Leveling Up By Surviving Alone - L.U.B.S.A Chapter 6

On the moonless night of typhoons and thunder—of lightning striking the ocean’s surface—it was no surprise that some creatures got swept up in the chaos. Just as naturally, a few of them ended up washed ashore by the waves.

 

So it wasn’t surprising to find three fish carried onto the beach. Rather, the surprising part was that there were only three. Whether three or thirteen, it was an absolute windfall for Ji Yeonwoo.

 

These three pinkish fish, each about 60 centimeters long, looked remarkably like sea bream (“red seabream” or *chamdom* in Korean). If so, the same method used to clean and prepare Earth’s sea bream should work.

 

But—

 

*Flap!*

 

“…It’s alive?”

 

He’d assumed all three, dragged onto land, would be dead. Yet one of them, apparently not getting the memo, was still alive.

 

*Snap!*

 

As soon as it sensed Ji Yeonwoo, the fish flipped its fins upright, like a mudskipper ready to pounce.

 

He hesitated—actually took a step back.

 

Then he stopped, and stepped forward again.

 

‘What the hell am I doing, Ji Yeonwoo!’

 

Sure, he was the wimpy Hunter who’d never ventured into a rift due to fear of its monsters. But his fear was never really about *dying*; it came from the worry of being unable to provide for his family if something happened to him.

 

Now he was in the thick of it—trapped in this frightening world with no way home. The only option was to fight and survive. If he couldn’t handle a single fish flopping on the sand, what hope was there?

 

‘I’ll catch that thing.’

 

He clenched his Hunter’s knife, knuckles whitening.

 

Sensing his shift in demeanor, the fish stared back at him. It had no eyelids, so its expression was perpetually vacant. Still, the tip of its raised dorsal fin was undoubtedly aimed at Ji Yeonwoo. A tense standoff.

 

The fish moved first.

 

*Snap!*

 

*Whoosh!*

 

Something shot out of the sea bream’s fin. Ji Yeonwoo instinctively threw himself to the side. A razor-sharp gust whipped past his cheek.

 

A **Rift-Bream** firing its spine.

 

No effect, though!

 

But the dagger leaving Ji Yeonwoo’s hand would be different.

 

—

**- Perfect Aim (C)**

—

 

*Whoosh!*

 

**Perfect Aim** was originally an F-rank skill—mediocre, neither good nor awful. It could be trained, but no one usually bothered leveling it up. Except that this particular “fool” in the rift had used it thousands upon thousands of times, honing it all the way from F-rank to C-rank. His well-practiced skill struck precisely in the Rift-Bream’s side, slightly above its pectoral fin.

 

*Thud!*

 

*Flap…*

 

The fish’s body arched like a bow, then went limp, off to join the Sea King in a single blow.

 

It wasn’t that Perfect Aim itself had such tremendous power—its effect was merely improving accuracy, not damage. Rather, Ji Yeonwoo had hit the creature’s spine, the most humane place to kill a fish when cleaning it. Normal sea breams die instantly that way, and so did a “Rift-Bream.”

 

—

– You have achieved your first hunt here.

– Your actions are being recorded.

—

 

“Huh… Do rifts normally give you messages like this? Recorded for what?”

 

He had the same knowledge as most civilians—he’d never entered a rift, so he wasn’t sure if *all* rifts showed such alerts, or if it was just this one. In any event:

 

“Probably a good thing!”

 

It was time to clean the fish. Though each Rift-Bream was easily twice the size and girth of a normal sea bream, Ji Yeonwoo’s motions were sure and swift: scaling off, snapping the spine, slitting near the tail so the blood drained into the sea. Once the blood had stopped, he sliced around the fish’s mouth and gills, cut open the belly, and removed the guts along with the gills in one pull.

 

Next, he needed to fillet it.

 

His Hunter’s knife glided like a dream. He separated the head from the torso, deftly lifted off the backbone, cut the ribs, and slid the knife along the tail, peeling the flesh away in a single smooth motion.

 

Not even three minutes to complete one perfect bream fillet. If his father could have seen him, he would’ve said:

 

> “Where on earth did you learn all this…?”

 

“Even a dog learns a few lines if it hangs around a school long enough,” Ji Yeonwoo chuckled.

 

His dad never would’ve let a child handle a knife. But Ji Yeonwoo grew up watching and mentally recording every detail whenever his father cleaned fish. As an adult, that skill had landed him restaurant jobs where he earned a bit more than the average wage.

 

“Lucky for me it’s basically the same structure as normal sea bream…”

 

The only major difference was a bizarre, afro-like fin on its head. That hooked, paper-thin bone was far tougher than other bones. Apparently, it was what it had fired at him. Indeed, one of the spines near the front of the fin was missing—no doubt the bullet-like weapon.

 

“Well, let’s keep this,” he muttered, setting it aside.

 

Other than that, from the three Rift-Bream, he got six massive fillets plus three heads and three sets of innards.

 

“Ugh… it’s a shame to toss the heads and guts when they’d make a great spicy stew.”

 

On Earth, bream heads and entrails would be prime soup ingredients. But here, in a rift with no fridge, saving them would only lead to quick spoilage. Regretfully, he threw them back into the water. As for the six fillets—each likely over three kilograms—he had to figure out how to eat them before they went bad.

 

How should he cook them? Only one idea came to mind:

 

*Growl…*

 

He grabbed some soy sauce and a tube of wasabi from his wooden spice box.

 

…

 

*Swish, swish!*

 

During his restaurant days, he’d handled well over a hundred fish a day—cleaning, filleting, and slicing into sashimi. So of course, he was adept at preparing raw fish, too.

 

He’d found a rectangular stone slab on the beach that, with his practiced eye, he recognized as the perfect rustic serving platter. He laid a piece of bream belly on top, dabbing a bit of wasabi on it. The belly had that springy resistance only the best cut can offer, and a fresh, succulent gleam teased him.

 

He dipped it lightly in soy sauce and popped it into his mouth.

 

A pleasant bite, followed by a soft, clingy fattiness that seemed to coat his tongue. Then an unmistakably sweet aftertaste…

 

“Holy… this is insane…!”

 

Yes, *insanely* delicious.

 

It was still sea bream—sort of—but a monster version might well surpass any normal bream he’d ever tasted.

 

Just then:

 

—

– You have consumed a Rift-Bream (E) from the Monster Encyclopedia.

– As a bonus, your Strength increases by 5.

—

 

“So *this* is what rifts are like?”

 

His muscles seemed to inflate with power, then settle again. He could feel every tendon and muscle fiber tighten and strengthen, as if he’d just done the perfect workout. Considering his base Strength was only 15 (his last known measure after Awakening), a +5 boost was massive.

 

His Strength stat had always been his weakness. In a Hunter world where average F-rank Strength hovered around 20, he’d had only 15. He could practically hear the voice of that obnoxious tanker:

 

> “Sure, you can land precise hits, but what’s the point if it’s like poking with a toothpick? Can’t you buff your Strength at least a bit? Quit just buffing your cooking skills!”

 

“Well, guess what? It *did* go up, jerk.”

 

He tried another bite, hoping for further boosts, but no new alert appeared.

 

“One species, one bonus. Seems like that’s it…”

 

Disappointing, but he couldn’t complain. A free +5 Strength was nothing to sneeze at.

 

He ate more pieces because they tasted good. Then a couple more, out of excitement over his Strength boost. Then many more, because he was still hungry. And then a few final slivers, wondering when he’d ever taste something so fine again.

 

Finally, stuffed to the point of discomfort, he flopped onto his back.

 

“Ugh… I can’t eat another bite all day!”

 

He’d forced himself to finish one entire fillet. That still left him with five more.

 

“I can’t keep eating it raw.”

 

As much as he loved sashimi and knew proper aging techniques, there was no fridge here—just a sweltering sun. No way he could safely let the fish sit for proper aging. If he tried to have it as sashimi again and again, he’d probably wind up with food poisoning.

 

So what to do with the remaining five fillets?

 

Fortunately, as he ate, he’d been thinking.

 

“It’s amazing how your brain starts working once your belly’s full.”

 

Ji Yeonwoo jumped to his feet and headed to the bamboo patch. Specifically, the tallest stalk—at this point, calling it just a “bamboo shoot” was almost insulting.

 

It was already six meters tall.

 

He gently placed his hand on it, bowing his head slightly.

 

“You served me well, my friend. I won’t forget your service.”

 

Bamboo in the Taebaek Mountains can grow up to ten meters or more, but all meetings must end in parting eventually. It might be a bit early, but he needed this six-meter stalk badly.

 

*Scrape, scrape… Thud!*

 

He sawed at it, and the wrist-thick bamboo fell in one grand motion.

 

“I’ll always remember you…!”

 

He cut the six-meter stalk into three sections, each two meters long. Then he sharpened the ends diagonally, crafting three sturdy spears. Up until now, he’d only had throwing knives. While they were swift and accurate, in close combat, a long weapon was advantageous. A two-meter spear would give him far more reach, and he could still throw it if necessary.

 

The first use for his new multi-purpose bamboo spears?

 

*Stab, stab, stab, stab!*

 

He skewered the bream fillets. Two of the spears got all five remaining fillets pinned and spread out like parchment scrolls, which he then planted firmly in the ground. He generously sprinkled them with pink Himalayan salt—precious, but more abundant than his MSG-infused table salt. Over time, they’d lose moisture under the scorching sun and the ocean breeze, becoming dried fish. If he wanted, he could tear off a piece anytime for roasting.

 

He watched the fillets glisten in the harsh sunlight, sea wind blowing, salt drawing out moisture. Then he hopped to his feet.

 

“This is a rift. No time to laze around just because I’m full and warm.”

 

He’d already gathered clean water from his “magic wells” earlier—around 15 liters. That was good, but the real mother lode lay in the 40-liter garbage bag he’d placed near the cliff. Time to check on that. If it was truly full, he’d be set for days.

 

“Please, I hope it’s brimming,” he whispered, heading toward the cliff.

 

He never imagined another living creature might be waiting there.