Ch.2626. 6 Feet.

# 26. Six Feet

Obviously, there are limits to human endurance.

Unlike machines that can move forever as long as they don’t break down or run out of battery.

“I need to find somewhere to rest soon or I’ll be in danger… but I don’t see anything around.”

It had been three days since I left the city.

The drone had been hovering beside me through three mornings and now into the third night. In other words, I hadn’t been able to sleep either and had stayed awake the whole time.

The only rest I’d gotten was when I ate canned food to fill my stomach and lighten my bag, or when I leaned against my backpack for brief naps during the slightly warmer daytime.

“I can vaguely see something in the distance, but it would take several more days of walking to reach there.”

The city that had once seemed so large and tall was now buried in snow and no longer visible, just like many other cities I had passed through.

And my consciousness seemed to want to follow the city, constantly trying to sink below the surface of sleep.

I can see what looks like a white structure far away, but it’s not a distance I can travel in my current condition. I feel like I could collapse at any moment.

“Sigh, I’ve never experienced such emptiness before… I guess the distance to the next city must be quite far.”

Until now, there had always been buildings or structures in the snow between cities, albeit rare.

Like how large rest stops exist along highways in desolate deserts, there were traces here and there of attempts to build rest stops or small cities between the larger ones.

Since these were unfinished areas, the buildings were collapsed or had gaping holes where windows should be—not places to stay long.

Still, they were adequate for sheltering from the cold and wind for a few days, which had been a big help until now… but I hadn’t seen any such place recently.

“Ah. My legs really won’t move anymore.”

My legs gave out again. I clearly thought I was lifting my leg, but it refused to rise from the snow.

I guess this is as far as I go. I slowly put down my bag and lean against it, breathing heavily.

“I need to rest and fill my stomach. Where did I put those hard things…?”

With numbed hands, I tap my legs that I can’t feel anymore and take out a deliberately hard, stick-shaped food from my bag and put it in my mouth.

The cold and drowsiness prevent me from tasting anything anyway. I needed the sensation of chewing more than flavor.

“…Hahaha, maybe I should have brought something like a tent, even if it was heavier.”

Like the lid of the snow removal box I used for bathing. Or various metal sheets lying around on the road.

If I had made holes in them and tied them with wires to make a sled, I could have carried a large tent and more supplies.

“In areas where my feet sink deep into snow, pulling a sled would be difficult to balance, and if I fell or the sled flipped over, it would be stressful each time, so I just brought my familiar backpack.”

I sigh deeply, thinking I should have brought more despite the difficulty, if I’d known there would be nothing out here.

[You should rest a bit, or you’ll collapse!]

[Collapsing isn’t the issue—you could die. Isn’t there anywhere to rest?]

The messages showed concern, as people could see how precarious my condition was.

“Hehe, collapse? I lasted 24 more hours after that. With extreme, extreme difficulty. But… now I really feel like I’m going to collapse. I wouldn’t be surprised if I suddenly dropped while talking…”

This wretched snow. Wretched cold. Wretched darkness.

I think I used to like snow when I was young, but now I just hate it.

“I’m reminded of an old saying: ‘All a human truly needs is just six feet of space…'”

Just six feet. If I had about 180cm of space, I could safely spend the night away from this wind and snow.

I’m in one of the most vast and wide open places, yet I don’t have even 1cm of space for myself.

“…Of course, the six feet that person meant wasn’t shelter from the cold, but the place where one is buried after death.”

Humans are born, meet many people, encounter many things, and look upon the wide world—but everyone’s end is the same: buried six feet under.

That saying could be taken as advice not to be too attached to material things or suffering in the present, since everyone dies eventually.

But it could also sound like a negative prophecy that no matter what I do or achieve, the result won’t change—which makes me feel conflicted.

I wonder which meaning of “six feet” I’m thinking about right now.

“Anyway… realistically, I don’t think I can expect to find anything by wandering around more. The only visible thing is that structure in the distance that looks smaller than my pinky nail, and my legs are in this terrible state.”

I gripped my walking stick tightly and struggled to get up from the ground. As much as I wanted to rest more, falling asleep in a place like this might mean never waking up again.

“So I’ll try to build a house right here. A house made of snow.”

A snow house. A quinzhee.

I’ve never made one before, nor learned how to make one. But I know what they look like.

It’s a type of shelter people have been making since ancient times, so even someone clueless like me should be able to imitate it.

“I have a shovel… and plenty of snow has piled up, so it’s better to try than freeze to death.”

I untie the shovel from my bag and grip it firmly. It’s the same shovel I used for bathing in the snow removal box.

“I should pile it slightly taller than my height… like a mound, right?”

Since snow was abundant, piling it up was quite easy.

Slightly higher than my height, and for the width, I’m not sure, so I’ll make it semi-circular.

I pile snow from bottom to top, gradually, then pile fresh snow on top to form a semi-circular shape.

“I think I’ve got the basic shape… what do I do next? Do I just dig out the inside?”

Tilting my head in confusion, I dug at the bottom of the snow pile with my shovel.

Immediately, as if mocking all my efforts so far, it collapsed from the top.

“…It collapses right away. I guess I need to wait for it to freeze.”

After piling up fresh snow, I need to wait for it to freeze solid.

Fortunately, the outside temperature was so low and the wind so cold that it wouldn’t take long.

“By the way, if I dig out the inside right now, wouldn’t the wind just blow straight through?”

When I was young, the igloos and quinzhees I saw in videos always had a long, low entrance along with the semi-circular structure.

Back then, I vaguely thought they were shaped that way for aesthetics, but it was actually to prevent cold wind from entering.

“How did people in ancient times, with no knowledge or resources, come up with something like this?”

While they may not have had as much knowledge, perhaps ancient people had more wisdom in utilizing what they had. With this thought, I continue piling up snow.

“Whew… I guess I’ll wait for it to freeze.”

A semi-circular body with a low, long entrance extending in the direction opposite to the wind.

The overall appearance is bumpy and shabby, clearly showing it was made by a beginner, but it’s my first time making one and no one else will see it, so it’s fine.

What’s always important is function over appearance. Anything is better than sleeping outside.

[Won’t you freeze to death if there are no buildings around?]

While waiting for my snow house to take shape and freeze, a chat message arrived.

Struggling to focus my blurring eyes to read the text, I chuckled.

“That’s right. I’m afraid of freezing to death, so I’m working hard to build a house. I’m really trying all sorts of things.”

In this futuristic era where almost nothing is simple, I’m building a house with my own hands that people only made in the distant past.

If this weren’t a desperate attempt to avoid freezing to death, it would be quite romantic, I think with a giggle as I tap on my creation.

“Wow. It’s gotten really hard already. Now I just need to dig from the bottom, scrape, scrape, and remove the snow, right?”

Perhaps because of the cold weather, the piled snow quickly froze solid.

After clearing some snow around the house, I sat down and began shoveling out the entrance area.

Contrary to my worry that it might collapse if not fully frozen, the outer shell was perfectly frozen, so it didn’t collapse when I dug out the bottom.

“Wow, this is harder than I thought. I’m sweating all over.”

Scraping out snow and removing it. Then scraping more and removing it again.

Though it’s a simple repetitive task, going through the low entrance took more energy than I expected.

I almost collapsed several times while moving the excavated snow outside.

“But… it’s complete!”

After moving the last of the dug-out snow outside.

I brought my lonely backpack from outside and placed it at the entrance to block the incoming wind.

And suddenly, despite being made of snow, I had a house that was much warmer than outside.

When I lie straight, this space is about a span longer than my height—probably about six feet.

With that thought, I roll around on the floor covered with the blanket I had been using as a scarf and cape.

“Is it because there’s no wind touching my skin? It feels even warmer than during daylight hours.”

Despite looking bumpy and shabby from the outside, the ceiling is sturdy, so it seems I could rest here without worry for a few days.

The only potential problem is that with just one entrance blocked by my backpack, I might run short of oxygen.

But that’s easily solved by making a small hole with my knife on the side away from the wind.

“Ah. I feel proud and good. I’m really glad I decided to bring the shovel despite its weight.”

I, who had always forced my way into houses made by others and lived in by others, had finally made my own house for the first time.

It’s unsightly, and I’m still alone in the snow field, but I felt incredibly proud. Enough to smile despite my frozen face.

“I wonder if I could light a fire in here? I think ancient people used to light fires inside houses like this… but I’m not sure.”

Building a house from scratch means there’s nothing to lose if I fail.

But if I light a fire now and my knowledge turns out to be wrong, or if I miscalculate, the house I worked so hard to build could melt immediately.

“I don’t want to risk it. It would be beyond sad if the house collapsed now. I could literally freeze to death. My energy is completely drained, so if the house collapses, I’d be crushed to death…”

I sigh and stretch out flat on the floor.

“Ah… I think I heard that spraying water on the walls makes it warmer. It works on the same principle as sweating when your body heats up, I think.”

Water absorbs a lot of heat, so spraying water makes it cooler… conversely, when water freezes, it releases heat, making it warmer.

Half-believing, I opened my water bottle and sprayed some inside, and surprisingly, I could feel the indoor temperature rising.

“Now I can really sleep well. It’s warm around me, and I can barely hear the wind. I’ve got a perfect house that I never expected.”

I really thought I was going to freeze to death this time. Giggling… I slowly take off my clothes.

“Still, I should wipe off my sweat before sleeping. Catching a cold in a place like this would be disastrous.”

Even though I’m so exhausted I can barely move a finger, the thought of suffering from a cold makes me endure.

I start by removing my gloves and shoes, then slowly take off my clothes. Of course, I’ll have to turn off the drone before I properly remove my top and bottom.

“Well, good night everyone. It’s been days since I turned off the drone. After sleeping warmly in this house… I’ll definitely turn the broadcast back on tomorrow morning, so don’t worry and sleep well too.”

Hugging the drone that has already turned away, I say goodbye and shut it down.

“Yaaawn…”

After wiping the sweat from my body and lying down, all the sleepiness I had been holding back came rushing in at once.

I didn’t resist my heavy eyelids and fell into a deep sleep.