They say everything becos a mory in hindsight, but obvious mistakes and wrongdoings cling to you like shards of glass embedded in your body—they don’t disappear easily.
For , a single thoughtless comnt beca such a shard.
I rember it coming out while chatting with a group that had sward over, pretending to be friendly after training.
During evaluations, there were team assessnts, and in places where team performance held weight, a competent team mber was bound to be popular.
Especially soone like —who had never once missed the top spot.
At the beginning of the sester, with new team assignnts approaching, students with application forms in hand gathered like clouds.
I’d always kept my distance from others, so I didn’t have anyone I was particularly close to—but I wasn’t cold or abrasive either.
I kept things generally amicable.
After all, I had more than enough hostility to pour onto monsters. There was no need to pick fights with my classmates.
In that situation, I ended up having a half-obligatory conversation with a bunch of guys trying to leech off my success. That’s when Kang Han-min’s na ca up.
“Kang Han-min? Why would you want to team up with soone like him?”
I was young, but even now, that way of thinking feels unusually mature.
“You can’t build a perfect team. There’s always one or two weak links. I’m thinking of including Kang Han-min as a contingency.”
Even if I were to go back to that mont now, my evaluation wouldn’t change.
Not even as a pleasantry—Kang Han-min was below average.
Sure, enduring Jang Ki-young’s borderline gaslighting abuse showed he had strong ntal resilience. But ntal strength without talent just endangers not only himself, but the lives of his teammates.
The problem was—Kang Han-min was right there when I said it.
Right after I’d spoken those careless words, I looked up and locked eyes with Kang Han-min as he approached with the sa application form.
In that fleeting instant, his eyes shifted rapidly.
From expectation and admiration, to shock, and then to disappointnt and despair.
Like a thriving plant suddenly withering, Kang Han-min hunched his shoulders, turned around, and walked away—almost like fleeing.
“...Was that Kang Han-min?”
“What was he doing here? Don’t tell he wanted to team up with Park Gyu?”
“But that comnt just now—didn’t he hear it?”
I could feel the smug smiles spreading across the faces around .
A brief incident.
At the ti, I thought it was no big deal—just a trivial, forgettable mont.
But that mory kept twisting inside like glass shards embedded in flesh, leaving a cold sting in my chest.
In other words, our relationship started off on the wrong foot.
It was a connection that began with a mistake, and only seed to end when I shed my uniform and began construction on the bunker.
Now, four years after the war ended, Kang Han-min returned to —more vividly than ever.
A_FOOL: current_status.jpg
There was only one photo attached.
A single wide-angle landscape shot, taken from ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) high ground.
I recognized the view.
It was from Jeju.
That wasteland below the always-foggy ridge, not far from the outpost I had briefly stayed at.
But this ti, the fog had cleared—like a lie.
There was only one ti I ever saw the fog disappear there.
And in that mont, the very cause of the world’s downfall stood solemnly in the real world like a nightmare made manifest.
A Rift.
But in this photo, no Rift could be seen.
It had been completely erased.
“...”
Yes.
The Rift was closed.
*
“Park Gyu. Why the hell are you staring into space like that?”
There weren’t many strict rules in our territory, but at the very least, we all agreed to eat breakfast together.
It doubled as morning roll call—rather than forcing it, we frad it as a chance for a bit of communication.
Everyone brought their own food, but even if you didn’t have anything to eat, you still had to show up. That was the rule.
Even Cheon Young-jae, who lived separately, made it a point to attend breakfast.
Apparently, my face didn’t look too great today—even to the others.
I could feel them watching .
“...Didn’t sleep well. My body feels stiff.”
I couldn’t tell them the truth.
Whether the Rift was actually closed or not—that was sothing I had concluded on my own.
The post, presumably made by Kang Han-min, had quickly been buried under a flood of wailing posts from the dead.
Considering how vague the photo was—and how few people would even understand what it depicted—that was expected.
And the fact that the post didn’t match the current hot topics on the board probably helped bury it too.
The post was soon deleted.
I don’t know for sure if it was Kang Han-min who uploaded it, but I have a good guess as to why it was deleted.
Maybe the poster thought they were revealing a trump card—a piece of valuable information. But when it didn’t even get a single comnt, let alone go viral, they got angry and took it down.
I’ve been there—I know the feeling.
The real issue is that there’s been no word since.
Our board? Sure, that’s to be expected. But even the Jeju Intranet has gone completely silent.
Click-clack—click-clack—
Expressionless, I surfed the digital world.
Viva! Apocalypse! and the Red Archive boards.
Both continued their usual chatter.
Viva! Apocalypse! was buzzing with talk of Seoul’s reconstruction, while the Red Archive had posts about newly updated patches.
Nowhere could I find anything about the Rift.
Days of this sa frustration must’ve been written all over my face.
“...”
I have a rough idea of what to do.
If Jeju won’t release the information, then we’ll just have to poke their intranet from this side.
As you know, Jeju’s intranet security isn’t exactly top-tier.
The issue is the thod.
With Ballantine gone, I no longer have a way to access the confidential folders in the Jeju Intranet.
Weak security may an nothing to a pro like Ballantine—but for a layman like , it’s irrelevant.
All I can do is use the backdoor Ballantine prepared while alive, to usher in users from Necropolis and expand our numbers.
But if I attack the Red Archive board now, all I’ll do is raise Jeju’s security protocols.
Ballantine did leave a kind manual full of annotations and procedures in case he died—but unfortunately, it’s all Greek to .
I need a person.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
Deadman1832 (KOR): Anyone in the tro area know hacking or backdoors? If so, please reply (examples and notes included, generous compensation offered).
Dr.Emiless: Anyone in the tro area know hacking or backdoors? If so, please reply (examples and notes included, generous compensation offered).
I searched both Necropolis and Viva! Apocalypse! for soone knowledgeable in hacking.
A few users responded to my offer:
Deadman885: I used to be a white-hat hacker. Won awards in competitions. But I’ve got a party with —two won, one man, and a child. Looks like they’re Viva users. You got a bunker?
Deadman13314: Where’s your location? I want to see your equipnt first. Oh, and how many people are with you?
As you can see—scamrs looking for a place to stay.
Or maybe raiders planning to kill and steal my shelter.
“...”
I let out a sigh and leaned back in my chair.
Truth is, there’s a textbook solution.
On our board, there’s soone skilled in programming and knowledgeable in IT and networks.
The problem is... that guy’s kind of a pain.
It’s understandable. It’d be a disgrace if the noble Ballantine’s replacent turned out to be a scumbag like FoxGa.
The silver lining is—recently, FoxGa and I have at least partially reconciled.
I don’t know what he’s really thinking, but it’s clear FoxGa wants to patch things up.
Sa goes for the Blackie incident.
I don’t even know if that mutant dog is still alive.
But dragging this out any longer won’t help—and I doubt I’ll find soone better elsewhere.
“...”
Tap tap tap
I ended up sending a ssage to FoxGa.
SKELTON: How’s Blackie doing?
I figured he was already dead.
The reason we even did a group purchase of rat poison all the way from South Arica was because, unlike the weaker local stuff, that batch was guaranteed to work.
Once war breaks out, ecosystem damage or whatever becos secondary—the bigger problem is having our precious food supply get eaten by rats.
Mutation or not, resistance to poison doesn’t magically increase.
It all cos down to body and organ size, and how that scales with lethal dosage.
If FoxGa used the poison properly, Blackie should be dead by now.
ssage from FoxGa: Oh! Skelton!
Here we go.
ssage from FoxGa: He’s alive! I did a stomach pump and gave him the vitamin K tablets like you said. He’s slowly getting better. He even understands what I say now and can swallow food just fine.
He’s alive?
Almost like he wanted to prove it, FoxGa sent a picture.
ssage from FoxGa: (photo)
“......”
If it’s not doctored, then that mutant dog really is still alive.
Honestly? I was surprised.
Never mind the effort required to save a mutated dog—what really shocked was that he had the supplies needed to administer proper treatnt.
Well, to be fair... this guy does have money.
His bunker cost more than mine.
Anyway, the fact that the dog survived made think this conversation might go smoother than expected.
SKELTON: I need a favor.
ssage from FoxGa: A favor? What kind of favor? If it’s from you, Skelton, of course I’ll help. I an, I’m just so old, sick guy, so I’m not sure what I can do, but what is it?
I don’t want to owe this guy.
I can already see it—he’ll use this as an excuse to act all buddy-buddy again.
Then he’ll ask for favors of his own.
But let’s be honest, the alternative isn’t worth the ti and effort. If there is another way, I haven’t found it.
As much as it bugs , asking FoxGa for help is the smart move.
SKELTON: Do you know anything about hacking?
ssage from FoxGa: Hacking?
ssage from FoxGa: Haven’t done it since I hacked my professor’s computer in grad school.
SKELTON: The guy before left behind a reference guide.
ssage from FoxGa: Really? Send it over, let take a look.
I sent him the file.
A little while later, he replied.
ssage from FoxGa: Hmm...
SKELTON: Too hard?
ssage from FoxGa: Nah, the annotations are so thorough it’d be weird not to understand it :) Who made this?
SKELTON: A good friend. He’s gone to a better place now.
ssage from FoxGa: Sorry to hear that. Anyway, if the security level hasn’t changed since this example was written, I should be able to pull it off. But hey—
ssage from FoxGa: Jeju?
This is why I didn’t want to ask him.
Giving him this job...
But sotis, life moves in unexpected ways.
ssage from FoxGa: (FoxGa interest) Huh. This could actually be pretty rewarding.
FoxGa was intrigued.
Not surprising. He’s just as starved for attention as I am.
Right on cue—
ssage from FoxGa: But hey, is it okay to share this later? Not now, but like... if things go well, maybe? :)
His desires were transparent to the point of absurdity.
“......”
Tap tap tap
SKELTON: OK.
Honestly, that works in my favor.
At least I’m not the one seeking attention in this case.
*
There’s sothing Da-jeong said once while she was still with us.
“You know,”
Internet guru Hong Da-jeong was also deeply knowledgeable about emoticons.
“There’s a difference in how people use emoticons.”
For example, sothing like “^^” might feel a bit outdated, but it’s still considered generally inoffensive.
Paid emoticons provided by ssaging apps like XXTalk are common and treated as normal.
The character-based image emoticons often used on boards like Red Archive are more popular among otaku, and people addicted to them.
But the worst of all?
It’s not the otaku emoticons from Red Archive.
“The ones who use this series? 100% guaranteed to be shady.”
She ant the “:)” series.
Her internet instincts were disturbingly accurate.
FoxGa: :)
Why is that bad?
Here’s how Hong Da-jeong explained it:
“It’s always those middle-aged guys trying to act like they’re not that old. They use that. Every one of them is delusional, clinging to so warped idea of being cool. I avoid anyone who uses that, no exceptions.”
Anyway, I installed “FoxTalk,” a ssaging app that FoxGa himself created for close communication.
After tanking a ga launch and selling pity stories about his dog, he still couldn’t reclaim his honor as a developer. So he spent his spare ti building it.
To , it looks exactly like those washed-up ssenger apps from before the war.
I’m guessing he stole the source code from sowhere.
Still, it’s good that this middle-aged man who uses Hong Da-jeong’s most-hated emoticon is at least enthusiastic.
FoxGa: Tried accessing through the thod left behind by Ballantine—it's just like the annotations said. Like walking through an automatic door.
FoxGa: Did they hire Jeju engineers purely through connections? Man~. If I were the interviewer, I would’ve had them bawling on the spot. Seriously. I wonder what school they even went to :/
SKELTON: So how long do you think it’ll take?
FoxGa: One sec. Blackie wants sothing. BRB.
FoxGa: Back at the desk! :)
FoxGa: Even with all the nepotism, the confidential folders are reasonably well-protected. Probably set up by the guys who built the SI. Ballantine’s tools can break through, but like his notes said, there’s a risk. Not a big one, but in this line of work, one mistake and you don’t get a second shot.
SKELTON: That so? Is there another way?
FoxGa: Looks like they still try to put on a show for their superiors. According to the logs, they do regular maintenance checks once a month.
FoxGa: Totally useless patch files, of course—just for show. lol
FoxGa: I’m planning to make the attempt around one of those checkups.
SKELTON: (Skelton smile) Yeah?
FoxGa: But hey, you never know with people. Even salary thieves suddenly have days where they work hard for no reason. The logs show the security guy’s on 24/7 monitoring duty. That’s what worries . :/
SKELTON: In that case, I’ll try stirring things up from this side.
FoxGa: ?
FoxGa: How?
“......”
Tap tap tap
SKELTON: (Skelton ㅇㅅㅇ) I’ve got a way.
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