Hiding a House in the Apocalypse Chapter 35.1

I rember the first ti I arrived at the school.

So new students were there with their parents and siblings, taking photos, laughing, chatting about the future. I, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, sat alone in a shadowy, secluded spot.

Soone else was already there.

A boy, radiating the sa loneliness as .

Another new student, perhaps?

"What’s your na?" I asked first.

I wasn’t particularly outgoing, but the boy sitting next to seed so timid and forlorn that I couldn’t help myself.

He glanced at with frightened eyes, barely making eye contact, before quickly looking away. His voice, barely more than a whisper, revealed his na.

"...Kang Han-min."

Perhaps I found his timidness intriguing, or maybe it was a boyish sense of superiority. Either way, for a mont, I forgot the miserable reality surrounding and smiled at him.

"That’s a strong na. I’m Park Gyu. Park is my last na, and Gyu is my first."

And so, my first connection at the school was made.

Despite his strong na, Kang Han-min was neither resilient in spirit nor remarkable in physique or skill.

At first, I tried to help him. But perhaps it was the school’s deeply ingrained Spartan culture; no matter how much I tried, he didn’t improve. Eventually, I gave up on him.

Maybe my ntor’s teachings had already begun shaping my young mind.

"People make mistakes because no one is perfect. However, we hunters cannot afford to make mistakes. Our enemy is not human. To confront sothing beyond human, we must shed a part of our insignificant humanity."

Jang Ki-young was a first-generation hunter, a forr soldier, and a man with the title of hero.

Many students aspired to be his disciples, drawn by his fa. But Jang Ki-young was a difficult, irritable instructor.

He demanded perfection—an impossible virtue for humans to achieve.

Grueling training, excessive criticism—those were the basics. For students he deed subpar, he would use any ans necessary to drive them out of the school.

"Kang Han-min, you again?"

"Kang Han-min, aren’t you ashad? Because of you, your team and classmates are penalized."

"Kang Han-min!"

Kang Han-min beca a constant target of Jang Ki-young’s ire.

In Jang’s eyes, Kang Han-min was defective—a person who should never bear the label of hunter.

Finally, Jang gave him an ultimatum in front of everyone.

"Kang Han-min, you’re not needed in my class. If you have any conscience, any decency, walk out on your own."

Kang Han-min didn’t leave.

Surprisingly, he was more stubborn than he seed.

Maybe he hated monsters as much as I did.

Jang’s harassnt and criticisms grew harsher, but Kang Han-min endured, clinging on until the grades rolled over.

I can’t forget Jang Ki-young’s face or his words when Kang Han-min barely passed the final test.

It was during the exam when Kang Han-min executed a feint attack on a necromancer-type hologram, breached its barrier range, and bisected it with a high-caliber shotgun.

Jang, who had been nervously crossing his arms, shook his head and muttered, "That kid will ruin us one day. Mark my words!"

It’s doubtful Jang Ki-young had the gift of foresight.

If he did, he couldn’t even predict his own fate.

Years later, during my ti in China, when I was busy gathering data while navigating the governnt’s watchful eye, Woo Min-hee—who, at the ti, was still in good shape—abruptly handed a scatter slug from a high-caliber shotgun.

"Did you hear about Jang Ki-young?" she asked out of the blue.

"What about him?"

"His record is total BS. The guys who fought alongside him spilled the beans. Apparently, Jang Ki-young didn’t fight monsters with an axe. He curled up on the ground, sobbing, and buried his head like an ostrich."

Jang Ki-young had always been cruel to Kang Han-min because he was a hero—or so he claid.

His so-called heroism gave him the right to berate others, to belittle them, to dismiss them without remorse.

Even the axe I used as my primary lee weapon owed so of its fa to Jang Ki-young’s legendary stories.

According to the now half-mythical tale, when a rift opened near Gochang County in North Jeolla Province, Jang and his troops confronted the monsters to protect the citizens.

Faced with a monster that could reflect bullets, soldiers were slaughtered. To make matters worse, fallen soldiers rose as undead, attacking their comrades.

The defense force was annihilated within monts. When two tanks were destroyed by the monster’s reflective barrier, the survivors fled in terror.

Amidst the chaos, Captain Jang Ki-young made a bold decision:

He abandoned his firearm, feigned death, and waited for the monster to approach.

With an axe conveniently within reach, he bided his ti, his eyes fixed on the weapon.

When the monster got close, Jang sprang to life, wielding the axe with superhuman strength to "fell" the beast.

This was the beginning of Jang Ki-young’s legendary tale.

The dia spread his story far and wide, and no one questioned it.

Jang had a polished resu: a military elite who excelled in the grueling North Arican special forces training and reportedly knocked out a 6'7" black soldier in a bar fight.

More importantly, when reinforcents arrived, the monsters were gone.

All that remained were Jang Ki-young and the zombies he’d slain with his axe.

Even as reinforcents watched, Jang dispatched two more zombies with his axe.

Under such circumstances, who could doubt his heroism?

Later, when I first heard Woo Min-hee’s revelations, I dismissed them as her usual rants, extending her ire to distant ntors. After all, like Kang Han-min, Woo Min-hee had never been a favorite of Jang Ki-young.

Still, her words stayed with .

"Monsters probably didn’t attack him because he did nothing. You know how monsters react to hostility. Didn’t you feel it, senior? Guess you’re different from ."

I thought she was simply extending her usual grumbling—typically directed at our peers and the Chinese—toward a distant ntor. After all, like Kang Han-min, Woo Min-hee was also one of Jang Ki-young’s least favorite students.

In contrast, I, along with Kim Daram, was one of his prized pupils.

In public, Jang Ki-young often spoke more highly of Kim Daram than of . But that was likely because she had achieved the highest level a "normal" person could possibly attain. However, in his heart, it was clear that he regarded , Park Gyu, as his true persona—his rightful successor.

"Yes, that's the way. Swing the axe like that."

When it ca to combat against monsters equipped with reflective barriers, the traditional weapon of choice was a high-explosive grenade.

Grenades were far superior to axes in terms of destructive power, ease of use, and safety. However, the monsters eventually devised their own counterasures, developing a new ability to detonate human explosive weaponry during close combat.

This new power, called "Detonation," claid the lives of many hunters. So were maid, with their fingers blown off or their chests punctured; others were so disfigured that their bodies were unrecognizable.

In response, humanity developed weapons using a "separated propellant" system—explosives that only beca volatile right before detonation. However, even these weren’t immune to Detonation. Monsters began timing their attacks to disrupt the mont the separated components fused and beca explosive.

The resulting arms race led to the developnt of hunter-specific equipnt, featuring faster ignition, greater explosive power, and improved usability. Yet, amid this chaos, traditional lee weapons—unburdened by these tactical gas—retained their utility.

Jang Ki-young was a fierce advocate for lee weapons, particularly the axe, which had cented his status as a hero.

"The axe is the ultimate weapon. Just like it was for , 15 years ago."

From him, I learned everything.

Although he was a cold, exacting, and temperantal instructor, I cannot deny that his vast knowledge and unparalleled skill shaped the person I am today.

However, his insistence on using axes in close combat puzzled .

There were so many better weapons available—why the axe?

Of all the techniques he taught , his axe-handling thods seed the most flawed. So were so impractical they felt like fanciful inventions rather than serious combat techniques, almost acrobatic in nature.

Through real-world experience, I ca to realize that his axe techniques weren’t particularly effective against monsters.

Jang Ki-young had envisioned monsters as hyper-agile, relentless attackers during close combat. Yet, the monsters I encountered bore more resemblance to moving trees than to agile predators.

When news spread that I had felled my first monster with an axe, the first person to contact was Jang Ki-young.

"So, Park Gyu. How was it? My techniques? Was the close-combat axe strategy effective?"

At the ti, I was utterly exhausted. I had just survived a battle where many of my comrades had died, and I was due to et with Chinese investigators. I responded halfheartedly.

"It was... effective, I suppose."

Jang Ki-young seed genuinely pleased.

The last ti I saw him was after the era of Old-School Hunters had passed, and he had stepped down amidst scandals over his questionable actions.

The forr hero was living in a cramped, dilapidated apartnt.

If he had simply retired from his role as headmaster, he could have kept his wealth. But he had fought nurous legal battles, becoming entangled in countless lawsuits—both as a plaintiff and a defendant. Like many embroiled in endless litigation, he was no longer financially secure.

He had a wife and children once, but judging by the complete lack of evidence of their presence in the tiny apartnt, it seed he had been as harsh to them as he had been to his students.

"Ah, Park Gyu. Co in. It’s not much, but I can at least offer you a cup of coffee."

There was only one chair at his dining table, so he had to drag over the chair from his desk.

While he made coffee, my eyes drifted to his computer screen.

A word processor was open, filled with lines of text. From where I stood, I couldn’t discern what he was writing. However, one detail on the screen was unmistakable:

[Windows Activation Required]

[Go to Settings to activate your copy of Windows.]

"…I see."

Jang Ki-young brought over the coffee, placing it carefully on the table.

"So, what do you think? Was my technique effective?"

I hesitated.

Should I tell him the truth? Or offer so comforting words to ease the heart of my old ntor?

For a fleeting mont, an image of Kang Han-min crossed my mind—his face, worn and pleading, seeking salvation as he often lingered near outside the dorms, hoping for a kind word after being relentlessly berated by Jang Ki-young.

What had I done back then?

Ah, yes. I had offered hollow reassurances.

"It’ll get better. Just push a little harder, and Instructor Jang will recognize your efforts."

The similarity of the situation was not lost on . Almost instinctively, I delivered the sa kind of empty consolation to Jang Ki-young.

"Yes, I believe it was effective."

Even those shallow words seed to bring him so joy.

His stern eyes glistened faintly with emotion.

And yet, it must have been difficult for him.

"I think…I’ve discovered a way to beco Awakened."

"Is that so?"

"Right, zombies. Aren't they just another form of human mutation? When a human's biological activity ceases, mutation factors latch onto the corpse and infuse it with energy from the otherworld. We could exploit that. Imagine putting soone into a near-death state—essentially killing them—and tricking the mutation factors into thinking the person is dead, triggering their effects! At that mont, we revive them. And voila! A human infused with otherworldly power, perhaps even endowed with the psychic abilities of an Awakened and an immortal body!"

Hearing such madness from the mouth of my once-formidable instructor, the infamous Tiger Instructor, filled with deep disappointnt.

I stood, ready to leave, but Jang Ki-young wasn’t finished.

"...People call a fraud, but I’ve seen it. The true nature of monsters. They have a leader. There’s definitely a being that issues orders!"

"A general type?"

"What’s that?"

He didn’t seem to know the term.

Well, of course not. I had only discovered the existence of general types two months ago. Jang Ki-young had left his post over a year ago, so there was no way he could have known.

Unintentionally, my discovery seed to wound him.

"No, that can’t be! It’s not possible! You must’ve been mistaken. You said it was just a hypothesis, right? A hypothesis is just that—a guess!"

"Perhaps you’re right."

"No, listen! There was sothing, like a song—yes, a song! I couldn’t see it because it was inside the rift, but it was definitely singing sothing. Almost like that was their language. When I was playing dead, I heard it clearly. As it commanded, all the monsters retreated back into the rift... except for one. The one I killed with my axe!"

He was spiraling. I made up an excuse to leave.

As I was about to go, Jang Ki-young hesitated, then spoke to .

"Have you been in touch with Han-min?"

I understood his aning and responded coldly.

"No."

Jang Ki-young lost lawsuit after lawsuit.

The forr hero, once a staple of major broadcasting networks and newspapers, was now a regular on the channels of "wreck-casters" on YouTube—people who thrived on public scandals. There, he criticized governnt policies and begged for super chat donations.

When I saw him invoke Kang Han-min’s na—the very student he had cast out, now a savior of our ti—and claim, "I made him who he is," I turned off the video in disgust.

Now Jang Ki-young was dead, and the school to which he had dedicated his life was slated for demolition.

I debated whether to go.

The world was dangerous enough as it was; there was no need to invite additional risk.

But a single ssage changed my mind.

Private Identification Code: REDMASK

It was a ssage from Woo Min-hee.

"You know the school’s being demolished this weekend, right? I think it’d be good if you showed up."

"?"

"You’re not far away, are you?"

"...No comnt."

"Didn’t think so. Talking to soone like wouldn’t do you any good anyway. But I still think you should go."

"Why do you think that?"

"Han-min said it’d be fitting for you to be there."

"Kang Han-min?"

"Yeah. He said you’re the most fitting person for the occasion."

I fell silent, considering whether Han-min’s comnt was mockery or respect.

In the quiet, I could hear Woo Min-hee clicking her tongue.

"By the way, one more thing. You know about Jang Ki-young, right?"

"Instructor Jang? I heard he died. There was a funeral, wasn’t there?"

"He’s alive," Woo Min-hee said, laughing softly.

"He’s alive, and he’s desperately waiting for you to show up."