True spring had finally arrived.
The weather had noticeably ward, and the barren wasteland was turning green with new growth.
“Don’t you dare tell Min-hee that I’m Uhm Chang. Do you hear ?”
Jeon Si-hoon had gone to Woo Min-hee.
He didn’t get to et her, though. On the outskirts of Seoul, he had transferred to a governnt vehicle that had co to pick him up in advance.
There shouldn’t be any issues. I’d drilled it into his head repeatedly, and besides, there had been no word from Woo Min-hee since.
No news is good news, or so they say, though the Legion faction’s broadcasts confird daily that the situation in Paju was intense.
I could only assu Woo Min-hee was giving her all to hold back the monster outbreaks there.
What puzzled , though, was why the governnt—who had effectively abandoned Incheon and its residents—was so adamantly defending Paju. Surely, there must be so deeper reasoning I wasn’t privy to.
There had been no new ssages from King.
He seed active on the forums, but his style suggested he only comnted when absolutely necessary. A dignified forum user, if you will. With so many won at his side and 30,000 people under his rule, he likely didn’t feel the sa pressing need for human interaction as we did.
anwhile, Incheon had entered its own “Warring States Period.”
Factions within refugee shelters ford alliances, fought battles, and—unbelievably—even engaged in all-out extermination wars at the shelter level.
I had no way of knowing the exact details.
There were no forum users left in Incheon, and even Failnet users had gone silent. The only information about Incheon ca from unreliable hearsay.
One thing was clear: the number of refugees pouring out into the wasteland wasn’t small.
Fortunately, they weren’t heading into my territory but instead toward the eastern regions controlled by the Legion faction.
People were leaving the governnt behind and flocking to the warlords.
With daily gunfights in Incheon and the Legion faction broadcasting serene classical music, it wasn’t hard to see why the latter seed like the better option.
Despite all this chaos, at least the world around was peaceful.
Recently, the forums had been buzzing about a popular topic: the crafting of “Judge Killers.”
The Judge Killer was a homade crossbow that had gained infamy early in the war. It was nad after a notorious incident where soone, bearing a grudge over a legal ruling, shot a judge with a crossbow in court. Now, with ammunition becoming scarce, this crossbow had co back into vogue.
Apparently, rural forum users had already been relying on Judge Killers for the past two years. It made sense—rural areas hadn’t seen nearly as many guns or bullets distributed.
Personally, I couldn’t care less about crossbows.
What did interest was fishing.
My freezer was empty.
Though I had a small fridge running, it mostly contained water and fresh produce, with no frozen at left.
Sure, there were plenty of alternative protein sources—mostly canned goods or those unappetizing protein bars—but relying on them had made one thing clear: the human body craves fresh protein.
Mutations road near my territory, but hunting them wasn’t easy. Processing and transporting the at was another ordeal altogether.
Instead, I found a simpler source of protein.
Behind the hill where my bunker lay flowed a small stream.
When I originally chose this site for my bunker, I hadn’t considered fishing from the stream. But desperate tis called for desperate asures.
I turned to survivalist videos I’d stockpiled before the war to study fishing techniques.
According to the videos, nets and fish traps were more efficient than fishing rods.
While nets were the most effective, they were too conspicuous, required significant labor, and left one vulnerable during use.
Electric fishing—draining a battery to stun fish—was another option, but in an era where batteries were more precious than gold, that wasn’t happening.
After much deliberation, I settled on fish traps.
Using mosquito netting and so wire, I constructed simple traps based on the survival videos. For bait, I used an old jar of fernted soybean paste that had hardened into a rock and grown mold. It had been sitting in my storage, and now, its mont of glory had arrived.
The beauty of fish traps was their simplicity.
All I had to do was place the baited trap in the water and retrieve it later.
I set the traps early in the morning and collected them in the evening.
“Hmm.”
There were a few minnows in the trap, but not enough to be satisfying.
Perhaps I needed more traps. The survivalist DVDs also recomnded setting multiple traps.
I spent the day making additional traps, sitting at a table and chair I’d set up on the hill above my bunker.
When I returned to the bunker, I went through my usual routine of sitting in front of my laptop and logging onto the internet.
The first thing I always did was search for “Skelton” and “Uhm Chang.”
Nothing.
Half relieved, half disappointed, I moved on to check the popular posts.
Lately, even the popular posts had little of interest.
The Judge Killer trend had taken over, with everyone posting pictures of their crude crossbows and others liking the posts.
One such post caught my eye:
mmmmmmmmm: “The Judge Finisher.”
Even m9, who was as trend-sensitive as I was, had made a crossbow. Like his ho, though, the crossbow looked oddly lopsided.
Dongtanmom seed to share my sentints.
dongtanmam: “Yum yum... Judge Killer... yeah, sure, yum yum... Maybe useful in a world without bullets, yum yum... But what if the guy you et has a gun? Then it’s trash, yum...”
Dongtanmom wasn’t a fan of the Judge Killer trend either.
Not that I’d ever like or comnt on his post.
Today was the day for Live! Apocalypse!.
Unfortunately, even Live! Apocalypse! had been running out of steam lately.
Despite airing only once a week, the user base of Viva! Apocalypse! was never that large. Spectacles like Dongtanmom’s first show didn’t co around often.
The current quality was so poor that they’d even started featuring mukbangs—a Korean trend of eating on cara.
It might have been tolerable if the food looked appetizing, but watching soone eat maggot-ridden cheese and moldy bread was too disgusting, even for a devoted fan like .
lon Mask, aware of the declining quality, had skipped last week’s broadcast, promising instead to deliver sothing “new and astonishing” this week.
With half-hearted expectations, I sat in front of my laptop, eating fried minnows dipped in salt as I waited for the broadcast to begin.
Soon, the screen lit up, and our creator, lon Mask, appeared.
“Hello, citizens of the world! Viva-rian warriors!”
As always, lon Mask stood center stage with the towering presence of the murderous sloth, Bumpy, beside him.
Munch, munch.
Bumpy chewed on a romaine lettuce leaf, his grotesque, clawed hands tearing through it. Next to him, lon Mask wore a disappointed expression.
“Regrettably, today’s Live! Apocalypse! is also taking a break,” lon said.
Two consecutive weeks of disappointnt.
The chat exploded.
coral8103: "Why are there so many breaks lately?"
X'Ds_Grrrrr: "Seriously, I get that content is drying up, but this is too much."
Anonymous13: "At least it’s not another mukbang. That was the worst."
L-V-R-M: "Don’t expect soone else to create fun content for you. Make your own. You all saw this coming."
Anonymous100: "Then how about a ga of Jason and Bumpy in the anti, lon!"
sulfar88: "Boohoohoo~"
...
...
I couldn’t say I wasn’t disappointed either.
Still, it was better than another mukbang.
lon Mask’s eyes darted across the screen, clearly reading the chat. Soon, his expression shifted into a broad grin.
“You’ve all heard of A.I.-generated art, right?”
A.I. art?
“You know, those tools that create images based on keywords you input?”
It jogged my mory. Before the war, there had been programs that could create artwork by processing a few tags.
For example, if you fed tags like ‘legend,’ ‘hunter,’ and ‘cool guy’ into an A.I. image program, it would generate a depiction of Skelton. Such tools were common on various websites.
But now? Dusting off an outdated tool like that seed underwhelming.
As a third-year veteran user, I could confidently say that A.I.-generated images would only degrade the quality of forum posts. It would give boring, unheard-of users like Locazizi a reason to occupy an irritating little corner of the forums with their A.I. spam.
But, as always, our creator was one step ahead of us.
“I’m not talking about just pictures,” lon continued. “I’m talking about using A.I. to make videos. The headquarters in California had been working on an A.I. animation tool, and we’ve restored it. We’re testing it now. In other words, we’re making A.I.-generated movies.”
lon Mask threw an arm around Bumpy’s shoulder.
“You’ve all got at least one wild, thrilling story to share, right? But telling it through text is boring. Who’s going to read all those words? Even comics have their limits. So, we’ll turn your stories into movies. That’s right—movies everyone can watch. The first ones might look like animations due to technical limitations, but once we gather enough data, we might produce films that could make Hollywood eat its heart out!”
He clapped his hands.
The screen transitioned to a 3D animated scene of a space station, where cartoon-style characters ca to life.
One man killed soone, sealed off a section of the station, donned a spacesuit, and destroyed the external antenna. anwhile, lon Mask, rendered in cartoon form, appeared clueless, typing away on a computer with an innocent expression.
As he looked up, Bumpy’s cartoonish face filled the screen, and a grand title erged with a booming sound effect: Movie! Apocalypse!
“This is what I’m talking about!”
Real-life lon Mask reappeared, wearing his signature smug grin.
“...”
There was no denying it.
The short clip was a well-crafted 3D animation.
Had all of that really been created by A.I.?
Sure enough, the global chat erupted with amazent.
Anonymous13: "You’re telling A.I. made this?"
L-V-R-M: "The movent’s a bit stiff, but from a distance, it looks like sothing Disney or Pixar would make."
demolition’86: "What about the sound effects and music? Were those A.I.-generated too?"
yamazakism: "Incredible. Imagine how far humanity could’ve progressed if not for the war."
I_HATE_NY: "I want to see a movie about Dongtanmom! He’s an amazing survivor and storyteller!"
Ohio9: "So, we’re talking a new movie every week?"
mmmmmmmmm: "Interesting."
...
...
As the chat scrolled faster than a raging river, lon Mask winked at us.
“So, send in your best story ideas! Our Viva! team will use cutting-edge A.I. to turn your tales into full-fledged movies. Oh, and the more action-packed, the better! Keep the lodramas and tear-jerking sob stories to yourselves, thanks!”
lon Mask disappeared, and instructions for submitting story ideas filled the screen.
I read them carefully.
The guidelines called for stories that were exciting, fresh, filled with action or crises, and capable of satisfying a wide audience.
As I finished reading, I found myself nodding unconsciously.
“Hm…”
This event… could it have been made with in mind?
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