I Picked Up the Fallen Earth

Chapter 23 Confrontation (2)

The moment he killed the mutant, his stay duration increased by 30 minutes. Jeron, connected spiritually with the golden key, instinctively realized this. Although 30 minutes seemed insignificant, it was a remarkable advancement.

Up until now, he had been preoccupied with fleeing, but discovering that hunting could rapidly strengthen him was a revelation. What would happen if he could create a mana hole and learn even 1st circle magic?

His heart began to race. Despite magic’s decline in an era of decay, its long history had given birth to numerous kinds of magic—buffs, attacks, and methods to obstruct opponents.

He believed using them in conjunction with swordsmanship would be incredibly efficient.

“If things go on like this, I might be able to form a mana hole within a month.”

Jeron had advanced to a new level. He discovered that killing mutants reset his stay duration, a real high-risk, high-return hunting method, proving he could grow stronger over time. Jeron suppressed his excitement for a moment and caught his breath.

Then, he surveyed outside the dimensional gate. Knowing life forms couldn’t penetrate the dimensional gate gave him confidence that utilizing it for hunting was entirely feasible.

Around 30 minutes passed, but the eerie Earth only had howling winds blowing. Jeron grabbed his equipment and crossed the dimensional gate.

Whoooosh.

The chill wind made him instinctively close his coat tighter. While his eyes captured the same landscape as before, his heightened senses due to mana absorption allowed him to perceive a completely changed world.

At least, he could tell there wasn’t any being targeting him within dozens of meters. Deciding to keep the dimensional gate open, he briefly scoped the surroundings.

It was possible that other mutants appeared following the sound of gunfire, and there might be other survivors watching him. Fortunately, no traces of mutants were observed.

It was somewhat disappointing not to find any survivors. If there were any on Earth, he thought about bringing them to his estate for practical uses, although verification was necessary.

Jeron quickly scanned the surroundings with his scope. He could feel he was getting closer to the urban center. Overturned vehicles had multiplied, and more mummies were present, with human bones scattered across the streets so frequently they were rolling around.

Buildings were destroyed here and there, with signs of a massive gas explosion in the city due to the particularly prevalent scorch marks. Jeron first moved towards a supermarket near an apartment.

Descending from the rooftop of the shops, he carefully walked on the broken asphalt, keeping his guard up more relaxedly than before. Recalling the dead man he encountered previously, it confirmed that mutants possessed some level of intelligence.

As the cold wind seeped through his clothes, Jeron’s eyes frequently shifted to the rooftops. The sight of mutants leaping across buildings while chasing the man was shockingly vivid.

Jeron arrived at the spot where the man had died. The severed head, having flown some distance, lay in the middle of the broken pavement, with his upper body ripped apart, leaving only legs. Scattered flesh and bloodstains painted a horrific scene.

Jeron collected the man’s body. Having spent 18 years in a barbaric medieval era, he hadn’t lost all of his modern sensibilities.

This man had indirectly helped him decapitate a mutant’s head, making it comparatively easier to kill the creature and absorb its mana. Though Jeron had no direct contact with survivors, the indirect help was reason enough to respectfully handle the corpse.Jeron quickly made a grave and paused for a moment of silence.

“May you find peace in the next world.”

The dead are dead, and the living must live. Jeron pulled out the man’s belongings from his backpack. The backpack contained a water bottle, a single blanket, a small pot with its bottom severely scorched, an alcohol lamp, a map, and a telescope.

Not a single item of food was found. It was a scene that made it all too understandable why the man had been risking his life wandering about. Jeron unfolded the map that came from the man’s backpack.

Centered around an apartment, the map detailed a radius of approximately 3 kilometers with meticulous investigation. It showed where the mutations were sighted, the locations they frequented, and their main hunting grounds.

It was evidence of a relentless game of hide and seek. Basic information about the downtown area was also marked. Jeron was quite surprised as he looked at the spots marked in red.

In the downtown area of Soseon, a mutant was living every 1 to 2 kilometers. The hypothesis Jeron had been considering fit perfectly. The mutants had ravaged the countryside villages and moved to the city as their food sources dwindled.

Although the map was quite worn and it was uncertain if this structure still held, it was significant information for Jeron. A notebook and a pen also tumbled out of the backpack. Jeron was eager to open the notebook right away, but he shoved it back into the backpack.

He had taken time to tend to the man’s body for a good reason. The diary could be viewed after crossing into the Karen continent. Among the concrete debris, there was also a pistol that the man had been holding.

The trigger was caught on a finger, which was severed while still gripping the pistol tightly. It was a sign of how desperately the man had held onto the pistol.

From this, Jeron could surmise the intelligence of the mutants. The mutants, which had been hunting humans on Earth for a long time, must have learned through their companions’ deaths how threatening this object called a pistol could be.

Hence, they seemed to have cut off the man’s hand first upon ambushing him, then decapitated him. Only after prying off each finger did the pistol come into their possession. There were three bullets in the revolver.

It wasn’t ideal, but if there ever came a day to visit a police station, he could replenish the ammunition. This was enough for now. Jeron, feeling somewhat disappointed with his loot, turned his gaze towards the supermarket the man had intended to visit.

With the world having ended some time ago, there was doubt about whether there would be anything worth consuming in the supermarket. Yet, the fact that the man had headed here suggested that the nearby food sources had been exhausted.

[Joyful Mart]

The severely damaged sign was barely recognizable. The shutter was half down, but the entrance window was completely shattered. The kiosk at the entrance had long been destroyed, barely maintaining its form, and the inside of the supermarket was a complete mess.

However, due to all the glass windows being broken, sunlight streamed in well, allowing for a clear view of the inside. Like the outside, the counters inside had lost their functionality, with a significant portion of the supermarket having collapsed due to the back of the building falling in.

Every edible item had been cleaned out. Not even a single pack of gum remained. The man who died in front of the supermarket must have been searching through the rubble for even a single chocolate bar.

As Jeron had always thought, there wasn’t much left in the supermarket worth scavenging. Even the general goods had been mostly taken. The only items left were soap, toothpaste, dishwashing detergent, laundry detergent, and fabric softener.

“Soap and toothpaste.”

Jeron diligently scooped them all up. He was about to start running a trading post. Any item originating from Earth would fetch a high price when sold by Verken, so it made sense to take as many lightweight items as possible.

Especially soap.This was an item that almost always made an appearance in novels about the development of territories. Of course, unlike other clichés, Jeron had not gone so far as to think of making soap himself.

After all, proper concepts of hygiene were not well-established in the real world. Still, as a strategy to upscale, selling to nobles or placing it in bathhouses would help with hygiene.

As Jeron meticulously swept items into his cart inside the mart, he discovered an energy bar lying in a corner under a collapsed display stand.

Seemingly endured being unnoticed amid the trash heap until now. The man must have hoped for such finds visiting the mart. Given that mutants were active in the area, risking his life to come here must have been driven by the dire need for food.

“A chocolate bar for me, who isn’t desperate for food. What an irony.”

Having finished his scavenging, Jeron moved on. The area around the apartment, where many people seemed to have lived, was utterly pick clean. The basic scavenging items would probably be better off in a rural farmhouse.

Time wasn’t on Jeron’s side, so he decided to check near a middle school first to see if there was a suitable place to establish as his base camp. Near the middle school.

Jeron moved very cautiously, remembering the lesson the man had given him earlier. Mutants were no longer a potential threat but a definite one. The closer he got to the city, the likelihood of encountering them increased.

Though the likelihood was low for mutants who ventured into the city to return to the countryside, one could never be too sure what the human condition might bring. If every survivor in the city perished, they might head back to the countryside.

Climbing to the rooftop of a building, Jeron reassessed the middle school and its surroundings. Especially the school. There could be survivors inside, in which case, it would definitely be a hunting ground for mutants.

It was a mere assumption, but being cautious could never hurt. Despite everything being exactly as it was during his last visit, the view through a high-quality telescope felt different than through a scope from afar.

This time, he could even make out the color of the bloodstains. The dark, crimson stains seemed to not have been there for more than a few months. Indeed, the mass migration of mutants to the city had not been long ago.

Reexamining the school, he noticed many bodies dressed not in school uniforms but in casual wear scattered beyond the windows. Bodies half-hanging through the windows.

There were many mummies, but quite a few bodies looked relatively fresh, having decayed and then frozen. The brigade bus was still blocking the school gate, and the fancy shop looked relatively intact from the outside.

That was enough. Having confirmed the absence of both survivors and mutants, all that was left was to establish a base camp.Jeron scouted for candidates. There was a relatively clean building near the school.

The windows from the first to the third floor were all shattered, but those on the fourth floor were covered by something resembling shutters. If there were any survivors in the vicinity, that place looked like the only option.

If it was empty, it wouldn’t be a bad choice for a hideout, he figured. Jeron carefully approached the building. The first to the third floors presented a grisly scene. Torn human fragments were everywhere.

Fortunately, it was winter and everything was frozen solid, but in summer, the smell alone would make it difficult to pass by. The walls were plastered with a copious amount of dried blood.

An unusually large number of people had died. Even Jeron judged the building to be safe, so the earth’s survivors must have thought the same. As soon as the mutants appeared, survivors would have flocked to the building, turning it into a joyous hunting ground for them.

Step by step, leaving the half-torn bodies behind, he made his way to the fourth floor. Jeron gasped at the sight that greeted him beyond the heavy iron door.