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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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The sweet vacation ended, and we immediately started preparing in earnest to explore the dungeon.
We salted the hydra meat to make cured meat, dried fish to make dried fish flakes, and picked and dried all the edible fruits.
It was a continuous process of drying, pickling, smoking, and preserving.
And…
“This is fascinating. Does this really turn into alcohol?”
“Probably.”
I vaguely remembered seeing it on X-Tube a long time ago, so I tried making it, but I wasn’t sure if it would actually work. Still, I cut up the fruits as I remembered, soaked them in water, and added the precious honey I had obtained from the forest instead of sugar. Honestly, I had no idea if this would really turn into alcohol.
I had never brewed alcohol before, so I was just throwing things together based on what I could recall.
However, if it succeeded, it would be a big help.
The existence of a long-term preserved beverage was essential in situations where hydration couldn’t be supplied.
We were in a situation where we had to bring a lot of water with us, as we didn’t even know if there was a place to replenish water inside the dungeon. However, water had a surprisingly short shelf life.
It’s not for nothing that there’s an idiom saying stagnant water is bound to rot.
At most, it was likely to spoil within 2-3 days, and even that could spoil faster depending on the dungeon’s environment. For now, the guys popping out from there were slow, but their numbers were terrifyingly high. I didn’t know how zombies were created in a place without people, but could it be a system like the dungeons that appeared in the old web novels I read a long time ago?
Since there was even a status window, it couldn’t be denied that such a system might actually exist.
A system where they respawned inside the dungeon.
“How long will it take?”
“We need to test it for at least a week.”
It could take longer, but I heard that fruit wine could be drunk in a week, so a week should be enough. Anyway, the smell would be evident, so we could just sniff it.
“Alright.”
Renny’s voice, as she kept talking to me, couldn’t hide her anticipation.
Does she like alcohol?
Did I… like it?
It had been 10 years since I last had a drink.
I didn’t even know if I liked alcohol or not anymore.
I had a faint memory of drinking with friends, but it was a memory so faded that the color had washed out.
What color was the soju bottle… The soju bottle?
Blue? Green? Was it transparent?
I couldn’t remember.
What did alcohol taste like?
If the alcohol was really made, I would find out.
I stopped thinking and meticulously sealed the alcohol container with a cloth I had prepared.
Brewing alcohol wasn’t bad, but I couldn’t keep holding onto this the whole time.
I had to check if the fruits laid out in the sun to dry were drying well, make tools from the hydra’s bones in a luxurious manner, and snap the necks of the rabbits that would be swarming like rats soon. It was a continuous series of bothersome tasks, but I had to do them to survive.
There was no welfare here.
“Johann, if the alcohol is opened…”
“I got it, so go to work.”
How thirsty are you for alcohol?
Seeing Renny’s somewhat excited footsteps made me chuckle. Renny would be the first to taste it. She was sturdy, so even if something went wrong, she wouldn’t die. Even if she collapsed from it going wrong, we had a flower, no, Karina, who could turn someone on the brink of death from being soaked in drugs back to normal.
This is why you need to graduate from medical school.
There’s no profession more welcomed anywhere than a doctor.
…Having peace of mind brings all sorts of strange thoughts.
Enough with the idle thoughts, let’s move swiftly.
Now it was time to check the condition of the dried fruits and snap the necks of the lovely and cute rabbits in the rabbit field.
I left the storage room and headed towards the forest after checking the fruits that were slowly drying in the front yard.
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Phew, today was another rewarding day.
I gulped down the broth of the soup, where whole rabbits that had been neatly trimmed were boiled until tender. The savory and slightly salty broth flowed down my throat, warming my body. And as I scooped up the meat with a spoon and chewed it, the fatigue that had built up all day instantly vanished. Food was indeed the best.
Especially when someone else made it for you.
“Would you like some more?”
I couldn’t answer with food in my mouth, so I nodded my head. Karina smiled brightly, took the bowl I handed her, filled it with soup, and returned it to me.
“What about Renny?”
“I’ll serve myself.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll serve you, Renny.”
It was really amusing to see Renny’s flustered expression whenever this happened.
She was strangely strong against attacks but weak to being attacked, so to speak. I emptied my second bowl, using Renny’s embarrassed expression as she received the bowl as a side dish.
“Since I’m done eating, I’ll stop by the workshop for a bit.”
“Okay. See you later!”
Why did those words sound so pleasant to hear?
Indeed, people shouldn’t live alone. At the very least, you should draw a face on a volleyball and live with it. Anyone who says, “I like being alone!” while living on a deserted island is nothing but a madman. If you live alone, you either go crazy and become a madman or die before going crazy. It’s one of the two.
I at least made air friends and had conversations with them.
“Although it’s still talking to myself.”
Yes, in the end, it’s talking to myself.
Asking and answering myself. Making jokes that don’t even work. If you don’t at least throw jokes at yourself that don’t work, you can’t endure the loneliness. How many times did I think about suicide during those 10 years?
I used to think it would be better to take my own life before I grew old and sick, before I lost the strength to die by my own hand.
“I’m glad I stayed alive for 10 years…”
Tears welled up involuntarily. Thinking about the hardships I had endured, I could say I was in heaven now. I had no regrets even if I died now… No, I should at least see the outside of the deserted island before dying. I should at least see the world outside this island. If I leave here, I might be able to see the world of Survival Academy that I occasionally thought about.
…The problem is that it’s a world destined for destruction.
“Should I do some work?”
I looked down at the hydra’s bones placed on the workbench. The hydra’s canine tooth. I wasn’t sure if it was really a canine tooth, but I called it that for convenience. I was going to make a weapon with it.
“Crafting.”
The huge canine tooth, as long as my arm, deformed like clay, taking shape. Since it was originally a massive tooth, it seemed like it would take quite some time to transform. I crossed my arms and leisurely watched the process of the canine tooth changing shape.
I had to fine-tune it to shape it the way I wanted.
After about 5 minutes, the canine tooth had turned into a somewhat, no, quite clumsy-looking shovel.
The handle was lumpy, and the blade wasn’t straight. The handle part was so jagged that it looked like it would tear your hand if you grabbed it.
As expected, it was difficult to complete it in one go.
“Crafting.”
A little,
“Crafting.”
A little more…
After using the skill a total of five times, it finally resembled the shovel I used to use. Although it had grown a bit larger…it was within the acceptable range.
“…Should I test it out?”
How could I not test it after making a new weapon? I immediately left the workshop and walked towards the boundary line of my territory, which now only served as a defensive line.
“…I think I need to clean up the zombies wandering around the forest before exploring the dungeon.”
Even though I had blocked the dungeon entrance with acidic poison and swept them away once, they were knocking on the outer wall again. Are their noses still alive? How do they find their way here like ghosts?
Come to think of it, how did these bastards get all the way here and knock on the wall?
The dungeon and this place weren’t close, and I wasn’t making any noise, so why were they knocking on the wall and going crazy? It’s not like zombies had a keen sense of smell like dogs. I couldn’t figure out the reason at all. It was as if they knew of my existence and came to mess with me…
…Wait a minute.
Those zombies… Come to think of it, they all looked similar.
They looked like monsters spawned in a game. I had been so busy surviving for 10 years that I belatedly noticed the sense of discomfort and stopped to ponder.
The bear leader.
The hydra spawn.
The zombies inside the dungeon.
Could there be an intelligent being inside that dungeon, comparable to the hydra? Could it be sending zombies here continuously? Then it would make sense for the zombies to walk from a distance that takes nearly an hour, fall into traps, and the survivors stubbornly knocking on the wall.
It was a question I had never thought of before.
“…I should catch one or two of those noisy bastards at night and dissect them.”
If I dissect them, I might find some clues.
It felt unpleasant to dissect something that used to be human, not an animal, but I still had to do what needed to be done. Anyway, I was used to dismembering corpses as part of my daily life. If I think of it as an extension of that, it’s not strange at all.
“This damn island keeps bringing new things with every wave.”
I let out a deep sigh and adjusted my grip on the shovel.
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