Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 62.2: Alumni Gathering (2)

"Food waste, huh."

It had been a long time since I last heard that term.

Back before the war, I produced my fair share of food waste. The garbage disposal attached to the kitchen sink was a relic of a more abundant era.

These days, we’re in a time when even unpalatable food is forced down rather than wasted.

I had a hunch where Cheon Young-jae was going with this.

"You buy food intending to eat it, but when it turns out it’s not good, it gets thrown out. The thing is, food waste is hard to deal with, right? You need special bags for it. In apartment complexes, you’ve got machines that make it easier, but here? Wouldn’t it be tough for someone like you to handle food waste properly?”

"I used a disposer."

"A disposer? Isn’t that illegal?"

"What nonsense."

"Anyway, I got this eerie feeling, like I was going to be... disposed of. There aren’t many good spots left in the world, you know? And those always get snapped up by vultures. What could I do? If I were one of your peers or a year below, maybe I’d have stood a chance. But between me and you, there are dozens of low-level Awakened. You get the picture."

"You seem to know what happened to the low-level ones."

At my question, his smirk turned bitter, his words trailing off.

"I don’t know. I wasn’t there. But I heard about a girl I used to know. She died—not on the battlefield, but here in Korea."

"That’s unfortunate, but it could be a coincidence."

"I liked a lot of girls. Left a mark on all the halfway decent-looking juniors. They’re all dead. Or missing."

"How many?"

"Thirty-two. Maybe thirty-three."

"..."

"Turns out, I was right."

This guy definitely had foresight. His convictions were unshakable.

But with such sharp instincts, why didn’t he become a doomsday prepper? Maybe money was the biggest factor. Still, I couldn’t help but think he had the resourcefulness to set up a bunker on a budget.

"So, what did you do next? Build a bunker or something?"

"Nope, I miscalculated. I figured there’d still be demand for old-school hunters. With so few people capable of generating Wave Energy, I thought I could scrape by in a support role. That was my prediction. But... there ended up being way more than I expected."

Cheon Young-jae suddenly sprawled out on the floor of my bunker in a dramatic "大" pose.

"It was a total failure."

Still lying there, he turned his head toward me.

"I did think about building a bunker. But that felt way too defeatist, like giving up. You know those people? The ones who pray for the country to collapse? Those... ‘Shorties’ or whatever?"

"Get out of my house."

I began looking around for a broom to chase him out when his expression suddenly turned serious.

"You heard about Baek-ga, right? He’s dead."

"He didn’t die."

"He’s as good as dead. Do you think anyone could survive that?"

"There are people living in tilted apartments."

"Oh, the guy who lives in The Hope? That nutjob?"

Cheon Young-jae sat up, chuckling.

"Yeah, what about him?"

"The Hope - Cliffhanger."

"That name sounds way too fancy for what it is..."

"Nobody doesn’t know him. Even the Legion faction leaves him alone. I heard they’re even taking bets on when that apartment will finally collapse."

Cheon Young-jae glanced at his watch before standing up.

"Anyway, whether Baek-ga’s alive or dead, this whole situation made me realize something."

"And what exactly did it make you realize?"

"That even though he was a wreck toward the end, he wasn’t such a bad guy when he was active. Fought hard, did his part. But seeing someone like that go out in such a pathetic way... it pissed me off."

He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it.

It was a group photo, taken in front of Woo Min-hee’s research lab.

There were faces I recognized: people I’d hunted mutations with, folks I’d passed by on Hunter Street, and some I vaguely remembered from China’s battlefields—fleeting figures from a dream-like past.

"What’s this?"

I didn’t need to ask to know.

In the front row, people knelt, holding a crudely made banner.

<Exclusive Military Training Institute "Guard" Alumni Association>

"An alumni gathering?"

The text looked oddly fake, like a poor Photoshop job. The print quality was so low it was hard to tell.

"Yeah."

Cheon Young-jae stared at the photo with a bittersweet smile.

"If Baek-ga were here, the symmetry would’ve been perfect."

"Don’t tell me... you actually liked Baek-ga?"

"I liked his wife. But she gave me the cold shoulder. Seriously, what did she even see in that guy?"

"You’re a real piece of work."

"Just kidding. Anyway, don’t you think we’ve been treated unfairly for all we’ve sacrificed?"

I paused, considering his words and the look in his eyes.

He wasn’t wrong.

"Well, what can you do? The government thinks we’re useless."

"If they won’t support us, then we should support each other. Legion faction, National Assembly faction, doesn’t matter—we’re all from the same school. We all joined with the same pure intention: to fight monsters."

He handed me another piece of paper.

<Guard Alumni Association Membership Application>

"What’s this?"

Cheon Young-jae winked, pressing the form into my hands.

"Senior Park, you’re the most legendary among us. Kind of a big deal, you know? Even if you’ve turned into a doomsday hermit praying for the country’s downfall."

"..."

"Anyway, I’m asking you to lend us a hand. Every alumni group needs at least one famous name to give it some credibility, right?"

"...Hmm."

"There’s not much to it. Just stay in touch, maybe join in for group photos or dinners when you can. We even got someone from Busan to join. Said they’d come to the next event."

"All the way from Busan?"

"Yep. So, how about it? We all once shared the same dream, didn’t we?"

I wasn’t thrilled about it.

Clinging to the past doesn’t appeal to me, especially when destruction looms just beyond the horizon.

But something about Cheon Young-jae’s determined eyes and his mention of that shared dream tugged at me.

I took the form and signed it.

As expected of hunters, the signature section had a spot for both your name and call sign.

Park Gyu – Professor

"By the way, who’s the alumni president?"

"Me."

Cheon Young-jae grinned as he folded the form and tucked it into his pocket.

"And how many members are there?"

"Two now."

"What?"

"You and me. That makes two."

"Then what was that photo earlier?"

"Oh, that? Photoshop. It’s actually from a Hunter Street soccer gathering."

"...Photoshopped, huh."

I felt duped, but it didn’t annoy me as much as I thought it would.

Somehow, I understood what he was trying to accomplish with this alumni group.

And I wasn’t alone in thinking that.

Everyone who once shared the same dream and the same time with us deserved better than to be discarded so meaninglessly.

Even my peers had voiced similar thoughts before.

Cheon Young-jae, cheeky as he was, had taken action on what others only imagined.

"Now that we’ve got your name, don’t you think this alumni group might actually grow?"

"Why not just distribute the forms on Hunter Street?"

"Of course I will. I’m also planning to reach out to those who’ve joined the Legion faction or moved to the provinces."

"The Legion faction?"

He nodded.

"How will you contact them? Do you have a system in place?"

"We’ve got a dedicated frequency. Kind of like a private group chat."

"18th cohort really sticks together, huh?"

"We’re the cursed batch. If we don’t stick together, who else will look out for us?"

"Do you know someone named Jung-ho?"

Defender’s name came to mind.

"Jung-ho? Hong Jung-ho? Or Yoo Jung-ho?"

"I don’t know their family name. Just a good-looking guy."

"Both are good-looking."

"A psychopath who enjoys killing. Has a younger sister."

"Not sure. I wasn’t close with either. And one of them is dead."

Cheon Young-jae checked his watch again.

"Busy?"

"Yeah, I’ve got other stops to make."

"Really?"

"There’s another alumnus living nearby."

"Jung-ho?"

"How’d you know?"

"...Just a hunch."

“Hong Jung-ho.”

Cheon Young-jae’s grin widened.

I sighed, realizing how sharp he was, and warned him.

“Don’t mention me to him.”

Cheon slung his gear over his shoulder, preparing to leave.

I watched silently as he readied himself.

At first, I’d been reluctant to let him into my bunker, but as we talked, it felt... refreshing, almost amusing.

Would I feel the same if Rebecca and her daughter showed up in my territory one day?

Well, one thing’s for sure—I’m definitely a prickly person. The fact that I instinctively noted my handgun’s location when he reached for his weapon confirmed it.

As he adjusted his rifle, Cheon broke the silence.

“You know Yang Sang-gil is here, right?”

“I do.”

“Do you know his nickname?”

“Wasn’t it Yang Lettuce before the world went to hell?”

“That was before everything collapsed.”

Click.

Cheon slid his magazine into place and tested the safety before turning back to me.

“Now, they call him The Butcher.”

At that, an image flashed in my mind—an emaciated man in a suit, thick glasses perched on his bony frame.

“That guy? He couldn’t even kill a pig.”

“Apparently, he’s the one who came up with the population reduction strategy for Seoul. Word is, he was behind the convoy Baek-ga was on too.”

“Where’d you hear that?”

“A junior from Jeju.”

“Awakened?”

“Yeah.”

Cheon tapped his temple with his finger.

Th𝓮 most uptodate nov𝑒ls are publish𝒆d on ƒreewebηoveℓ.com.

“Similar abilities to mine. Anyway, if The Butcher Yang Sang-gil is in Incheon, it’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“To finish off what’s left of the survivors?”

“Maybe he’s including himself in that. Heard he brought his family along.”

At the exit, Cheon paused.

“I might end up relying on this area for support.”

“...”

“Not your bunker, don’t worry. Just planning to set up nearby. Better to have an alumnus watching your back than some random idiot, right?”

“Thinking of starting a village?”

“A village? Not a bad idea.”

Cheon’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he grinned, then left my territory with the same carefree steps he came with.

Before he disappeared entirely, I called out to him.

“Do you know who’s in charge now?”

“In charge?”

“Jeju.”

Cheon stopped, his gaze flickering thoughtfully before he locked eyes with me.

“Your peer, Senior Park.”

“Kang Han-min?”

“That guy? People say he’s surprisingly scatterbrained.”

“He always was.”

“Anyway, I just heard it in passing, so it could be a rumor. And since he’s your peer, I’ll refrain from saying anything bad about him. You probably know best, right? You all went through it together.”

With a wave, Cheon turned and walked off toward the west.

I stood on the hill, watching him disappear into the distance, deep in thought.

So, one of my peers is now a big shot.

Who could it be? Kang Han-min? Na Hye-in?

Na Hye-in seems more fitting—she has a natural leadership aura that Kang Han-min lacks.

But those two aren’t the only ones from Jeju.

There’s also Gong Gyeong-min, someone I once considered a close friend.

Gong Gyeong-min is no longer part of my life.

He’s still alive, but we’re no longer connected.

Our relationship ended, and it was entirely my fault.

He was the one who opposed me leaving the Hunters the most.

“You’re the kind of person who needs to stay. Who else would represent the Hunters if not you? Lee Sang-hoon? Kim Daram? They’re not qualified.”

To convince me to stay, Gong Gyeong-min offered me all sorts of positions—Hunter Weapon Quality Inspector, some department head whose name I can’t even remember.

At one point, he even made me an instructor.

Unfortunately, it was during my weakest moment, and my stint as Instructor Park lasted a mere fifteen days.

After countless attempts to sway me, Gong Gyeong-min finally issued an ultimatum.

If I quit the Hunters, he’d sever all ties with me.

Looking back, it was a terrible decision on his part, but back then, I still had my edge.

The next day, I left the Hunters.

As expected, we never contacted each other again.

I didn’t think about him, and even when we crossed paths at the National Crisis Management Committee, we ignored each other.

It was seamless, as if we were strangers from the start.

Yet here I am, thinking about him.

The first person to bring up the idea of an alumni association was none other than Gong Gyeong-min.

He’s in Jeju now.

Incidentally, I also remember him giving a wedding gift of 50,000 won for Kim Daram’s wedding without attending.

I only know the amount because I delivered the envelope on his behalf and opened it out of curiosity.

*

Nothing really changes just because an alumni association was formed.

The world remains the same, steadily and inexorably heading toward destruction.

Recently, I’ve noticed something surprising: Erosion is slower than expected, and monsters don’t seem to appear as frequently.

On the Viva! Apocalypse! American board, someone posted an analysis about this phenomenon.

Apparently, in countries that remain relatively intact—like the U.S., Japan, and Australia—the frequency of monster surges has increased fivefold compared to pre-war levels.

It’s hard to believe, but it’s as if the monsters are focusing their efforts on stronger, more resilient nations rather than wasting energy on what’s already broken.

But does it really matter if other countries fall apart?

It might be important to someone like Rebecca, but my recent focus has been elsewhere.

A new user popped up on the board.

Anonymous1523: “LOL, is this the site where all the dirt-poor losers hang out?”

He wasn’t an established user and had no posting history—a total newbie.

But something about this guy was... off.

Anonymous1523: “Driving through the beggar’s town—proof video.”

He uploaded a video.

In it, a man, clearly filmed recently, was driving through a crumbling city. His thin wrist sported a flashy luxury watch, and the car’s emblem—a high-end model—gleamed prominently.

“Hey, you bunch of losers!”

The man’s thin, mocking voice echoed as he shouted at people in the video, laughing with a faceless woman sitting next to him.

The identity of this peculiar figure didn’t remain a mystery for long.

A well-known forum user quickly connected the dots, calling him out directly.

gijayangban: “You’re Yang Sang-gil’s son, aren’t you? LOL.”