chapter 1

I was looking at the huge monster lunging toward me. I took my gun and tried to shoot it. As I thought I had avoided all the attacks, suddenly, from behind, a huge mutant beast launched itself at me.

I looked at its gaping mouth, aiming straight for my fatal point, and at that moment, I knew it was over. Five years in this deadly world, surviving against all odds, and this was how I died. I closed my eyes, ready to accept my fate and leave this world behind.

But to my surprise, after losing consciousness—who knows for how long—I opened my eyes again.

A familiar yet unfamiliar feeling washed over me. It was as if I had just woken up from a long dream—a dream filled with blood, ruthlessness, and the destruction of nature itself.

Panicked, I hurriedly looked at my hands. My beautifully manicured nails stared back at me—smooth, clean. Not the calloused, scarred hands I had earned through countless fights against beasts and the brutal struggle for survival.

Was this a dream?

It had to be a lie. But those wounds, that pain—I could still feel them. It couldn't be fake.

I grabbed my phone and checked the date. August 15th.

Exactly three months before the satellite crash.

Until this moment, I might have thought it was all an illusion, but seeing this date, I knew—I had been reborn.

Just like in those novels where the protagonist returns to the past, gaining magic or a mystical space. I immediately got out of bed, searching my body for any strange tattoos or objects that might have carried over from the post-apocalyptic period—something, anything that could serve as an advantage.

But to my dismay, nothing had changed.

It was only me who had returned.

Yet, I wasn't disappointed.

I still had three months. I might not have wealth, but with my knowledge of the future, I could prepare. I could minimize the impact of the apocalypse on myself.

More than that—I now had a chance to save those I lost.

My loved ones.

Especially my mother and father, who lived in a remote village—the very area where the satellite had crashed. I never even found their ashes. They hadn't received a proper burial. That regret had haunted me, gnawed at me.

I unlocked my phone and dialed my mother's number.

It rang.

No one picked up.

Disappointment settled in, but I reminded myself—they are alive.

And now, I had to think of a plan to save them.

To save myself.

To survive this disaster.

At this point, I really hate myself.

Why wasn't I born into a rich family? Why weren't my parents influential?

If that were the case, I would have had the upper hand. I could have done so many things without drawing attention to myself. But the reality was different—my parents were just out-of-town farmers with a small piece of land. The most precious thing we owned was a two-story house in our village.

But to me, that land and house had little to no value.

Because the disaster would strike that very area.

And even those who survived wouldn't be spared—the radiation from the failing nuclear plants would turn them into mutants or mindless zombies. Only those who managed to stay far away from the radiation zones would remain human—normal living beings struggling to survive in a world that had turned against them.

I needed a plan.

First, I needed a base.

Then, I needed supplies—tons of supplies.

Even though the satellite collapse itself was catastrophic, it was the aftermath that truly brought destruction. As it entered the atmosphere, the friction caused it to crash like a meteoroid, wiping out nearly 20% of the Earth's surface.

Another 10% was severely affected, leaving the land barren, wiping out life, and triggering massive tsunamis that swallowed entire coastlines.

50% of the world was destroyed.

The remaining 50%, though spared from the direct impact, suffered in other ways. The sheer force of the disaster destabilized power plants and nuclear facilities across the globe, causing some to explode and release deadly radiation.

Only a few parts of the world remained relatively safe—mainly countries that had no nuclear weapons. But those nations had always been poor, lacking the food and resources necessary for long-term survival.

And with the land becoming barren, cultivation was impossible.

Water sources were contaminated with viruses.

Creatures died off.

The world turned into a nightmare.

For my base, I opened Google Maps.

With the knowledge from my previous life, I wanted to find a country that had suffered the least from the disaster.

There was an island-based country near Antarctica. Its population had always been low—only around 40,000 people—due to the extreme cold and lack of development. No major country had ever taken an interest in it because survival there was difficult, and its government was more symbolic than functional, existing in name only.

The best part? It was easy to enter, and gaining citizenship required relatively low expenses.

The island had land, but it was covered in snow. Farming was limited, and the people mostly relied on fish from the coastal waters for food.

I remembered hearing in my past life that this was one of the few places with a real chance of survival. The risk of zombies and viruses there was incredibly low. Even though it was surrounded by snow and glaciers, miraculously, they hadn't collapsed. Instead, they became a valuable source of clean water—so much so that, in the future, desperate survivors and black-market traders would smuggle ice from here to other parts of the world.

I know, smuggling ice sounds ridiculous.

But when every water source around you is contaminated with deadly viruses and unknown bacteria, the most valuable resource becomes whatever is still pure—and that starts with water.

I had decided.

I would go to this country.

With such a small population, the fight for survival would be less intense.

But the real problem wasn't getting there.

It was convincing my parents—and the people I cared about—to leave everything behind and come with me.