Chapter 2

If you see the true ending, you can return home.

What are the conditions for the true ending?

When I played the game normally (well, as normal as a kimchi-farming sim can be), around year five, I saw an ending. But that doesn’t mean it was the TRUE ending. At best, I’d completed about 30% of the game.

Even though I worked pretty dang hard, it seems I need to triple my efforts just to get back home. And even worse? The conditions aren’t exactly clear, so who knows how much longer this will take.

Thus…

At minimum, if I work hard, I’ll be here for FIFTEEN YEARS before I can go home. And if I don’t figure out the conditions? I might be stuck here FOREVER.

So yeah… I’ve gotta hustle.

There’s no way I’m spending fifteen years in this place.

In games, protagonists are absurdly busy. In the early stages, our hero’s health bar often turned bright red from sheer exhaustion. Same goes for me now.

But here’s the kicker: in the game, the protagonist would wake up fully refreshed every morning, their stamina maxed out like clockwork. They were basically a superhuman work machine, repeating the same tasks day after day without fail. Respectful, sure, but also kind of ridiculous.

I dunno if those rules apply to me though…

“Huff… Huff…”

*Chop.*

*Chop.*

Is any progress being made? Hard to tell. The axe is barely visible through the sweat dripping into my eyes.

My wrists ache, and my palms are turning bright red.

My head spins. My sweat-soaked clothes stick to my skin, radiating unbearable discomfort. What seemed easy in the game—clearing dense bushes, chopping trees, breaking rocks—is now an insurmountable wall for me.

Why didn’t I realize sooner that cutting down ONE tree could require hundreds, maybe THOUSANDS of axe swings?! Even switching to thinner branches hasn’t helped much.

The protagonist in the game? They chopped down trees with ease in just a few swings. Totally on another level.

Exhausted beyond belief, I collapse onto the ground in a heap, not caring about the dust coating my body. All around me lie half-cut trees and scattered foliage.

How long has it been? Not sure. My watch is probably at home, but even the short distance feels too far to bother walking.

Complete… exhaustion.

This is what separates games from reality. After just one day, it became painfully obvious that “healing” or “relaxation” isn’t something you can just rely on. The letters I wrote earlier feel like nonsense now. Talking is easy; living it is another story.

“My stomach… hurts… I’m tired…”

Looking at my empty belly makes me laugh bitterly. This is real life. In the game, the protagonist never ate because they were hungry—they only consumed food to restore stamina or gain buffs. Early-game strategies involved resting in bed or recovering health in saunas while optimizing efficiency. Was the protagonist even human?

Reality’s protagonist? Weak. Needs feeding. Stamina drops fast.

With fading consciousness and blurry vision, I try to pull myself together. As I lie there near unconsciousness, I feel the sun’s heat blocked by a shadow.

“Hello?”

A cheerful voice snaps me awake. Struggling against dry throat and gritty eyes, I manage to open them.

“…Uh…”

Before me stands a stunning blonde woman. If she were in the game, she’d likely have been rendered as a basic 2D sprite—but here, she’s breathtakingly beautiful in real life. Familiar yet strange.

“You must be Minho. I’m Anne. I just moved into the Rabbit Farm nearby and wanted to say hi.”

Minho… my name is still the same.

My thoughts grow sluggish. Physical fatigue dulls everything, making my mind float lazily. She’s beautiful. That thought comes first, before anything else.

Nice to meet you. Welcome to the neighborhood. Let’s get along well.

I wanted to respond politely, but exhaustion swallowed my words. All that came out were faint murmurs.

“Yeah…”

“Are you okay?”

To her question, I weakly nod.

“Oh good! I brought some recovery drinks. Want one?”

Again, I nod. A vibrant yellow juice fills my vision. Gratefulness forgotten, my hand instinctively grabs the drink, driven by primal survival urges.

Even holding such a light object shakes my trembling hands. Like guzzling fuel, I shove the juice into my mouth. It’s like drinking pure life force.

Anne saved me. Literally.

Amazingly, after drinking just a bit of the beverage, vitality starts coursing through my body again. Goosebumps rise as I finally thank my savior properly.

“Thank you.”

“Just curious about the new neighbor.”

“You’re my lifesaver.”

She smiles warmly at my comment. Her beauty shines brighter under the harsh circumstances. Wiping sweat off my face with a damp sleeve, I notice her glowing complexion catching the sunlight.

“I’ll visit again soon. Next time, let’s meet when you’re less exhausted.”

“Maybe…”

I lower my raised body back onto the dusty ground with a soft thud. Dust clouds rise around me.

The rough texture of the earth presses against my skull. Turning my head slightly, I gaze at the chaotic mess of my farm.

Tree. Rock. Tree. Rock. Bush. Bush. Bush. Tree. Rock. Rock. Bush. Tree…

Following my line of sight, Anne’s eyes move too.

“Hmm… Yeah, I can see you’re really hardworking…”

“Not by choice though.”

“Hang in there.”

“Thanks.”

Did this event exist in the original game? Not sure. Either way, it feels like manna from heaven.

Anne leaves, and somehow, I find enough energy to stand up again.

Should I start digging through trash cans in town?

Who knew a single drink could be THIS powerful? Now I understand why homeless uncles search through dumpsters for food.

Human dignity? Forget about it when you’re this tired. I seriously considered it for a moment but shook my head. Too risky, and it wouldn’t be polite to invade someone else’s dumpster territory.

“Guess I’ll do it at dawn then…”

Still, giving up on checking the tavern and shop dumpsters feels wasteful. When your fridge is empty, all sorts of ideas pop up.

Shaking off the dust from my tattered clothes, I prepare to resume work. No matter how much dust enters my mouth or nose, I pay it no mind.

“Back to work.”

*Chop.*

*Chop.*

Starting the hundreds of axe swings again. Even if tomorrow brings muscle pain, my goal remains: cut down one more tree. Survival demands it.

Muscle pain? Who cares. Tomorrow’s problems are tomorrow’s.

For today, I’m armed with determination and grit.

*

“Nah, I’ll grab the fishing rod from Maxim tomorrow. Will he give it to me? Can I stop by the beach?”

Every part of my body aches. Every movement sends waves of soreness through me.

Pen in hand? Arm hurts. Trying to walk? Legs hurt.

Sitting down? Stomach cramps. Eating? No appetite. Plus, no food anyway.

Finally, the darkness falls mercifully over the first day.

Glancing at the clock—it’s just past 7 PM.

In the game, the first day usually lasted until 1 AM. Laughing bitterly at the gap between gaming and reality, I reflect on the differences.

A game day lasts 24 hours, with seasons replacing months. One week equals seven days, and each season consists of eight weeks, totaling 56 days per season. Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter each last 56 days.

Though different from Earth, the concept is similar enough. Surprisingly, crops grow faster due to magical improvements and special soil in Starwind Valley. Some plants mature and harvest within four days, including the ones I planted today.

“Hmph.”

How am I gonna earn money?

Black ink scrawls chaotically across my notebook filled with plans and schedules. Gold (G) and Silver (S)—the currency units tying both my game and real-life existence.

No village chief will collect crops for me nightly. Money-making methods? Hmm…

Fishing. Cooking. Mining. Combat. Farming. Gathering. Exploration. Crafting. Magic. Achievements.

Everything—including warehouse and inventory systems—seems overwhelming.

Without proper bags or storage, clearing the messy yard proved impossible. Why chop wood anyway? Building a warehouse was supposed to be the early-game goal, but without tools or space, it’s futile.

Once a tree falls, you must break it into manageable pieces. Reflecting on its purpose led me straight into existential despair. “Why am I doing this?”

Don’t expect mini-games in fishing. Cooking requires recipes and ingredients, plus actual effort. Mining will drain stamina similarly to chopping wood. Combat sounds terrifying—will a doctor appear magically if I fall?

Gathering seems easiest, though converting it into cash is tricky. Selling clams, mussels, and oysters from the beach won’t yield much unless used as gifts.

Tapping the table with my pen, I scratch my head. At least there’s a shower in the bathroom. Otherwise, I’d be hauling lake water daily.

Modern conveniences mixed with medieval settings make things bearable. Blessings to whoever designed the functional restroom system!

“Should I sleep?”

Struggling to stay awake, my brain fogs over. Scribbling random lines becomes my sole activity, barely legible due to fatigue.

Recovery is necessary for tomorrow.

Lying down on the bed, I drift off almost instantly.

“What is this?”

[Welcome to Dream Mode!]

A white room. Messages pop up randomly.

[Choose an option!]

[Mod Unlock]

[Convenience]

[Dream Coins]

Instinctively drawn toward the mod options, gamer instincts kick in.

[Mod Unlock]

Professor [700kG]

Minimap [500G]

Industrialization [2M G]

Bag Expansion [1k G]

Work Speed Boost [250k G]

Warp Device [20k G]

Equipment Slots [10k/200k G]

Smart Spirit [7k G]

High Quality [75k G]

More UI Options [500G]

Additional Crops/Cooking/Recipes [8k G]

Shortened Crafting Time [55k G]

Encyclopedia [100k G]

Extra Magic [32k G]

“Woah!”

Game mechanics DO exist! There’s hope yet!

Unfortunately, mods remain unfamiliar territory. Light user here—I blindly trust recommendations.

Still, a smile spreads across my face. Having ANYTHING helps immensely.

Skimming through convenience options reveals plenty of useful stuff.

[Convenience]

[1. Equipment]

[2. Metals]

[3. Skills]

[4. Enchantments]

[5. Economy]

[6. Achievements]

[7. Cooking]

[8. Crafting]

[9. Unlockables]

[10. Daily Life]

“Wow, they have EVERYTHING?”

This makes things playable now. Thank goodness!

God blesses me with unexpected knowledge of the system’s potential.

Exploring various sections shows minor adjustments reflecting real-world needs. Storage, cooking, eating—all critical essentials—are covered.

Prices seem reasonable enough to spark immediate interest.

Useful items abound, ready to revolutionize my experience.

Swapping all 500G into dream coins, I dive into shopping.

“Give me bags, warehouses, and food!”

Got to eat first, right?

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