Park Ki-soo, a civil servant working at the Ministry of Health and Welfare, was compiling a year’s worth of statistics.
As a civil servant, this was the busiest time of the year for him—the end and beginning of the year.
All the work piled up during this period. Of course, it wasn’t as grueling or overwhelming as the workload of the Election Commission. He was preparing a report on how often citizens fell ill over the past year.
Every year, he worked on compiling data called the “National Disease Statistics of Public Interest.”
You know, illnesses like colds, enteritis, and rhinitis—common diseases people catch in their daily lives. He was investigating how often citizens got these diseases throughout the year and compiling the statistics.
This data was important because it helped map out how to take care of citizens’ health in the coming year.
While crunching the numbers on his computer, Park Ki-soo stumbled upon an unexpected figure.
“What’s this? Why did the numbers drop so drastically starting from June?”
Statistics, being a collection of large numbers, usually stabilize even if there’s a spike. Comparing last year’s data to this year’s, the number of illnesses should’ve been roughly the same.
Of course, there was a slight difference in illnesses affecting babies. Fewer babies were being born, so the numbers were lower. But for adults, the numbers should’ve been similar since the adult population hadn’t changed.
However, the statistics his computer spat out were different. Starting from June, the number of mild illnesses like colds, flu, and conjunctivitis had dropped dramatically. Serious illnesses like strokes or cancer hadn’t changed much, though.
Scratching his head, Park Ki-soo decided to recompile the statistics. Maybe the computer had made a mistake. After all, machine-generated stats always needed a double-check.
But even after recalculating, the numbers were the same. That meant the computer wasn’t at fault. Was there something wrong with the data he received?
After spending half a day looking into it, he still couldn’t find the cause. Starting from June, the number of patients with mild illnesses had dropped by nearly half. It didn’t make sense.
“Ki-soo, are you still staring at the computer? Aren’t you going home?”
“Ah, Manager!”
He was so focused he hadn’t even noticed his manager standing behind him.
“I’m compiling the statistics, but the numbers are weird. It’s giving me a headache.”
“What? How can the statistics be wrong? You’re just compiling the data, right? What could go wrong?”
“That’s what I thought, but take a look at this.”
Park Ki-soo moved the mouse to show the screen.
“What’s this? Why are the stats like this starting from June? Did you mess something up?”
“No, I didn’t. That’s why it’s so frustrating. A spike for a month or so is understandable, but the numbers have been like this since June. It doesn’t make sense.”
Colds, body aches, and winter illnesses had dropped by more than half compared to last year—almost 70-80%. And it had been like this for half a year. His brain couldn’t process it. If the numbers were this skewed, reporting to his superiors would be a headache. He’d have to find the reason.
Even if it wasn’t exactly the same as last year, it should’ve been close to a similar ratio.
“This is giving me a headache.”
“Right, Manager? That’s why I’ve been crunching numbers all day. Did citizens start taking some kind of super serum or something?”
You know, like the dreamy pills from movies that turn people into superheroes. Take one, and you’re immune to most diseases while gaining superhuman strength. Of course, such a thing couldn’t exist in real life.
“Now that you mention it, haven’t fewer people in our department been taking sick leave? Since summer, not a single person has taken a sick day. Usually, there’s one or two every month.”
“You’re right. Did the country secretly develop some kind of disease-preventing drug or food? Maybe some shadowy organization behind the scenes?”
“Your imagination’s running wild. You’re not into some weird cult, are you?”
“Manager, you know I’m not religious.”
“I don’t know. Anyway, wrap it up and go home. Working late only ruins your health.”
“Got it.”
With that, the manager left. Park Ki-soo was still curious about the statistics. Did South Korea secretly start selling food laced with some health-boosting drug? Otherwise, there’s no way citizens would catch fewer colds like this.
Of course, he wasn’t wishing for citizens to catch colds. He was just puzzled about why the numbers turned out this way.
*Kkorr…*
Rumble-
Even though it’s evening, I still haven’t eaten yet. Park Ki-soo rummaged through the drawer. Inside the drawer were Starlight Cherry Tomatoes. They were the perfect food to eat when you’re this hungry. Just eating one was enough to feel full, which was great.
“Now that I think about it, I haven’t caught a cold either.”
Park Ki-soo wasn’t particularly strong either. So, like an annual event that comes every winter, he usually caught a cold, but this year, there was no sign of it.
“Could it be because of this?”
Park Ki-soo looked at the packaging containing the Starlight Cherry Tomatoes and spoke. Even he thought it was an exaggerated idea. It’s just food, right?
So, Park Ki-soo turned off his computer and prepared to leave work. Since there was no answer anyway, it seemed better to get a good night’s sleep and gather statistics again tomorrow with a fresh mindset.
—————————————————————————–
Gyeonggi Province, Starlight Farm.
Except for Tangle, other farms also started building barriers. In Tangle’s case, they shortened the construction time by increasing the construction budget indefinitely. So, it was almost complete. To enter Tangle Farm, you had to go through the open entrance or climb over a huge barrier.
The barrier had no footholds and was incredibly high. If you wanted to enter the farm from anywhere other than the entrance, you had to risk your life to climb over it. There were surveillance cameras installed in the middle, so now the risk of theft at Tangle had dramatically decreased.
Of course, there would still be crazy people who would try to climb over despite the height, but the number had significantly decreased compared to before.
At Starlight Farm, trucks were lined up waiting. Today was the regular day for crop shipment. The crops at Starlight Farm grew not once a year, but twice a month, so multiple trucks were essential.
Today, a new employee who joined Starlight Food with a senior colleague asked out of curiosity:
“But how do you ship crops every two weeks?”
The new employee who joined this week was a complete blank slate. So, naturally, they were curious about the scene that defied common sense. Normally, crops are harvested only once a year, right? Although there are crops that can be harvested multiple times a year.
“The crops we grow at Starlight Food are special. I don’t know the details, but I heard their growth rate is incredibly fast.”
“Really? Crops that grow that fast? That’s amazing.”
There were sacks full of rice grains piled up. Watching them being loaded one by one onto the trucks was a sight to behold. There’s probably no place in South Korea that does mechanized farming like this. Other places might use tractors at most, but using construction machinery here was beyond comparison.
I thought maybe American agriculture does something like this. America has such vast land that they even use planes for farming. And the scale is insane. It’s common to farm on a plot of land the size of South Korea. America’s territory is 100 times larger than South Korea’s.
That’s why they say there are people in America who live their entire lives without leaving their state. Each state has an economy and population comparable to other countries. They’re so big that calling them “states” feels inadequate.
“You’ll be working all day today, so eat well. Even though Starlight Food isn’t known for being tough, days like today, when we ship grains every two weeks, are intense.”
“Yes!”
The new employee looked at the piles of rice sacks on the plain and wondered:
Who on earth buys all that rice? And they ship it every two weeks?
The same situation was happening elsewhere.
