“I an it. I don’t even know how many tis I replayed that video. It still frustrates . Of all tis, why did the Jeokgodan guys have to pick a fight then? I missed that legendary live broadcast because of them. The version uploaded now is just an edited one, right? I really wanted to see every bit of it with my own eyes—the whole process leading up to the battle. But out here, every single day is a struggle. No one’s interested, no one even cares...”
Now I think I understand, even if just a little, why Kang Han-min was wary of .
There was a fan of Skelton in a place I hadn’t even considered.
And not just one.
Skelton’s influence had reached places I never imagined.
“The monster response unit is always the least popular, you know? Unless it's shelling, there’s really no other tactic that works. There were a few others who fought alongside , but can anyone survive every ti? I almost died too. Volunteers are drying up, erosion’s getting worse, and right when things were falling apart, Skelton’s video dropped. Do you know what happened then?”
Nationwide Hunter-ization.
Just like Skelton.
That was the positive ripple effect of the legendary livestream.
Monsters, once feared and avoided, beca the most prized targets, and the younger generation were now eager to risk their lives hunting them down.
“...”
I didn’t show it outwardly, but for the first ti in a long while—borrowing the words of my eternal role model, John Nae-non—I felt a kind of cosmic buoyancy, like a tight pull around the rim of my asshole.
It was in that lingering buoyancy ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) that I t Sim Yu-gyeong, the leader of a warlord faction.
Sim Yu-gyeong was stationed in a small military camp set up inside an abandoned clan village.
They had everything they needed, but just behind the village was a paved and well-maintained road—making it obvious that what I was seeing was only a fraction of their true capacity.
Sim Yu-gyeong waited for inside an elegant hanok with a traditional Korean open wooden floor and high eaves, dressed in a hanbok.
Only, the hanbok was more of a modernized version than a traditional one, which imdiately gave a bad feeling.
The strange goatee and his stubby ponytail didn’t help the first impression either.
“A pleasure to et you.”
The warlord leader greeted with a hearty laugh.
“I can’t believe the legendary Professor has co to a dump like this. I was hoping Director Woo Min-hee would co, but having the Professor instead is a godsend.”
His behavior matched his looks—both rubbed the wrong way.
The constant sidelong glances trying to scan , the sharp tone testing with every word, and the awkward, half-standing posture when I arrived.
Still, anyone leading a group in this era had to et so minimum qualifications.
Sim Yu-gyeong soon demonstrated them.
From inside the hanok, people who seed to be his wife and children appeared.
The young man who looked just like him had the sa goatee around his chin.
“Hee-woong, this is Skelleton. He was called a legend among the Old School Hunters.”
“Aw, Dad! It’s Skelton, not Skelleton!”
“Eh, close enough. Either way, co say hi. You’ve been singing about wanting to et him, rember?”
You could tell at a glance it was a close-knit family.
Even the word “warmth” ca to mind in just that short mont.
A rare sight in this apocalyptic age.
And not just that.
All throughout the old village, won and children were moving about freely.
There was still the typical undercurrent of tension, but overall they seed content with their situation.
That kind of tight-knit, family-based bond might be the reason Sim Yu-gyeong’s faction had survived this long.
Unintentionally, Dies Irae’s emotionless face flashed across my mind.
That guy had said sothing similar once.
That for a group to last, it needed so kind of foundational anchor.
I wonder what he’s doing now.
I haven’t heard from him in forever.
Is he still playing those twisted group survival gas?
Who knows.
If anyone could keep a group going even after New Seoul falls, it’d be that bastard.
“...”
Maybe, in the final stretch of this post-apocalyptic world, the real enemy I’ll face is him.
Even I, Park Gyu, might eventually get swept into this survival ga—the fate assigned by Earth to all living things.
“You’re Commander Park Gyu, right? Here, have a bite. It’s yugwa. Fried with canola oil.”
As Sim Yu-gyeong nibbled on the snacks his wife had prepared, he gave a brief overview of the situation.
“This area used to be controlled by a powerful group called Jeokgodan. But suddenly, they all left for Shangri-La in the south. Probably aiming for A7. They can get massive power output from the nuclear plant there.”
Sim Yu-gyeong’s group were the stones that rolled in after.
Once Jeokgodan left, they took over the now-empty base—but they weren’t the only ones with that idea.
The smaller groups that had been cowering under Jeokgodan’s influence all surged toward Shangri-La, kicking off a full-blown survival war.
“With chemical fuel completely dried up, electricity’s all humanity has left. They’re trying to retrofit electric motors into nearly every internal combustion vehicle. Even tanks run on electric motors now. Reliability? That’s gone to the dogs. But what choice do we have? No fuel. It’s not like we can run our vehicles on charcoal like the North Koreans, right?”
To get the upper hand over their competition, Sim Yu-gyeong’s group had to secure a power source—specifically, a hydroelectric plant.
The problem was that the plant lay outside Shangri-La.
That is, it was in the Erosion Zone.
That’s probably the biggest reason Jeokgodan abandoned Shangri-La—even if it wasn’t officially verified.
“The dam area is completely overrun with monsters.”
The Erosion Zone isn’t just a sickening, maddening wasteland—it also protects monsters from natural decay.
They’re not completely invulnerable, but in the Erosion Zone, dium-class non-infiltrators can survive hundreds of tis longer than outside it.
Sure enough, the photos Sim Yu-gyeong showed featured a wide array of dium-class monsters crowding around the dam.
Even just at a glance, there were Annihilator-types, Caterpract-types, and even Praetorian-types. All of them a nightmare to deal with.
Not visible in the photos, but judging by the surrounding zombie outbreak, there were probably also swarms of small-type Necromancer variants securing the inner transforr facilities.
No doubt about it.
Jeokgodan had realized they couldn’t dislodge the monsters from the dam and gave up.
“How did it even co to this? I an, it’s the Erosion Zone, sure, but there’s gotta be plenty of other places to go. Why do monsters always zero in on key strategic sites like they’re getting orders from so human beyond the Rift?”
Sim Yu-gyeong’s theory was interesting, but wrong.
The remnants of battle, spent shells, and collapsed buildings all explained what had really happened.
I looked at Sim Yu-gyeong and Jeon Eun-ha.
“There are signs of battle. Probably from fights between Jeokgodan and the monsters, right?”
Let reconstruct this based on my personal experience and the data I’ve gathered from collapsed nations.
That dam was the core zone of Jeokgodan—a powerful survivor faction.
They must have defended it with their lives, monsters or not.
And I’m sure they killed quite a few.
There must have been casualties, but compared to the promise of infinite, high-capacity power, it would have seed like nothing.
The thing is, monsters release particles when they die.
We still don’t fully understand what those particles are, but many scholars support the theory that their beautiful scattering acts as a pheromone calling more monsters.
So every ti Jeokgodan killed one, they were, in essence, ringing a dinner bell.
And eventually, they realized it.
The true nature of the Rift of Infinity.
That’s the story I’ve pieced together.
Not that the past matters much.
And the future won’t matter either.
Only the present does.
We drive the monsters out.
If we do that, Sim Yu-gyeong will gladly open a path for us.
Whether a new horde takes over the dam afterward is no longer our concern.
I asked for specifics.
“Do you see a way forward?”
Sim Yu-gyeng looked at , gauging my reaction.
It wouldn’t be easy.
In fact, it would be extrely difficult.
At least three dium-class monsters, and one of them was a Praetorian type—the kind that’s only really vulnerable to bombardnt.
The problem is they’re dug in right in front of the dam, making bombardnt risky.
Damage the dam, and the whole point is moot.
No wonder they originally asked for Woo Min-hee.
“...Even for you, Skelton, this might be too much to handle, right?”
Jeon Eun-ha asked cautiously.
Even as a loyal fan, she had hard-earned battlefield experience from the war.
She could see this wasn’t just so routine sweep.
If this were back in China, I would’ve rejected this mission outright.
As I silently stared at the map and intel board, Jeon Eun-ha spoke again.
“There was one Awakened in Jeokgodan. A real monster. Better in combat and marksmanship than most Old School Hunters. But even that person abandoned the dam. That’s how hopeless it is.”
Then, without thinking, a na popped into my head.
“Prophet?”
Jeon Eun-ha’s eyes widened.
“Oh? You know him?!”
There was a strange spark in her gaze.
Bad feeling.
Honestly, I thought of her as quiet and lancholic at first—but ever since the na Skelton ca up, she’s been visibly, unnaturally excited.
It’s a familiar look. The kind you see in people who can’t separate the internet from real life.
And sure enough—
“Soup Wars!”
She blurted it out with zero context.
“What the hell is Soup Wars?”
Sim Yu-gyeong blinked in confusion, but I ignored him and pressed Jeon Eun-ha.
“...I don’t know what Soup Wars is. But I did hear from soone close that Prophet made a strong impression in combat. And you’re saying that Awakened was from Jeokgodan?”
Jeon Eun-ha looked slightly disappointed that I didn’t acknowledge her reference, but she quickly refocused and answered diligently, clearly honored to be speaking to Skelton.
“Yes. I think so. He never spoke, so I can’t be totally sure, but based on what little slips out and his surroundings, he’s definitely from around here. One of the videos was even fild inside that substation over there.”
Unexpectedly, I’d gotten so background info on Prophet.
But that’s not the priority right now.
The priority is the threat in front of us.
Monsters.
Sim Yu-gyeong, who had been quietly watching , tested the waters.
“Think you can do it without Director Woo?”
He still wanted Woo Min-hee.
And to be fair, in a situation this tangled, she was probably the only viable trump card.
But I wasn’t going to hand her over.
I stared at Sim Yu-gyeong and nodded.
“Yes. We’ll try. But before that, I have a question.”
“What kind...?”
“Do you know Colonel Jeong Dae-kyung?”
Sim Yu-gyeong nodded.
“One of the Big Three. He’s the one controlling the power plant area right now.”
That might be an answer for soone—but not for .
I asked again.
“Is that man really Colonel Jeong Dae-kyung? The one who held the Paju Rift and was promoted to brigadier before heading to Jeju?”
Only then did Sim Yu-gyeong understand what I was really asking. He fell silent.
“...You know him, then?”
I nodded.
“We were in Paju together.”
Sim Yu-gyeong sighed.
The vague look in his eyes told he wouldn’t be able to give the answer I wanted.
In that silence, he continued.
“I don’t know the details. I an, I’ve heard the na, sure. He rose through the ranks fast. But I do know he was married and had a son and daughter. His daughter was into music, and the son went abroad to study, in Singapore, I think.”
“You’ve never seen his face?”
“It’s embarrassing, but yeah. Back then, what mattered more to us soldiers—scraping by on low pay and always at risk of being fired—was the fact that he could afford to invest in his kids. That was the real headline.”
“I see.”
“I see.”
“There’s a man now in Gyeongju, claiming to be Director Jeong Dae-kyung. He also has a wife, a son, and a daughter. And from what I’ve heard...”
Sim Yu-gyeong locked eyes with .
“The son ca back from abroad, and the daughter went to music school for violin.”
He added:
“...It’s probably the sa man you saw in Paju.”
No.
It can’t be.
Jeong Dae-kyung and Lee Haeng-taek are not the sa person.
Most importantly, Jeong Dae-kyung was in Jeju.
Even if he brought his ex-wife there, the whole family would’ve been in Jeju.
He vanished without a trace, and Lee Haeng-taek—wearing Jeong Dae-kyung’s skin—also disappeared inside the Jeju Rift.
So where did this “family” co from?
It’s horrifying, but in that mont I rembered what Jeong Dae-kyung once told he wished for.
That day, Colonel Jeong Dae-kyung wished for his family’s happiness.
“They say he’s living like royalty now.”
Sim Yu-gyeong said.
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