Hiding a House in the Apocalypse Chapter 34

I prepared the wild boar that Gold had brought over.

After gutting it and draining its blood, I placed it in the freezer. Aside from the boar, I also had one more boar, two deer, and two chickens. The chickens were for , and the deer at wasn’t of good enough quality to serve to guests. I decided to butcher one of the sows instead.

It was my first ti breaking down at like this.

I played a video tutorial and mimicked the process. It didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped—skinning the hide was far harder than I expected. But as I worked steadily, the boar gradually began to resemble the cuts of at you’d see in a butcher shop.

I sniffed the at.

Not exactly appetizing. There was a distinct gay sll.

They say that ribs are the most palatable part of a wild boar. I divided the ribs into three large portions. One for the Defender siblings, another for the Sniper and her daughter, and the last one for myself.

It reminded of my ti in China.

There, a house pig escaped from its pen, and one of my comrades managed to catch it. Along with so locals, we skillfully butchered the pig and held a small pork feast.

Back then, it seed like there was still hope for China.

Even as the northern regions were being eroded, an overwhelming supply of resources continued to flow from the rear lines. Along with it ca an unending stream of manpower, enough to densely fill every front line.

I’d heard that they trained a thousand new Hunters every month.

For perspective, back in Korea, we struggled to graduate a thousand Hunters in an entire year. Yet, they managed to produce that many in re weeks.

To be fair, the quality of their training wasn’t great, but that didn’t matter much. Even rookies, with just the bare minimum of preparation, quickly beca veterans in the life-and-death battles that raged on the front lines.

In truth, those Hunters managed to drive out monstrous hordes from an entire tropolitan area and reclaim the eroded lands.

It was, without a doubt, humanity’s greatest victory against the monsters.

The Chinese proudly declared that humanity, having already conquered nature, would soon overco the monsters too—with the Chinese at the forefront of that triumph.

But in the end, destruction was inevitable.

From beyond the fissures, I had seen it.

A despair called "Infinity."

*

Pioneers have beco a part of daily life.

If you keep your radio on long enough, you’ll hear all sorts of chatter from the Pioneers—pleas for help, silly jokes, gossip about others, and nostalgic ramblings about better days.

I couldn’t say for sure what had beco of the Pioneers holding out in the north, nor did I need to. Other groups of Pioneers were already pushing through the roads they once defended, heading south.

One thing did worry , though: most of them seed to know about the Sniper and her daughter.

I’d overheard them warning each other multiple tis: “Don’t go near that village—there’s a forr U.S. soldier stationed there.”

For now, it worked in the Sniper’s favor, keeping intruders at bay. But in the long run, this kind of attention could attract more dangerous enemies, the kind who might challenge her territory. Soone like Jo Sung-yong’s gang.

Jo Sung-yong and his crew hadn’t been spotted in a while, but I had no doubt they were still out there. Scumbags like him have a knack for surviving in tis like these. He’s probably terrorizing so other poor souls right now.

With Pioneer chatter filling the radio, I pedaled my bike westward.

The barren wasteland stretched out before , pockmarked with craters left by missile strikes. This was where Chinese warships once dominated the West Sea, raining hellfire upon the land.

At the edge of this scarred wasteland stood the Defenders' new ho, precariously perched on a corner of the ruins.

As I approached, I spoke into the radio.

“I’m here.”

Two figures erged from the rubble—a young man and woman.

“Suh-seobang!”

The Defender and his sister waved at with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“Stop calling that.”

“Right? He’s so impatient, calling you that before the formal introduction.”

“What introduction? Neither of you even has parents left to introduce to.”

The sister squinted at the crate I was carrying.

“What’s that?”

“This?” I couldn’t help but grin as pride welled up inside .

It was wild boar ribs, butchered with my own hands—the choicest cut of at.

“What kind of at is it?”

The Defender leaned in and sniffed. “Pork? Slls amazing.”

“Wild boar.”

“Wild boar? Suh-seobang, you’re a hunter too?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that. Let’s just say… circumstances led to it.”

No point in explaining that a mutant dog brought it to —they wouldn’t believe it anyway.

“I’ve never been much of a hunter myself,” the Defender admitted.

“That’s surprising.”

“Human hunting and animal hunting are two entirely different things.”

I glanced around. “How’s the new house? Livable?”

The ruins of other abandoned hos stood nearby, their skeletal remains devoid of life. This place had been deserted long ago, untouched by human hands since.

“Wanna check it out? You’re here for the housewarming, after all.”

“Housewarming? In this apocalypse? I’m just here to check on you.”

“Co on, take a look.”

“Fine.”

Visiting soone’s ho during the apocalypse wasn’t exactly the safest activity, but the Defender siblings were trustworthy friends.

“When was the last ti I visited a friend’s house?” I wondered aloud.

Probably back when I went to Lee Sang-hoon’s place. Not that we were close—far from it. I’d only been invited because Sang-hoon’s mother, eager to flaunt her son’s status, included among his friends for so reason. Likely because my grades were better than his.

It was a glimpse into the luxurious life of Seoul’s upper class, filled with objects I didn’t recognize and things I instinctively knew I could never have.

I wasn’t envious, though. My seething hatred burned too hot for jealousy or self-pity.

The Defender’s underground casino was as extravagant as Lee Sang-hoon’s ho had been, if not more so. Marble floors with swirling patterns, gleaming furniture, and elegant decor—all preserved remarkably well despite the apocalyptic setting.

“What is this place?”

“Told you—it’s a casino.”

The Defender spun a roulette wheel for emphasis.

“It doesn’t look very practical for survival.”

We explored the underground casino together. It was massive, complete with massage chairs, sleeping quarters, and showers. The water even worked, though it reeked of chlorine.

“I almost called you to help clean the water tanks,” the Defender teased.

“Good thing you didn’t.”

“I figured as much.”

As I took in the lavish surroundings, I couldn’t help but think: so much money had gone into building this place. Enough to double the size of my bunker.

And yet, what was the point?

All that effort and wealth, abandoned to decay.

“Ti for to head back.”

“What, you’re not staying for dinner? We’ve got at.”

“Pioneers are everywhere. Better not linger.”

“At least have so tea before you go.”

The Defender’s sister appeared, holding a teacup and can of high-quality tea. Likely loot from the casino.

“Fine, one cup.”

We set up a small tea table under the starry night sky, with three camping chairs around it.

The Defender’s sister brewed the tea, its rich aroma filling the air. It was leagues above the lemon tea I kept in my bunker.

I took a sip.

I couldn’t really appreciate the flavor—tea’s supposed to be about the aroma, right? Still, its warmth spread through , pushing back the cold grip of the apocalypse, if only for a mont.

For a while, none of us spoke. We simply savored the tea in silence.

Then, the Defender broke the quiet.

“When this is all over,” he began, staring at the distant lights of the Pioneers' fires, “what will you do?”

"I want to visit New York."

"New York?"

At my question, Da-jeong, the Defender’s sister, nodded. Her voice, louder and more confident than usual, carried her thoughts directly to .

"I’ve never traveled abroad before."

"New York, huh."

The Defender cradled his teacup in both hands, a peculiar smile spreading across his face.

"I want to build a house."

"A house?"

"Yeah, when I was a kid, my dad and I dread of buying so land out in the scenic countryside and building a house. It’d have a gabled roof, Spanish-style skylights, a maze-like garden, and Greek-style columns."

"I can’t picture it," I admitted.

The siblings shared a laugh, covering their mouths as if they shared an inside joke.

Watching the harmonious pair, I swirled the tea in my cup and drifted into thought.

The future.

For , there is no future.

The only question is how much longer I can manage to live. That’s the extent of my choices.

But they’re different.

Despite living through the sa grim tis, witnessing death and sorrow just as I have, they still carry hopes and dreams in their hearts.

When I see sothing in others that I lack, it makes reflect on myself.

"Suh-seobang," the Defender called out to .

"Don’t you have sothing you want to do?"

"Well..."

I hesitated, embarrassed to admit the truth. Saying that my sole goal was to live longer than most and die last felt too bleak.

"Darling," Da-jeong chid in, piling on the pressure.

Caught in their gaze, I felt compelled to co up with sothing—anything—that could pass for a goal. Finally, I settled on a long-forgotten thought, improvising as I went.

"...I think I’ll write a journal."

"A journal? You could start that right now," the Defender pointed out.

"I haven’t started yet."

"Then when will you?" Da-jeong asked this ti.

I tilted my head back, staring at the twinkling stars.

I rembered hearing once that starlight takes thousands, even millions of years to reach Earth.

Could humans ever be as eternal as the stars?

"When the world becos quiet, when everything turns gray. When everyone is gone, and it’s just left on the forum... That’s when I’ll start."

I want to be eternal.

"I’ll docunt each day as it cos."

"In writing?"

"No, on a computer. I’ll print it out before I die and leave it by my bedside. Maybe soday, aliens or so mutant species that replaces humanity will find it. They’ll read my records and think, Ah, this is what the last human thought as they spent their final days."

As I finished, I noticed the siblings staring at with dumbfounded expressions.

"Skelton," the Defender said, his tone serious.

"You’re definitely... a little different from us."

"...Yeah," I muttered.

Am I not even "Suh-seobang" anymore?

"That’s pretty bleak," Da-jeong added.

"But it’s got a certain romantic charm," the Defender admitted. "Even if the alien part was a bit much."

The Defender stood, gathering the teacups and teapot.

"Still, if you’re going to write a journal, why not make it more hopeful?"

Hope.

There’s no such thing in this world.

In a world with a predetermined end, what good is hope?

Without thinking, I responded impulsively.

"There’s no hope in this world. Everyone is destined to die."

The mont I said it, I regretted it. But the words were already out.

What could I do? This is the reality we live in.

Da-jeong’s expression shifted.

She stared at intently before speaking bluntly.

"Even that guy, m9, lives more positively than you."

"What?"

Did I hear that right?

m9?

No way.

How could she compare to him?

Besides, wasn’t he frozen to death last winter?

"m9? Didn’t he die?"

I was 99% sure he froze to death.

"He’s alive."

Da-jeong shoved her tablet in my face.

Displayed on the screen was a post on PaleNet. The accompanying photo showed a dilapidated apartnt, its windows shattered and its structure leaning precariously.

In the image, a man stood inside, a rope tied around his waist as he risked his life hanging up laundry.

No doubt about it.

That pathetic silhouette was our old forum companion, m9.

"Even he’s fighting hard to survive..."

As I stared at the screen in shock, fragnts of m9’s old posts resurfaced in my mind:

mmmmmmmmm: Look at this! Behold the majesty of my royal view!

Not everyone succumbs to despair.

Even in this wretched apocalypse, so still fight against the enemy called despair with everything they’ve got.

"...Even if he dies tomorrow, it’s all about the view, huh?"

The world is vast.

I suppose I should reflect a little.

After the tea party, just as I was about to leave, the Defender approached .

"Hey, Skelton."

"What? Am I not 'Suh-seobang' anymore?"

"I’ve changed my mind."

"...About what?"

"You know about the school, right? They’re tearing it down."

"They’re demolishing the school?"

"And holding the principal’s funeral at the sa ti."

"The principal?"

The sa man who had given the callsign Professor.