Chapter 1: A World Like the Apocalypse of Wasteland
Luciel never imagined that he would one day open his eyes to a world on the brink of ruin—a place that looked as if the apocalypse had devoured it long ago.
He sat quietly in the dim light of a crooked wooden shed, his body still aching but far stronger than it had been a few days ago. His thoughts swirled in disbelief. Did God really give me another chance?
Five days had passed since he woke up in this strange, broken world. In that time, he had pieced together fragments of information—enough to understand the grim reality surrounding him. This world was far larger than Earth, but it had long been abandoned. Civilization had decayed until nothing was left but scattered survivors clinging to existence among ruins.
The land was barren, incapable of growing crops. For miles in every direction stretched an empty desolation—gray dust, cracked earth, and lifeless air. The rain, when it came, was tainted with acid, eating away at metal and stone. Most of the time, the sky was shrouded in thick dust, a suffocating haze that smothered sunlight. Only occasionally did a weak ray break through, painting a fleeting glow over the dying ground.
Luciel flexed his arm, testing his strength. The soreness had faded. "Another day or two," he murmured to himself. "Then I should be fully recovered."
He stood and peered through the narrow gap in the shed door. Outside, the world was painted in hues of rust and ash. The setting sun bled across the horizon, illuminating a land stripped of all green, all life.
"A doomsday wasteland," he muttered bitterly. "People back on Earth loved to imagine this in movies and games… and now I'm living in it."
Before all this, Luciel had been an ordinary man with an extraordinary burden. An orphan who scraped his way through school, he'd joined the army midway through university when he could no longer afford tuition. For five years, he served in the special forces—a life of discipline, hardship, and danger. But old injuries finally caught up with him, forcing him into early retirement.
After that, he tried to build something new. He planned to use his survival skills to film wilderness survival videos—short clips teaching people how to build shelters, make fire, and find food. Maybe, he thought, it would give him a new purpose.
But fate had other plans.
While scouting a mountain area for his first filming location, an earthquake struck. The ground split beneath his feet. He remembered the feeling of falling—of air rushing past him—and then nothing. He thought that was the end.
When he awoke, he found himself lying in a wasteland, his body covered in bruises, unable to move, the air filled with dust and decay. He would have died there if not for the girl who found him.
Mino—though she disguised herself as a boy—had dragged him back to her camp in secret, hiding him away in this small shed. Without her, he would already be a corpse.
Luciel gave a dry chuckle. "So maybe this really is my wilderness survival challenge," he said softly.
But survival here was no game. He was a stowaway in a settlement that didn't tolerate outsiders. According to Mino, any unauthorized person found in the camp was either beaten to death or enslaved until they died from exhaustion. Either way, he couldn't afford to be discovered.
A faint crack of breaking wood snapped him out of thought.
He tensed, every instinct sharpened from years in the military. Silently, he leaned forward and peered through the door's gap.
A small, thin figure approached, her steps light, her posture cautious. Her face was smudged with dirt, her hair tied up beneath a rough cap. When he recognized her, his muscles relaxed.
Mino.
The door creaked open just enough for her to slip inside. The moment she turned and saw him standing silently by the entrance, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
"Ah! Why are you standing there without saying anything?" she hissed, pressing a hand to her chest.
Luciel smiled faintly and stepped aside. "How was the harvest today?"
Her expression brightened immediately. "Luciel, the traps you taught me to make—amazing! They really work!" she said excitedly, her voice barely containing her pride.
"Oh? How many did you catch?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Mino grinned, swinging her small cloth bag onto the floor. "Hehe, you'll be surprised." She opened the bag and began to pull out her prizes one by one—small brown lizards, each no longer than two fingers. "One, two, three…" She lined them up carefully on the ground. There were eight in total.
Luciel nodded approvingly. "Not bad at all. How many traps did you make today?"
"Only twenty-two," she said, a little disappointed. "If I had more time, I could've done thirty."
"Don't push it too hard," he warned gently. "If others notice too many traps set outside, they'll start asking questions."
Her eyes widened slightly as she realized the danger. "Right… I'll be careful."
But her expression quickly clouded over again. "Still, we have to pay taxes in three days," she murmured anxiously. "If we don't bring enough food, they'll punish us. And what about your tax?"
Luciel frowned. "How much do we need to pay?"
He had learned a little about the camp's system. Anyone living there had to contribute food as tax—mostly in the form of small animals like lizards or rats. Those who couldn't pay were beaten or expelled into the wasteland.
Mino counted on her fingers. "With today's catch, we have maybe thirty small lizards. That's still not enough."
Luciel could see the worry etched across her young face. In just five days, the wary girl who'd once hidden from him had begun to trust him. She often came to him for advice, eager to learn how to survive better.
He asked softly, "What about your own tax? Have you paid?"
She nodded miserably. "I already gave thirty-five lizards last time. Only five are left."
Luciel sighed. "Then don't worry about me. If it comes to it, I'll leave before they find out."
"Leave?" Mino's eyes widened in shock. She looked up at him, her lips trembling. "You can't… you're just getting better!"
Luciel clenched his fist. "I'm fine now. I can take care of myself."
"But—" She cut herself off, panic rising in her voice. "No! I can collect enough for both of us. I'll set more traps tomorrow. You don't have to go!"
Before he could stop her, she rushed to the corner, moving aside a pile of gravel to reveal a small wooden box hidden beneath. She opened it with trembling hands, revealing a few pieces of dried lizard meat.
"Here! I was saving these, but you can use them to pay your tax."
Luciel's chest tightened. He looked at the meager offering—clearly her emergency food supply. "Keep it," he said firmly. "That's your reserve. You need it more than I do."
"But—"
He shook his head. "You're forgetting something. I'm an adult. My tax is different from yours."
Her voice wavered. "There… there must be another way."
Luciel's gaze softened, though his tone remained calm. "Do you remember what you said the day we met?"
Mino froze.
That first day, when she'd found him half-dead in the dust, she had thought he was already gone. She'd searched his body, trying to find anything of value, when suddenly he'd opened his eyes. She had nearly screamed.
Back then, he had bargained with her—offering his knife and water canteen in exchange for a place to hide. She had agreed reluctantly, telling him, This is just a trade. When you're healed, you leave.
Now, faced with his reminder, Mino's cheeks flushed red. "I—I know what I said," she whispered, "but I didn't mean—"
She turned away, fumbling under her bed until she pulled out a worn camouflage backpack. Setting it down in front of him, she murmured, "Everything I found on you… I didn't touch it. It's all inside. Take it back."
Luciel looked at her, confused. "Why? Why do you want me to stay so badly? We've only known each other for five days." He gave her a half-smile. "Aren't you afraid I might be dangerous?"
Mino twisted her fingers nervously, staring at the floor. "I… I don't know," she said softly. "But when you talk to me, when you teach me things… it feels different. When Big Sis left four years ago, I thought I'd never feel that again."
Her voice cracked at the memory. "She left to pay her tax. She never came back."
Luciel said nothing. He had seen that kind of pain before—the quiet, raw loneliness of someone who had lost everyone and still tried to smile.
Mino suddenly straightened, her expression lighting up with an idea. "Wait! I have something else. It'll be enough for both our taxes!"
Before he could ask, she crawled under the bed again, rummaging frantically through the dust. "Ah! Found it!"
When she emerged, she was grinning, holding something small between both hands. "Look! It's still alive!"
Luciel raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"
She stepped closer, revealing a tiny turtle the size of her palm, its shell dull and cracked but its eyes alert.
"A tortoise," she announced proudly. "I caught it near the dry creek two days ago."
Luciel crouched down, examining the creature. "A tortoise, huh?" he murmured. For a strange moment, he felt something stir—an odd warmth spreading through his mind.
Then a mechanical voice echoed inside his head:
> Ding! Tameable creature detected. Binding to trainer system…
Luciel froze. His eyes widened as the faint glow pulsed across the tortoise's shell.
The girl blinked, confused. "Luciel? What's wrong?"
He didn't answer. His heart was pounding—not from fear, but from realization. Whatever strange power had brought him into this world… it was awakening.