That biodo was composed of several independent bio-dos, each with its own the—tropical, desert, highland, birds, and so on. In the tropical do, exotic plants that one might expect only to see in the Amazon ford a green roof, while various beasts and fish played in their designated territories. In the desert do, 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 biodo was not for the general public’s amusent—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 biodo in Korea that faithfully replicated a tropical jungle or a desert—despite the distinct four seasons—then perhaps we could also create a habitable environnt on the Moon’s surface.
Therefore, the environnts and organisms described in the original proposal for the biodo were extrely austere. Even in the tropical do, 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 ters. This minimalistic approach was deed 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 thed dos were designed with similar intentions, differing only in humidity and temperature settings. The fundantal purpose of the biodo’s construction was to maintain and study nearly every extre environnt found on Earth right here in Korea, with fully functioning ecosystems, in order to prepare for the climate changes and extre conditions that might one day threaten human survival.
However, that original intent was derailed before the biodo was even completed. From the governnt’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 beco nothing more than a vanity project for a handful of scientists. For that reason, instead of populating the biodo 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 imdiately capture attention.
In the tropical do, 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 do—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 surna Jeong), was one of the researchers who had grown deeply disappointed by the governnt and local authorities’ policies.
“They ruined everything,” J lanted.
Originally, J had been a passionate supporter of the initial draft. Despite being scolded three tis by higher-ups and enduring countless reprimands and forced transfers, he had strived to implent his vision of a truly self-sustaining ecosystem in the biodo. Yet, the hopes of one humble researcher were rcilessly buried under the weight of so-called political judgnt and hollow rhetoric in the na 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 ti 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 tis, it was still considerably easier to live then than now, thanks to governnt rations.
The camp residents felt both sympathy and curiosity at J’s disheveled appearance. Once his condition had improved sowhat, J slowly began to stamr 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 so clothing and equipnt 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 aningless, circular anecdotes, J was confronted with one pressing question:
“How on earth did you manage to survive all this ti?”
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 mont, then, with a suddenly twisted smile, he finished his thought,
“By ans of perfect balance...”
*
The war’s aftermath spared even the biodo. 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 sa nuclear missile struck, the interception systems prioritized defense for the densely populated urban centers that the governnt 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 seed a nuke fell nearby. The entire building shook violently, and an unprecedented storm engulfed the biodo.”
The surrounding mountains had shielded the biodo from total destruction. However, many people died and nurous structures were demolished. In several biodos, 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 biodos reached the end of their lifespans. A handful of survivors, upon seeing exotic animals wandering bewilderedly from the gaps in the distorted biodos, hastily climbed into the few remaining vehicles and fled. In their eyes, not only was the biodo 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 biodo complex—J.
Still obsessed with the true purpose of the biodo, he had shown up at the tropical do early in the morning to perform so 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 biodo 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 do that was ant to replicate the Amazon environnt—a million miles away from anywhere familiar.
But that cohabitation wouldn’t last long. Although it was September at the ti, the tropical do had to constantly maintain conditions of 33°C in the sumr 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 do were all tropical fish and invertebrates. While the autumn weather might be bearable, co 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 do, 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 biodo manager and an ecologist, J was fully aware of the risks he faced and began to formulate an escape plan. At that mont, no obvious exit was visible. The tempered glass of the tropical do was exceptionally strong, and thanks to the protection offered by another biodo directly buffering the shockwave, only portions of the tempered glass had cracked. Unlike the neighboring desert or Antarctic dos, it remained completely sealed. The only option was to use a lever to pry open the distorted fra and crawl out, but there was no tool available to use as a lever, and the imdiate priority was to devise a plan to remain there for a few more days.
Fortunately, the control room within the biodo 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 asure 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 consu 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 alworms wriggled inside a toppled plastic breeding tank. J took note of them as well.
If all else failed, alworms—easy to raise and requiring minimal energy to sustain—might beco 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 biodo.
Most of his days were spent trying to straighten the warped fra of the structure, creating a passage he could crawl through.
That was his best bet.
If he could just get through one ter, he’d be outside.
On the third day of being trapped, he discovered a decent pipe and a toolbox in the chanical room, which significantly accelerated his work.
However, while J focused on escaping, the available caloric resources inside the biodo were rapidly depleting.
With the ambient temperature still relatively stable, the conditions inside the biodo remained unchanged—perhaps even hotter and more humid during the dayti than before.
Thanks to this, the plants didn’t wither and die.
But there were predators in the biodo.
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 ti, 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 fra.
Overco with excitent 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 biodo, he froze.
There was soone there.
A soldier wearing a helt.
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.
Overwheld by sheer terror, J imdiately scrambled backward, retreating into the control room.
His heart pounded violently.
Sowhere in the depths of his panic, a mory surfaced—sothing from before the war.
The uniform...
It looked strikingly similar to the ones the governnt 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 ti he finally ventured out again, a long ti 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 biodo, 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 ca back, using the very sa 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 .
"That was an interesting tale. Surviving inside a biodo... I an, I co 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 seed like the perfect mont to tell my unfinished tale.
"Hearing that reminded of a story about John Nae-non. A truly fascinating one."
I had prepared an ace story—John Nae-non’s first eting.
The story of when I was grilling at 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 so confusion in my mory, but I distinctly recalled I was the one who had grilled the at, not M9.
I was just about to begin recounting that legendary first fan eting—held at a shady “black-market fresh at 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 mont J abandoned his attempt to escape, he realized sothing."
He rummaged through his phone and held ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) up a photo for us to see.
The image was faded and grim.
The biodo 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 bood outside.
As the lingering rumble faded, Bang Jae-hyuk’s voice filled the bunker.
"At last... the ideal biodo he had always dread of—"
"Had finally appeared before him."
Reviews
All reviews (0)