Hiding a House in the Apocalypse

Korea and China.

A trade between two fundamentally different groups, both heavily armed, and rife with mutual distrust.

No matter how peacefully it might begin, it only takes a moment for a deal to devolve into a bullet-riddled bloodbath.

To prevent that, the Chinese fell back on something they both loved and were good at: drones.

Even in direct trades, they only approached close enough to visually confirm the other party’s presence—no physical contact. All actual exchanges were handled by their industrious little friends, the drones.

“I need the transaction number.”

Of course, before the drone is dispatched, identity verification is essential.

In this era, even a drone is a valuable asset. There are always people who would snatch the drone and flee.

The Chinese had a surprisingly thorough authentication process in place.

I’d already been given the transaction number in advance.

“AXX-0300.”

I read the code from my phone and relayed it to the Chinese side. After confirming it, they asked again.

“What’s the name of the trader?”

“Skelton.”

“What items are you here to trade?”

“Game console and software. And a laptop.”

“Nothing else needed?”

“For now, just these. If I need more later, I’ll reach out online.”

“Understood.”

Unlike the clunky Korean they’d used online, the woman’s voice over the radio was smooth—fluent enough that I would’ve believed she was Korean.

Through binoculars, I spotted her standing behind the armored vehicle, half-concealed, radio in hand.

“She’s a Hunter, isn’t she.”

I spoke to Jeon Sang-hee, who stood at my side.

“A Hunter?”

“Yes.”

“How can you tell? To us, they’re all just wearing the same uniform.”

I passed him the binoculars and adjusted my sunglasses.

“She’s got an armband on her left arm, right?”

“Armband? Oh... that cloth-wrapped thing?”

“Yeah. She’s probably covering it up on purpose.”

Before the war, China had operated the world’s largest Hunter corps—over 100,000 at its peak.

Not all of them were elite, of course, but China stuck with its “old-school” Hunters until the bitter end—and fell with them.

Having served in China for a long time, I was familiar with their Hunters’ equipment and uniforms.

What she was wearing was the standard-issue Hunter uniform—identifiable even from afar thanks to its ornate armband.

That ornate insignia, practically a burial shroud for those going to their deaths, was a parting gift from the Chinese government to its Hunters. In the safety of cities, the armband brought admiration and attention. On the battlefield, it made them a prime target.

Especially for fanatics—who prioritized killing Hunters above all else. So much so that even with a three-star general standing next to one, they’d shoot the Hunter first.

As the Hunter hunts intensified, Chinese Hunters began switching to makeshift combat gear—some similar to Korean Hunters—or, like this woman, covering their armbands with cloth to avoid standing out.

I explained all this to Jeon Sang-hee.

“Wow... I had no idea. First I’ve heard of any of that.”

Not surprising—China had only sent soldiers to us, never their Hunters.

“That said... she’s just as beautiful as the rumors claimed. Could pass for an actress.”

She really was.

Not just ‘pretty’ or ‘cute’—but truly beautiful, with a refined elegance to her.

Still, what caught my attention wasn’t her face, but the unusual weapon strapped to her wrist.

I didn’t know the exact mechanics, but it seemed to have at least three launch ports for small projectiles.

A chu-ko-nu, maybe?

The same Hunter weapon used during the Gold Gang incident.

The Chinese Hunter I fought then was confident in close combat but didn’t seem to use her Hunter weapon much. Maybe this woman was the one who wiped out the Golds ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) alone.

But then...

“....”

Was it just my imagination?

Her eyes shimmered faintly.

No, that couldn’t be.

China never allowed Awakened. Even if the old Chinese government had fallen, I doubted they’d reverse that policy so easily.

“Who here is Skelton?”

The woman’s voice came through the radio again.

I raised my hand.

“You’re Skelton?”

“I am.”

“Why are you wearing sunglasses and a mask?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

“I have many enemies.”

“Enemies?”

“Yes. I’m surrounded by them. I can’t just go showing my face.”

“Ah, I see. Then it can’t be helped. Sending Xiao Xiao now~”

Flawless Korean. This woman spoke perfect Korean.

So why the awkward phrasing online?

While the thought lingered, the drone approached, buzzing softly.

Of course, King’s men didn’t sit still.

Clack! Clack!

Anti-air guns and surveillance equipment trained themselves on the drone, four 7.62mm machine guns mounted together in a makeshift battery.

False alarm.

The drone was laughably clunky—like someone had slapped some fans onto a big plastic box.

The sides were made of clear acrylic, letting you see its contents—very typical of a delivery drone.

It resembled the prototypes used in the global unmanned drone delivery network Melon Mask had once envisioned.

I loaded 600g of silver and spoke into the radio.

“This being our first trade, I’ll limit the exchange to goods worth 600g of silver.”

“Got it.”

The drone lifted, flew to the Chinese camp, then returned carrying goods.

I inspected them.

The game console and cartridge IAMJESUS had requested. The laptop for myself.

Naturally, I tested the laptop first.

Keyboard response was fine, battery status decent. It had signs of use—but regular, careful use. Actually preferable to something left idle for years.

“How’s the product?”

The Chinese asked.

“It’s good. I’ll check the rest later.”

“If there are any problems, contact us anytime, Skelton.”

“Understood.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

With that, the drone flew off, and the Chinese were gone.

So were we.

It was a clean transaction.

Surprisingly clean for a post-war deal with the Chinese—almost unbelievably so.

“Guess the rumors were right,” Jeon Sang-hee said, clearly impressed.

Of course, that doesn’t mean the Chinese were being 100% sincere.

They wouldn’t go to all this trouble without some ulterior motive.

“Eventually, they’ll stab us in the back.”

Jeon’s thoughts mirrored my own.

I asked him, “So you’re never planning to deal with them again?”

He gave me a look and replied flatly, “Of course I am.”

I looked at him silently. He continued.

“You remember those theme stocks from back in the day? Obvious pump-and-dumps—everyone knew it. So why’d people still invest?”

“I wonder.”

He grinned.

“Because everyone thinks, ‘I won’t be the one left holding the bag.’”

I couldn’t help but smile too.

Fair enough.

We all have that instinct.

I think I’ll try trading with them again—without going through King.

If they ever discover who I really am, things won’t end with just a few exchanged bullets... but even so, opportunities like this don’t come often.

I’ll need to make a list and contact them again before winter comes.

Maybe even sooner, depending on IAMJESUS.

“That guy Hunter Park’s going to meet,” Jeon suddenly muttered.

“He’s been alone in that city for over a year, right?”

“Sounds about right.”

“...Yeah. I’m kinda worried.”

For the first time, Jeon’s face showed concern—real concern.

Even in front of the Chinese, he’d smiled.

Maybe he had a fear of zombies?

As I looked at him in silence, Jeon suddenly asked,

“You think he’s still... okay?”

*

As soon as the trade was done, I headed straight for IAMJESUS’s city.

From afar, the city appeared washed in a pale, ashen hue—not from monster corrosion, but as if shrouded by the shadows of the dead who now inhabited it.

Woooo—

Woooo—

The closer I got, the more the haunting chorus of zombies pressed down on my chest like a heavy weight.

“Please wait here for a while.”

We couldn’t take Jeon Sang-hee’s security team any closer.

Part of it was because he didn’t trust IAMJESUS—but I knew him well, too.

IAMJESUS was a recluse.

Even before he gained his immense power, he was reluctant to open up, and once he shut someone out, no words or promises could get through to him.

Now that he had the power to command tens of thousands of zombies and destroy anything in his way, it was all the more true.

So I left the convoy behind.

What I took instead was Baek Seung-hyun’s motorcycle.

“So, Skelton. The trade with the Chinese went well?”

I exchanged a quick transmission with King before heading in.

“Of course.”

“Good. And you haven’t used the gold bar yet, right?”

“Not yet. I figured I’d give IAMJESUS the stuff he asked for and talk to him—see what else he needs.”

Buying him gifts blindly without knowing what he really wanted would be a waste.

I needed to talk to him first. See what he needed. What he wanted.

“....”

Jeon Sang-hee’s words echoed in my head.

Is IAMJESUS really okay?

A rude question.

But also, a fair one.

Humans break easily. Surprisingly easily.

The moment your will snaps, you change—into something entirely different.

Maybe IAMJESUS’s father, who met his second death by my hands, had the same concern once.

“IAMJESUS. It’s me. Skelton. Skelton.”

As those thoughts swirled, I tried contacting him.

A burst of static. Then:

“Skelton...?”

The transmission connected.

“Yeah, it’s me. I brought everything you asked for. Where should I go?”

“Wait. Wait! I’ll send someone!”

His voice had changed.

It still held that youthful tone, but now there was a deeper, stronger resonance to it. A sense of power I hadn’t heard before.

Had he grown...?

In this city of the dead?

I didn’t think the zombies would’ve taught him anything.

They just moved according to his commands. Puppets, nothing more.

Maybe, as Jeon Sang-hee feared, they had warped him.

Shff— shff—

A female zombie approached.

She had a dried flower stuck in her hair.

And something about her struck me instantly: she wore a bridal veil.

Not one she’d worn in life—the suit underneath suggested that much.

But still... a wedding veil?

She carried a hatchet and walked toward me in slow, deliberate steps.

Then, without a word, she stopped in front of me, turned in an odd motion, and started walking ahead again.

“Is this zombie mine? The one in the veil?” I asked into the comms.

A reply came quickly.

“Say hi, Skelton! That’s Jane. Jane! She’ll guide you!”

“....”

Something felt wrong.

Not just the zombie with the veil—but the strange, overly excited voice of IAMJESUS coming through the radio.

I followed Jane, pushing the motorcycle alongside me.

The streets were deserted—no zombies in sight—but the sound of their voices echoed all around, like a mad, invisible choir.

Soon, Jane entered a building.

It was damaged in places, but clearly once a grand corporate HQ.

About 49 floors, judging by its height.

Even beneath the looming shadow of the skyscraper, not a single zombie was in sight.

I led the bike inside—my only lifeline, after all.

The moment I stepped in, multiple figures blurred before my eyes.

Zombies.

Female zombies.

Every one of them.

And not just any women—by pre-war standards, they were attractive, shapely, alluring.

Their outfits were all different.

One wore a pure white wedding dress. Another, tight leggings that showed off every curve. One even had on a cheerleader uniform like you’d see at a baseball game.

Judging by the way they were dressed, these weren’t outfits from life.

IAMJESUS must’ve dressed them himself.

“Skelton! Skelton!”

His voice rang out again over the comms.

“You’re almost here, right? I hear footsteps!”

We climbed the stairs and stepped into a wide hallway.

It was packed with female zombies dressed in all manner of strange outfits.

And standing in the center—

A man I knew well.

Or... thought I knew.

Gaunt, skeletal. But unmistakable.

“IAMJESUS!”

He wore a mask.

One that looked like it was made from a person’s face.

And that mask—there was something familiar about it.

I had seen it before. Somewhere.

Then it hit me.

A photo. From the pre-war internet. A church, a preacher—

It flashed across my mind like lightning.

“....”

Was it... his father's?