became clear soon after.

“...We got to know some U.S. soldiers,” Rebecca said, avoiding my gaze, speaking in a low voice.

“U.S. soldiers?”

“Yeah. While I was active on Viva! Apocalypse!, I found out there were U.S. soldiers here in Korea too. They’re camped out, and recently I made contact with them. When the weather clears, they’ll send some people this way.”

“Oh, really?”

Rebecca carefully nodded, glancing at me before looking at Sue, who was now sucking on something in a worried manner.

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“...I heard there are kids over there.”

“Kids.”

“I want to find some friends for Sue.”

Rebecca seemed apologetic.

As I looked at her, I quietly asked, “Fuel is running low, isn’t it?”

Rebecca’s blue eyes flickered slightly. She then gently gripped the fabric of her pants and lowered her head.

“...Yeah.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll send some fuel tomorrow. Just don’t shoot anything.”

It would be a lie to say I wasn’t feeling a bit disappointed.

Though the feeling of inconvenience was stronger, there had been some hope in living with an old neighbor again. But she had made her decision.

Objectively speaking, this might be the ideal outcome.

If the sniper mother-daughter duo could leave safely, without burdening my mind, maybe that would be the real lottery win.

Just as I was turning to leave, Rebecca suddenly leaned her forehead against my shoulder.

The weight on my shoulder felt lighter than I expected.

It wasn’t just her weight I felt, though.

I could sense her trembling, the heartbeat of her life, an indescribable sensation that flowed through her forehead and reached my body.

“...Meeting you, Skelton, has been a blessing. This kindness... I don’t know how to repay it.”

Her voice broke with emotion.

It was a bit surprising.

I never expected her to convey this much sincerity after all the hostility she had shown me.

“...”

For a brief moment, I felt something empty inside me fill up.

But it was fleeting.

“...Mom?”

Sue was staring at us! She was staring hard!

“What, are you saying you’re leaving already? She might misunderstand, so get your head off her and look away.”

I pushed Rebecca away and gave Sue a thumbs-up.

Sue smirked and gave me a thumbs-up in return.

As they were leaving, Sue said,

“Skelton, I hope you win that lottery.”

“I hope so too.”

The place where the lotto ticket was stuck was, of course, right next to Sue and my black sheet.

That means, the lottery I was talking about... I haven’t scratched it yet.