Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 73.1: The Armband (1)

Unicorn18's live broadcast did not provide clarity or resolution. Instead, it sparked a whirlwind of controversies and questions.

The video itself was unstable, fragmented with cryptic hints, leaving only a handful of people capable of deciphering its meaning.

Disputes ranged from whether the blurry mountain shown was Hallasan or Baekdusan, to whether Unicorn18’s voice was male or female.

For those unfamiliar with Jeju’s current state, recognizing it from the footage was no easy task.

Gone were the warm, idyllic images of tangerine orchards, dol hareubangs, lush forests, and blue seas. Instead, there stood towering concrete walls, pillboxes, fortresses, and scorched earth. Few could confidently identify it as Jeju.

Most telling of all was Unicorn18's post-video behavior. True to form, he ignored all responses, maintaining his infamous 20:1 post-to-comment ratio and continuing his spree of absurd posts.

Unicorn18: "Kano jo-ni~ Naa-tte ageru~"

Unicorn18: "Kono, pull it!"

Unicorn18: "Feeling good today... "

Unicorn18: "Red Archive Best Pick.five"

Nevertheless, the significance of Unicorn18's video was undeniable.

According to VivaBot, the final selection of Live! Apocalypse! content required approval from Melon Musk himself.

This meant Unicorn18's video had received his acknowledgment.

The reason behind Unicorn’s live broadcast was clear:

He wanted to separate PaleNet users—endless beggars and whiners—from the rest of us.

VivaBot had even promised to block PaleNet’s access once the Live! content was posted.

But nothing changed.

Every day in Incheon, thousands froze to death from cold and malnutrition, while just as many perished in gunfights between rival refugee camps.

It wasn’t our concern, nor did we want it to be.

What we desired was a safe haven for our community of apocalyptic nihilists.

When no solution seemed forthcoming, I decided to ask VivaBot directly.

Judging by the number of inquiries she must have received, VivaBot eventually posted a response in the admin chat:

VIVA_BOT014:

"Honestly, there's no immediate way to block the gap between the Korean board and PaleNet."

"We’re short on staff, and I’m sure you’re all aware there’s a civil war in the U.S."

It took only a minute of conversation to realize VivaBot wasn’t exactly the most diligent admin.

True to form, she discarded her earlier promises.

Instead, she proposed a "solution":

VIVA_BOT014:

"But I agree the current state of the Korean board is pretty dire. So, here’s what I’m thinking: we’ll appoint moderators from among the board users after a screening process."

"These moderators can manage the board, block malicious users, and delete harmful posts."

"We’ll decide how many to appoint later, but I think it’s best for Korean board users to solve their own problems."

In short: Handle it yourselves.

It was an infuriatingly irresponsible answer.

But there was one aspect of her response that no Korean could simply ignore:

"...A board moderator?"

The phrase struck me like a bolt of lightning.

It seems I wasn’t alone.

Other users also latched onto this unfamiliar concept.

Anonymous 424: "A board moderator?"

RkkaRa: "Hmm..."

ㅇㅇ: "Huh?"

Gijayangban: "LOL."

Anonymous 458: "Wait, does that mean we’re getting an admin for the board?"

Berkut_break: "So basically, they want to exploit unpaid users as board admins? Lame."

ㅇㅇ: "What is this? Just an armband, really."

Foxgames: "A bit inconvenient, but I’d like to see some form of board management."

RokaGG: "I bet lots of people would jump at the chance."

Chaos erupted.

The thought of these self-important users donning an armband and wielding power was enough to send shivers down my spine.

mmmmmmmmm: "If you appoint me as board moderator, I’ll purge all trolls, beggars, baiters, and unfunny users, creating a clean, enjoyable Korean board!"

dongtanmom: "Nom nom... If you make me mod, nom... I’ll share some juicy China stories, nom..."

Keystone: "Sounds fun if I get the armband~ Count me in, LOL."

Dies_irae69: (Blocked user post)

This was going to be a problem.

No, this board moderator system would bring about the most significant change in the board’s history.

Giving users the power to block, delete, and modify posts? That was more authority than any of us had ever imagined.

I stared at the faint reflection of my face on the monitor and asked myself:

"I have to, don’t I?"

Then answered aloud:

"Of course."

I had never been interested in authority before.

In school, I never ran for class president or showed any interest in student council.

Back then, my sole focus was honing my skills to kill monsters—everything else was a distraction.

But this armband, as trivial as it seemed, could significantly impact what remained of my life.

I had no choice but to secure it.

The Viva! Apocalypse! Korean board moderator candidates were announced:

Berkut_breakAnonymous 424Dies_irae69dongtanmomDolsingmanmmmmmmmmmAnonymous 1031SKELTONMost were unfamiliar names, though a few stood out.

Dolsingman and Anonymous 424 were harmless—they weren’t real threats.

Berkut_break, on the other hand, had long been part of a niche group of snobs, stirring up cliques and discussions in obscure corners of the board.

The most threatening candidate in this election isn’t just any random name—it’s Dies_irae69.

Even during the period when I had blocked him, he steadily recruited users from the board, those who couldn’t endure their isolation or dwindling resources.

This cunning former soldier has formed a group of at least 30 members.

He might very well be the most powerful faction leader here.

That said, his influence stems more from his group’s collective strength than from his personal reputation.

In other words, the votes he can gather are largely limited to those already in his circle.

Among the candidates, the most infamous user is undoubtedly m9.

He’s a household name in Korea, almost a symbol of the nation's apocalyptic fate.

There are even rumors that, during the military faction’s rule over Seoul, people supplied him with food and resources—whether as tribute or admiration is unclear.

As bizarre and unsettling as he is, there’s no denying his popularity.

m9 is a formidable opponent.

Even DongtanMom, who started as a troll, has risen to stardom after moving to China.

If there’s one figure who’s brought the most dramatic change to Viva! Apocalypse!, it’s none other than my senior, Baek Seung-hyun.

There are whispers that Baek’s wife was a former YouTuber, but the credit for the riveting China content he’s produced goes to Baek himself.

DongtanMom is someone to watch out for.

As for me, SKELTON, I’m confident in my credentials.

Without exaggeration, I’m someone who defined an era.

But revealing my true identity is out of the question.

With people like Woo Min-hee, Kang Han-min, and possibly Na Hye-in active on this board, exposing myself as "Professor" is simply not an option.

I’ll have to rely solely on the brand of "SKELTON" to face these formidable adversaries.

But let’s be real—my brand isn’t exactly mainstream.

If I were to compare, I’m like a one-table gourmet restaurant run by a Cordon Bleu chef, while the others are local diners with broad appeal.

Sure, a few connoisseurs recognize my value, but I’m undeniably niche.

"Wait, you’re running for the armband election?"

I reached out to Da-jeong for her opinion.

If she moves away, I might actually miss her.

Suppressing my mixed feelings, I asked her directly:

"Be honest. Do you think I stand a chance?"

"Not a chance."

"Why?"

"Why do you think? SKELTON isn’t popular. Objectively speaking, you’re closer to being disliked."

For a moment, I thought I wouldn’t mind her moving after all.

I quickly ended the call and turned my attention back to the board.

The majority of the board was still overrun by PaleNet beggars represented by countless anonymous "ㅇㅇ" users.

"Save me," "Help me," they’d cry.

Most of them were likely looters, pretending to be desperate survivors.

Genuinely struggling individuals wouldn’t have the luxury to post pleas for help.

With Incheon’s collapse imminent and the local government seemingly abandoning the situation after Yang Sang-gil’s downfall, it’s no surprise.

Even Woo Min-hee hasn’t been in touch since.

She occasionally makes appearances on the board, but it’s clear her hands are tied.

Unicorn18 promised good news by spring, but I doubt this winter will ever end.

It’s still early December, and Christmas hasn’t even arrived yet.

"...There has to be a way."

A way for SKELTON to overcome this disadvantage and rally support from multiple users.

If this were reality, I could distribute food and drinks to win their favor.

But this is the internet.

VIVA_BOT014:

"The voting system requires preparation, so we’ll hold the election in three days."

"In the meantime, candidates should focus on gaining support—especially through Live! content."

To make matters worse, the election will take place immediately after the Live! Apocalypse! session.

This essentially demands that candidates prepare live content.

It makes sense, considering it benefits the board as a whole, but still...

Live content won’t be easy for me.

Revealing my identity is out of the question, especially with people like Kang Han-min or Na Hye-in potentially watching.

It feels like there’s a forbidden boundary in my heart, warning me not to expose myself.

The only realistic live content I could provide would be a mutant hunt.

But hunting would inevitably reveal Park Gyu, shattering the SKELTON facade.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

Caught in this dilemma, an unexpected incident occurred:

PaleNet went offline.