Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 128.1: The Tower (1)

Message from Deadman_working: A mobile broadcasting vehicle. French-made. Something our European friends used often.

Message from Deadman_working: Yeah. This should be enough to pull in the voices of the dead.

Message from Deadman_working: But that equipment can't run its broadcasting gear on internal power alone. It'll need an external generator—lots of electricity. It was designed for wartime scenarios where broadcasting stations were destroyed.

Message from Deadman_working: It has to operate for three days straight with a power supply. Not an easy task. There's also another minor issue, but I'll explain that later.

The creator of Necropolis, Deadman_working, acknowledged the potential of the equipment.

We had finally found a way to draw out the voices of the dead.

The problem, of course, was the internal killing mechanisms.

Even Mgu didn’t know the exact details.

He had only seen Ji Chang-soo’s group enter through the gap they'd welded open, then scramble out in a panic, covered in blood.

A government-level organization had sharpened its blade and laid a death trap that no one could touch.

Going in with half-baked preparation would be a death sentence.

Fortunately, I had someone to consult about this.

Message from unicorn18: Huh? What now? I told you I’m on vacation.

For some reason, Unicorn overreacted at the mere mention of a question.

A guilty conscience?

Either way, that was a good sign.

Unicorn18, my old friend and internet acquaintance, seemed to know a thing or two about the government's hidden assets.

Message from unicorn18: No, I don’t know much. Just some vague rumors. Supposedly, there’s a place somewhere in Seoul where emergency supplies were hidden.

Message from unicorn18: One thing’s for sure—no one has been able to touch that stash. Mgu's post made that clear. The place is littered with sentry guns. And if I were to add one more thing... even the IFF function has been turned off.

SKELTON: What do you mean?

Message from unicorn18: I mean, even the government can’t access it. Not even hacking will work.

Message from unicorn18: To put it simply, the government locked a dragon inside the treasure vault.

Message from unicorn18: Only someone who can kill that dragon can claim the treasure.

A nasty joke.

But not an entirely illogical one.

If you go through all the trouble of setting up an elaborate defense system, only for it to get bypassed with a few clicks of a mouse and keyboard, it would be a real shame for the designer.

So they went with a brute-force solution: only someone strong enough to kill the dragon inside the vault could take what was inside.

"An absolute evaluation of sorts."

I completely agreed with Ha Tae-hoon’s assessment.

The problem was that we were the ones being subjected to this evaluation.

Of course, this mission was purely for my personal satisfaction.

I had no intention of dragging everyone into it.

That’s why I decided that only Ballantine and I would go on this mission.

If I could, I’d go alone. But handling the communication equipment and data links was a specialized task that only Ballantine could do.

"Hey, Skelton."

Hong Da-jeong usually didn’t attend meetings, but today, for some reason, she had shown up in the central clearing of the bunker.

She stared at me and asked.

"That Necropolis thing—do we really need to bring it into our country?"

"It’s not something I have to risk my life for."

"Then why?"

"Good question."

I could have thrown out lofty ideals like the universal welfare of humanity, a network for everyone, or salvation from the coming cold.

But noble values like that didn’t have much persuasive power.

I thought about it for a moment.

Not that I needed to think long.

I already knew the answer.

I shrugged and looked at Hong Da-jeong.

"A community."

"Huh?"

"The more people, the better, don’t you think?"

In other words, I wanted to increase user traffic.

Just like my role model, John Nae-non.

"Honestly, when the PaleNet folks joined, didn’t the forums feel more alive?"

Hong Da-jeong smirked.

Got her.

My persuasion worked.

Sure, there were bigger reasons behind my decision, but there was no need to say them out loud.

"Then I’ll join too."

Da-jeong raised her hand with a faint smile.

"I’m not great with guns, but I can provide drone support. From what I can tell, you’ll need a lot of drones, and that’s where I come in."

If Da-jeong was willing to step up, that was a good thing.

Like she said, rather than throwing people into the dragon’s den, it was safer to explore with disposable drones first.

"If my sister’s going, I’m going too."

As expected, Defender raised his hand.

Against humans, he was a reliable ally. But I glanced at Ballantine.

As expected, his mouth twitched into a strained smile.

Right, I forgot.

Ballantine didn’t like the Defender siblings.

Then again, it’s not like Ballantine liked anyone.

"Skelton, can I go too?"

Another volunteer Ballantine didn’t like.

Sue.

I appreciated her enthusiasm, but she wasn’t suited for this mission.

Sue was more than capable in defensive operations, but this was already too much responsibility for someone who hadn’t fully matured yet.

"Sorry, Sue. Stay here with your mom and guard the base."

This should be enough.

More than enough.

To satisfy my selfish desires.

Just as I was about to finalize the team, another hand went up.

"You can’t leave me out."

It was Cheon Young-jae.

I had secretly hoped he would volunteer.

But if /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ he came along, there would be a gap in our defenses.

"Cheon Young-jae, you don’t have to come."

His sensory abilities were just as valuable for defense as they were for offense.

Since he always stayed outside the main base, he was our ace in the hole if an attack came.

"Come on, I can step away for a bit. We haven’t had a real attack since I got here."

"That attack could come tomorrow or the next day. You know that."

As we were going back and forth, a relaxed yet firm voice cut in.

"Don’t worry and just go."

It was Ha Tae-hoon.

"You’ve got two hunters here. Plus, we’re protected by sentry guns. Even if we’re attacked, we won’t fall so easily. And besides—"

He glanced toward Rebecca, who was sitting off to the side.

"We have new allies now, don’t we?"

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Rebecca looked our way and gave a thumbs-up. Sue mimicked her mother.

"Stay safe, Skelton."

I nodded to them.

Coming back in one piece.

That would be my true way of repaying them.

Even with the team set, we didn’t leave right away.

Ballantine had a suggestion.

"Considering the timing and circumstances, wouldn’t it be better to cover the truck with a tarp at least?"

This mission required a lot of electronics.

Drones, generators, satellite equipment for communicating with Deadman_working.

It was early autumn.

Frequent rain showers—including sudden downpours—were expected.

The cold wave was severe, but aside from winter, the seasons had continued following their pre-apocalypse pattern of warming into a subtropical climate.

Meaning, frequent showers.

"Then let’s do this."

Since we were going, we might as well go prepared.

It would be best to fortify the truck completely.

Like the scavengers and road raiders on the highway did.

Armor plating wouldn’t stop every attack, but it would at least block stray bullets, which were the most common threat.

The problem was the truck’s power output.

A stock 1-ton electric truck couldn’t handle all the extra weight.

And electric vehicles were a nightmare when they broke down. No quick fixes.

For this mission, my truck wouldn’t cut it.

"I know where to get one."

Defender provided the solution.

We headed to a ruined barn not far from the bunker.

Inside was a 3.5-ton domestic truck, a model that had once been common on highways before the war.

"Just needs a few tweaks. Someone messed with the spark plugs so the lucky ones couldn’t take it."

If Defender, a former mechanic, said so, then it was true. freewebnøvel.com

What bothered me was the old bloodstains near the driver’s seat.

"Oh, that?"

Defender noticed my gaze and explained.

"It was abandoned on the road. A raider and the driver fought to the death. See the bullet hole?"

"Judge-kill?"

"Yeah."

The worn-out crossbow bolts and crude shotgun marks were still imprinted on the faded driver’s seat.

The fight must have taken place before firearms became widespread.

"Any other vehicles besides this one?"

"I stashed a few more, but I have no idea how many are left. Even though scavenger activity has decreased, the ones that remain are the real deal. Just hiding something sloppily won’t cut it anymore."

"Is that so?"

Clang!

Defender lightly tapped the cylinder block with a wrench and suddenly let out a chuckle.

"..."

Whenever he suddenly laughed, I got nervous.

"What’s so funny?"

"Oh, I just remembered a car I hid a long time ago."

"What kind of car?"

"A sports car."

"A sports car?"

"Yeah. Everyone’s dream car."

Defender spun the wrench in his hand like a dagger.

"I wanted to drive it just once, but the powertrain had issues. Trucks like this are easy to get parts for, but something like that? Getting the right parts is next to impossible."

Defender’s voice sounded more excited than usual.

So that’s how it was.

He liked cars.

Well, I’d never met a mechanic who didn’t.

Loving cars must be what made the grueling job of repair work enjoyable for him.

I had some mechanical knowledge myself, but it was by no means an easy task.

"Someday, if I get the chance..."

As Defender fueled up the truck, his voice still carried traces of that lingering excitement.

"I want to take that car and race down an empty highway."

His hand trembled slightly as he gripped the fuel nozzle.

"200 km, 300 km—faster than the wind."

For just a moment, a bright gleam flickered in Defender’s eyes before disappearing.

I couldn’t read his mind, but I had a feeling I knew what he was thinking.

Something he wanted to do at least once before he died.

A bucket list item.

Whether someone like him, who had taken so many lives, deserved to have dreams like that, I didn’t know.

But as his friend, I was willing to help him make it happen.

"I’ll lend you some fuel."

Defender stared at me expectantly.

I grinned and added,

"As long as it doesn’t spoil by then."

*

Bzzzt—

Bzzzt—

The truck modifications began immediately.

We reinforced the cargo bed with scavenged car doors, metal sheets, and even slate roofing to create a secure protected space.

Inside, we installed various chargers and backup batteries.

A small hatch and a makeshift defensive position were added to the roof, allowing someone to respond flexibly in case of an ambush.

I wanted to mount a machine gun on top, but securing it properly was more difficult than expected, so I gave up on the idea.

Once the modifications were complete, we loaded the supplies and prepared to depart.

Of course, the most important piece of equipment went in last.

The Obelisk.

The satellite device that connected to Viva! Apocalypse! was placed securely in the truck’s cargo hold.

The account I would be using was RoxanneGirl, representing my more feminine side, but I didn’t want anyone knowing about my multiple identities, so I set the nickname to anonymous.

"Alright then."

Before getting in the truck, I waved to those staying behind.

It wasn’t like we were going off to die, so it was a casual farewell.

But one person made a very specific request.

"Skelton! You better connect Necropolis!"

Rebecca.

It was a thoughtless request—enough that even Sue shot her a look—but I understood her sentiment.

I had seen people wither away and die when they lost connection.

Their fates didn’t bring me sorrow, but living in a place devoid of human voices must be a miserable experience.

Even Deadman_working, who once declared he wanted to be humanity’s last survivor, had ended up building a community.

People want to connect with others.

That simple—yet not so simple—desire was why we were heading into danger.

Of course, I had to clarify that this wasn’t some grand noble mission.

The only one who truly understood my real motive was my closest friend, Ballantine.

"As for linking Necropolis and Viva! Apocalypse!—yes, theoretically, it should be possible. Since we’ve infiltrated before, and Necropolis is ultimately just a data flow, if we connect it properly, the two networks should merge. Naturally, that would also link us to the Red Archive board you hold such a grudge against."

"Oh? Is that so?"

My thirst for revenge hadn’t cooled yet.

"Skelton!"

Da-jeong’s voice came through the communicator.

I could hear rapid typing sounds on her end.

"I just checked the forums."

"Yeah?"

"That DongtanMom account posted again."

"Oh?"

Baek Seung-hyun.

He was still alive.

Then again, that stubborn bastard wouldn’t die so easily.

Feeling a slight flicker of amusement, I gave the command.

"Move out."

The truck rumbled forward.

Cheon Young-jae, riding the motorcycle he had practically claimed as his own, sped ahead of us.

"Comms are operational. No issues."

"Should I launch the drones?"

"Not yet. No need."

It had been four years since the war began.

This was the biggest mission I had undertaken since.

Feeling the cold, solid weight of the gun tucked between my legs and the axe secured at my waist, I took a deep breath.

"..."

My condition wasn’t bad.