How strong is the human ability to survive?
It varies slightly depending on factors like a person’s physique, age, gender, race, and other conditions, but there’s a general standard for human survival.
One of the most well-known ideas scholars refer to is the “Rule of 333” for survival.
A human can survive for about 3 minutes without air, 3 days without water, and 3 weeks without food.
Since they had found water, one could say they had put out the most immediate fire.
However, if they didn’t find food, they would be in serious trouble soon.
Surviving for three weeks without food, as the 333 survival rule suggested, would be nothing more than barely hanging on to life.
To maintain the health necessary for activity, they had to secure food as soon as possible.
Fortunately, this deserted island had plenty of coconut trees.
Even without climbing the trees, one could see several fallen coconuts lying around.
The problem was figuring out how to crack open these hard fruits.
At first, they tried smashing them against rocks and hitting them with stones, but they were so tough that they didn’t even get scratched.
“On TV shows, they crack them open so easily. Was it all just editing?”
But when people are desperate, they find solutions.
They wandered around the island and gathered the sharpest stones they could find.
Then, without any particular technique, they just sharpened the stones as best they could.
They made something like knives. With these stone knives, they were able to peel the coconuts.
They could cut down trees and slice grass into thin strips to make ropes as well.
This might be how early humans felt when they first discovered tools.
Mark Miller let out a slight chuckle as he used the stone knife to crack open a coconut.
“There’s no one more like a caveman than us.”
“What?”
“Uh… I mean…”
Mark Miller hesitated for a moment, then pointed his finger at Seojin. It was a habit he had before explaining something.
He imagined a man from the Stone Age, hunting, building a tribe.
Miller, deep in his imagination, began to act out the scene quite convincingly.
At first, his acting had been a bit awkward, but not anymore.
The acting class he took in college turned out to be pretty useful. If he had known, he would have put more effort into it.
Seojin, watching Miller, soon burst into quiet laughter.
“What are you doing?”
“Caveman (/primitive man/).”
“Primitive man. It’s like you’re describing someone from the Stone Age.”
“Yeah, exactly. And your pronunciation is spot on.”
“But what does ‘pronunciation’ mean?”
Mark Miller made sure to explain everything in as much detail as possible whenever Seojin asked a question.
And each explanation led to more questions, making time pass quickly.
As their time on the deserted island stretched on, they gradually expanded their food sources.
Humans couldn’t survive on just coconuts, right?
They lifted rocks in the shallow waters to catch clams and crabs.
They also crafted stone knives and spears by tying sticks together with grass. With those, they were able to corral fish.
Of course, nothing was easy.
There were days when fishing turned out to be a complete failure.
Since they didn’t have fire, they often ate food raw, which sometimes caused severe stomachaches.
There were days when they had a fever, and other times when they had a cough.
Still, they continued living each day.
From morning until evening, they did what was necessary for survival while carving distress signals throughout the island.
For reference, they decided to conserve the flashlight Seojin had as much as possible. Since they didn’t know how much battery was left, it was a decision made to save it for important moments.
Over several days, they also built a shelter.
Though it was crudely made by weaving together wood, grass, and palm leaves, it was usable in its own way.
Eventually, they solved the basic needs of food, clothing, and shelter, and they gradually adapted to life on the island.
However, there was one thing.
Even though they had spent such a long time here,
The rescue team hadn’t shown up anywhere.
***
Seojin, who had been counting on his fingers several times, quietly spoke as he looked at Miller.
“182 days.”
“Has it really been that long already?”
“It’s hard to believe, but... do you think... we’re being forgotten like this?”
“Forgotten?”
“A plane crash is usually treated as resulting in death, right? Especially with such a large-scale accident, the survival rate is extremely low. And after 180 days... they’ve probably spent a lot on the rescue efforts, too...”
Seojin’s English had improved dramatically during this time.
With nothing much else to do aside from survival activities, Seojin had been eager to converse with Miller whenever he had free time. It was essentially like having a personal 24/7 English tutor. It was easy to understand why he had started speaking like a native.
Come to think of it, he seemed to speak English better than kids his age from English-speaking countries these days.
His vocabulary and way of thinking—none of it seemed like that of a typical 12-year-old.
Miller, lost in thought, recalled what Seojin had said earlier and asked him again.
“So?”
“I was just wondering if, because of that, they might have stopped the rescue operation. If that’s the case...”
It was the direction the conversation was expected to go.
In a place like this, after being abandoned for such a long time, wouldn’t anyone start having thoughts like that?
But Miller couldn’t just let Seojin think that way.
To stop Seojin from speaking, Miller flicked his forehead.
“Ouch! Why did you do that all of a sudden?”
“Don’t be such a baby. And for the record, if you keep thinking negatively, only negative things will happen. The rescue team is coming, and we’re going to be saved in the end. And in style, too.”
“How can you be so sure...? Ouch! Again?!”
“If you’re a kid, act like one and just complain about the food. Why are you worrying about weird stuff?”
Seojin grumbled while holding his forehead, but Miller stood up, turning away from him.
Miller knew full well that Seojin wasn’t entirely wrong.
By now, the rescue team’s efforts must have been weakening in reality.
There was even a possibility that the survivors had effectively been declared dead.
‘But...’
If one gave up, nothing would happen.
Mark Miller had never lived that way.
Not when he had to give up the Chopin Competition because of tendinitis (inflammation of the tissue surrounding the tendons that connect muscles to bones).
And not when, after switching his career to become a composer, he faced hundreds of rejections. He had never given up.
Miller was able to become a musician who could make a living from composing because he had done just that.
But Miller wasn’t satisfied with just that.
‘There’s no way I can end my musical journey so half-heartedly.’
That’s why he had to survive.
‘Moreover... there’s one more reason I absolutely have to survive.’
Mark Miller thought of Seojin.
There was something Seojin had told him around the time he had gotten fairly good at speaking English.
It was the story of Han Seojin, who had started playing the piano at the age of eight and had been tirelessly practicing until now, at the age of twelve.
He had tried practicing for ten hours a day.
He had spent entire days just listening to music.
Yet, he was troubled because his skills weren’t improving.
He placed 5th, 6th, or 7th in every competition he entered.
He felt increasingly distant from winning any prizes, and the constant frustration weighed on him.
Even so.
That boy said he couldn’t quit because he loved music too much.
‘It was like looking at my younger self...’
His heart ached a little.
He didn’t know if he was qualified, but he wanted to become the boy’s teacher. He wanted to help, even in a small way.
To do that, he had to leave the island.
Then, he wanted to see Seojin become a wonderful musician.
Seojin was a naturally bright child.
With enough opportunities and time, he would surely become a great musician.
While thinking such thoughts, Mark Miller trudged along the sandy beach.
* * *
Even life on a deserted island occasionally brought some changes.
There were times when trash would wash ashore, and if he occasionally found something useful, it would significantly change his life on the island.
A stroke of luck, as they say.
To someone else, it might sound strange. But for those living a primitive life like his, this so-called “trash” could be a great help.
For instance, he had once picked up a torn net. After some deliberation on how to use it, he tied the knots together to patch the holes, and it turned into a decent hammock.
The result?
“A comfort that doesn’t sway...”
He could still vividly recall how much Seojin had liked it.
He also crafted a fishing rod using some metal sheets, and pieces of cloth that had drifted ashore. He cut the metal into thin strips to make hooks, and pulled threads from the cloth to fashion a fishing line.
Thanks to that, their fish haul had significantly increased.
It was much more efficient than spearfishing.
Thus, as always, Mark Miller wandered the beach in search of treasure today. Of course, the main goal was to look for a rescue team, but he might as well do both.
While doing so, Mark Miller spotted something unusual floating in the water.
A long, oval-shaped plastic container.
As Miller stared at the familiar shape for a while, he suddenly let out a gasp.
“Ah!”
It was an object that any musician would recognize at once.
A guitar case was floating in the sea.
Miller quickly racked his brain.
At first glance, the case looked quite clean. It didn’t seem like simple trash.
If that’s the case, it’s highly likely that it’s drifting in the ocean due to some ‘unfortunate accident.’ The items inside the case might still be intact.
If there are a few functional items in that case...
If, by any chance, there’s even a phone inside...
Or at the very least, a lighter...
With that thought, Mark Miller immediately dived into the ocean.
The distance to where the case was floating was roughly 200 meters. Fortunately, the waves weren’t high. He was in decent shape, so swimming seemed manageable.
However, strangely, the distance didn’t seem to shrink at all.
It felt like the guitar case was drifting farther away from the shore.
Was there a spot near the island where the currents change?
Going further might be dangerous.
Should he give up now?
“Hah… hah…”
Though his breath was becoming ragged, his mind grew sharper.
What if this was the last chance?
Could you give up?
“Phew…”
That’s not an option.
Mark Miller simply used all his strength to push forward.
* * *
Darkness.
It felt like a deep, dark void was unfolding before his eyes.
He saw himself sobbing, clutching his wrist, on the final stage of the Chopin Competition.
The people around him came into view, and their expressions were varied.
There were those who were pleased that a competitor had been reduced.
Those who were consumed by sorrow.
Spectators who feigned concern.
Gossips, appearing delighted by the unfolding drama.
But then.
Somewhere, a sound of crying could be heard.
A voice quite familiar.
Humming? Wasn’t that what I heard last time?
He didn’t know.
He was too disoriented to open my eyes, yet someone kept calling me.
Ah, it was a bit annoying.
But despite that, the call was so strong.
Mark Miller took a deep breath.
Only the first breath was difficult, and after that, his breathing naturally followed.
He must have been breathing so heavily that his head spun.
Gradually, his vision began to return.
And finally, he could see who the crying child was.
“Han Seojin.”
For the boy to cry like this.
When he taught him properly later, he would have to also show him how to be more manly.
As Mark Miller regained consciousness, the memories of his last moments came rushing back.
‘I think I was holding the case tightly. Or wasn’t I?’
His memory was a bit uncertain.
But just as he remembered.
In his arms was a black guitar case.
