I Picked Up the Fallen Earth

Chapter 25 A Man’s Diary

Jeron meticulously raided the stationery shop in front of the middle school. He even swept up hairpins and thumbtacks, which took some time. Whether or not the items could be sold would be determined by leader Becken.

While the items that would bring in a significant amount of money were limited, packaging them one by one could fetch a decent price.

Whooosh.

The cold wind mercilessly entered through the broken window, piercing through the room. He suddenly looked down at his right hand. A golden key, discolored to black.

The key hadn’t started blinking yet, but halting his activity was necessary given the amount of magic needed to transfer the backpack to the Karen continent. To Jeron, Earth was nothing short of a gold warehouse.

Everywhere he looked contained items necessary for the Karen continent. If unlimited activities were possible, he wouldn’t hesitate to bring over workers to even break and take the buildings’ cement, if not for the heavy weight of steel materials.

Staying any longer might mean leaving a backpack behind, so he reluctantly opened a dimensional door and returned to his room. The landscape changed in an instant.

If it was the dead of winter on Earth, then it was approaching summer on the Karen continent. Jeron felt the reality of his dimensional travel with the sudden rise in temperature. A deep sense of longing was felt.

He might have wanted to stay on Earth longer, knowing that training there was ten times more efficient. Jeron carefully stored today’s looted backpack on one side and pulled out a man’s diary.

The first page of the worn leather diary contained a family photo, torn halfway. A harmonious family of four. It seemed taken in a yard of a single-family home before the world perished, with well-laid grass on the ground.

Toys scattered all around were dizzying to the eye, but this photo was a treasure capturing the happiest times of the man’s life. Tucked in the diary’s sleeve was an identification card. Through it, Jeron learned the man’s name and age.

Yoon Sungsil

Resident Registration Number: 830507-1XXXXXX

Seoul, Gangnam-gu, Segok-dong XX-XX

“What a coincidence. He and I were the same age on Earth. And from Gangnam, at that. Even if it’s Segok-dong, such a house would have been at least 50 billion won.”

After the collapse of Earth, who wouldn’t feel wronged? But a man with a beautiful wife, lovely children, and considerable wealth – how unjust it must have felt.

The first page of the diary. The handwriting was remarkably neat, as if professionally corrected.

[Life in this shelter isn’t bad. Although we never know when those creatures might invade, the Seosan shelter is being managed well. We were able to supply weapons after a military supply vehicle overturned nearby, and by organizing a militia, we moved in an organized manner.

The world may have ended because of the mutants, but having my family with me gives my life enough meaning.

Only after the world declared its end did I realize what true happiness was.]

A life filled with hope. Eerily, it resonated with Jeron’s past life. In the early stages of the world’s demise, many families strived to survive, managing somehow to keep going.

While many gave up on life, the head of the families, especially those with their spouses and children still alive, exerted almost superhuman strength to continue living.

Happiness found in the apocalypse. The first half of the man’s diary was filled with stories of how they managed to survive, how they found the meaning of life, and how, even in this broken world, they were thankful for their happiness.

While Jeron didn’t find the world’s end itself something to be thankful for, the man, Yoon Sungsil, was as positive and diligent as his name suggested. This made him apprehensive about reading the middle section of the diary.

He had a rough idea of what might have happened.Mutants were not much of a threat when they were only slightly stronger than ordinary humans. The real trouble began when they started to emit a blue glow.

If they were evolving, it was during these glowing periods that they became significantly more powerful, with some individuals even able to deflect bullets.

In such cases, traditional weapons like arrows, swords, and spears proved more effective than firearms, as hitting a critical spot became almost a prerequisite for dealing damage.

Just yesterday, several members of the volunteer defense squad had fallen victim to them. The mutants were gradually encroaching on our territory.

There have already been deserters leaving the shelter, but they were either found partly mutilated the next day or disappeared without a trace, leaving us to assume they had been killed by the mutants.

“Just as I thought. So, it’s come to this.”

The evolution of the mutants had placed the entire shelter in a precarious situation. Jeron’s reading of survivors’ diaries served both as a connection to the lives of those who had lived in his era and as a reminder of his past life, but he also sought the bits of knowledge scattered throughout.

He was aware that mutants could use mana, thinking of it as a sort of buff, but he hadn’t realized they were employing it as a sort of shield.

Cold weapons were somewhat more effective, but facing such creatures and attempting to thrust a sword or spear into them was daunting. Even Jeron doubted if he could manage it.

As he delved deeper into the diary, he noticed it was stained with quite a bit of blood, the origin of which was entirely speculative. The number of survivors had halved. Everyone was trembling in fear, and food was running low.

It was then that Mr. Kang, who had majored in mechanical engineering and was skilled with machinery, created a mechanical crossbow using various materials found within the shelter, lending a glimmer of hope to those despairing.

He twisted wire strong enough to handle a ton into a bowstring and fitted the crossbow with mechanical components that made it easy to draw.

Inside, very small pulleys were organically connected, allowing the bowstring, which couldn’t be drawn by human strength alone, to be pulled back easily. He even designed it so that a battery would allow even a child to draw it.

Its piercing power was formidable, able to penetrate steel plates and proving highly effective in combat against the mutants. The mysterious blue aura emitted by the mutants proved futile against it.

The mechanical crossbow penetrated everything in its way, and we regained our confidence.

“Indeed!” Jeron exclaimed loudly. His interest in the survivors on Earth was precisely because of such ingenuity.

It was a harsh reality, but the weak would have perished, leaving only the strong, who surely would have honed various survival skills. Jeron himself was capable of making a simple bow, and with light materials for pulleys, he could even make a compound bow.

Human beings are bound to evolve to meet the demands of survival, especially so-called ‘Engineering Majors’ from STEM field backgrounds. Discovering such a survivor would be hitting the jackpot.

Of course, they would need to undergo thorough vetting for integrity, among other attributes, but having even one such person could dramatically elevate the status of his domain.

Indeed, the modern education system was remarkable. Most people on Earth had received over 20 years of education. Regardless of the university—whether it was prestigious or not—the fact that one had over 20 years of education was what mattered.

There were no proper schools in this primitive world, only personal tutors or lessons from parents; Earth-origin survivors hence felt like a tremendous pool of talent.

If someone had pursued a Ph.D., they were among those who had received education for over 25 years. By the standards of the Karen continent, that was more than half a lifetime spent in education.

Holding the diary, Jeron proceeded to make a somewhat hopeful analysis. Nearby enemies around the shelter had all been eradicated. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and crossbows were being produced every few days.

Believing themselves invincible due to being armed with over 20 crossbows, they had thought there was nothing to fear. However, it did not take long for them to realize how immense their arrogance had been.

The Great Invasion. Mutants swarmed into the city, each one stronger than the last. While the crossbows still proved useful, the creatures’ movements were too fast. Shelter fell in an instant, overwhelmed by dozens of these monsters.

[My wife died first. Then it was Boyoung, and lastly, Sechan.]

The traces of frantic scribbling were evident. In this man’s diary, which contained detailed accounts of the situation, the death of his family was reduced to a single line.

The tone of the diary changed abruptly. It was apparent from the handwriting that his nerves had become exceedingly frayed.

[I don’t deserve to be alive. I should have died with my family. Now that I’ve lost everyone I was close to and my family, wouldn’t it be normal to seek revenge and end it all? In the midst of the chaos, I accidentally fell and lost consciousness, which saved my life by chance.

The shelter had been overrun by mutants, and I escaped from there like a madman. Yes, I was a coward. Why couldn’t I take my own life? Do I have any worth living in this world, having lost everything?]

Utter turmoil. The man had contemplated suicide repeatedly, even attempting to hang himself, but the rope broke, and he could not die. He loathed himself for lacking the courage to die.

Jeron understood these feelings all too well, biting his lip in empathy. He, too, had felt the same way. While their circumstances differed, their psychological states matched that of the diary precisely.

Human beings don’t die easily. Those who commit suicide in desperate situations were mostly out of their minds. It was not easy to end one’s life in a sober state, and thus Jeron had lived on for years.

The man, having lost everything, wandered aimlessly. Aside from the occasional few lines when the thought struck him, the diary entries became sparse.

Finally, the last page. It was a letter to Jeron.

[If you are reading this diary, then I am probably dead by now. If you have survived this long, you might have faced even harsher challenges.

This morning, when I woke up, I suddenly thought it might be my last day. The reason I am leaving this letter is to make a shameless request. I’m leaving behind a map of the shelter.

I’ve tried reclaiming the shelter and burying the remains of my family and friends, but failed, leaving me to wander. If you find this diary, please, I beg you.

Gather the remains of my family and friends at the shelter. There should still be around 20 mechanical crossbows, which I believe will not be a loss for you.

I would be grateful to you even in death.]

“Sigh.”

Jeron took a deep breath. Through the diary, he had gained several pieces of information. In the end, he was given the location of a farming spot for mechanical crossbows, which surely had a value beyond rifles or pistols.

The man’s request was simply to gather the remains. This was undoubtedly a significant discovery and would greatly aid Jeron’s future endeavors. However, Jeron’s heart was heavy.

“May you find happiness there.”