The Druid Who Devoured the Great Nature

There were always days like that in life.

The kind of day when one woke up feeling oddly refreshed, only to find they were late. After hastily throwing on clothes and rushing outside, every traffic signal seemed to turn red. And of course, that day just happened to be the one when something important was scheduled.

It was the sort of situation that made one wonder if the whole universe was conspiring against them.

I often experienced that kind of thing when I was younger.

If I counted, it happened about once every two weeks.

Later, I learned that I was supposedly born with a twisted fortune, destined to suffer hardships only to receive blessings in my old age.

But since it was just some fortune-telling I heard at a street cart, it wasn’t exactly credible.

I’d gone for a fortune reading, and instead of analyzing my birth chart, the guy laid out tarot cards and started talking about physiognomy. How was I supposed to believe that?

Regardless, one thing was clear—I had bad luck.

And whenever that bad luck struck, my mood sank to rock bottom.

To make it worse, most of the misfortune ultimately stemmed from my own problems, so other people’s comfort didn’t mean much to me.

What else could I do?

I had to endure it on my own.

…And while wallowing in that loneliness, I suddenly awakened to a certain ability.

It was none other than—

The ability to commune with plants.

That didn’t mean that when I reached out my hand, vines coiled around my wrist, or that I could have literal conversations with them.

It wasn’t like I had some secret about my birth and carried the blood of elves or druids, so such supernatural powers were impossible.

When I watered them properly, gave them sunlight, adjusted the humidity, and supplied nutrients, the plants grew healthily.

If I neglected them for a few days, I could see their condition worsen with my own eyes.

There was even a time when that pseudoscience—that plants grew better when praised—was popular.

If that wasn’t proof of communion with plants, what else could it be?

The important part was that I felt it to be true.

Even if someone mocked me, saying I was out of my mind for fussing over plants alone, I stood firm.

Wasn’t green said to be a color that soothed body and mind?

Just like that saying, the verdant glow of greenery comforted my life.

When I failed my first attempt at the college entrance exam, the weeds pushing through the cracks in the concrete consoled me.

When I broke up with my girlfriend, it was the pine trees behind my house. When I was berated by my boss, it was orchids that soothed my heart.

Plants had accompanied me through every rise and fall of my life.

And since I drew comfort from them, wasn’t that enough?

I marveled at the mystery of lobelia that bloomed day and night.

I was captivated by the splendor of forsythias blossoming in abundance.

I was enthralled by the resilience of monstera that endured disasters with strength.

Even the common weeds on the roadside each carried their own unique charm.

So of course, it was only natural that I developed an early interest in rural living and farming—a dream that most people, jaded by society’s harshness, only considered later in life.

Of course, it remained just a dream. I didn’t have the means to make it happen.

In a studio apartment smaller than ten pyeong, even maintaining a small vegetable garden was difficult.

Besides, I was still too young to turn away from society and live with nature as my only companion.

That was when I stumbled across a game.

Fantasy Punk, or FP for short—a single-player RPG.

A unique fantasy world where magical engineering had advanced to great heights.

Because of its obsession with industrial progress, utility poles stood out more than street trees, and trash bins were more common than shrubs.

It was hard to find greenery in that world.

While this detail added to the game’s charm, I thought differently.

Wouldn’t the world become perfect only if it could achieve harmony with greenery?

How fulfilling would it be to simply buy a house and cultivate even a modest vegetable garden?

Besides, this game prided itself on its immense freedom, and players thrived on creating all sorts of concept plays.

There was even a popular run-through where someone rejected the game’s foundational industrial era and led a Red Revolution as a naked madman.

So if world domination was possible, then surely my modest goal wasn’t impossible.

I decided that in this place, I would realize the dream I couldn’t in reality.

A fierce wind howled.

When I said the cold pierced the skin like ale, it wasn’t an exaggeration.

The air, sharp as blades, tore fragile skin to shreds and shattered even tough carapaces like brittle glass.

Even adventurers willing to risk their lives for riches dared not step foot here.

That was why this land was forbidden.

And yet, I had set foot there.

“……”

With this, my exploration meter hit 100%.

The notification window praised my feat with all kinds of fanfare.

I didn’t even glance at it.

In the end, the exploration had failed.

“Not here either.”

I sank down onto the ground, using my oil-stained cloak as a cushion.

On Earth, plants could be found even in Antarctica and the Arctic.

But in this game, surprisingly, that wasn’t the case.

Search for hardy plants in forbidden lands—failed.

“Who knew trying to make a small vegetable garden in a game would be this hard?”

Was the world once again conspiring against me, like when I was a child?

I lifted my gaze into the distance.

A colossal city filled my vision.

Unlike Korean cities, where each neighborhood usually had its own hill, this one had none.

It was a concrete jungle, all sterile shades of gray.

Breathing in, the polluted air stung my nose, and the soil underfoot had lost all vitality, crumbling easily.

“I knew it wouldn’t be easy.”

It was still easier than the naked madman’s Red Revolution, but my playstyle still defied the world’s setting.

Even so, I never expected it to be this difficult.

“How many attempts has this been already?”

I lost count after thirty.

Not only was the game itself difficult, but trying to defy an entire world’s design through gameplay was no ordinary challenge.

Plants grew but withered, their fruits dried out, and nothing ever truly thrived.

Cultivating even a mere ten-pyeong garden was harder than becoming a landlord.

Some regions fared slightly better… but those were just minor exceptions.

They didn’t change the bigger picture.

Recently, I’d tried requesting magical research from the Tower of Magic or even hiring corporate labs for personal projects.

None of it worked.

Perhaps the soil itself had fundamentally lost its fertility; all solutions were merely temporary.

No matter what tricks I tried, it simply wouldn’t work.

I couldn’t even dream of prosperity for the plants, and before I knew it, I’d spent hundreds of hours in this game.

And then it hit me.

This wasn’t just about making a little garden. To succeed, I would have to overturn the game’s entire worldview.

That was how I ended up becoming a veteran in a game I had originally only touched for a bit of healing.

“There has to be some way.”

I sat with my chin resting gloomily on my hand.

The appeal of FP lay in its vast freedom.

Overturning the worldview was difficult, but it wasn’t impossible.

The problem was, no matter how hard I tried, my concept play never advanced beyond a certain point.

It wasn’t as if the developers had hard-locked the system…

“Even digging through the Magic Tower, or using the intel of megacorporations, I couldn’t find a single clue.”

Even after becoming a high-ranking mage of the Tower, I couldn’t make sense of it.

Even after consulting corporations that practically controlled the national economy, the solution was still shrouded in fog.

After repeating failure after failure, I no longer had the slightest idea of where to begin.

“Maybe I need to become a mayor or something.”

In this age of explosive technological progress, nations had crumbled, and cities had become autonomous states.

Instead of central governments, regional warlords held power.

The mayor of a metropolis was practically almighty.

If only once, I could have harnessed national-level resources for my own ambitions.

I’d have to pay the price afterward, of course… but then I could just move on to the next playthrough.

What mattered now was to at least open the floodgates somehow.

At this rate, no matter how many times I repeated the cycle, it was just a waste of time.

“Still, it’s impossible with this character in this run.”

This character’s path was too far removed to dive into politics.

Whether in reality or in a game, politics wasn’t something one could recklessly jump into without preparation.

“Then I’ll have to try it in the next round.”

I wore a bitter smile and reached for the logout button.

That was when it happened.

「Unwavering love for nature!」

「For the first time, a Nature Affinity stat has been created!」

「You can now change class to Druid!」

“…?”

My eyes widened as I read the message.

Nature Affinity. Druid.

It was something I’d never seen before—not in the game itself, not even on the community sites.

“What the…”

A hidden piece.

Normally, it would’ve been just another flashy, useless gimmick since my goal wasn’t to clear the game. But this time was different.

Druids were, by image, guardians of nature.

At last, I saw the path.

All the pointless struggles up to now had been a journey leading to this moment!

“Ch-change class.”

With trembling fingers, I hovered over the selection button.

And then—

「A new game begins!」

Fwaaaah!

The world flooded with light.

Yet the brilliance wasn’t blinding.

It wasn’t real light, but more like an artificial pigment brushed on to depict light—unnatural, surreal.

I gasped, my body stiff as stone.

My rigid mind couldn’t process the bizarre changes before me.

Cr-crack!

Hairline fractures spread across the overpainted world, like cracks on a mirror.

An ominous sound rang in my head, and then…

Clang!

The world shattered.

Like glass breaking apart, fragments of reality scattered.

The sky collapsed.

The ground split, the city crumbled.

The ominous tremor shook not only the earth but the very air.

Even the apocalyptic scenarios I had experienced in this game had never been this dramatic.

It was nothing short of a catastrophe.

“W-what the hell!”

Staring blankly, I frantically hammered the logout button.

“…!”

There was no sensation under my fingers.

No sound effect.

Nothing.

The system gave no response.

As if the whole thing had broken down.

“Son of a—!”

My defiance was pitiful before this cosmic phenomenon.

The world collapsed, and at last, even my body shattered into fragments.

Amidst the unbearable agony of my limbs tearing apart, I lost consciousness.

Fssshhh!

Black, grimy machinery filled the inside of a building.

Hot air spewed out through pillars.

The booming thud of a reciprocating cylinder echoed like the beat of a heart.

The stench of oil stung my nose.

Sweat evaporated the moment it formed, turning to steam that clung damply to my skin.

Molten steel, like flowing lava, ran across the factory floor. Sparks flew, serving as torches that lit the darkness.

“Haa… haaa…”

“Grhhk!”

“Arghhh!”

In the suffocating heat that made opening one’s eyes difficult, machines were worked by laborers in ragged clothes.

Everywhere, only screams of pain rang out.

Turning pulleys, tilting blast furnaces—dangerous work that risked lives.

If even one person faltered, dozens would be melted alive in molten steel.

Frightened and exhausted, they still had to scream and wrench out every last ounce of strength.

Crack!

“You worthless vermin!”

“Move faster!”

“How the hell do you expect to meet today’s quota working like this?!”

Just when exhaustion was about to consume them, the sight of vile overseers and wretched fellow laborers brought back grim clarity.

The whip’s sting was no mere sting.

It pierced skin with the pain of a thousand needles, stealing their breath.

A whip alone was mercy.

If molten steel splashed, not even a corpse would remain.

“Stop! Hold it right there!”

At the veteran’s command, they halted the pulley and locked the furnace in place.

An automatic locking device?

There was no such thing.

Stopping the furnace from tipping back relied entirely on human strength.

“Done! Slowly, return it!”

Even then, no one dared relax until the furnace was safely back in position amid the flames.

Only then did the laborers collapse where they stood.

So did I.

“…Haaah! Hhhk!”

My body wouldn’t move.

After such grueling labor, I was in complete ruin.

Panting, I looked around.

All I saw were smoke-belching machines.

Wretched laborers and vile overseers.

Factory compounds, identical as if copied and pasted.

When I opened my eyes, this was my reality.

I had become nothing more than a laborer—practically a slave—in a factory.

“……”

Amid all this, the only thing unchanged was the shimmering message on the edge of my vision.

I enlarged it.

「You are a Druid!」

「As the last Druid, revive the great nature!」

That was the only reason I endured this wretched life.

(End of Chapter)