I Picked Up the Fallen Earth

Chapter 33 Hajin Middle School (2)

Jeron emerged onto the bleak and frosty streets. The cold wind blowing between the buildings only added to the chill in his heart.

Was it due to the horrifying scene he had just witnessed? Although he was aware that Earth had transformed into such a dismal state, he was unaware that survivors still remained, and were being hunted.

The world had become far more brutal than during Jeron’s time on Earth. In front of the middle school. The patrol buses had been thoroughly stripped, their interiors left spotlessly empty, and the stationery store was no different.

Not a single item remained inside. The school gates were locked with iron chains. When the catastrophe began at the school, the government must have deemed it beyond redemption.

An infantry unit was dispatched to prevent the mutants trying to escape but failed to subdue them. These processes were vividly imprinted in his mind. Jumping over the locked gate wasn’t particularly difficult.

He tossed his backpack over first and then leaped over the gate himself, landing on the other side. A desolate playground stretched out before him. Like any other school, maple trees were planted around the perimeter of the playground, under which fallen leaves tumbled around.

In this broken world, only the plants seemed to stand firm. The playground was filled with mummies, their bodies cleaved in half as they tried to escape. Recent corpses were nowhere to be seen. Most of the mummies were people who had died in the initial chaos.

From the perspective of the mutants, the early days of the disaster were a feast with food scattered everywhere. That led to many cases where only the entrails were eaten, leaving many dead with their abdomens cleanly emptied.

Beyond the playground, a parking lot came into view. The parking lot was in complete disarray. Cars had tried to flee, resulting in smashed front windows and overturned vehicles, some of which had crashed into the classrooms connected to the exterior.

There were three main buildings in the school. One was the main building, another the annex, and then there was the auditorium. It was highly unlikely for there to be a library within the auditorium.

Where could the school library be? Jeron did not know. Sometimes the library was in the main building, other times in the annex. In such times, it was best to start searching from the main building.

Who knows, useful items might be waiting to be found there. The entrance to the main building was supposed to have glass doors, but now their form was unrecognizable. Shattered glass on the floor was the only proof that the main building’s entrance once existed.

Entering the building, trophy display cases were seen on both sides, shattered, with trophies strewn about. Wall photos from the school’s early days until now were displayed, with the national flag among them.

The flag and the photos around it were relatively intact, preserved in areas untouched by human hands. Following the foyer, there was a central staircase, with a wall clock fallen and sprawled beside it.

On the first floor to the left were the teachers’ office, the principal’s office, and the vice-principal’s office, while on the right were the science lab, the health room, and the audio-visual room.

Jeron paused as he was about to head to the second floor. While the state of the teachers’ office was unknown, the health room might contain medical supplies like first aid kits and medicines.

Of course, it wasn’t guaranteed. To Jeron’s knowledge, the area had been completely looted, making it difficult to find food. In a destroyed Earth, medical supplies were as crucial as food, to the extent that they were exchanged for one another.

Still, with some luck, he might find aspirin, painkillers, or antiseptics. The health room’s door was half-broken and hanging loosely. Inside, two beds were placed, and on them lay mummies with their abdomens emptied, dead.Everywhere, there were clear signs of resistance.

In a corner of the room, a mummy in a white gown stared into the void. This mummy must have been the school nurse. Judging by the body, it was definitely a woman, her one hand still clutching medical scissors. Jeron quickly surveyed the surroundings.

Nothing was left on the medicine shelves. No first aid kit, not even a single common painkiller in sight. Indeed, people’s thoughts converged on similar needs. If Jeron had thought to find medications here, others must have had the same idea.

Every visitor to the school likely stopped by the nurse’s office. Still, he searched for anything usable. On the desk, he spotted medical scissors and a knife.

Not a bad find. On the Karen Continent, sharp scissors were rare indeed. He tucked the scissors and knife into his backpack and scanned the surroundings more thoroughly. It was likely that survivors had already picked over anything visible, so he had to sift through the debris for anything useful.

Had no one thought to search the body? The school nurse in the white gown had disinfectant in her pocket. He also grabbed a stethoscope and found two bundles of bandages in the pocket.

“Not a bad haul.”

There were no antibiotics or painkillers like aspirin, but this was still an excellent collection. Jeron left the nurse’s office and headed back to the central staircase. Halfway up, the path split in both directions.

The staircase was unusually filled with corpses. Mummies were entangled and rolling around, the walls smeared with blood. It seemed like many had tried to flee but were massacred here. He stepped over and, at certain points, on the mummies as he climbed.

There were that many corpses on the staircase. Reaching the second floor, classrooms for first-year students extended on both sides.

“Classrooms.”

Was there anything to “farm” from the students? It was worth checking out. Jeron entered a classroom marked 1-1. Desks and chairs were piled up near the entrance. The windows were shattered as a standard, revealing signs of a mass massacre inside.

Countless mummies were half-draped out the windows, likely trying to escape. It was a tragedy Jeron had observed through his binoculars from afar, but it was even more horrifying up close. At the back of the classroom, students’ photos and numbers were lined up with a prominently featured moral.

[The teacher is watching you.]

Jeron let out a smirk. It was comforting to see Korean, and that single phrase alone gave a glimpse into the usual atmosphere of the classroom. Jeron decided to take a look at the lockers.

Inside, notebooks and textbooks, gym clothes made up the majority. Most of the items were messily scattered around. This indicated that survivors had rummaged through here. Even so, not everything was useless.

“Writing tools and notebooks are excellent items.”

Viscount Revion had lavished high praise upon the pen.

[“The pen is a revolution in writing instruments! To think of storing ink inside and utilizing it in this manner? Inserting a miniature steel ball at the tip to roll and release ink – this is beyond human craftsmanship.”]

Initially adopting a high-end strategy, as more nobles started purchasing, the sales strategy gradually expanded to a wider market. Among them, the fountain pen might even reach auction prices. This made it impossible not to farm for writing instruments.

Jeron poured his efforts into farming for writing instruments by casually making his rounds through the classrooms. It seemed that the survivors had not paid much attention to pencil cases either.

Upon farming a second-year classroom after moving up to the third floor, he discovered something peculiar inside a pencil case.

“This is huge.”

It was an MP3 player and a mobile phone. Under normal circumstances, he would have discarded them, for without a means to charge them, they were nothing more than trash. But inside the pencil case was a solar charger.

Jeron’s body trembled slightly. During his travels around Earth, there had been moments of nostalgia, but there were hardly any means to feel the remnants of civilization. What about the MP3 player?

He wasn’t sure how many songs it contained, but it would allow him to listen to music from Earth. Since it was a small solar charger, it might take some time to charge, but the fact that he could listen to music was what mattered.

The mobile phone also appeared to be in working order. If luck was on his side, movies or similar content might be stored on the phone. While he used to stuff writing instruments carelessly, this time was different. Jeron carefully stored the pencil case containing the MP3 player, mobile phone, and charger in his backpack, as if it were a precious relic.

Class 2-3. While the windows of other classrooms were all shattered and many doors were smashed in, this one was different. It was clean without a single corpse, and on one side, there were traces of someone having lived there. Above all, the chalkboard had the following message written on it:

[“Yujeong, Dad is heading to the industrial complex. This area is dangerous, so if you find this message, come to the industrial complex immediately. -From Dad, who loves you.”]

It was a trace of a survivor. From the dust accumulation, it seemed the survivor hadn’t left that long ago. The industrial complex was exactly where Jeron planned to head next.

In a world where survival depended on distrusting humans, could he trust a father who showed immense love for his daughter?

“No, that’s a stereotype.”

It was uncertain if the survivor was still living in the industrial complex, but if they were, caution was warranted. Jeron thoroughly inspected the place where the survivor had lived. There was no canned food or anything to eat, but empty cans rolled around noisily.

It seemed someone had lived here for at least a month, given the traces. There were signs of a fire being made in the classroom. It might have been risky at night, but during the day, it was probably safe to light a fire as long as the classroom door was left open.

Besides, Jeron looked down at the drawings scattered on the floor. There were many drawings that seemed to be of family photos and of a girl, all of which were quite good. As Jeron was about to stand up, he suddenly paused at the sight of a sketch.

“What is this!?”

He couldn’t help but exclaim aloud. It appeared to be a very detailed design for a crossbow. The design was full of scribbles as if it were a failed attempt and was partially burnt, but it was undoubtedly a mechanical crossbow’s design. Connecting several pieces of information, Jeron deduced the identity of the man.

“Blacksmith Kang?”