Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 118.2: Story (2)

That biodome was composed of several independent bio-domes, each with its own theme—tropical, desert, highland, birds, and so on. In the tropical dome, exotic plants that one might expect only to see in the Amazon formed a green roof, while various beasts and fish played in their designated territories. In the desert dome, a barren, arid landscape of dry soil was recreated, displaying plants and animals that managed to continue their lineage even in such harsh conditions.

It is uncertain whether it was ever established as fact, but the original plan for the biodome was not for the general public’s amusement—it was intended to be a repository of knowledge for the new realms that humanity would soon challenge and explore, such as space and the deep ocean. The reasoning was straightforward: if we could maintain a biodome in Korea that faithfully replicated a tropical jungle or a desert—despite the distinct four seasons—then perhaps we could also create a habitable environment on the Moon’s surface.

Therefore, the environments and organisms described in the original proposal for the biodome were extremely austere. Even in the tropical dome, there were only a handful of tropical plants, a few insects and bugs, and at most a small number of fish—the sole vertebrates—inhabiting an expansive area of 3,546 square meters. This minimalistic approach was deemed necessary to achieve a perfect ecological balance, one in which the ratios of producers, prey, and decomposers would be maintained appropriately and perpetually without external intervention.

The other themed domes were designed with similar intentions, differing only in humidity and temperature settings. The fundamental purpose of the biodome’s construction was to maintain and study nearly every extreme environment found on Earth right here in Korea, with fully functioning ecosystems, in order to prepare for the climate changes and extreme conditions that might one day threaten human survival.

However, that original intent was derailed before the biodome was even completed. From the government’s perspective, it was an expensive facility to build and maintain, and local authorities—after having spared no expense for such a vast area and resources—were not pleased with the notion of letting this enormous facility become nothing more than a vanity project for a handful of scientists. For that reason, instead of populating the biodome with a few carefully selected organisms that would establish a perfect ecological balance, they began to fill it with large, flashy, and well-known plants and animals that would immediately capture attention.

In the tropical dome, where even ants were initially barred due to concerns over uncontrolled expansion, capybaras, broad-billed storks, and various species of monkeys were introduced. Similarly, in the desert dome—which, aside from lizards, was decided to host no other species—a desert fox and prairie dog appeared, winning over the hearts of the visitors.

One of the survivors, known only as J (presumably bearing the surname Jeong), was one of the researchers who had grown deeply disappointed by the government and local authorities’ policies.

“They ruined everything,” J lamented.

Originally, J had been a passionate supporter of the initial draft. Despite being scolded three times by higher-ups and enduring countless reprimands and forced transfers, he had strived to implement his vision of a truly self-sustaining ecosystem in the biodome. Yet, the hopes of one humble researcher were mercilessly buried under the weight of so-called political judgment and hollow rhetoric in the name of serving the people.

J eventually reappeared at a refugee camp on the outskirts of Seoul in the spring—one year and six months after the war began. At the time of his discovery, he was draped in a tattered cloth, had let his beard grow in a haphazard manner, and his overall hygiene was abysmal—he looked like a primitive caveman. Even though those were tough times, it was still considerably easier to live then than now, thanks to government rations.

The camp residents felt both sympathy and curiosity at J’s disheveled appearance. Once his condition had improved somewhat, J slowly began to stammer out, almost hesitantly, the facts he could now bring himself to utter from the depths of his trauma. His first story was familiar—if not tedious—to the refugee camp inhabitants: it recounted how shells fell, brilliant flashes lit up the sky, ruthless shockwaves swept across the land, communications were severed, and people died. That, after all, was hardly a pleasant occurrence.

What the camp people were truly curious about, however, was how J managed to survive for a long one year and six months in such a state. Even for us who aren’t hardcore doomsday preppers, our supplies typically run out around the six-month mark. Even when supplies ran low, seasoned preppers would still have at least some clothing and equipment to deal with every season. Yet here was J, dressed in a tattered gown, a shirt, and corduroy pants—an outfit both familiar and bizarre, and one that was clearly far removed from the typical doomsday prepper attire. What caught everyone’s eye most was the exotic bird’s tail feather he wore in his ear, still gleaming as if it were new.

After a few rounds of meaningless, circular anecdotes, J was confronted with one pressing question:

“How on earth did you manage to survive all this time?”

A burly man barked the question at him. Without missing a beat, J answered,

“I was in hell.”

“Hell?!”

When people clamored to ask further, J stared blankly into the void for a moment, then, with a suddenly twisted smile, he finished his thought,

“By means of perfect balance...”

*

The war’s aftermath spared even the biodome. There is no part of Korea that escaped damage from Chinese attacks, but on average, suburban areas fared worse than large cities. Even when the same nuclear missile struck, the interception systems prioritized defense for the densely populated urban centers that the government had designated, while the suburbs—already evacuated and cleared—were left for the missiles to fall upon.

Recalling the sequence of events, J mused,

“It seemed a nuke fell nearby. The entire building shook violently, and an unprecedented storm engulfed the biodome.”

The surrounding mountains had shielded the biodome from total destruction. However, many people died and numerous structures were demolished. In several biodomes, many of the thick glass panels that made up the greenhouse walls shattered, columns bent, roofs collapsed, and huge holes appeared in the structure. With the power cut off, many biodomes reached the end of their lifespans. A handful of survivors, upon seeing exotic animals wandering bewilderedly from the gaps in the distorted biodomes, hastily climbed into the few remaining vehicles and fled. In their eyes, not only was the biodome facility effectively dead, but even if it could be maintained, there was little hope it would survive for another ten years.

Yet, one person managed to survive in that half-destroyed biodome complex—J.

Still obsessed with the true purpose of the biodome, he had shown up at the tropical dome early in the morning to perform some basic cleanup work. His dedication was also fueled by his private goal of collecting data for a paper he was currently writing.

However, his zeal led to irreversible consequences. Just as the biodome began to shake, it tilted precariously, and the exit was blocked. The power cut off, bringing nearly all electrically operated functions to a halt. As if that were not enough, J had lost consciousness during the nuclear strike and had briefly collapsed. While his colleagues searched for him during his blackout, he was nowhere to be found and remained unreachable. Eventually, after his colleagues left, J regained consciousness and soon realized the harsh reality: he was now stranded, along with the jungle inhabitants, in the tropical dome that was meant to replicate the Amazon environment—a million miles away from anywhere familiar.

But that cohabitation wouldn’t last long. Although it was September at the time, the tropical dome had to constantly maintain conditions of 33°C in the summer and 22°C in the winter, with humidity levels above 90%. Aside from the capybaras, Amazon otters, and Nile crocodiles, the residents of the tropical dome were all tropical fish and invertebrates. While the autumn weather might be bearable, come winter, everything would perish. Of all these creatures, only the crocodile posed any potential threat to humans; however, as long as it stayed near the central artificial pond of the dome, there wasn’t any significant danger.

“That crocodile was brought in by the new parachute-appointed director, who was such a stubborn old fart. Truly a miserable excuse for a person—before and after the war,” J remarked.

As both the biodome manager and an ecologist, J was fully aware of the risks he faced and began to formulate an escape plan. At that moment, no obvious exit was visible. The tempered glass of the tropical dome was exceptionally strong, and thanks to the protection offered by another biodome directly buffering the shockwave, only portions of the tempered glass had cracked. Unlike the neighboring desert or Antarctic domes, it remained completely sealed. The only option was to use a lever to pry open the distorted frame and crawl out, but there was no tool available to use as a lever, and the immediate priority was to devise a plan to remain there for a few more days.

Fortunately, the control room within the biodome was safe. Although most of its functions were disabled, the small break room in the corner was stocked with all kinds of instant coffee and tea, assorted snacks, and especially boxes of cup noodles.

Before the war, J had placed a bulk order for bottled water, stacking up multiple containers in storage. This, at least, provided him with a small measure of relief.

The animal care room was still stocked with various feeds for the creatures housed in the facility. Of these, the only thing J could consume was fish.

Inside the now powerless freezer, frozen fish intended for the Nile crocodile and the family of Amazon otters were slowly thawing.

Elsewhere, a few mealworms wriggled inside a toppled plastic breeding tank. J took note of them as well.

If all else failed, mealworms—easy to raise and requiring minimal energy to sustain—might become his last remaining food source.

Despite the dire situation, J tried to remain hopeful.

Above all, he thought of his family in Seoul.

His younger sister had recently gotten married and had a child.

It wasn’t his own child, but his nephew was so adorable that J felt like he could hold him in the palm of his hand.

Thus began J’s survival inside the isolated tropical biodome.

Most of his days were spent trying to straighten the warped frame of the structure, creating a passage he could crawl through.

That was his best bet.

If he could just get through one meter, he’d be outside.

On the third day of being trapped, he discovered a decent pipe and a toolbox in the mechanical room, which significantly accelerated his work.

However, while J focused on escaping, the available caloric resources inside the biodome were rapidly depleting.

With the ambient temperature still relatively stable, the conditions inside the biodome remained unchanged—perhaps even hotter and more humid during the daytime than before.

Thanks to this, the plants didn’t wither and die.

But there were predators in the biodome.

The Nile crocodile and the Amazonian giant otter.

The two predators were locked in a competition, devouring the fish in the pond and artificial stream.

At the time, J hadn’t realized it, but those tropical fish had represented a crucial source of sustenance for him as well.

A week into his escape attempt, he succeeded in straightening the bent frame.

Overcome with excitement at the thought of reuniting with his family, J didn’t even bother to let out a cheer—he simply crawled through the passage.

But just as he was about to open the entrance of the biodome, he froze.

There was someone there.

A soldier wearing a helmet.

But the uniform was unfamiliar.

It wasn’t South Korean military gear.

It was Chinese.

The soldier was young—early twenties, maybe even his late teens.

His pale face, soft with youthful idealism, stared at J with wide eyes as he crawled out of the wreckage.

Overwhelmed by sheer terror, J immediately scrambled backward, retreating into the control room.

His heart pounded violently.

Somewhere in the depths of his panic, a memory surfaced—something from before the war.

The uniform...

It looked strikingly similar to the ones the government had shown in training manuals as the Chinese airborne division.

Outside, a chorus of raucous Chinese voices rang out.

Then—gunfire.

Two shots.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

J spent the next several hours—perhaps even longer—paralyzed with fear inside the control room.

By the time he finally ventured out again, a long time had passed.

His steps were unsteady as he cautiously scanned his surroundings.

Were the Chinese soldiers inside the facility?

Had they left any behind?

After confirming that there was no one around, he moved toward the greenhouse roof.

Under the shade of the artificial jungle, he peered beyond the warped glass, his eyes filled with fear.

No one was there.

The soldier who had spotted him—the others who had been patrolling with their rifles—

Gone.

Yet, the terror didn’t fade.

J had no way to communicate with the outside world.

Had the war ended?

Had the tides turned in South Korea’s favor?

Or had most of the country already fallen into Chinese hands?

J chose the safest and most conservative course of action.

He hid.

Deep inside the tropical biodome, he resolved to wait until the storm of the Chinese army had passed.

Days went by.

The Chinese soldiers never reappeared.

There were no more gunshots.

No more shouting voices.

Still, J thought to himself:

"I’ll wait a little longer."

He wouldn’t leave until he was completely sure that the Chinese military had pulled out.

By winter, they would all be gone... right?

Or worse—what if they came back, using the very same passage he had tried to escape through?

"So, in the end, he survived and made it to Seoul?"

As the story hit a lull, I finally spoke up.

All eyes turned to me.

"That was an interesting tale. Surviving inside a biodome... I mean, I come from a doomsday prepper community, but I’ve never heard of anyone trying to survive in a place like that."

The story had reached a pause, and now seemed like the perfect moment to tell my unfinished tale.

"Hearing that reminded me of a story about John Nae-non. A truly fascinating one."

I had prepared an ace story—John Nae-non’s first meeting.

The story of when I was grilling meat at a barbecue joint.

To fully understand the complex character that was John Nae-non, one had to start from our very first encounter.

There was some confusion in my memory, but I distinctly recalled I was the one who had grilled the meat, not M9.

I was just about to begin recounting that legendary first fan meeting—held at a shady “black-market fresh meat restaurant”—

"Hey, hold on. The story isn’t over yet."

A voice interrupted.

It was Hong Da-jeong, sitting deliberately apart from the rest, making it clear that she had no intention of fully blending in.

"?"

It wasn’t just her.

"That story... yeah, let’s not."

"Please, no more John Nae-non."

"Ugh, not again."

Disapproval echoed from multiple directions.

Only Ballantine smirked faintly, but even he didn’t seem eager to overturn the consensus.

"?"

I didn’t understand.

But if the mood was this unfavorable, I had no choice but to back down.

Besides, it looked like Bang Jae-hyuk’s story wasn’t finished yet.

"The moment J abandoned his attempt to escape, he realized something."

He rummaged through his phone and held ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) up a photo for us to see.

The image was faded and grim.

The biodome looked as though it had decayed—as if the building itself had rotted away.

Everyone’s attention was fixed on the screen.

Then—

A thunderclap boomed outside.

As the lingering rumble faded, Bang Jae-hyuk’s voice filled the bunker.

"At last... the ideal biodome he had always dreamed of—"

"Had finally appeared before him."