Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 83.2: Rumor (2)

Rumors exist everywhere.

From celebrity gossip to stock market whispers, conspiracy theories, and more, they capture people’s attention, are consumed, and eventually fade away.

In the extreme stress and isolation of a warzone, where information is scarce, rumors tend to become more provocative and despair-inducing.

There were countless rumors during my time in China, too.

Stories about monsters being under the control of intelligent extraterrestrial beings, leader-class monsters directing groups of other monsters, monsters blending in with humans by mimicking them, and even urban legends claiming that children born to the Awakened were actually monsters themselves.

The rumor I posted on the forum was simply a rehashed version of one of those Chinese rumors.

What gives these rumors their power is that they exist in the space between lies and truth.

Some rumors were eventually debunked as nonsense, but others turned out to be true.

This is why rumors can’t be completely dismissed. It’s the dilemma of those standing on the battlefield. And in a sense, everyone is on the battlefield now.

Me, King, even Unicorn from Jeju—we’re all the same.

I have a vague understanding of how gangsters like King operate.

At first glance, gang organizations seem to disregard human life, casually killing and discarding their subordinates. But in reality, few groups value their people as much as gangs do.

A gang’s power doesn’t come from laws or public support; it comes from the number of strong gangsters under its control.

And if those subordinates are well-trained and highly loyal, even better.

King wouldn’t want to lose any of his key subordinates. Naturally, he wouldn’t ignore even a small rumor.

Now that King has taken the bait, I need to reel him in.

The rumors I’ve encountered all share one common trait:

Aside from the most outlandish ones, every deeply discussed rumor prominently features an authoritative figure, like a professor or expert.

This is what Francis Bacon referred to as the "Idols of the Theatre," a deeply rooted logical fallacy. Yet even after centuries, this tactic remains an effective tool for scammers.

Thus, Professor M. Cheng is the cornerstone and protagonist of the rumor I’m pushing.

How convincingly I craft M. Cheng as a plausible figure will determine whether I catch a big fish like King—or end up getting caught myself.

Sitting in my dark bunker, I thought deeply about the character of M. Cheng.

He’s probably in his fifties, with a lean frame, black hair streaked with gray, and glasses.

As his surname suggests, he’s of Chinese descent.

The "M" could stand for Michael or Maurice. It’s definitely not "Um," though I did briefly entertain the idea of how "M" could somehow be twisted into "Um."

M. Cheng’s field of expertise is biotechnology, but he must also be an authority on mutations and monster research.

I didn’t need to fabricate papers or books for him, though.

I lacked the training to write academic papers, and no functional academic database sites existed anymore.

So how could I breathe life into the character of M. Cheng?

I focused on one of PaleNet’s features: the wiki editing platform, AntWiki.

While PaleNet itself had essentially died with users losing access to the internet, its servers, housed alongside John Nae-non in a radiation-filled darkroom, were still running strong.

Naturally, the wiki feature—essentially a pre-war data clone—was still usable.

[Welcome to AntWiki!]

It was still up and running.

I decided to create an entry for Professor M. Cheng.

“...”

Tap, tap, tap.

Full-time professor in the Department of Biotechnology at Harvard University, recognized as a leading authority on mutation and monster research.During his doctoral studies, he and fellow scholar Edmond K. Park (rumored to be of Korean descent) discovered the M.E.-Rees reaction, shocking the academic world.Recently, the professor reportedly identified an aggressive mutation factor that instantly zombifies living humans upon inhalation and has begun research to commercialize it.This project was, of course, terminated in the U.S. following protests from various bioethics organizations.However, rumors persist that the research continues in secret at U.S. military bases located in Korea, Japan, and Germany.Entry completed.

But this alone wouldn’t fool a cunning gangster boss like King.

I sent a message to Ballantine.

SKELTON:

Are you still alive?

Honestly, I wasn’t sure about this part.

Ballantine rarely left comments, and he was in Incheon.

If he didn’t reply, I’d have to come up with another plan or excuse.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long for him to respond.

Message from Ballantine:

Barely alive. I’ve still got things to do.

He was alive.

This skinny, bespectacled friend of mine.

For some reason, I felt a pang of emotion as I continued typing.

SKELTON:

(Skelton touched) How are things there?

Message from Ballantine:

The fighting has calmed down, but bullets and bombs are still flying from all directions.

Most of the government facilities are on their last legs. Those who could leave have already gone, leaving only the husks behind. They’re saying they’ll send another cargo plane next time, but who knows?

From rotting corpses to urban legends about monsters, the post-apocalyptic world was fertile ground for their spread. Ballantine confirmed the chaos in Incheon, mentioning how unbearable the stench had become. Frozen bodies from the winter were now decaying, and the corpses of those killed during riots were starting to rot.

Ballantine:

"Living feels like dying here. The smell of corpses is almost worse than zombies."

Incheon was clearly descending into hell.

I decided to ask one more thing.

SKELTON:

"What about the research lab?"

Ballantine:

"The lab? Everyone there must be dead."

SKELTON:

"What? Why?"

Ballantine:

"It was shelled. Not just the usual mortar attacks either—155mm artillery bombardment. They pounded it for thirty minutes straight. Must’ve fired at least a hundred shells. Nothing is left there. Not even bodies. The place is completely obliterated."

“...”

Was this the work of the Legion faction?

Foll𝑜w current novℯls on ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm.

I worried about Woo Min-hee’s fate. But knowing her tenacity, if she wasn’t killed in the initial bombardment, there was a good chance she survived.

Trusting in Woo Min-hee’s resilience, I moved on to the real reason I reached out to Ballantine.

Ballantine:

"You want me to edit the AntWiki entry date?"

SKELTON:

"Yeah, I need a favor. King—the gangster boss—has marked me."

Ballantine:

"(Ballantine, shocked) What?! You’ve been marked by King? The King?"

SKELTON:

"Yes. Long story, but I need you to edit it."

Ballantine:

"I don’t know if this will help much, but it’s not a difficult task. I’ll take care of it."

SKELTON:

"Oh, and if you ever need to leave, come to my territory. I can’t go all the way to Incheon, but if you get somewhere safe, I’ll pick you up."

Ballantine:

"I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll stay near PaleNet for now. If things change, I’ll let you know."

People become precious when so many around you die or leave.

I was starting to understand what that truly meant.

Ballantine, as promised, changed the edit date on Professor M. Cheng’s entry to match most of the other entries—three years ago, back when the war started and everything stopped.

Grateful, I sent a message to King, aka CrunchRoll.

SKELTON:

"YES."

After sending the message, I went outside.

As important as my online maneuvering was, I couldn’t neglect physical surveillance now that the gangsters had built their base right in front of me.

Oddly enough, having them there wasn’t all bad—they kept other threats at bay.

Tang! Tang! Tang!

Whenever a car approached from a distance, they fired shots to scare it off. When shadows of dark mutations appeared, they used gunfire to chase them away.

Still, coexistence with them wasn’t a viable option.

One of us would have to leave.

Unless I joined King’s gang—which wasn’t happening.

As I continued my watch, nothing out of the ordinary happened.

King’s men stood guard and worked on reinforcing their base.

Most of the time, they just stared blankly into the barren wasteland, seemingly bored out of their minds.

What were they even doing?

For me, just observing them kept me alert and mildly entertained, but what could they possibly enjoy here?

In the afternoon, they held a light-footed game of foot volleyball.

It wasn’t much, but it looked like they were having a lot of fun.

But the amusement didn’t last long.

When the game ended, they returned to their posts or disappeared into their bunker, looking thoroughly disinterested.

Some of them, however, did exactly what I had feared most: they began scouting.

A group of five gangsters, fully armed, started exploring the surrounding area.

For now, they stayed close to their base, but it was only a matter of time before they expanded their patrols to include my territory.

“...”

I crouched low and watched them.

Five men.

They moved in a military-style patrol formation, but if they came within fifty meters of me, I could take them out in ten seconds—provided I had the element of surprise.

It was a slim chance, but it was a potential solution if it came to violence.

After confirming there was no further activity from the gang as night fell, I returned to the bunker and checked the internet.

I was greeted by a string of messages from King.

CrunchRoll:

"Hey, Skelton, source?"

CrunchRoll:

"Why are your replies so slow? Do you know who I am?"

CrunchRoll:

"Did you die? All that time spouting lame jokes, and now you kick the bucket on today of all days?"

CrunchRoll:

"Hey, did you die? If you don’t show up within a day, I’ll assume you’re dead."

CrunchRoll:

(Photo attached)

This guy... is he obsessive or what?

Just because I was away for a bit, he spammed me with messages.

This was something Woo Min-hee might’ve done.

The photo he sent was bizarre: a woman in a full-body bunny costume striking a seductive pose.

“?”

What the hell was that about?

Feeling uneasy, I replied.

SKELTON:

(Skelton Fear) "There’s a place called AntWiki on PaleNet. It has a page on Professor M. Cheng. I stumbled upon it while exploring."

Judging by his patterns, he’d probably respond by tomorrow.

I removed my clothes, handled some business, ate a simple meal, and returned to the computer.

CrunchRoll:

"AntWiki? How do I access it?"

King had replied.

Was he online right now?

SKELTON:

"There’s a small link labeled AntWiki at the top of the PaleNet main page."

CrunchRoll:

"Okay, I’m checking it out now. Stay at your computer."

CrunchRoll:

"Hmm."

CrunchRoll:

"It really exists. M. Cheng, huh. What kind of name is that?"

King seemed to be the chatty type.

The way he commented on every little thing confirmed it 100%.

CrunchRoll:

"Oh."

CrunchRoll:

"Not bad. Seems legit."

Did I have him?

CrunchRoll:

"Hey, do you have any videos?"

Videos?

What was he talking about?

CrunchRoll:

"I’m a skeptical person. I don’t trust things just from reading. Anyone can write words. At the very least, there should be a photo or video if Professor M. Cheng is as famous as you claim. Surely there’s an interview video somewhere, right?"

CrunchRoll:

"And by the way, if such a dangerous virus research lab existed, why aren’t there any zombies around? For the record, I’ve got men stationed there."

SKELTON:

"That place got nuked, remember?"

CrunchRoll:

"Yeah, but even if dangerous materials leaked, wouldn’t there still be zombies around after some time? Why aren’t my men turning into zombies?"

“...”

This gangster wasn’t going to be easy to fool.