I Picked Up the Fallen Earth

Chapter 14



Chapter 14 A Lucky Day (1)

On the rooftop of the post office in the county town.

Jeron has been diligently scavenging the area for the past month.

He managed to score many finds here, and although there was a possibility to explore smaller villages, time was not infinite for Jeron. This led him to decide to move his farming spot.

Whooosh.

While the Farrow barony was entering summer, Earth’s weather was in early winter. The chilly weather made him instinctively pull his clothes tighter. Jeron, with his back to the brisk wind, unfolded a map.

Rustle!

This place was Seosan city, Eumyang county. When the moment of apocalypse neared, Jeron had taken his family and headed towards the sea from Seoul as their destination.

Going to Incheon seemed too crowded, so he thought Seosan would be a suitable location and thus headed west. He had hoped that if they could get a fishing boat at the sea, perhaps they could move to a safer uninhabited island.

The problem was that most people had the same idea. The docks were empty, and for what few boats remained, people killed and were killed in competition over them.

Unable to join such a competition because of his family, he drove straight to Eumyang county, which boasted two fairly large lakes. Ultimately, it wasn’t a bad decision. After all, they managed to survive here for several years.

“Sigh.”

Just setting foot on Earth triggered the PTSD submerged beneath the surface. Having lived 40 years on Earth and witnessing his family die, it would be strange indeed if he could remain composed.

Jeron shook off his emotions and scrutinized the map.

“If I head south, there’s a middle school, and further down, there’s an apartment complex in the county. To the southwest, there’s an agricultural industrial complex, which isn’t bad.”

Heading into downtown Seosan needed more consideration. There was no need to risk going into the city just yet. The first destination was the middle school.

Jeron wasn’t aiming to loot the school but the stationery store in front of it. In a devastated world, stationery stores weren’t the primary target of looting.

Supermarkets were looted first, and pens, paper, or other supplies were overlooked. Jeron figured that looting a few stationery stores could supply the goods needed for his trading guild.

The second destination was the agricultural industrial complex. Jeron was still lacking in viable seeds. Although the Farrow barony could bloom various colorful flowers not found in the Karel continent, they weren’t enough to become a main product.

It was essential to acquire seeds with resilient genes, bred and improved on Earth, to fundamentally improve the territory’s agriculture. Lastly, the bookstore. Knowledge might be the best item available on Earth.

It would be ideal to loot a library, but most libraries were located in the city. There was no need to risk venturing into the city prematurely, so he planned to take his time with it.

After setting his destinations, Jeron descended from the rooftop of the post office. He tied an empty backpack to the saddle of a bicycle he had prepared earlier.

Whooosh.

Then, he pedaled the bicycle for the first time in a while. Despite the sharp, biting wind that seeped through the gaps in his clothes, Jeron’s outfit was a well-known brand of mountaineering clothes.

The inner lining was coated with foil material, making him start to sweat soon. Jeron’s bicycle headed south on the national highway.

The highway was utterly unmaintained; asphalt was cracked, and weeds growing through were dying, but that was not a problem for the bicycle. The occasional signposts were half-tilted, and not a single bird flew around, adding to the silence.

Rustle! Rrrrustle!

Only the sound of pedals turning and the wind were chillingly perceptible on the road.As they left the jurisdiction, low mountains appeared and swayed on either side.

Every time a leaf fell and rustled, Jeron sharpened his senses. Until now, there had been no mutants in Eumyang County, but it was an uncertainty. If mutants appeared while he was biking, it could lead to a considerable crisis.

At the same time, he paid attention to the golden key, observing any absence of mana movement. If he couldn’t detect mana movement this month, he even considered asking the Count for help.

The reason Jeron was so concerned was that three hours per visit to Earth was far too short. Heading towards a middle school south of the county, Jeron didn’t forget to scout for houses suitable for farming.

A seemingly intact two-story house appeared in the distance. Jeron steered his bicycle left after descending for a while. Below the mountain, a neatly stacked stone wall was present, and further in, there was a small reservoir.

In places with reservoirs or valleys, survivors had lived for a long time. Given the challenges of securing drinking water in a devastated Earth, people presumably purified and drank water from valleys or reservoirs, and in very fortunate cases, some might find a house capable of generating electricity to pump groundwater.

A sturdy concrete fence surrounded the area, easily two meters high, and the gate was made of extremely strong material.

“Not bad,” Jeron mumbled, dismounting his bicycle and putting on his backpack. The gate was slightly open with a lot of blood smeared in the gap. Jeron hesitated for a moment, surveying the surroundings.

A chill ran down his spine. Up to now, he had only seen bloodstains that had dried and hardened long ago. However, the blood on the gate seemed to have been spilled only a few months ago—a significant difference.

“There surely are mutants in the city,” he thought. The fresh bloodstains indicated the possibility of survivors and that mutants still roamed the city.

Jeron became even more cautious. Click. He finished loading his sniper rifle and pushed his body through the gate. The yard, which appeared to be about 100 pyeong, was covered in grass that had turned into a pale brown color.

The fact that the grass was cut short indicated that someone had lived and managed the house until at least this summer. Bloodstains covered many parts of the fence, and human bones lay scattered about.

The sound of footsteps seemed unusually loud today. The wind that had been blowing stopped as well, halting the rustling of trees. The well-maintained two-story house had its windows shattered.

Before inspecting the interior of the home, Jeron decided to farm the storage first. As with many other storages he had seen, this one was hastily constructed with panels for walls and a slab for the ceiling.

Creaaak!

The loud metal sound made Jeron pause briefly.

“Phew.”

The mere fact that mutants had visited this place within months began to tense him up. Although he had encountered many monsters in the Karen Continent, the potential presence of mutants here was a significant source of PTSD.

The creature had torn him apart and devoured him alive; one could only imagine the horror of it. They had no way of estimating just how powerful those creatures had become.

Fortunately, it seemed there were no mutants in the vicinity. Entering the warehouse, they were surprised to find everything neatly arranged.

There were farming tools such as shovels, hoes, scythes, along with unused pots, pesticides, dried wires, and rubber tubs. Among other items, Jeron rejoiced at the sight.

It was a scene straight out of a pre-apocalypse farm storage, with all sorts of tools, nails, iron stakes, and plastic sheets that seemed somehow usable. Just as they had used a forge in the central district as their base camp, this place seemed like it could serve as another good base camp.

But before settling here, there was something to be done. Months ago, there had been strong evidence that the mutants might have headed to the city, so it seemed wise to climb the mountains and survey the surroundings with binoculars.

If lucky, they could find rice seeds scattered in the abandoned houses. This would mean there would be no need to venture as far as the agricultural complex.

After finishing his thoughts, Jeron took one more look around the warehouse. Garlic, onions, and ginger seeds were drying by the window.

“Good. Not bad at all,” he muttered, scouting the premises. He was on the lookout for better seeds. After rummaging for a while, he found a bag full of seed potatoes hidden in the deepest part of the warehouse among the onion nets.

“Ah!” Jeron could hardly contain his excitement.

He had spent so much effort searching for seeds for staple crops like rice and wheat, wishing for just one viable seed. Potatoes, once sown, could easily proliferate.

Just one could mean the creation of a field in a few years. Having bagged an entire net’s worth meant possible harvesting by fall. The harvested potatoes could all be used as seed potatoes to expand their numbers. It truly was a lucky day.

Indeed, it wasn’t just about sticking to safe places; expanding their farming territory was the answer. At this point, Jeron considered extending his farming area up to the middle school.

After collecting the seed potatoes, he started rummaging through the house. The residents had clung to life tenaciously and survived until relatively recently.

Therefore, there was a high chance that something was left behind. Indeed, there were signs of a struggle in the living room. Blood puddles had formed and solidified in a corner, trailing outwards.

It appeared the mutants had hunted a person here before dragging the body to the wall outside to feast. After a moment of silence, Jeron searched the kitchen cabinets.

“Hm.”

About 5kg of polished rice, a 1kg bag of flour, a few snacks, and canned goods. In a world that had fallen, having this much food was almost a miracle.

And the crowning touch: two bottles of Scotch whisky and a bottle of wine were neatly placed in a display case.

“The person who lived here must feel so wronged. To have gathered all these resources only to be attacked by a mutant.”

Jeron glanced at his watch inadvertently. He had been on Earth for 1 hour and 30 minutes. With half the time still remaining, there was no rush.

He packed the alcohol, seed potatoes, a few cans, and snacks into his backpack. Given their weight, the rice and flour would have to wait for another time. Jeron, with his backpack on, headed out the back door connected to the mountain and began his hike.

Climbing to a higher elevation to survey the surroundings was essential. Given the certainty that mutants had lived and swept through here months ago, scouting would become the most crucial part of their farming efforts.


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