Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 150.4: Interview (4)

Just like how kids in school gather into groups with those they’re closest to, the same thing happens on our forum—cliques naturally form.

There were groups like the early-days “Kyle Dos Family,” Dies_Irae and his followers, and subgroups suspected to be made up of medical professionals.

Even I used to be close with users like FoxGame and Ballantine once, considered them closer than most.

But as always, there are groups that are deliberately alien, who don’t want to blend in.

Take someone like Verkhut—classic elitist trash. And then there are those I don’t even mention, the basement-dwelling types whose humanity is visibly bottom-of-the-barrel even at a glance.

Keystone falls into that category.

It’s like his pitiful soul seeps out of every single letter in his short, sloppy posts.

That’s why I never clicked on any of his threads.

Not that he posted much to begin with.

The only ones I actually read were the occasional stories about “refugees from the neighboring district”—those were his trademark, and they sometimes made it to the trending list.

“Movies, or any kind of art really—it all comes down to the subject matter.”

It didn’t take an hour with the guy to figure out why he didn’t post often.

“Take cooking, for instance. Say you’ve got garbage meat—like dog meat, right? You gotta drown it in every spice known to man just to cover the taste. But premium meat—like wagyu, for example—man, that shit just needs a little sear. Doesn’t even need to cook through. Just touch the grill, and it melts in your mouth.”

This guy... really talks a lot.

And it’s not the kind of talk that’s easy to listen to, either.

“Hey, you know who Kashyapa is? No? Figures. What’s the use of going to a fancy school if you don’t have basic cultural literacy? Just ‘cause you know some useless formulas doesn’t make you an intellectual. A clueless, socially inept bastard is still trash—trash doesn’t fall from the sky, y’know?”

A younger guy, maybe his nephew or brother-in-law, stood nearby with a rifle in his arms, silently enduring Keystone’s rant.

“It’s only because I’m me that I’ve managed to survive this shitshow. You saw what happened to the rest, right? Think not even one of ‘em was better than me? Sure, maybe a couple. But where are they now, huh?”

Too early a judgment, maybe—but judging from the air inside the bunker and the exhausted expressions around him, it felt like Keystone had been using everyone around him as emotional trash bins for a long time.

“I’m close with Kang Han-min, y’know? There’s that Buddhist story—how the Buddha just made eye contact with Kashyapa and smiled. Mind to mind communication, that kind of thing.”

Keystone, having talked himself into a good mood, turned toward me.

He clearly had something to say, but maybe because of the subtle tension earlier, he hesitated.

I ignored him, but eventually, he spoke.

“Excuse me... do you know Kang Han-min?”

Suddenly he’s using honorifics.

That laughable attempt to manufacture distance made me scoff, but I didn’t bother reacting.

I shook my head.

“You’ve never met him in person, have you?”

I nodded.

A small, smug grin crept onto Keystone’s face.

Victory. That’s what it said.

Mgu leaned in to whisper.

“Hey, Skelton.”

“What.”

“It’s not just me getting bad vibes here... right?”

Classic instinct from a seasoned name.

I felt the same.

I didn’t trust this Keystone bastard.

Sure, he seemed to know Ganghwa Island well enough—but I doubted he’d actually do anything worthwhile even if he did meet Kang Han-min.

“Shit... Should I just give up on making content?”

“Let’s just scout the area first.”

Sure, producing content was part of my plan—but it was never the main goal.

Just a bonus.

The real reason I came to this island was to check on Kang Han-min and his crew.

And that wasn’t hard to do.

All I had to do was observe the state of their base.

If they were planning to stay long-term, they’d be preparing for winter. If they were just passing through before heading back to Seoul, they’d only have a temporary camp set up.

Photos wouldn’t cut it.

You had to see it with your own eyes.

The real problem was Keystone.

So I asked Mgu.

“That guy...”

“Yeah?”

“Did he build all this from scratch?”

“Yup.”

“Figures.”

Self-made man.

On a personal level, I respect that. They deserve admiration.

But a lot of self-made types are exhausting.

Common trait: They talk down to others. Especially to those who didn’t “make it” the way they did.

Sure, there are humble types like me—but unfortunately, we’re rare.

Keystone’s group up ahead stopped.

He stayed behind and sent forward a guy who looked like he was in his late teens.

Clothes were shabby, and he looked timid—but his features were sharp, and he had a certain glow to him.

“Uh, this is the area where Mutations have been sighted.”

His Korean was a little off.

Different from a North Korean accent, though.

I asked.

“You his brother-in-law?”

He nodded.

Mgu muttered from beside me.

“Must be tough.”

The kid just smiled awkwardly and went back to Keystone without responding.

Anyway, it was our turn now.

I asked Mgu.

“Seen a lot of Mutations?”

He shrugged.

“Dude, I lived in The Hope.”

According to Keystone, there was only one active Mutation in the area.

Clack—

One isn’t too bad.

I hadn’t dealt with a goat-type before, but it couldn’t be that different from cattle or other hoofed animals.

Together, Mgu and I began moving across the snowy field.

Moments later—

“Hey.”

Mgu pointed west.

I knew already.

Something had appeared at the edge of my field of vision earlier—moving in parallel with us, from a distance.

Just like Keystone had said, it looked like a black goat Mutation.

Even with the Mutation process, it hadn’t grown as large as other creatures.

Maybe the size of a bull?

But size isn’t everything.

There are cases where creatures that remain small develop high intelligence or enhanced abilities.

That one seemed like the type.

It was keeping a tricky distance—too far for a clear rifle shot, but close enough to shadow us.

“Why aren’t you shooting?”

Keystone muttered behind me.

“Too far.”

“Aren’t you a Hunter? Old-school Hunters were all about marksmanship, right?”

If this were my bunker, I’d have beaten him half to death with the rifle butt.

But this was unfamiliar terrain, and Keystone and his brother-in-law were both armed.

And in this world, disrespecting someone with a gun is just plain stupid.

As I hesitated, Keystone grew more confident.

His voice got louder, and his mouth ran faster.

“Still, even those freaks won’t make a move when we’re in a group, huh? Numbers do matter, I guess. Even refugee scum wouldn’t get touched when they stuck together.”

“I swear, these Mutations act more like people than beasts. That’s what makes ‘em disgusting. A beast acts like a beast—fine, it’s cute even. But a beast that tries to act human? Nothing more revolting.”

“Come to think of it, the film I won an award for—it was about just that.”

His monologue showed no signs of ending, so Mgu stepped in with forced cheer.

“What was the film about?”

He must’ve noticed I was about to snap, so he tried to redirect Keystone’s attention.

Thinking back, maybe it was Mgu who grilled the meat at that first meetup with John Nae-non...

“Poodles.”

“Poodles? The dog?”

“I was down on my luck, crashing at some rich lady’s house. She had a poodle. A big one—huge, actually. Didn’t even know poodles could get that damn big. And the bastard knew I was beneath him. Acted sweet when the lady was around, but when we were alone? That mutt growled at me. Didn’t even bark. Knew she’d come running if it did. Just growled and sneered like it fucking owned the place.”

Keystone sneered.

“I finally walked out. Took that shitty experience and turned it into a movie. Of course, ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) Korean audiences—90% descended from slaves—didn’t get it. Total flop. But then—bam! Some foreign critic picked it up!”

He locked eyes with me.

Flashed a wide grin.

“So yeah. Art’s all about the material.”

“...”

“Kang Han-min? Now that’s material. No doubt about it. Just standing next to the guy gives you a story. No more theaters these days, sure, but I still eat film for breakfast. Gotta leave behind at least one masterpiece, right?”

Now I get it.

Keystone sees Kang Han-min the same way he saw that poodle from his old flame’s house.

What kind of twisted confidence is that?

“That mountain—over there. That’s where the base was. What did they call it? An air defense site? Yeah, an old Air Force unit. They held it down even after the war. That’s where they’ve holed up. I’m sure of it.”

No more distractions.

The black goat that had been tailing us was gone. The handful of survivors we saw in the distance weren’t showing signs of hostility.

On a low hill overlooking the sea stood a small military base, wrapped in barbed wire.

“...”

There were people.

Men and women in military uniforms stood beneath a tattered Taegeukgi, gazing down at us.

No weapons in hand—must be Kang Han-min’s people.

“Knew it.”

Keystone beamed.

“I knew it! My hunches never miss!”

His face was flushed with the thrill of self-importance.

“You guys not coming?”

He turned toward us, his voice light and foolishly eager.

I glanced at Mgu.

He shook his head.

“We’ll stay here.”

Keystone scoffed and headed toward the base with his brother-in-law.

Let’s see how this self-made man’s little legend ends.

Mgu snapped a photo with his clunky phone, battery pack dangling off the back.

“So what do you think? Think Kang Han-min will meet him?”

“Doubt it.”

But I’m not Kang Han-min. No point assuming.

Whatever happens, my goal is complete.

Just as I thought.

Stacks of supply crates. Three helicopters.

Judging by the smoke rising in the distance, a decent number of people too.

At least a hundred.

One thing’s certain—Kang Han-min won’t be going anywhere for a while.

Whatever he’s planning, I don’t know—but at least I can rest easy in Seoul for now.

“Kang Han-min! Savior Kang Han-min, I’ve come to see you! I’m Director Nam Deok-young! I was going to make a biopic about you before the war!”

At the base gate, Keystone was yelling like a madman.

Behind the wire fence, fighters—probably his brother-in-law’s age—watched coldly.

He wasn’t welcome.

Maybe even Keystone could feel that things were turning ugly.

“Show it! Quick! Show it to them! Move! Jesus Christ, get out of the way!”

Keystone shoved his brother-in-law aside and pulled a huge sealed container from his backpack.

Big as a kimchi tub. Filled with something black and shiny—soy sauce crab.

“This is soy sauce crab! I caught it myself right here! Used premium Kikkoman soy sauce, you know it? Kikkoman! I brought this ‘cause I figured the savior would like it! Please, just tell him I’m here!”

Mgu chuckled.

“Ha... man, he’s pathetic. I was holding back ‘cause he’s way older than me, but seriously—what the hell is wrong with that guy?”

“...”

“What’s up, Skelton? Why’d you go quiet all of a sudden?”

Mgu followed my gaze.

“Wait... you like soy sauce crab?”

“...Yeah.”

Not my all-time favorite, but it’s been ages since I’ve had it.

I did have some crab in storage, but I used it all making ramyun in the early days.

Anyway, while I was momentarily distracted thinking about crab, things had escalated at the gate.

“Piss off!”

A teenage girl—not more than a high schooler—was shouting at Keystone.

“I said we don’t want it!”

Mgu snorted.

Called it.

“Hey, Skelton.”

“What?”

“You... don’t happen to have admin privileges on our forum, do you?”

“Admin?”

“Yeah. Like... you’re one of the mods?”

“?”

What the hell?

How would he know that?

Only a handful of royal users like me, VivaBot, and FoxGame know about the secret admins.

I was about to ask how he—

“Fuck off! You piece of shit!”

A thunderous shout, this time with actual impact.

Boom!

I turned around to see a girl, red in the face, glaring at Keystone—who’d fallen on his ass, stunned, looking up at someone young enough to be his daughter.

The crab container lay shattered on the ground, black sauce staining the white snow like ink.

“Take your trash food and shove it!”

Keystone’s head slumped.

“...”

Let’s hope this humbles him.

“We should head back.”

“Sounds good.”

We know the way.

No need to rely on Keystone anymore.

Better to catch the boat before nightfall.

Still, he’s a fellow forum member, and he did help me gather the info I wanted. I’ll show a little appreciation.

Bang!

A single shot.

A beast cried in the distance, something dark fleeing across the snow, bleeding.

A Mutation that had been tracking us.

It had crept up to 150 meters using the terrain. I pretended not to notice until it got close—then fired, aiming for the forehead.

Direct hit, but it didn’t die.

Small body, reinforced skeleton.

That one shot pulled everyone’s eyes toward us.

Even the Awakened guarding the base started to gather, peering down at us.

“Hey,”

Mgu grinned.

“Looks like your shot just shocked the Awakened too.”

As expected—

Chzzzt—

The K-walkie crackled, a public broadcast over shared frequencies.

“Whoever just fired at the Mutation—were you a Hunter?”

“...”

I ignored it.

They didn’t try again.

But someone else approached.

Keystone.

“Skelton!”

He looked at me with an entirely different face now.

“That shot just now—what the hell?! Seriously, how’d you do it?! That was ghost-level marksmanship! Even the Awakened freaks lit up like Christmas trees!”

For a second, I thought—

This is the kind of guy who should be self-made.

“Hey, if you’re not in a rush, how about dinner? I’ve got plenty of food—grow my own crops, catch my own seafood...”

“You got soy sauce crab?”

“Soy sauce crab? Uh... no, that’s all gone...”

“Then get lost.”

The source of this c𝐨ntent is fre𝒆w(e)bn(o)vel