The Field of Stones

Garam had been on the treadmill for a while when he quietly stepped off.

Jaehun had told him to keep exercising, but since the man wasn’t around… a short break couldn’t hurt.

Grrrrgle.

His stomach growled.

He used to go entire days without eating, but after a few days here, he’d gotten used to regular meals.

Now his stomach had the nerve to demand food.

“There’s nothing, okay? Nothing.”

He scolded his stomach lightly, patting it like an unruly pet — when the sound of a door opening made him freeze.

Jaehun was back.

Panicking, Garam scrambled back onto the treadmill, jogged in place for a few seconds, then got off again — wiping imaginary sweat from his forehead.

“Phew, that was rough. You’re back?”

Jaehun, still holding his flowerpot, stared at him with that unreadable gaze.

He stared long enough that Garam actually began to sweat for real.

Then, Jaehun dropped a few cans of food onto the table.

“Whoa!”

They almost hit the ground — Garam threw himself forward to catch them, only to bang his shin on the table edge.

“Ouch!”

As he rolled around clutching his leg, Jaehun reached into his coat and produced a familiar red potion.

“I’m fine! Totally fine!”

Garam waved his hands wildly, refusing the potion.

He remembered how expensive those things were on the black market.

He didn’t want to owe this man any more than he already did — if you could even call this owing.

After all, he’d already been force-fed enough blue mana potions to last a lifetime.

He’d rather not drink another thing from that man again.

“Is this… dinner?” he asked carefully.

Jaehun nodded.

“Yes.”

Only then did Garam dare to open a can.

This time, it was chicken.

No beef, of course.

Beef required grass-fed cattle — a rare luxury in a ruined world.

Even if some existed, it was probably reserved for the elite.

Still, Garam grinned to himself as he ate.

He finished every bite before Jaehun motioned for him to follow.

Together, they went out behind the house.

Jaehun pointed to the ground.

“From now on, you’ll grow plants.”

“…Sorry?”

“Production-types gain quests by repeating actions related to their job,” Jaehun explained.

Garam understood — but his face fell as he looked down.

The “field” was a patch of ground packed with rocks and dry, compacted dirt.

“Here? Seriously?”

Jaehun nodded as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Here.”

Garam grimaced.

You couldn’t plant anything in ground like this.

You had to till it, break it apart, and pick out every single stone.

“Wouldn’t this be… too much work? The soil’s terrible.”

“Is there special soil for farming?”

“Well, at least it’s not a rock field!”

“Then pick out the rocks.”

“Me?”

He already knew the answer.

“Who else?”

You, obviously!

But he didn’t have the courage to say it.

So he crouched down with his hoe and started digging.

One rock.

Two.

Three.

He worked like an ox, from sunrise to sunset.

And still, the stones never seemed to end.

“I can’t! I’m done!”

Days passed, all of them filled with the same endless labor.

Finally, Garam threw down his hoe and collapsed.

“Just kill me instead!”

He screamed — only to hear a calm voice behind him.

“That wouldn’t be very productive.”

Jaehun.

“What’s bothering you so much?”

“Everything! Everything! How am I supposed to do all this alone?!”

“You’ve cleared quite a bit since last time.”

“That’s because I’ve been working nonstop like a beast of burden! I can’t do it by myself anymore!”

“I see. Then I’ll bring more people.”

And just like that, Jaehun walked off.

That evening, he returned — dragging two men who looked like they’d been beaten to a pulp.

“Use them.”

He tossed them toward Garam and went back inside.

The two men looked rough — big, scarred, and mean.

Definitely the kind of people you avoided outside the city walls.

“Aw, hell,” one of them spat at Garam.

Judging from their clothes and behavior, they were probably bandits or thugs.

Normally, Garam would’ve been terrified.

But after spending days breaking rocks under the sun, fear was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

“Hey. No cursing,” Garam said flatly.

“What’s it to you if I curse?”

“Never mind that. Here.”

He handed each of them a short blade — their edges bent slightly, courtesy of Jaehun’s “kindness.”

“What the hell’s this? A weapon?”

“No. A hoe substitute.”

“…A what?”

“From now on, we’re clearing this field of rocks.”

“Why should I?” growled the bald one with a face that practically screamed trouble.

“I’m Kang Jung-bae! I don’t do this kind of crap!”

The younger, better-looking one nodded quickly.

“That’s right, Jung-bae hyung. You’re not the manual labor type.”

They really were quite the comedy duo.

“So you’re not going to do it?” Garam asked sweetly.

“Hell no!”

“Okay, hold on.”

Garam turned around and walked back into the house.

A few moments later, he returned — Jaehun following behind.

“I told him you didn’t want to work,” Garam said.

What happened next didn’t need to be described.

The two men were beaten like dogs.

Soon enough, they were back in the field, grudgingly hacking at rocks with their bent blades.

“Told you so,” Garam said with pity, resuming his own work.

“Damn it,” Jung-bae grunted. “Why the hell are we even doing this?”

“Yeah, seriously,” muttered the younger one.

“You have to clear the rocks and till the soil several times,” Garam explained.

“Why?”

“So we can grow crops.”

“Why are you talking down to me?”

“Because I can. Feel free to talk down to me too.”

Garam flashed him a bright, infuriating smile.

“Hah?”

Jung-bae tried to get up, but the younger man held him back.

“Calm down, hyung! What if that psycho comes back?”

The younger man’s name, Garam later learned, was Park Deok-pal.

Both names sounded like they came straight out of an old comedy skit.

“That brat’s mouthing off like he owns the place!” Jung-bae shouted.

“You cursed first, old man.”

Garam raised a middle finger without looking up.

Jung-bae clutched his chest like his blood pressure had spiked.

“Just do your work, hyung,” Deok-pal sighed.

“Yeah, let’s just work,” Garam added. “At least they feed us.”

“I shouldn’t be living like this!” Jung-bae roared.

But reality didn’t care.

A week passed.

Thanks to his two “helpers,” the field was finally cleared.

Garam’s body felt lighter for the first time.

Now, the real farming could begin.

He pulled out the seed set he’d received when he became a farmer — carrots, potatoes, and sweet potatoes.

Fifty of each.

‘Planting seeds shouldn’t be too hard.’

He remembered a children’s book he’d read long ago in the orphanage.

Dig a hole.

Drop in the seed.

Cover it with soil.

Water it.

Done.

Of course, in a normal world, every crop had its own growing season — but Garam didn’t know any of that.

And Jaehun definitely didn’t, either.

So he’d just have to trust luck.

“Watering can!”

As he spoke, a small blue watering can popped into existence.

It had been stored in his inventory — the one perk of being awakened.

“What the— you’re an Awakened too?” Deok-pal’s eyes widened.

“Yeah.”

“I see…”

“So,” Garam said, smirking, “have you given up on running away yet?”

Deok-pal hesitated, then nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I finally figured out who this house belongs to.”

He leaned closer and whispered.

“Step back. Don’t whisper so close to my ear.”

“What if he hears us?”

“Then we’re dead. So talk fast.”

“You know about Rankers, right?”

“Yeah. The top thousand strongest Awakened.”

As Garam tilted the watering can, clear water trickled out, soaking the soil.

It was oddly satisfying.

“Right. And among them, there’s one at the top — Rank 1. People call him the Mad Dog.”

“The… Mad Dog?”

“Yeah. Because he fights like a lunatic — and because he does crazy things.”

“Like what?”

“Like… always carrying around a flowerpot.”

Garam froze.

“…Seriously?”

“Dead serious. So you see why we’re not running, right?”

Apparently, they had tried escaping before.

Even though Jaehun fed them, living outside and doing manual labor was miserable.

But every attempt ended the same way — Jaehun caught them.

Once, he even threatened to cut off their hands, saying, You can still work with one.

After that, they stayed put.

“Given how strong he is… yeah, it’s gotta be him,” Deok-pal said.

“Maybe you’re just weak,” Garam muttered.

“Hey! That’s not it! We’re both Awakened, okay? Not Rankers, but still pretty strong.”

“Sure. You two are great at moving rocks,” Garam teased, waving a hand dismissively.

“Whatever. I’m just going to water these.”

And with that, the farmer went back to his field — humming softly as he sprinkled life into the dry soil beneath his feet.