Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 103.5: Struggle (5)

Despite my growing influence on the board, the struggle to survive at an altitude of 1,200 meters continued.

Two days after the attack from the unknown Awakened, an unfamiliar vehicle approached my outpost.

It looked like an armored car, but with the sleekness of a sports car—an unusual combination.

It was electric.

I had never seen this type before.

A new model?

The vehicle stopped, and two people stepped out.

Both were clad in white uniforms—ones I didn’t recognize.

They were about the same age, but one of them acted like a subordinate, always standing slightly behind the other.

That meant the other was someone important.

“I’m Commissioner Park Seung-su of Gukwiwon.”

A commissioner of the National Crisis Management Committee.

That confirmed it—this guy had power.

His face reminded me of Jeong Ho-kyung, whom I had encountered in Gaeseong.

On the surface, he was polite.

But beneath that, I could sense it—

That quiet hostility.

That instinctive need to undermine me.

Another golden child, born in the right era.

While I was analyzing him, Park Seung-su spoke.

“I’ve read your report. You were attacked on a foggy night by an unknown group using throwing spears. You returned fire, and they retreated. Correct?”

“Yes.”

I handed over the evidence I had prepared.

A jagged, metallic spear.

It was crude but lethal—perfectly shaped for killing.

It was lightweight, with an aerodynamic design that reduced throwing noise.

The sharpened edges weren’t as refined as my axe, but they were more than enough to pierce human flesh.

A viscous, harmful-looking residue coated the spear tip. Poison?

Park Seung-su’s expression twisted as he examined it.

He studied the weapon in silence before turning back to me.

“Where did you find this?”

I led them to my alarm trap.

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

Below us, the mountains were still veiled in thick fog, but our altitude was above it, giving us clear visibility.

Still, I kept my guard up—the enemy had looted firearms and ammo.

If they attacked again, it wouldn’t just be spears.

“Hmm. Footprints.”

Park examined the fading tracks with a serious expression.

Unlike me, he wasn’t trained to analyze footprints.

He barely glanced at them before looking away.

“The Manhunters have always been an unknown threat in this region. We’ve deployed men, machines, even Awakened with sensory abilities... but we never found a trace.”

“People started joking that the Manhunters weren’t real—that they were just manifestations of the endless fog below.”

Park chuckled bitterly, still holding the blackened spear in his hands.

“But now... you’re telling me they’re human.”

“The numbers match my report, but I believe there are more.”

I kept my voice neutral, but I was skeptical of him.

His kind—the new-generation bureaucrats—wanted to erase old-school hunters like me from history.

Honestly, I detested them.

But here, he outranked me.

Maybe, just maybe, he’d be more useful than those faceless military officers on the radio.

So, I pushed.

“I requested a transfer, but they keep delaying it. They told me to wait another week.”

“I requested reinforcements, but none are coming.”

“I can’t survive like this. I’m being left here to die.”

Park turned to his aide, his eyes sharp.

“You heard him?”

“Yes, Commissioner.”

“Get this handled—immediately.”

Then, he turned back to me, lifting the blackened spear.

“Would you mind if I take this with me?”

Something about this felt off.

I didn’t like it.

But I had no choice.

He held all the power here.

“Go ahead.”

At least, for now, he pretended to be on my side.

The results? I’d have to wait and see.

Before leaving, Park took a nostalgic glance around.

“This place hasn’t changed.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Yes. A long time ago, before the war. It was just a quiet post back then. You’d even see deer along that slope.”

He turned to me, his gaze suddenly serious.

“This outpost is Jeju’s frontline. No /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ matter how many people go missing, we have to keep it manned.”

And with that, he left.

His aide shot me a glance, then gave a small nod before following his boss.

I watched their armored vehicle disappear down the slope.

Then, I realized something.

He never once said my name.

Meanwhile, My Online Presence Grew

While my real-life situation was a deathtrap, my presence on the Red Archive board was rising rapidly.

Some might say I was cheating my way to fame.

After all, I wasn’t putting in effort like making beatbox videos or translating foreign literature like John Nae-non.

All I did was click emojis.

But that wasn’t as easy as it looked.

For example, I scanned the lively, pre-war nostalgia-filled board and clicked on a post.

Gangdong Mermaid: Master♡ Master♡

Gangdong Mermaid wasn’t a big name, but he was semi-recognized.

Sort of like how Kyle Dos used to be back in the day.

Not a legend, but familiar enough to some.

His post?

It was just a blushing fox-girl from Red Archive, accompanied by one line of text.

"I like you♡"

It was... cringe.

I frowned.

But this was where my new philosophy had to come into play.

I swallowed my distaste and clicked.

Click.

SKELTON: (Blushing red-haired girl, startled emoji)

It had to match—

The title, the image, and the content.

This wasn’t easy.

I had to react as if I were the anime girl in the emoji.

I had to suppress every instinct that screamed,

"You degenerate. Read a book."

Because this was the way.

And the reward?

Gangdong Mermaid: Ohh, Skelton’s online?

A true affection stack.

This was how I built my following.

And at the same time, I had to identify and avoid the board’s villains.

Just like how my old board had its Four Infamous Users, this board had its own toxic figures.

Case in point:

QuantumNuke: Why won’t Skelton give me an emoji?

QuantumNuke: Why won’t Skelton give me an emoji?

QuantumNuke: Why won’t Skelton give me an emoji?

QuantumNuke: Why won’t Skelton give me an emoji?

QuantumNuke: Why won’t Skelton give me an emoji?

QuantumNuke: Why won’t Skelton give me an emoji?

A board menace, spamming nonsense for attention.

But I knew better than to engage.

Because no matter the time, place, or culture—

If you associate with the outcast, you become one too.

If you are reading this translation anywhere other than Novelight.net or SilkRoadTL, it has been stolen.

I ignored QuantumNuke and instead responded to a random user’s nonsense post right above his spam.

That was my message to him.

And so, as I continued securing my mental stability through my thriving board presence, Unicorn messaged me.

UnicornCon: Skelton...

SKELTON: (Skelton) What is it?

UnicornCon: No... You’re doing well. You’re really doing well, but...

SKELTON: ?

UnicornCon: I just don’t think this is right...

SKELTON: What isn’t?

UnicornCon: Let’s be real. We both know each other’s identities, even if we don’t say it outright. I know who you are. I know your age...

SKELTON: (Skelton, confused) And? This is news to you now?

UnicornCon: No, it’s just... Acting cute is fine. But this is a bit much. Knowing who you really are, it’s... hard to watch.

Huh?

What’s the problem?

Isn’t this exactly what Unicorn wanted?

This person guided me into this style of board interaction—now they want to criticize it?

Regardless of Unicorn’s skills, giving me advice on my board persona wasn’t a good look.

SKELTON: Then get me out of here.

Half sarcasm. Half genuine frustration.

UnicornCon: Ah, well...

SKELTON: Doesn’t matter. I’ve only got two weeks left, so forget it.

But this reminded me.

I needed to tell them about my meeting earlier.

SKELTON: By the way, a guy named Park Seung-su came here.

UnicornCon: Park Seung-su?!

SKELTON: Yeah. Wearing a fancy white uniform. Said he’s a Gukwiwon Commissioner.

UnicornCon: He’s one of the real power players here.

SKELTON: Power player?

UnicornCon: Yeah. Everyone knows Kang Han-min, but the ones really pulling the strings in Jeju are the Awakened from the 1st and 2nd cohorts. Han-min has no interest in administration. He’s always inside the Rifts—he barely pays attention to anything else.

SKELTON: I asked this guy to get me out of here.

UnicornCon: He won’t. Or at least, it’s very unlikely.

SKELTON: That so?

UnicornCon: Just a hunch.

And Unicorn’s hunch was dead on.

Park Seung-su, who had acted like he’d help, had done absolutely nothing.

“Huh? A request from Commissioner Park Seung-su? This is the first I’m hearing of it. We’re still looking for a replacement. Just hold on a little longer.”

The confirmation came through the radio—he wasn’t going to lift a finger for me.

And just as before, the fog began creeping in.

Right now, there was only one person I could turn to.

SKELTON: Unicorn.

SKELTON: The fog’s rolling in again.

UnicornCon: Fog?

SKELTON: Another attack is likely.

SKELTON: This time, it might be worse. I have a feeling they’ll bring guns. And fighting a sensory-type Awakened with firearms in a shootout isn’t exactly easy.

UnicornCon: ...

SKELTON: If I stop responding, tell the board guys something for me.

SKELTON: Tell them—

SKELTON: "The cute Skelton went to a better place."

Living here was undeniably more dangerous than back in my old sector.

But strangely enough, I didn’t feel bad.

Even with the darkness surrounding me, I felt no weight on my shoulders.

More importantly—

I no longer had nightmares.

Maybe this was the mentality of someone who had embraced their fate.

I had accepted that my life was an endless struggle—that survival itself was my existence’s purpose.

Click.

I loaded my weapon.

I had played weak to Unicorn, but I had no intention of dying here.

In fact—

I had a plan.

Tonight, I was going to kill at least one of them.

I needed a corpse to prove what I was dealing with.

Jangle—!

The newly repositioned tripwires triggered.

“This is Post #328. Unknown hostiles detected. Requesting immediate reinforcements.”

I knew nobody would come.

This was just to leave a paper trail.

If I survived, this would be evidence against those who had thrown me into this death trap.

I climbed to the rooftop.

It was a flat, exposed surface, with no natural cover aside from the antenna.

At least—that’s what my attackers would expect.

Bang!

A gunshot rang out.

Distance: 60 meters.

A skilled marksman had taken a precision shot.

At this range, a well-aimed round was hard to dodge.

And I had no divine shield to protect me.

But—

Thud.

The bullet struck something else.

Because I wasn’t standing out in the open.

I was behind a waist-high barricade of sandbags, stacked above my height.

My own personal shield.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

More shots.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Each bullet was well-placed—but completely absorbed by the sandbags.

I listened.

The exact trajectory of each shot.

The speed of impact.

The angle of entry.

Then—I let go of my rifle.

And I collapsed, playing dead.

"We got him!"

A voice rang out from the fog.

Too young to be a full-grown adult.

But I wasn’t going to spare him.

Shhhk—

Still lying motionless, I drew my axe.

Then, I pretended to stagger to my feet, dragging one leg like I was injured.

Tonight—

At least one of them dies.