Hiding a House in the Apocalypse

"Skelton...?"

Apparently startled, IAmJesus even removed his mask as he muttered.

Message from CrunchRoll: What’s this? Outta nowhere?

“Look.”

Still smiling, I pointed to the screen.

“King’s a person. A real human being.”

“?”

I kept typing.

iamjesus: You little shit... wanna throw down?

I heard IAmJesus stumble backward.

The surrounding zombies also reacted with slight agitation.

Sure, I know that kind of talk is vulgar.

But when you're trying to convey something real, does it really matter whether your words are crude or polite?

Message from CrunchRoll: What, you on drugs now? This little shit—baby him a little and now he’s acting up?

iamjesus: Golden apple.

Message from CrunchRoll: You’ve finally gone insane, huh.

“Look.”

“Look at what?”

“King’s just a person. An ordinary guy. Say something he doesn’t like and he drops the act right away.”

There was a flicker of light in IAmJesus’s eyes—brighter than anything I’d seen in them before.

Right then, I messaged my most beloved and resented partner: VivaBot.

Message from VIVA_BOT014: Huh? What did you say? You're Skelton?

I sent verification immediately.

Message from VIVA_BOT014: Ah. That checks out. The one with you is the Korean board’s Awakened, right?

Message from VIVA_BOT014: What the hell are you doing? Again?!

iamjesus: (Skelton – serious) Can you set up something like a video chat? Like the one Melon Mask used on Live! Apocalypse!?

Message from VIVA_BOT014: It’s not impossible, but... why all of a sudden?

iamjesus: (Skelton – politely) It’s really important. I want to connect two users.

Message from VIVA_BOT014: It’s not that I can’t, but do you even know what time it is in the U.S.?

iamjesus: (Skelton – teary-eyed) A narcissist like me is holding back from posting on Twelvesquare just for this, you know...?

Message from VIVA_BOT014: Sigh...

Message from VIVA_BOT014: (VivaBot sighs) Just this once, okay?

And just like that, the private line between IAmJesus and King was connected.

It kicked off hot.

Two masked men appeared on their respective monitors, starting the talk.

“You little shit. What the hell did you do? Using a feature like this, huh?”

King, shouting through his mask, suddenly went quiet.

His expression was hidden, but he was probably smiling.

He saw me.

“Ah. So that’s what this is.”

I patted IAmJesus gently on the shoulder as he stood frozen, like a frog before a snake.

“Go on.”

Is there a more accurate saying than “well begun is half done”?

“Ah, ah, ah.”

Wearing the face of his father, IAmJesus was finally taking his first step—one that had been long, long overdue.

“...yourmam.”

Maybe birds are beautiful because they look their best when they first leave the nest.

But humans aren’t birds. We stumble, fall, and flail through the world—clumsy and messy.

“Stop sending me weird messages! Your girls? All ugly as hell!”

“What? You little idiot?! Do you even know who I am? Do you know how many people I’ve got under me?”

“W-Well, I’ve got tens of thousands of zombies too!”

Doesn’t matter how it looked—the king of the dead and the king of the living were now connected.

The dam had broken.

What kind of current would flow through the channel—they’d have to decide for themselves.

“······.”

In the corner of the screen, King quietly raised a thumb.

I tried to find hope in that small gesture.

*

“Oh ho. Is that so?”

Jeon Sang-hee, surprisingly, used to be an ordinary office worker before the war.

Not a trained soldier. A non-doomer who probably never imagined himself holding a gun. But when the collapse came, he repeatedly proved he was more suited to survival than most.

“You’re more composed than I expected...”

Still, I think luck had a lot to do with it.

“It’s kind of hard to believe, though.”

Considering he’s so full of prejudice and quick to jump to conclusions, it’s amazing he made it this far.

Then again, people like that did tend to thrive before the war.

And I don’t think there’s any need to persuade someone like him.

People with egos that bloated don’t change just because someone tells them to.

Yet even someone like him is eager to ride the tide when it comes.

Not in terms of language, but in the form of circumstances—maybe that makes it easier for him to follow.

If you look at it broadly, maybe those two aren’t all that different.

“Oh, Skelton.”

King is someone who shapes and drives those tides.

“Was that your idea?”

The way King laughed behind his mask—casual, open—was something people like Jeon Sang-hee would never witness.

“I took a good hit, but it wasn’t bad.”

He held out a drink to me.

“It’s already dark.”

“Spend the night.”

“Just don’t stick me with a woman again, like last time.”

“Of course not.”

“By the way, how’s the kid you brought doing?”

“Seemed quiet at first, but once she settled in, she got a bit wild.”

“Well, she did seem like the type.”

Bringing Sue had been a good call, it seemed.

There was a minor hiccup along the way, but nothing major.

Still, from now on, I’d need to keep a healthy distance.

“I heard there’s some kind of succession issue.”

Swirling the drink King gave me, I brought it up.

A sensitive topic—but now felt like a safe time.

King nodded without much resistance.

“You get that everywhere. Leeches trying to mooch off what others built with sweat and blood.”

“I heard even a cult got involved.”

“That blabbermouth Jeon Sang-hee... couldn’t keep that to himself, huh.”

“Well, thanks to that, we get to talk about it like this.”

King let out a sigh.

“Just your usual power struggle.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s always been fighting.”

King looked at a metallic cylinder in the corner of the room.

If I remember correctly, that cylinder holds the zombified corpse of his predecessor.

Lately, he probably forgot all about it—because there hasn’t been any movement inside.

King wasn’t looking at the cylinder itself, but beyond the mask, his gaze mirrored the time and era that corpse once looked upon.

“Even back when we were just a tiny raiding crew trying to rebuild this garbage dump of a city, the fights never stopped. Everywhere you go—there’s always someone who wants to be in charge. Always someone who wants to make the decisions.”

“True enough.”

Even in a tiny neighborhood apartment complex, people fight over who gets to be the building rep.

King himself nearly died from an internal conflict.

It was only by awakening his ability at the edge of death that he survived and rose to power.

Now, he’s beginning to pay the price for that.

For him, conflict seems to be an inseparable part of life.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“It’s the same old story. Some assholes stirring up shit down below. Doesn’t matter if the scale’s bigger now.”

“The cult group’s gotten pretty big. Started small, but it’s growing fast. A lot of defectors from the North joined in too. They’re not a joke anymore.”

“Well, I’m not a joke either.”

King looked across the table toward the laptop.

“But that friend of yours might handle it even better.”

“You mean IAmJesus?”

“Yeah.”

“So, how’d it go? What did you think of the conversation?”

I was curious.

What, if anything, did King take away from that mess of a dialogue?

“Nothing much, really. Honestly.”

“Yeah?”

I stared at him intently.

King, realizing the weight of my gaze, lifted his chin.

It was a gesture as if telling me to speak.

“...I noticed you sent some really weird messages to IAmJesus.”

“Oh, that?”

“They were almost like spam emails.”

“Really?”

This guy...

He rarely posts on the forum, so I had no idea how he interacted with the internet. But looking at what he did to IAmJesus, it was the perfect, textbook definition of spam mail.

And the lowest kind—adult advertisements.

“You ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) really thought sending stuff like that would get IAmJesus to come around?”

“Heh, wasn’t he all about women? Isn’t that what every guy is like? Unless you’re gay, every guy loves women, right?”

“That’s a pretty narrow way to look at things.”

“No, guys are supposed to like women, it’s natural. Even that useless idiot Jeon Si-hoon had a girl with him, right?”

“...”

Clearly, IAmJesus isn’t the only one who needs some education.

King could use some lessons in internet etiquette too.

As a seasoned instructor, I decided to drop some knowledge on him, pausing every now and then to sip my drink.

“The worst thing on the internet is self-promotion. Even if you’re hot shit, you have to stay humble online.”

Just like me.

“And you can’t force things on people. No commanding them around. If you don’t like something, sure, you can say it, but you can’t make demands. The internet’s different from real life—if you block someone, you never have to see them again.”

Of course, I also shared the valuable knowledge I’d gained from cleaning my own desktop.

“IAmJesus, he doesn’t like women with big chests. And his tastes are a bit... special.”

“Ho, is that so? IAmJesus, huh. I didn’t know he liked that kind. Guess I’d better find one of those women right away.”

“No, even if you know his preferences, don’t push it too hard. You’ve got to ease them into it, little by little.”

And then I told him the most important thing.

“I had a feeling from the start that this was gonna work out.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

King showed some interest.

It’s a pretty basic prediction.

It all started with IAmJesus reaching out to me.

He sent me the first message, and the conversation began.

“IAmJesus must’ve been really lonely. He kept holding back, but eventually, he couldn’t hold it in anymore and sent me a message again.”

To summarize, even if it wasn’t me, someone else would’ve given him the right opportunity to come out of that cold city.

But it wouldn’t have been King.

In the end, it was through King, but without me as the catalyst, that connection would’ve never happened.

In that sense, I can't say I have no claim to credit.

“By the way, that gold bar. You don’t need it, right?”

“Take it.”

That’s probably why King so casually gifted me the massive gold bar.

But despite all this good fortune, there’s a nagging worry that’s been hovering over me like a storm cloud.

“IAmJesus. What do you think about him?”

The issue I brought up from the start.

The question of IAmJesus’s qualifications.

King answered without hesitation.

“Who else would it be? Just like you said. He’s a useless piece of shit. Total trash.”

King laughed out loud.

“Then he’s dangerous, isn’t he?”

King shook his head and looked straight at me.

I couldn’t see his expression behind the mask, but I knew he was smiling.

“I was trash too.”

“Really?”

“How about you? Skelton?”

“Me?”

Hmm, it feels a bit awkward to say this about myself, but if I’m being honest...

“I’ve been an ace from the start.”

“Trash, huh.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you were bottom-tier.”

“?”

The rest of the conversation is a blur, probably thanks to the alcohol.

I think we talked about pointless things.

From women’s tastes to sexual jokes, casual stories from before the war, and future plans, both grand and small.

I don’t remember King’s grand plans for the future, but I do vaguely recall sharing mine, despite the hangover.

I think I said something like this:

“I’m going to be the last human standing. In Shangri-La.”

I’m not entirely sure what Shangri-La is supposed to be.

Maybe it’s the survival zone I heard about from Woo Min-hee between the rifts.

I hope the point where the rifts overlap falls within my territory.

“Skelton! Look! King gave me loads of juicy stuff!”

At least one thing’s for sure—this trip was a success.

I got a gold bar, and Sue got a bunch of delicious snacks.

“I really like it here.”

But for Rebecca, this might not be all good news.

It looks like we both forgot one thing.

The dream-filled girl will always long for the bright city.

“...I wish I could live with Skelton.”

“What about your mom?”

“She’s annoying too. She just doesn’t say it, but she’s getting on my nerves, seriously.”

Unlike before, King didn’t send us off.

I figured it was because he wasn’t feeling well in the morning.

I already knew his mind was made up during the pointless conversation over drinks.

Relentlessly, King will try to convince and discipline IAmJesus.

Just like he’s done with every fight in his life.

“Good morning. As promised, I’ll take you to a nearby place.”

We left the city in Jeon Sang-hee’s armored vehicle.

But as we drove, the smell of burning filled the air, and people were bustling around, with plenty of onlookers gathered.

Had something happened?

“What’s going on?”

I asked Jeon Sang-hee.

He rubbed his nose casually and answered nonchalantly.

“Looks like the reporter from yesterday is dead.”

“Really?”

“It’s pretty common around here.”

I looked at him intently.

He glanced at me and then asked,

“What, you got a problem with that?”

“No. Nothing at all.”

Just yesterday, he’d said that the reporter guy was a threat to King’s position.

Looks like in his delusion of being smart, he has to constantly change his thoughts and positions to survive.

Anyway, with our own stories to carry, we turned our backs on the final city.

I watched the endless smoke rising in the distance, lost in thought.

One day, that smoke will disappear.

After a few more springs and summers pass.

I wonder if we’ll survive this peacefully for that long.

One thing’s for sure.

The cylinder where King’s predecessor used to stay is now empty.