The silence in the apartment felt heavier after Ji-eun left.
It wasn't the comfortable silence of late night, nor the relaxing emptiness of being alone by choice. It was a silence of anticipation—like the entire building was holding its breath.
Min-jae leaned his back against the door and slid down until he was sitting on the floor.
"…a building meeting," he muttered. "Of course there would be one."
In the first apocalypse, he vaguely remembered something similar. A notice taped inside the elevator. Talk about saving energy. People complaining. People laughing.
After that… no one ever came down for meetings again.
He closed his eyes for a second.
"Okay." He opened them. "List."
The notebook was still open on the couch. He stood up, pulled the table closer to the window, and sat facing the city.
SURVIVAL LIST — BEFORE THE ICE
1. Water (lots of it)
2. Long-lasting food
3. Fuel
4. Thermal clothing
5. Heat source
6. Information
7. A place better than my apartment
8. People (carefully chosen)
Min-jae tapped the pen against the table.
"Now comes the part no one talks about," he said out loud. "Knowing what to do is easy. The problem is how to do it without drawing attention, without burning all your money, and without looking like a lunatic."
The system appeared discreetly.
Analysis active.
Initial error probability: High.
"Thanks for the moral support," he muttered.
---
Min-jae glanced at the clock.
Still early.
"Water first," he decided. "Always water."
In the first apocalypse, he survived almost two weeks without eating properly.
But without water…
he almost died in three days.
He grabbed his larger backpack, put on his jacket, and went out again.
In the elevator, he ran into the neighbor from the 7th floor—a middle-aged man, always in a suit, always complaining about the cold.
"Strange weather, huh?" the man said.
"Yeah," Min-jae replied shortly.
"They say it might snow again tonight."
Min-jae held back the urge to laugh.
"They say a lot of things."
The doors opened.
Outside, Seoul was still… far too normal.
This time, he entered a larger supermarket.
And that's when the first real difficulty appeared.
The water shelves were already… half empty.
"…already?" he murmured.
People pushed carts loaded with large bottles. An employee hurried to restock boxes. A couple argued over the last promotion.
Min-jae felt a chill that had nothing to do with temperature.
"So this is how it starts," he thought.
He took what he could. Didn't overdo it.
Medium bottles. A few small packs.
The system analyzed.
Potable Water acquired.
Quantity: Moderate.
Note: Insufficient for long-term survival.
"I know," he replied mentally. "This is just the beginning."
At the register, the cashier commented,
"Everyone decided to buy water today."
Min-jae shrugged.
"Koreans love drama."
She laughed.
He didn't.
---
On the way back, Min-jae stopped in front of an ATM.
"I need cash," he murmured.
In the first apocalypse, cards stopped working far too quickly. And when they did… cash became useless paper soon after.
But in the meantime, money bought survival.
He withdrew almost everything.
The system didn't comment.
But something flickered.
Note: Financial resources have an expiration date.
"Trust me," Min-jae muttered. "I know better than the bank."
---
Back in the apartment, he turned on the TV.
News.
Experts debating "rare climate anomalies." One politician asking for calm. Another saying everything was under control.
Min-jae let out a dry laugh.
"The phrase that kills the most people in the world is 'everything is under control.'"
He opened his old laptop.
And started researching.
Climate reports. Foreign forums. Russian, Canadian, Scandinavian news.
Everything matched.
Abnormal temperature drops. Wrong air currents. Satellite failures.
"…exactly the same," he whispered.
In the first apocalypse, he only understood how serious it was when it was already too late.
Now, every line confirmed it.
The world wasn't going to cool down.
It was going to freeze.
The system appeared again.
Old World Data collected.
Category: Climate / Infrastructure
Value: Medium
"At least you like reading," Min-jae commented.
---
Min-jae leaned back in his chair.
"Portable heaters won't save anyone," he said. "Not even me."
In the first apocalypse, he burned furniture. Books. Clothes.
Almost died from smoke inhalation.
"I need something better," he thought. "Something that lasts weeks."
He looked around the apartment.
Small. Poorly insulated. Thin windows.
"This place will turn into a freezer," he murmured.
The system reacted.
Shelter Evaluation:
Thermal Insulation: Low
Heat Source: Insufficient
Long-term Survival Probability: Low
"You don't have to humiliate me," he replied.
But he agreed.
This apartment wouldn't work.
Not yet.
---
That night, Min-jae went down to the meeting.
Mistake number one.
The room was full.
Too full.
Elderly people, young adults, children. Everyone talking at once. Complaints. Fear disguised as irritation.
"This is exaggerated!" someone shouted.
"The power can't just go out like that!" another argued.
The building manager tried to keep order.
"Let's stay calm! This is just a preventive measure!"
Min-jae leaned against the wall.
Observed.
Memorized faces.
In the first apocalypse, these people became:
victims
looters
corpses
or something worse
Ji-eun was there.
She looked tense, but focused. Taking notes on her phone.
Good.
"We need to save energy," the manager said. "Especially at night."
"And if it goes out?" someone asked.
Silence.
Min-jae almost raised his hand.
Almost.
"No," he thought. "Not yet."
He left before it ended.
Mistake number two.
In the hallway, he heard someone whisper,
"He's been acting strange lately."
Min-jae closed his eyes for a moment.
"Great," he muttered. "I'm already becoming the building's crazy guy."
---
That night, the temperature dropped more than usual.
Just a little.
But it dropped.
The heater made a strange noise.
Min-jae got out of bed and watched vapor leave his mouth.
"…this isn't psychological," he murmured.
The system confirmed it.
Temperature drop detected.
Status: Mild
Trend: Progressive
"It's started," he sighed.
He lay back down, but didn't sleep.
He thought about the first apocalypse.
The chaos.
The hunger.
The first time he had to hurt someone to survive.
The cold that never went away.
Sanity: 60%.
"Still too high," he thought. "It'll drop."
---
The next day dawned far too normal.
Weak sunlight. People going to work. Children heading to school.
Min-jae watched everything from the window.
"The problem with an apocalypse," he murmured, "is that it doesn't look like one at the beginning."
The system appeared.
New Event in Preparation:
Initial Urban Freezing (Low Intensity)
"How long?" he asked.
Response: Variable.
"Great. I hate surprises."
He closed the notebook.
"Today," he said, "I start looking for a better place."
Not a final shelter.
But a plan B.
Garages. Basements. Subway stations.
In the first apocalypse, those who controlled the underground lived longer.
"And this time," he added, "I won't be late."
Min-jae grabbed his backpack, looked once more at the apartment, and sighed.
"Sorry, buddy," he murmured. "But you won't survive the winter."
Outside, Seoul kept living.
Unaware.
And while the world still pretended everything was fine, Kang Min-jae began to understand the cruelest truth of the apocalypse:
knowing the future doesn't make anyone ready.
it only makes the mistakes heavier.