Hiding a House in the Apocalypse

Before the war, I had read a satirical comic about social issues that had been on the best-seller shelf. It touched on the problems that were being discussed at the time, such as conglomerates, vested interests, historical issues, regionalism, excessive competition, and greed. However, it didn’t mention the actual issues that everyone knew about and that were genuinely problematic.

It was about the generation gap.

If the conflict had been merely a cultural or era-based conflict, it wouldn’t have been much different from the typical generational disputes that have existed since the time of Socrates. But the conflict at that time extended beyond cultural or temporal experiences; it was connected to survival, linked directly to money.

I don’t think the author was unaware of this issue.

He must have gotten older.

Not necessarily elderly, but at least not young. And yet, he likely wanted to capture the interest of the younger generation.

Only a few old people have the privilege of mixing freely with the young.

In the eastern highlands of my territory, there’s a community of old people.

When I visited that area, the impression was not a good one.

Wounded and with their hearts closed, they showed fierce hostility to outsiders, almost like a barbaric tribe.

They had been forgotten for a time, but they reappeared before me on an autumn day when the thermometer first dropped below 10°C.

*

Bang! Bang!

Late in the evening, gunshots rang out.

To the east.

The distance was at least 5 km.

I tried to gauge the distance and location by the lights, but despite the sound of gunfire, no lights were visible.

It appeared there was a shootout in the area of abandoned apartments and factories scattered around.

It wasn’t something serious enough to declare an emergency, so I let things go on as usual.

The gunshots were intermittent and stopped around 10 p.m.

Gunfire wasn’t something frequent recently, but with so much to do, I didn’t pay it much mind.

Currently, I was busy building the winter house, and gathering firewood and food for the winter was already overwhelming.

Hunting had become more serious since Rebecca officially joined our territory.

I sometimes went hunting, but unlike the name "Hunter," I wasn’t familiar with hunting wild animals.

Most of the time, I just shot a stray animal I came across, but I never learned the skill to actively track and kill prey, and I never found it interesting enough to try.

Today’s target was cattle.

Cheon Young-jae had reported seeing a herd of cattle, mixed with dairy cows, while heading to our territory, and so Rebecca and I set off to hunt them.

The value of cattle is far higher than that of roe deer or wild boars.

There is no waste when dealing with cattle. The meat, bones, and even the organs are all edible, and the leather is durable and flexible, making it very useful.

The meat would probably taste good too.

At least, I think it would be better than pig or roe deer meat.

It’s a mystery how cattle survived four years after the war started, but today, Rebecca and I planned to hunt as many as possible and bring them back to our territory.

“Let’s have a barbecue.”

Rebecca said, making a gesture as if cutting her tongue.

Was she talking about eating the tongue?

However, Rebecca’s grand plan was dashed before we even spotted the cattle.

We found a person.

A corpse.

One that had been shot, crawling a long distance while bleeding, only to die from exhaustion.

The firearm was found 50 meters back, along a trail of blood.

There were no signs of any other companions, nor were there any footprints.

We confirmed the body.

It was a teenage boy.

The boy had tried to hide his youth with dark stubble and tattoos, but the skin, not yet showing signs of aging, was clearly that of a teenager.

“Gang.”

Rebecca muttered as soon as she saw the boy.

I agreed.

He was part of an organized band of raiders.

But there was no nearby raider group.

He must have come from elsewhere.

We searched his body but found no information about his location.

The worn military pants were covered with burrs and other forest debris, and his torn clothes suggested he had been wandering through the mountains before he died.

Rebecca and I exchanged glances.

Without words, we came to an agreement.

We would retreat.

With an armed raider appearing, there was no reason to linger around.

We didn’t recover the firearm.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

The North Korean pistol was already close to scrap, poorly maintained and in very bad condition.

We decided it was more dangerous to leave the weapon where it was, as the raider’s comrades might notice and realize our presence.

Back at the base, new information awaited us.

“I think they had a run-in with the old folks on that mountain.”

Cheon Young-jae [N O V E L I G H T] knew the details.

Like Defender, Cheon Young-jae also used wireless equipment to eavesdrop on minor communications from distant places.

I could do the same if I wanted, but I didn’t bother to search for them myself.

If it’s close by, that’s one thing, but listening in on trivial communications from over 10 km away didn’t seem worth it unless it was an urgent situation.

Anyway, Cheon Young-jae, with his different ideology and hobbies, reconstructed the events of last night along with the gunfire that had occurred around midnight.

“There were two communications exchanged.”

One was from the old people.

It was a group of elderly individuals living in a care home that I had discovered and barely escaped from.

The other side was young people.

“One side sounded like a gang of kids.”

It was likely the same raider group Rebecca and I had discovered today.

In a world where traditional beliefs like kinship, regionalism, and seniority were no longer practical, people tended to group together with those of a similar age.

Instinctively, people tend to avoid others who are different from them.

In the past, elderly people would associate with other elderly, young people with young, and so on.

Even before the war, people separated by age, and that continued after the war.

Elderly people, unable to trust the younger generation, formed their own communities, and the youth-led gangs did the same, forming groups they could trust.

It was a common occurrence for these two groups to collide.

However, Cheon Young-jae noticed something odd in this clash.

“The strange thing was that, even though a fight broke out, the two groups continued to communicate with each other.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was like they had known each other for a while.”

Cheon Young-jae had recorded part of the communication.

Due to the long distance and the condition of the eavesdropping equipment, most of the communication was filled with static and unintelligible words, but a few usable exchanges were captured.

“You’ve got everything I asked for, right? You did everything I told you, so why are you turning things around?”

A slow, old man’s voice.

“Eat shit. Old fuckers. We did everything you asked. We’re not your slaves! We had a deal. A promise!”

A gruff, man’s voice, aged but not quite young, still carrying signs of inexperience.

From what Cheon Young-jae shared, it seemed the two groups had initially been involved in trade and had a relationship that wasn’t hostile.

This wasn’t the usual scenario of raiders attacking a settled group and stealing everything.

Whatever the reason, the two groups had started with peaceful dealings, but things had gone awry, leading to the gunfight.

Bang! Tatatata!

By night, the battle resumed.

It was a fiercer fight than the previous night.

The gunfire continued until dawn.

Every time a shot rang out, small lights flickered on the distant mountain.

This time, I decided to listen in on the communication.

Crackle...

“Kill them all. Those old bastards. Kill them all! Fuckers!”

Crackle---

“Don’t kill them. Just hang them. Hang them and let the others see!”

Honestly, eavesdropping isn’t my thing.

Out of all the countless emotional bursts, the meaningful messages are at most one or two.

I listened for a moment, took off my headphones, and closed my eyes for some rest.

The next day, Cheon Young-jae came up again.

With a smile that usually mocked someone, he walked in with an unusually sharp expression, unlike his usual self.

“Listen.”

Cheon Young-jae played the recorded communication from last night that had confused him.

Crackle---

“Hey! Hapyung-ri! You know the people living near the hill there, right? Yeah? I know them. They carry guns and drive cars. I’ve seen them! I’ve seen everything. I know they live there!”

Hapyung-ri is where Cheon Young-jae is hiding now. It’s also the hometown of Gold, and the place where Kim Elder, now a guest of the afterlife, was born and raised.

In other words, it’s within my territory.

It seems that the elderly group on the mountain knew of our existence.

The advantage of high ground.

People at higher elevations can see farther and observe much more.

Though living in a group increases the chances of being spotted, our territory is hard to see from below, but it’s too easy for those above us to observe.

Just as we knew their location, they knew ours.

And that’s not all.

They were indirectly threatening us under the guise of asking for help.

“How about helping us? The young man who showed up with a gun. He lives there, right? We know. We’re listening to all your radio transmissions. Help us out. Please. Just answer, we’re listening!”

My being here was probably just a guess the elderly had made.

If they were wrong, it wouldn’t be a big deal.

Time had dulled their senses, and with it, a bit of the shamelessness was mixed in.

“Such hopeless bastards.”

Cheon Young-jae expressed his hostility.

Ha Tae-hoon, who had been observing from the side, gave a small laugh and glanced at Cheon Young-jae.

When Cheon Young-jae looked at him, Ha Tae-hoon made a playful gesture and asked, looking to me for approval.

“Can I say it?”

“What?”

“How much you hate the old people.”

I couldn’t see Cheon Young-jae’s expression, but I was certain there had been some kind of unspoken exchange between the two.

Ha Tae-hoon kept his mouth shut, and Cheon Young-jae moved on to the next topic.

In the uncomfortable atmosphere, Cheon Young-jae spoke again, this time in a somewhat calmer tone.

“...It seems the old people know where we are. Well, with clear air and a good telescope, it’d be easy to find.”

I agreed.

We had built outer walls, installed solar panels, and now we were in the middle of constructing the winter house.

The likelihood of our location being discovered was higher than ever.

“...”

It was to be expected.

Once you form a group, it becomes easier to be noticed.

It was bound to happen eventually.

It was just that it happened at an unexpected time and by an unexpected force.

“Since this happened... Can I make a suggestion?”

At that, Cheon Young-jae unusually showed some enthusiasm.

“What if we just kill them all?”

Cheon Young-jae said it with a smile, but it was clear he meant it.

He was genuinely suggesting that we kill every single one of the old people on that mountain.

Cheon Young-jae’s gaze turned to me.

“...”

I knew.

The decision was mine to make.

I thought about it.

I didn’t have any particular respect for the elderly, but neither did I have contempt for them.

Before the war, there were instances where elderly people caused problems, but I thought those were individual issues.

I didn’t think it was right to label an entire group as enemies and negate them all.

Well, fanaticism was the exception, of course.

I dismissed the idea of wiping out the elderly group.

We were already fighting the raiders, and there was no need to get involved with them.

It wasn’t about reaping any benefits, but why get involved in someone else’s fight if it had nothing to do with me?

“Bullets are always in short supply. Even if we’re not short now, we’ll be soon.”

But the next day, the communication Cheon Young-jae brought was something I couldn’t ignore.

“Those people in Hapyung-ri. Didn’t they help us?”

The old man’s slow voice came through.

“When your neighbors are suffering, do you just ignore it? We’ve got plans too.”

The communication ended there, but the message was clear.

The slow-spoken old man was warning us.

Ding- Ding- Ding- Ding-

Not long after, an alarm went off at the lookout.

Vehicles were approaching.

Six of them.

A procession of vehicles, barely moving and emitting thick black smoke like ragged blankets, was making its way toward our territory.

On top of the roofless vehicles were thin men standing upright, their faces barely looking older than their early twenties.

“Want me to take a guess?”

Cheon Young-jae, who had been particularly hostile toward the elderly, smirked.

“It’s those old bastards. They probably lied, saying we’ve got a lot to offer.”

How the old man convinced the raiders, who had been shooting at each other like they were about to kill each other, to come our way with sweet words, I had no idea. But one thing was certain.

Clack!

“Prepare for battle.”

This was our first battle within our territory after forming a group.

There wouldn’t be much to gain by winning, but losing would mean losing everything.

“...”

I had known this kind of battle would come someday, but I never imagined it would start like this.

“Let’s kill those guys and the old people too.”

Cheon Young-jae was unusually intense today.

It felt like he was high on adrenaline.

His movements were far more violent than usual, almost like he was enjoying it.

Ha Tae-hoon had a look on his face, like he wanted to say something to me.

When our eyes met, he gestured for me to come over.

I approached him, mindful of Cheon Young-jae’s heightened energy.

“He was briefly with the Pioneer Corps.”

Ha Tae-hoon whispered, his face slightly tense.

“He was their ace.”