Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 51.2: Verification (2)

When Defender and his sister helped with the construction work some time ago, we didn’t talk much, but during downtime, we occasionally shared stories about our past or personal preferences.

I already knew she was familiar with internet culture, but talking to her made me realize just how much depth she had—far beyond anything I could hope to match.

“I’ve been using forums since elementary school.”

“Quite the precocious yellow sprout, weren’t you?”

It was during what could be called Defender’s “rest period.”

Having met the formidable Justice Min, Defender had stopped posting frequently, let alone performing his usual “verifications.”

“I like it better this way—less verification,” I said honestly.

Less verification meant fewer encounters with others, which was always a good thing.

“Verification is better left undone,” Da-jeong sighed with a bitter smile.

Hanging her head and gazing off into the distance, she looked, for a fleeting moment, like a seasoned veteran.

“Users who do verifications on the board never last long—they all disappear.”

“Really? It’s not because their verifications were subpar?”

“No. Back on another forum, there was even this guy who was like a rich kid straight out of a movie.”

“So why did he disappear?”

“Who knows? Maybe it was just a burnout or a sudden realization.”

“Hmm.”

“Or maybe it’s because they stood out. You know masquerade balls, right?”

“Of course.”

“If everyone’s wearing masks and joking around, wouldn’t you feel awkward being the only one with your face exposed?”

Da-jeong smirked at me.

I didn’t fully understand her words then, but I thought I got a glimpse of why people who did verifications disappeared.

But there was an exception sitting right in front of me.

“Still, you two have done plenty of verifications and lasted quite a while, haven’t you?”

Da-jeong let out a chuckle.

“Verification isn’t all the same. There are heavy verifications and light ones. What we’ve done are the light ones.”

At the time, I didn’t grasp the full meaning of her words.

But now, I think I understand.

I understand what “heavy verification” really is.

In the photo posted by Defender, a man hung upside down, blood dripping from his body and staining the chair beneath him red.

“...”

Judging by the photo, the man was still alive.

And sure enough, Defender had added a sentence at the end of the photo:

Defender: He’s still alive.

At that moment, I felt a chilling sensation that froze my blood.

It was the same familiar unease I’d felt when I met the Defender siblings in person.

What Defender was doing now was nothing more than a grim re-enactment of something I’d seen countless times in China.

In China, when the regular army couldn’t handle insurgents, guerrilla warfare specialists were sent in.

They weren’t soldiers—they were butchers.

When capturing insurgents, they often took one or two hostage and used them to lure out the rest for a massacre.

The tactic was simple but effective: leave the hostage to bleed out slowly.

If no one came to save them, the hostage would die; if someone came, they’d all die.

Now, that same strategy, which I’d witnessed in China, was being used here in Korea by my internet friend.

Defender: Video.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

The video showed the upside-down man sobbing and begging for his life, his voice trembling like a child’s.

The grainy footage, far from detracting from the impact, only amplified the ominous atmosphere created by the dimly lit room.

“...”

I had little to say about the situation.

This was Defender’s fight—a battle he had chosen and shaped.

But why?

Why did his methods provoke such a visceral reaction in me?

Was it because this was what Da-jeong had referred to as a “heavy verification”?

Or was there another reason entirely?

The suffocating frustration I felt was succinctly articulated by another user on the board:

Dies_Irae69: I don’t know the full story, but using our board as your murder weapon crosses a line.

Dies_Irae69.

The leader of the survivalist faction had neatly encapsulated the discomfort I couldn’t put into words.

Exactly.

Defender was exploiting our board.

Our sanctuary, our space for respite, where we found moments of joy in a dying world—he had dragged his war into it.

Defender likely knew everything about Justice Min.

He had probably uncovered their base, their habits, and even their weaknesses.

He’d gathered all the information and prepared a trap to destroy them.

And the bait for that trap? Our board.

I recalled a message from Justice Min that Defender had once shared:

JUSTICE_MIN: So you’re that crazy guy from Viva Apocalypse! The one who kills people and does verifications? Lol. Fucking lol.

JUSTICE_MIN: Well, I’ve got you now. The hero of justice knows who you are. From now on, I’m hunting you down. I’ll hunt you and “verify” you. Just wait—it won’t take long...!!!

The messages made it clear—Justice Min was a show-off.

But what had made him so desperate to hunt Defender?

Da-jeong had her own theory about Justice Min’s behavior.

“He’s someone who craves a sense of belonging.”

“A sense of belonging?”

“Yeah. He’s a big shot on Greater FailNet, right? But then he sees this puny, cowardly refuge of a board and, as someone from FailNet’s noble lineage, he can’t stand it.”

What I knew about Justice Min was that he was a former raider who had formed a group.

Among those he’d killed were likely at least one of our board members—he’d stolen satellite equipment, after all.

But that still didn’t justify Defender’s methods.

Defender: Second video.

Ignoring Dies_Irae69’s warning, Defender posted another video.

In it, the man writhed like a speared fish, begging for his life.

“Please, let me go. I’m sorry! Hyung! Hyung, save me! Please, I’m begging you...”

The video ended with the man’s face being struck by a blunt object.

Dies_Irae69 had nailed it.

Defender was forcing Justice Min into a corner, leaving him no choice but to act.

If Justice Min didn’t respond, Defender would undoubtedly escalate his tactics with even more gruesome footage.

“...”

Originally, I’d intended to only activate my communicator if the Defender siblings were in immediate danger.

Now, I had no choice.

This had to stop.

Whatever Defender wanted to do to Justice Min—dismember him or grind him into pulp—that was fine, but it needed to stay offline.

Our board had an unspoken rule:

Never bring “realities we don’t want to face” onto the board.

The atmosphere on the board was frosty.

No one was enjoying this, and some were openly hostile.

Even so, Defender wouldn’t flinch.

Defender: Third video.

I didn’t even bother playing it.

I already knew what it would be—torture, pleas for mercy, and violence.

Watching it would only deepen my resentment toward Defender.

Sure enough, a user finally decided to take a stand.

Dies_Irae69: This is a warning, Defender. Stop posting your fucking videos. I’m telling you—this is your final warning.

Dies_Irae69 wasn’t a “named” user in the traditional sense.

But he’d become someone no one could ignore or look down on.

And now, he was warning Defender.

I knew Dies_Irae69 didn’t make empty threats.

I also knew he had the heart of a killer.

Defender: Mind your own business.

For the first time, Defender, who rarely responded to others, reacted to Dies_Irae69.

He must have realized it too—Dies_Irae69 wasn’t someone to be taken lightly.

Dies_Irae69: So you’re making yourself our enemy?

Defender didn’t reply.

Dies_Irae69 continued:

Dies_Irae69: Honestly, I never liked you. I tolerated you because of the circumstances, but this is too much. Justice Min—he may be a stranger to me, but isn’t he one of our board members? You’re breaking your own oath.

Reading that, I felt a surge of tension.

I knew the essence of Dies_Irae69.

He wasn’t someone to trifle with.

Dies_Irae69: This is your last warning. Drag your fight here one more time, and we’ll act.

Dies_Irae69 wasn’t confronting Defender for no reason.

He was using this as a stepping stone to achieve a greater goal.

As that realization hit, my decision was simple.

“Defender.”

I activated my communicator.

“Answer me.”

Gunshots echoed through the line.

“Da-jeong, are you on the keyboard?”

“?!”

Her startled gasp came through the communicator.

“Don’t respond to Dies_Irae69.”

It was the first time I’d spoken so firmly to her since we’d met.

“Skelton...”

Her voice was timid, almost subdued.

“You can’t see it? You don’t know what kind of person he is?”

“What kind of person is he?”

“He’ll kill you.”

“That guy? Kill us?”

“Yes. He’ll kill you.”

“Skelton...”

“So don’t. Don’t fight him. Don’t play into his hands.”

A single gunshot rang through the communicator.

Then Defender’s voice came through, strained but steady.

“It’s over. They’re all dead.”

“Well done.”

“But Skelton... What did you just say? I don’t think I can let that slide, even if you’re our friend.”

“You heard me.”

“Skelton...”

Defender’s voice had an edge to it.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Don’t do it.”

This was a warning.

“I said don’t.”

“...”

The silence on the other end was thick with irritation.

I waited, quietly, for my internet friend’s response.

After a moment, I heard a resigned sigh.

“...Fine.”

“Good call.”

It really was the right decision.

Defender might think he had removed a major obstacle by killing Justice Min.

But fate’s blade never comes alone.

Sometimes it comes in pairs, or in an inescapable swarm.

And in my view, Dies_Irae69 was a far sharper blade than Justice Min ever was.

“...Are you going to verify this?”

I softened my tone, hoping they’d understand.

After a pause, Da-jeong sighed on the other end.

“This verification...”

Her faint, bittersweet laughter echoed through the line.

“...It was a heavy one, wasn’t it?”

She was a master of the internet.

She knew the fate of herself and her brother—of “Defender.”

*

ㅇㅇ: What's going on? Why hasn't there been any news from Defender?

익명1131: Did Defender chicken out after Dies Irae called him out? Hahaha, he's awfully quiet.

unicorn18: Was Defender really just a water rocket all along?

익명848: Defender's not dead, is he?

익명458: Defender, did you really back down to Dies Irae?

RokaGG: Defender's smarter than I thought. Knows when to recognize strength.

mmmmmmmmm: What happened? Is this about that blocked user bait? (Seriously, I don’t know.)

The downfall of someone in a high position is always a hot topic.

The higher they rise, the greater the fascination with their fall.

Defender, once synonymous with terror and regarded as the most dangerous and powerful user on our board, was now being torn apart by ridicule and mockery.

In hindsight, perhaps it was inevitable.

Defender had risen to fame through the shock value of his verifications, but in a world where such shocks had become routine, his allure could no longer hold.

“Live by verification, die by verification,” Defender’s sister said.

“Looking back, maybe Dies Irae was right.”

The Defender siblings were currently at my shelter.

I had invited them as a gesture of gratitude for their extraordinary patience.

To honor their visit, I served the prized Korean beef I had carefully preserved deep in the freezer.

“...It’s good,” Defender said, chewing the meat with a blank expression as he stared off into the distance.

He looked drained.

And why wouldn’t he?

After the fight of a lifetime, all he’d received in return was scorn from the board.

According to his sister, Defender wasn’t planning on being active for the foreseeable future.

The board’s most iconic "named" user, Defender, was disappearing into history.

“Is it really necessary to leave the board?”

Defender’s sister sighed and joined me, looking up at the countless stars glittering above us—a bittersweet gift from the apocalypse.

She turned on her tablet notepad and showed me a message she’d written:

[ It’s the right move to leave. The antis have grown in number, we’ve made mistakes that gave them ammunition, and Dies Irae sniped us perfectly. At this point, we’re just fodder for ridicule. ]

As someone well-versed in the ways of the internet, she was probably right.

Still, there was one way out: kill Dies Irae and verify it.

But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

“Why leave the board?” she asked bluntly.

“Didn’t you say you weren’t going to use Defender’s account anymore?”

“We’ve got an alt account.”

seamonkeyPAPA: (Defender) Yo.

“What’s this?”

“We’ll just tweak the nickname and use it. With all the new users joining, it’s not a big deal.”

As expected from an internet master—her approach was truly unconventional.

While she remained as spirited as ever, her brother still seemed deflated.

Understandably so—his pride had taken a severe blow.

He suddenly turned to me and asked, “...Is he really that dangerous? Dies Irae?”

He still sounded resentful.

“He’s dangerous, yeah. Ambitious, smart, ruthless. But you know...”

I looked up at the countless stars sparkling above us.

Stars are often compared to the souls of the dead.

In this apocalyptic world, the sheer number of stars shining above might symbolize the staggering number of lives lost.

“I don’t think he’ll live very long.”

“Why not?” both siblings asked in unison.

“He doesn’t hide his home.”

We’ll all become stars someday.

But at least, I think, we’ll sparkle later than them.