I could grasp the front doorknob and turn it. That much was possible.
But the moment I pushed, it felt like hitting an invisible wall. A message shimmered into existence before me.
[The Hearthbound Dweller cannot leave the dwelling space.]
“Ah, damn!”
The knob turned, but the door refused to budge.
I have to get outside, somehow…
I knew. On the surface, it was an insane idea.
The world had ended three days ago.
The only reason I was still alive was thanks to my ability.
Outside, monsters roamed the ruins.
The massive bird that had slammed its head into my living room window could have made a meal of me in an instant.
And yet, despite the danger, I had two reasons to go.
The first was my family.
Han Eun-sook, Han Dong-chul… my grandparents…
Everyone I loved was out there.
[The Hearthbound Dweller cannot leave the dwelling space.]
“Sigh…”
The reasons I was living apart from them were… complicated.
Three bedrooms, two baths. In this thirty-pyeong apartment, with its open-plan living room and kitchen, I was the only official resident.
It had been my father’s idea to buy this place, combining a two hundred million won bank loan with our family’s entire two hundred million won in savings.
His gamble paid off. The apartment we bought for four hundred million soared past one billion in just six months.
I wasn’t born with a silver spoon, so the only reason I was living alone in such a luxurious place was to meet the two-year residency requirement for a tax break.
To avoid a massive tax bill, we had to hold onto the property for at least two years before selling. So, I became its glorified housesitter.
Of course, things went south after that.
The economy, crippled by Corax Virus and the war, dragged the real estate market down with it. The apartment’s value plummeted from over a billion to seven hundred million.
To make matters worse, the interest on the bank loan was skyrocketing, putting us in a precarious position.
A futile story now.
What did any of it matter? Bank debt, fluctuating apartment prices… it was all meaningless in a collapsed world.
Especially since I couldn’t sell the place anyway.
Please be safe.
Praying for my family’s well-being, I hit the call button on my smartphone.
[···Connecting···]
Just as I expected.
It was the same as it had been for the past three days. No matter how long I waited, nothing changed.
Phone calls, text messages, NuriTalk—all of it was dead.
Knowing it was useless, I opened NuriTalk anyway and tried to send a message.
-Mom, are you okay?
“Please, just this once…”
But the result was the same.
⟳ Han Eun-sook, are you okay?
The message hung there, unsent, a resend icon mocking me.
And then, something new happened.
[A temporary error has occurred. Please try again later. (Error code: 580, LO)]
The new message flashed on the screen, and the NuriTalk app crashed.
I tried relaunching it several times, but it was no use.
A glance at the top of my screen confirmed my suspicion. The data icon was gone.
“Damn.”
I’d been half-expecting it.
Frankly, it was a miracle the data had lasted for three whole days.
Major sites like MiriNet and Haneul had been unreachable since the day the world collapsed.
I clenched my fist in frustration, but it changed nothing.
I have to figure something out.
This wasn’t my only problem.
If I stay trapped in here, I’ll starve to death.
It wasn’t just the internet. One by one, the utilities were failing.
Water, electricity, gas.
The essentials of modern life were rapidly vanishing.
At least I have enough water.
Fortunately, I’d recently placed a large order on Saebyeok Delivery.
I had twenty 2-liter bottles and forty-seven 500-milliliter bottles, all of them full.
I’d ordered them out of laziness, just to avoid the hassle of boiling filtered water. That laziness had saved me.
The problem is food.
The electricity had cut out yesterday, and the refrigerator had gone silent. Everything inside it was doomed to spoil.
I’d tried to keep the doors shut, hoping the residual cold from the freezer would help, but it wouldn't last much longer.
There are only a few packs of instant noodles left.
Three packs of mild-flavored Baekdu Ramen. That was all.
If I’d known this was going to happen, I would have bought them by the case…
My parents had always kept the fridge stocked with side dishes every week, so I’d never felt the need to stockpile food.
Now, what I had left would barely last a week.
Even if I ration it, I’ll eventually run out.
Ultimately, to survive, I had to get outside.
However.
[The Hearthbound Dweller cannot leave the dwelling space.]
“…”
The very ability that protected me from the monsters outside would be the reason I’d starve to death.
When the food ran out, I would just slowly wither away.
This is the worst.
Desperate, I reached a hand toward the living room window, as if I could just phase through it.
If only I could get out, even through the window.
But.
[The Hearthbound Dweller cannot leave the dwelling space.]
“Damn it!”
I threw a punch at the infuriating message.
My fist stung as it connected with something solid and unyielding.
What kind of “absolute dweller” can’t even leave his own territory?
…Pathetic.
Even at the end of the world, I was still the same.
A so-called filial son who did nothing but leech off his parents.
A twenty-eight-year-old parasite, still taking an allowance, shamelessly eating the food they brought him.
A worthless human being who contributed nothing to the world.
“…Damn.”
But then, a chime. A notification.
“…Huh?”
A new message appeared, the first I’d seen in three days.
[Hunted Shardbeak (Lv. 23).]
Shardbeak?
Another one followed immediately after.
[Acquired a large amount of experience points.]
[Skill level has increased.]
[Skill level has increased.]
A flood of new messages scrolled past.
As I stared, I remembered the massive bird that had crashed into my living room window.
I stuck my head out the window to look down.
“Squawk!”
“Kyaak!”
Dozens of small, green-skinned creatures—goblins—were swarming the carcass of the monster bird, tearing at its flesh.
From my high-rise apartment, they looked like a colony of ants.
Are they finishing it off?
It looked like the goblins had killed the monster bird after it knocked itself unconscious on my window.
Technically, I was the one who knocked it out, which must be why I got the experience points.
Thanks to that, my skill had leveled up twice.
Well, leveling up my homebound skill won’t do me much good.
That judgment, however, was premature.
[Acquired a new skill.]
[There are loot items nearby that meet the conditions.]
[Initiating loot settlement.]
“Huh?”
Just after I read the unfamiliar notifications, something changed below.
“Keaaak!!”
“What… what is that?”
Startled by the goblins’ sudden commotion, I leaned out to look again.
The scene of their feast had changed.
The celebratory mood had vanished, replaced by the goblins' desperate screams.
What’s happening?
The source of their panic was the monster bird’s carcass.
Is it… disappearing?
Chunks of the Shardbeak’s body were vanishing into thin air.
To the goblins, it must have looked like their hard-won meal was dissolving before their eyes.
All they could do was shriek in confusion and rage.
[Loot settlement completed.]
After that message appeared, I looked down again.
The corpse is about a third smaller now…
[Funds of 2,203,241 won have been deposited into the Hearthbound Dweller’s wallet.]
Seeing the number in the new message, I muttered aloud.
“Tens, hundreds, thousands… millions… Two million won? Out of nowhere?”
For someone who lived on an allowance, two million won was an enormous sum of money.
What on earth is going on…
Before I could process it, something else changed.
Flash.
The living room grew brighter.
Not quite as bright as midday, but it was a noticeable change.
Is… is the power back?
The electricity had definitely been out since yesterday.
I didn’t know the exact reason, but the monster attacks must have wrecked the city’s infrastructure.
There was no way it could have been repaired this quickly.
It’s the skill! I got a new skill!
I scrambled to open my status window and check for changes.
[The Hearthbound Dweller]
Hearthbound Lord's Declaration (Passive) Lv. 3
-No one can invade the dwelling space without the permission of the absolute dweller.
Dignity Maintenance of the Hearthbound Lord (Passive) Lv. 1
-Restores the functions of the entire dwelling space to maintain dignity.
Shop of the Hearthbound Lord Lv. 1
-Allows purchasing registered items in the shop at regular prices.
Wallet of the Hearthbound Lord Lv. Max
-Current balance: 2,203,240 won
Three new skills had appeared.
The electricity had to be because of ‘Dignity Maintenance of the Hearthbound Lord.’
Restores the functions of the entire dwelling space to maintain dignity?
I jumped to my feet and ran to the refrigerator.
Whirrrr.
The appliance, which had been nothing more than an insulated box since the power died, was humming with the sound of circulating coolant.
Squeak.
I cautiously pulled on the handle.
“!!”
A cool, bright light spilled out, greeting me.
“It’s working! The power really is back!”
It wasn’t just the fridge.
Next to it, water flowed freely from the sink, and the purifier hummed back to life. The gas stove and induction cooktop both lit up on command.
Curious, I checked my phone. The Wi-Fi icon was back.
It’s really back to normal. Like before the world collapsed…!
With the power restored, the TV and computer also turned on.
Of course, the TV was mostly useless, displaying only a flickering screen with no channels.
But the computer could still play offline games, so it wasn't a total loss.
Still, it’s a relief to see a fully functional monitor.
Before the apocalypse, I’d spent most of my time in front of this screen.
Maybe that was why seeing it boot up normally brought such a profound sense of peace.
It almost felt like things were normal again, like before the world ended.
The internet is connected, but… as expected, no sites are loading.
Before the power went out completely, a few sites were still accessible.
There had been constant reports about the monsters appearing worldwide and the damage they were causing.
But now, not a single site would load.
The servers must have all gone down.
Up until the blackout, I’d been able to access sites with real-time updates on the situation in Gangcheon.
I’d seen videos of giant monsters demolishing entire buildings.
At least I’m in Miripo.
There were no skyscraper-sized monsters here.
While I was aimlessly clicking around on the computer, I stumbled across something.
This is…
It was a folder of pictures from a family trip to Cheonghae Island, taken a long time ago.
My mom had just bought a new digital camera and, determined to get her money’s worth, had taken over a hundred photos.
One of them, taken by a stranger, caught my eye. It was of the three of us.
“…”
In the photo, I wore an awkward smile while my mom and dad flanked me, their arms around my shoulders, their faces lit up with joy.
“Han Eun-sook… Han Dong-chul…”
My voice trembled, a hot pressure building behind my eyes.
I have to get Han Eun-sook and Han Dong-chul back. I have to.