Encounter.
The following day, early dawn.
The man sleeping inside the burrow suddenly shifted.
Woojin, blinking his eyes open groggily, stared blankly into the empty air.
"…I slept well."
He had woken from a deep, dreamless sleep.
It had been so long since he'd rested like this that he felt almost unsettled. It truly felt like real rest.
For the past twelve years, Woojin had never once gained rest through sleep.
Sleep had merely been a means of traveling between two worlds—dream and reality. Normally, the moment he fell asleep, he would return to the real world and prepare to go to work.
But yesterday, the Woojin of the real world had died.
With nowhere for his consciousness to return, it seemed he had finally been able to fall into a deep sleep.
"Should I be happy about this… or sad?"
It was, in effect, a death sentence.
Yet after sleeping soundly for the first time in ages, his condition felt excellent. Realizing that he had lost reality in exchange for this comfort left him with a strange feeling.
Better to think positively.
Having reached that rough conclusion, Woojin crawled toward the entrance of the burrow. He stretched out his hand and pushed aside the shield blocking the opening. The chilly dawn air brushed against his face.
Stepping outside, he peeled off the mud and dried moss he had spread over the shield.
Burrows easily become targets for other predators.
That was why Woojin had blocked the entrance with a dirt-covered shield. It prevented beasts from entering and camouflaged the shelter so it blended into the surroundings.
After kicking away any traces of his stay, Woojin slung his pack over his shoulder.
"Let's get moving."
As always, he headed aimlessly toward areas with thinner shade—seeking land safer than this place, perhaps even land that might hold hope.
Thanks to his deep sleep, his body felt light as a feather. He almost wanted to hum, but making unnecessary noise was unwise, so he restrained himself.
And so Woojin walked, and walked again—until the place he had left behind vanished beyond the horizon.
"…I'm getting a bit hungry."
After walking on an empty stomach for some time, hunger began to creep in. Might as well eat something.
He sat down roughly on the dirt ground.
Rummaging through his pack, he took out the leftover food from yesterday—a roasted bat wing—and tore off a bite.
"…Tougher than the part I ate yesterday."
The membrane of the bat's wing was incredibly tough.
It felt like chewing seaweed stems, and the many small bones made it difficult to eat. Even so, it was precious food, hard to obtain.
Crunch, crunch.
Woojin carefully chewed and swallowed even the tiny bone fragments. It felt like eating dog treats. Still, the more he chewed, the nuttier the flavor seemed to become.
While wrestling with the bat wing, he suddenly heard a faint presence nearby.
"What is it?"
Instinctively gripping the handle of his knife, he turned his head.
There, wandering around him, was a dog.
A large dog covered in red fur. From its back sprouted two long tentacles. At the ends of those tentacles were bone fragments as large and sharp as wild boar tusks.
"So it's just a wild dog."
Woojin simply called beasts like that wild dogs. Their habits and behavior were not very different from ordinary dogs.
Sure, they had tentacles growing from their backs and were somewhat more aggressive than normal dogs… but even so, compared to many creatures in this world, they were rather cute.
"…Hungry, are you?"
The wild dog's eyes were fixed intently on the bat wing in Woojin's hand.
Normally, Woojin would have ignored that stare and continued eating. But after such deep sleep, he was in a good mood today—good enough to share his daily rations.
"Here, eat."
He tore the bat wing lengthwise and tossed it over.
The wild dog buried its nose into the meat and sniffed. Then it put it into its mouth and chewed a few times.
Ptui.
The wild dog spat the bat wing out.
It stared briefly at the piece of meat on the dirt, then turned its head away as if rejecting it outright—its attitude clearly saying that such a thing was not food.
Woojin was momentarily speechless.
"…What?"
That bastard.
Just as he was about to say something, the wild dog rose and leisurely disappeared into the forest.
Left alone, Woojin stared blankly at the bat wing.
Even a dog rejected this…
Have I been eating food worse than dog feed all this time?
He felt slightly dizzy.
Still, throwing away precious food was out of the question. Woojin chewed and swallowed the remaining bat wing.
"…Time to move."
Having forced himself to finish without appetite, he stood up. Slinging his pack over his shoulder again, he resumed walking.
The mountain slope was quite steep. On top of that, the ground was covered in fallen leaves and moss, making it easy to slip. Because of that, Woojin had to place each step carefully.
Then—
"What's this?"
Woojin suddenly stopped.
The fallen leaves ahead were piled up unnaturally in a swollen mound.
Something about it felt wrong.
He nudged a pebble at his feet with a light kick. The pebble rolled forward and disturbed the mound of leaves.
Snap!
A pair of serrated jaws bit down on empty air.
It was a bear trap triggered by stepping on it.
"I almost injured my ankle."
But that wasn't what mattered.
Woojin stared intently at the trap on the ground.
A bear trap made of iron.
The metallic sheen was clear. There was no rust, no mold—an object that had clearly been maintained consistently.
The implication was obvious.
"…It belongs to another survivor."
Woojin's eyes sharpened.
His feelings were strange—something between confusion and exhilaration.
He had considered the possibility that there might be other survivors in this world.
But this was the first time he had come face to face with proof.
"What should I do?"
Woojin sank into thought.
There were two choices.
Leave this place—
Or search the area and try to find the owner of the trap.
Choosing the latter would be quite dangerous.
In apocalypse films and the like, survivors of catastrophe are often portrayed as beings just as wicked as the monsters themselves.
Though mere fiction, Woojin found the portrayal somewhat persuasive. To survive in a world like this, one would have to abandon one's humanity.
"…It's risky, but I should at least try."
It was the first trace of another person he had ever found. Pretending not to see it and walking away didn't sit right with him.
Having reached that conclusion, Woojin began searching the surrounding area. He tracked human traces left upon the ground and within the natural environment. The process proved harder than expected.
"They've laid traps everywhere."
The deeper he followed the footprints into the forest, the more frequently they appeared. It felt like stepping into a minefield. Woojin's gaze grew busier, scanning constantly for hidden traps.
"So many… This must've taken a lot of work."
Setting and maintaining traps was labor in itself.
If too much time passed, moss and mold would accumulate, and the traps would lose functionality. Wild animals could also tamper with or damage them.
Why install so many?
It didn't seem to be for hunting. None of the visible traps had bait, and clustering traps densely in one area was inefficient for that purpose.
"Maybe they're meant to keep someone like me from intruding."
If that had been the intention, then it had failed.
Traps meant to drive away intruders had instead drawn the attention of someone who might have otherwise passed by quietly.
A worn-down cabin came into view.
A brick house nestled among gray trees. Dark, ashen vines crept along the walls, nearly engulfing the entire structure.
Around the house, several wild dog hides were spread across racks. Judging by the look of them, they were tanned skins left out to dry.
"…I don't sense anyone."
Either the owner was away, or perhaps taking a nap.
Woojin armed himself. Gripping his shield in one hand and his machete in the other, he approached the cabin. Stopping before the front door, he hesitated briefly.
"Should I knock?"
On second thought, whether he knocked or not, the other party likely wouldn't welcome him.
So he simply grasped the doorknob.
Creeeak—
With a grim, eerie sound, the door opened. The cabin wasn't very large, allowing him to take in the interior at a glance.
"No one's here."
Woojin leisurely surveyed the room.
The building was crumbling, and the inside reflected that. Dust lay scattered across the floor, and cobwebs stretched into every corner of the ceiling.
On a worn sofa lay a folded, dull-colored blanket. The depressed cushioning suggested the owner had been using it as a makeshift bed.
Something placed near the head of that shabby sofa caught Woojin's attention.
"…A book?"
It was thick—nearly the volume of an encyclopedia. Picking it up, Kim Woojin read the title on the cover.
[Travelogue of the Demonic Realm by Yurgis.]
The word "Demonic Realm" in the title seemed to refer to the very environment Woojin had been living in all this time.
"…What could be inside?"
His eyes bore into the cover.
The countless questions he had harbored while enduring nightmares—perhaps their answers lay within these pages.
The thought made him want to open the book and read it immediately.
But now was not the time.
A guest had arrived outside.
Strictly speaking, Woojin was the guest and the other man the homeowner—but what mattered was that they had become aware of each other's presence.
"Come out. Let's see what kind of bastard you are."
A gruff male voice called out.
In response, Woojin tossed the book back onto the sofa and stepped outside.
An old man holding a bow stared at him.
His white hair was unkempt, sticking out wildly, and the clothes wrapped around his body were crudely stitched from animal hides.
Coincidentally, Woojin's own appearance wasn't much different. As they glared at each other, they resembled two wild beasts facing off.
"Lie flat on the ground. Obey, and I'll treat you like a person."
The old man aimed his bow as he spoke. The arrow nocked on the string glinted ominously.
Yet Woojin did not grow particularly tense at the threat. Instead, he felt intrigued. It was his first time speaking with another human in this world—there was something refreshing about it.
He studied the face of his counterpart carefully.
"His complexion isn't good."
The old man looked pale, as though something were physically wrong.
"…Sir, let's keep this amicable. You don't seem to be in perfect condition."
Woojin spoke as if offering a favor.
Perhaps amused by his attitude, the corner of the old man's mouth curled upward.
"What a novel fellow. Boy, do you not realize whose hand your life rests in right now?"
"Don't worry. I've got a firm grip on my own lifeline."
As he spoke, Woojin raised the shield in his left hand demonstratively. If the man showed signs of firing, he intended to charge forward with the shield in front.
The old man snorted dismissively.
"And what do you plan to do if I do this?"
Kiiiiing—
A piercing noise rang in the air.
The arrowhead began glowing red, like iron heated in a forge.
"Oh…"
Woojin observed the arrowhead with curious eyes.
Even at a glance, the light was anything but ordinary. Did humans in this world possess such peculiar abilities?
It wasn't all that surprising.
"…It's not like I'm any different."
What Kim Woojin trusted was not his shield—
but the power he himself possessed.