Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 83.1: Rumor (1)

With Reporter Guy gone and the PaleNet users disappearing, my only sources of information are the scattered friends on our forum and the Legion faction’s radio broadcasts.

For the past three days, thunder-like gunfire has echoed from the north.

There were even moments when fighter jets roared across the distant skies, splitting the air with ear-shattering noise.

I didn’t see the jets themselves, but the contrails they left behind stretched unmistakably from south to north.

The forum atmosphere remains calm, but the users, myself included, know the truth.

Another hard time is coming.

I tidied up the area around the bunker and ran diagnostics on the facilities.

The generator was still in good condition.

The synthetic fuel worked well with the system.

The emissions were even cleaner than when I used diesel.

The problem, however, was the smell.

It wasn’t the typical scent of oil but rather the unpleasant, chemical stench unique to synthetic compounds.

It was a flaw I hadn’t noticed when running it with the motorcycle.

While the smell doesn’t spread far, its distinctiveness—like cigarette smoke—meant that even faint traces could attract attention. A dangerous liability.

I personally cleaned out the makeshift pit toilet that had served us through the winter.

I wanted to wash it out with water, but my resources weren’t plentiful enough for that kind of cleanup.

While the ground surface was beginning to thaw under the spring warmth, the underground still clung to the bitter cold of the past winter.

The groundwater intake pipes were half-frozen, filling the tank to only half capacity.

Cleaning the pit during a rainy day would be a better solution.

Most of my day was now spent not on the internet but on external surveillance.

Like Sue, who used to stare endlessly at unfamiliar horizons, I now scoured every possible approach to my territory using telescopes and observation equipment.

Rebecca, Defender, and Gold were gone. Their absence wasn’t just emotional but directly impacted the number of zones that needed watching.

When Rebecca and her daughter were around, I barely worried about the four-lane highway to the east.

Early in the war, their gunfire made it clear there was someone on that road, and once we became acquainted, we exchanged information through the comms.

The chaotic two-lane road stretching westward was part of Defender’s territory.

Technically, it also connected to Gold’s territory, but those two were so ferocious that I worried about the western road even less than Rebecca’s side.

To the south, there weren’t any paved roads.

There were dirt paths branching from the eastern and western roads, but time had turned them into overgrown fields of weeds and grass.

One small path forked southward from the eastern road, but it too fell under Gold’s domain.

As long as Gold was around, not a single person dared approach through that route.

Now, things were different.

I had to keep watch on all 360 degrees by myself.

There was no telling where people might appear.

There was no time for leisurely internet browsing.

Even if I could access the internet, the number of posts had dropped dramatically.

The disappearance of my PaleNet friends played a role, but it also signaled something else: the other forum users were likely sensing the danger too, devoting themselves more to their own surveillance.

During the day, while on high alert, the forum sometimes went completely silent.

But after sunset, the users who had been on watch returned to the forum to share their stories.

dongtanmom:

When we realized that the city faintly visible on the horizon wasn’t Jeju but Shanghai, we understood everything.

We understood that we had been abandoned. That our country had discarded us like garbage and dumped us onto China’s shores.

I still don’t particularly like Baek Seung-hyun, but I have to admit, his content creation skills are incredible.

Not just his choice of topics but his sense of timing is impeccable.

dongtanmom:

So, the government estimates that about 300,000 people, while my estimate is closer to 100,000, were stranded alive on the Chinese coast.

What do you think is happening among those people now?

Reading Dongtanmom’s post, I fell asleep. But I wouldn’t sleep long.

Even without setting an alarm, my eyes opened exactly four hours later.

It wasn’t about age.

The oppressive anxiety weighing down on me, as dark as the surrounding night, shook me awake.

When safety had been relatively assured, I could eat and drink with moderation.

But now, every bite of food and every drop of water had to be tied to survival.

If I were to catch the flu, suffer from food poisoning, or contract a waterborne disease that could sap my energy, my survival chances would plummet—no matter my experience or training.

I drank only water that I purified daily with capsules.

I ate canned and freeze-dried food that didn’t require cooking.

What nutrients I lacked were supplemented with pills.

Caffeine capsules became a good friend—they kept my mind sharp without needing coffee.

Minimizing physical exertion was also critical.

In a situation where an accident could happen at any moment, unnecessary fatigue was bound to lead to fatal mistakes when it mattered most.

I avoided hard labor and only undertook tasks with a high risk of injury after preparing excessive safety measures.

This routine had been my way of life during the first year of the war.

The only exception was farming.

I grew leafy greens and hardy crops like potatoes, scattering them throughout the bunker’s vicinity.

I considered rice farming but decided to monitor the situation in the surrounding area before making a decision.

Aside from the forum, my only form of entertainment was the Legion faction’s broadcasts.

At dusk, a calm woman’s soothing voice, paired with soft music, drifted into my ears like a lullaby.

“The current temperature is eight degrees Celsius. The wind is calm, and the waves are gentle. Tomorrow’s high in Chuncheon is expected to reach fourteen degrees Celsius, with a low of four degrees.”

“The national army is conducting force reconnaissance on the outskirts of Seoul, abandoned by the Awakened puppet government. Countless citizens born and raised in Seoul have lost their homes and are forced to live as strangers in unwanted lands.”

As the situation in Incheon grew more tense, the announcer’s criticisms became sharper.

I wasn’t particularly interested in the content of her broadcasts.

I simply enjoyed the music and the familiar voice, a reminder of pre-war broadcasts.

What I paid close attention to, however, was the danger warnings at the end of each broadcast.

“...As the weather warms, mutations that survived the winter are becoming more active. Reports from Wonju indicate flocks of chicken mutations. They travel in groups and, like other mutations, prioritize attacking humans. If you encounter them, immediately flee to safety and seek assistance.”

The activity of mutations had increased significantly in recent days.

Even before the snow had completely melted, I had already observed several mutations.

Most of them showed no interest in my territory, merely wandering across the wasteland, but the risk was still present.

Especially with mutations that traveled in packs.

But the greatest threat to us remained other humans.

In the early morning hours, two trucks arrived at the U.S. military base, unloading armed men and two containers before heading south.

On the sides of the containers, they had spray-painted a red emblem I recognized—a roaring big cat.

It was King’s mark.

What I knew about King, the gang leader, was that he was a user on our forum, going by the nickname CrunchRoll.

His violent and brutal personality? That went without saying for gangsters.

Still, the fact that King was so persistent was irritating.

It had been over a month since he lost the cargo plane, and yet he was still chasing after its remnants.

His tenacity was certainly annoying, as evidenced by the repeated drone reconnaissance of my area.

But something about their recent actions filled me with unease.

“Hey! Over here! A little more!”

The gangsters bustled around near the U.S. base.

They weren’t searching for someone or preparing to attack.

They were working on something.

The moment I realized what they were doing, my mind refused to accept it.

I needed to watch a little longer.

“...”

By sunset, their intentions were crystal clear.

They were building a base.

In other words, King’s gang was constructing a den of villains right on the edge of my territory.

Unknown neighbors building a house next door is a problem so classic it’s taught in grade-school language classes. But this time, the neighbors were an armed gang of thugs.

And as far as I knew, there was no precedent for this particular scenario.

*

Twenty-two trained soldiers had moved in next door.

Updat𝓮d fr𝙤m ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com.

Unlike the raiders Defender and I dealt with previously, they didn’t keep women around or let their guard down carelessly.

They were entirely different from the impulsive refugees who set up makeshift shelters.

The fact that they had been flying drones around after the cargo plane’s departure wasn’t just to grasp the situation but also to scout the area with the intention of establishing a new base.

As soon as they got off the trucks, they moved with precision, transforming the area around the military bunker into an impregnable fortress.

A watchtower was erected on a half-collapsed steel tower, flying King’s flag, and a series of motion sensors were installed near the crumbled fences.

Day and night, soldiers maintained strict vigilance, patrolling their perimeter relentlessly.

These weren’t ordinary raiders.

They were the elite—handpicked, disciplined soldiers among the raiders.

Fortunately, the distance between the U.S. military base and my bunker was significant enough that the noise from my generator or the chemical stench from burned synthetic fuel wouldn’t reach them. But on clear days or bright, moonlit nights, the smoke from my territory could be spotted.

Why, of all places, did they choose that spot?

It’s a good location.

In the early days of the war, when the area was hit directly by a nuclear strike, it was a death zone where you couldn’t even set foot without a hazmat suit. But now, it’s an A-grade infrastructure site, equipped with a bunker built by the U.S. military itself.

The functional airfield right above it might’ve also tempted King.

Just a few days ago, a massive cargo plane landed and took off there.

If the Incheon government were still intact, they might’ve hesitated, but with Incheon essentially collapsed, there’s nothing stopping them.

The real problem is what they’ll do next.

With soldiers as well-trained as these, once their base is fully established, they’ll thoroughly scout the surrounding area and claim it as their territory.

This means they might come near my domain.

I don’t expect coexisting with them to end in a happy ending, nor do I think this situation will drag on for long.

Before summer arrives, there’ll either be a clash or I’ll end up being hunted down.

The problem is their firepower.

Even if Defender were here, they’d be no easy opponent.

They’re on a completely different level from the clumsy raiders and refugees I’ve faced so far.

I need a powerful ally, but I haven’t been able to reach Woo Min-hee.

“...”

What should I do?

My gaze eventually settled on my laptop.

*

A forward base established by a gang—an unprecedented situation. I had three options to address this through the Viva! Apocalypse! Korean forum. The first was asking for advice.

Using a translator, I sought input on the English board, which had the largest number of active users.

Anonymous1882:

A gang of over 20 members has set up a camp near my territory. I’m armed and have a few heavy weapons, including a Javelin, but I’m on my own.

They’re trained, and their camp is protected by motion sensors and surveillance equipment, with at least eight guards on watch around the clock. Is there any way I can take them down?

A few comments trickled in from the English board users.

JasonX:

No chance. You’ll get killed.

Perucias:

Maybe, if you’re Rambo.

Ohio:

Big gun, lots of bullets.

Not particularly helpful.

To be fair, they were right.

I was attempting the impossible—throwing an egg at a rock. It wasn’t surprising that no one had useful advice.

I quickly gave up on asking questions and moved on to the next option.

The second option was requesting backup.

There was one person I could ask for help, though it grated against my pride to even consider it: Dies_irae69.

Reluctantly, I unblocked him and checked his latest posts.

Dies_irae69:

The west has fallen. You need to prepare. Surviving on your own will be tough. Honestly, it only takes three raiders to overrun a bunker like yours without any losses.

But what if you have three people? Even nine would hesitate to attack you. And if you have nine? You could take on thirty. That’s the power of a group.

He was still preaching his brand of group survivalism with fervor.

Asking him for help would mean swallowing my pride.

And in some ways, this guy was darker than King.

Turning to such a twisted individual for assistance would be a last resort, something I’d do only if there were no other options and if I had an absolute reason to survive.

I wasn’t at that point yet.

The third option was, admittedly, absurd. But it was also the one with the most potential.

It involved using the gang’s leader, CrunchRoll, who was a regular on the forum. My weapon of choice against him? Tradition and history—the power of rumors.

Tap, tap, tap.

SKELTON:

(Skelton’s Chilling Story) The Mysterious Mutation Virus Research Facility at the Old U.S. Military Base

Inside the old U.S. military base, there was supposedly a sinister research facility conducting experiments to turn humans into murderous mutations.

According to Professor M. Cheng, a renowned biotechnologist from Harvard University, the virus immediately transforms anyone who inhales it into a zombie-like state, causing them to ferociously attack those around them.

Apparently, this mutation virus was weaponized and dropped on China as a biological weapon, causing tens of millions of casualties. The U.S. government kept this top-secret until the very end.

Click.

“...”

The bait was cast.

Now, all I could do was wait for him to bite.

mmmmmmmmm:

What kind of nonsense is this?

Anonymous458:

Is this for real?! I’ve never heard of this before.

I ignored the small fry.

The only fish I was interested in was CrunchRoll.

For some reason, I had a gut feeling he’d take the bait.

That King bastard rarely left comments, but from his tone in past posts, it was clear he read every popular thread on the board.

Besides, he was undoubtedly the one who ordered the forward base to be built at the military base.

If he saw the post, he’d feel uneasy enough to ask about it.

There was no response that day.

As usual, I fell asleep while keeping watch over the U.S. base.

The next day, a message arrived.

Message from CrunchRoll:

Hey, is that post you made yesterday true?

The King—Sejong’s “king”—had bitten the bait.