Forum socializing doesn’t have the best reputation.
In fact, many users mock these interactions as "jotmok-jil", blaming them as the main reason forums go downhill.
Since our board isn’t a closed community, but an open one, people flow in and out like the tide—and if a new user sees what looks like a bunch of old regulars calling each other “hyung” and “bro,” they’ll click the back button without hesitation.
But surely, the original developers of online forums considered these social bonds from the start.
Socializing isn’t inherently bad.
For boards like ours—where people ask for help and contemplate their future—friendships can actually expand each mber’s living space and range of knowledge, serving a vital role in tis of crisis.
As for , I never actively engaged in it.
Call it social position or whatever.
I was in no place to be forming close ties.
Sure, I had a few friends, but I never went out of my way to make them or bond with others.
But the forum had more than just .
Other users ford friendships of their own.
So did so visibly, right on the board. Others did it in secret, quietly building up their affinity stats behind the scenes.
The bond between Defender and King ca from one of those secret circles.
“There was a ti I was getting roasted on the board, and King told to co to Sejong. I refused back then, but after that, we kept ssaging. We really started getting close last winter. Around the ti I began sweeping up the fanatics in Seoul.”
The foundation of any bond is shared understanding.
Defender and King didn’t seem to have much in common—but once Defender had his own organization, they clicked faster than anyone expected. And they developed a deep mutual understanding.
Especially when it ca to sniffing out and disposing of fanatics hidden in a large city—they’d had countless intense conversations about it.
“Honestly, he’s not a good person. He’s far from kind. Cruel, maybe. Or better yet, soone capable of cruelty. But he was easy to talk to. Might sound blunt at first, but once you get used to him, it feels way more refreshing than people who beat around the bush.”
Hong Da-jeong also had a favorable view of King.
“More than anything, he was sharp. Talking to him made feel like he could see right into my head. Makes sense—soone like that could build a place like Sejong.”
King had personally summoned Defender.
More precisely, four days before collapsing, he sent a scheduled ssage through Viva! Fox! requesting help from Defender.
Including a secret I didn’t know—a critical one surrounding the Zombie King.
“He said he left the key with IAmJesus. I don’t know what that key is, but it must be sothing huge. Just look at how all the top dogs in Sejong have gathered here and staked their claims.”
Maybe that’s why.
Defender didn’t co alone.
Behind his customized sports car—raised chassis and all—lined up trucks, jeeps, even a modified school bus.
“...So this is the Skull Brigade.”
Defender had brought his infamous private army—the Skull Brigade.
Which ant King had known from the start this wasn’t going to be a personal fight—but a power struggle between factions.
“When I tried contacting you, they said you’d already left. Didn’t say where, but I figured it out.”
That’s how the Defender siblings ended up here.
Though there was still sothing even they didn’t know.
“Baugung, huh...”
When I brought up Myeolcheonbogung, even the ever-composed Defender tensed.
He pointed to one of his n standing quietly behind him.
A short man hobbled toward us. He wasn’t using crutches, but his left leg was a prosthetic.
“They’ve dug in at Sariwon. Those bastards hacked off the heads of the ruling family. Not even a thousand elite Revolutionary Guards could stop them.”
Defender paraphrased for us.
“They’re fakes, sure. But to fanatics, a cult na is like a pedigree. If it’s a fake na, no one cares, but if it’s a proper one with history, you can’t just use it. You get punished if you do. And ‘Baugung’ is a top-tier na. The fact that they’re using it openly ans they’re no joke. Maybe there’s a real forr mber among them.”
I glanced at Moon Yang-gyeong.
She looked visibly bored.
Well, we’re just standing around talking when the ops zone is right ahead—of course she’s bored.
Still, this part is necessary.
The more intel you have before the mission starts, the better.
Once it begins, there’s no turning back.
Getting hit while clueless and getting hit while sowhat prepared are two very different things.
After sharing intel for a while, we proceeded with recon.
Today’s recon specialist was, of course, Hong Da-jeong.
“Oh, I’ve seen this one before.”
She fiddled with the drone control gear installed inside the vehicle like it was her own.
I’d noticed it before, but her health had definitely improved.
Her complexion, her sharper movents—it was clear.
Cheon Young-jae had said ominous things, but I didn’t believe him.
“You look a lot better.”
She nodded.
“Jong-cheol’s been taking good care of .”
“Heo Jong-chul?”
“Yeah. He’s really starting to act like a proper doctor.”
From a distance, Defender chid in.
“People from the academy always had good heads on their shoulders.”
I agreed.
Sure, hunting is mostly physical—but our school filtered out the stupid early on.
So people even argued back then that Hunters should have to take the college entrance exam.
That idea got shut down thanks to Jang Ki-young. Personally, I think that was one of the few good things my ntor ever did.
“He’s practically a modern-day Hua Tuo now.”
Defender added.
Hua Tuo, huh...
Well, with that kind of ability and real clinical experience, it’s no surprise he’d reach heights normal people couldn’t.
He can peer into the human body in real ti—far better than MRI or CT scans.
One of the few actual benefits of the Awakened.
“Anyway... what’s that?”
Da-jeong, fiddling with the gear, had noticed John Nae-non tucked neatly in my chest pocket.
“A rat? Big for a rat. And really calm.”
“That’s John Nae-non.”
“John Nae-non?”
She frowned.
“My new partner. As you can see, it’s a mutation. Helps out a lot.”
I fed him a piece of energy bar.
Da-jeong watched with curiosity, but didn’t try to touch him.
Still a rat, after all.
“Alright, I’m launching.”
The recon drone rose into the air.
It hovered gracefully before shooting straight toward the city.
We observed the feed through the screen inside the vehicle.
As expected, a gray wasteland.
The lower areas were blanketed in the typical fog that ford in monster-dominated zones.
Honestly, I could handle basic recon like this.
The real test was next.
“Can you take it over there?”
I pointed at a skeletal building fra jutting out of the fog.
“Okay.”
The drone darted forward, skimming dangerously close to the structure.
“Whoa?!”
Moon Yang-gyeong yelped in surprise—but the screen quickly adjusted and displayed an overhead street view again.
That razor-edge maneuver.
Exactly what I wanted—but couldn’t do myself.
Hong Da-jeong was excellent at drone control.
“Can you check that spot too?”
Every location I asked her to check was a potential sniper’s nest—spots that could overlook multiple angles from a single point.
“Okay~ If Skelton commands it~”
She executed the maneuvers with cheerful ease.
Focused and glowing with health, her profile looked far more charming than before.
While she scouted various locations—
Beep— Beep— Beep—
An alarm went off.
“What’s that?”
I didn’t recognize it.
I’d never been in the war.
But Hong Da-jeong and the veterans did.
“Drone!”
Mounted on the vehicle’s roof was a device that looked like a supersized Wi-Fi antenna.
It was a drone detector.
Back during the war, China had only landed a handful of ground troops—but those few ca ard with nightmare-level drones.
The various drones they deployed were the most feared weapons among frontline troops.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The heavy-caliber machine gun mounted to the rear vehicle fired, but the alarm didn’t stop.
Only after so distance did it finally cease.
“So they found us, huh.”
It was expected.
Still, we continued recon.
Though it was wise to have insurance.
“Moon Yang-gyeong.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Can you control a drone?”
“I’ve never interfered with one before. But I can try.”
“Good. Young-jae—back her up.”
“Okay.”
Click.
I drew my gun too.
In case we spotted a suicide drone and had to respond quickly.
Behind us, Defender’s n began setting up anti-air defenses.
I looked around once more and asked Defender,
“Got a jamming gun?”
“Trash. Nobody uses that crap. Better to have multiple alarms instead.”
If the expert says so, I’ll believe him.
I went back into the vehicle and continued the recon with Da-jeong.
“How about this side?”
“Okay.”
“Can you check over there?”
“If Skelton asks, sure.”
No doubt about it—Hong Da-jeong was a top-tier drone pilot.
In Korea and China, drone pilots were treated better than regular infantry.
Frontline soldiers often grumbled that the ones playing with pads in the back got all the perks—but if I were in charge, I’d do the sa.
Unlike soldiers, who’re lost forever when killed, drone operators can continue performing at peak ability no matter how many drones get shot down.
Da-jeong had skills on par with China’s ace drone pilots.
“Here.”
At nearly full speed, she flew the drone through a narrow one-ter gap between walls covered in protrusions—and found a critical piece of intel on the other side.
“You saw that?”
BOOM!
A shockwave thundered from the city.
The drone feed cut out.
We lost the drone—but the data it sent back was intact.
We slowed the footage on the laptop.
“Baugung! It’s really those bastards!”
The North Korean man, who’d seen Myeolcheonbogung firsthand, trembled.
“Those fuckers don’t see people as people.”
As we know, the cult—founded by ga-addicted tangping dropout Ma Won-gap—was filled with gar logic.
From their terminology to their powers, there was no escaping Ma Won-gap’s influence.
But their most distinctive trait was their “look.”
Fanatics cared a lot about appearance.
Not in the sense of wearing designer brands or gold chains.
More like grotesquely stylized, apocalyptic fashion.
The more notorious the cult, the more twisted the look—and the people in the footage were very clearly fanatics.
“No one but fanatics could pull off outfits like that.”
Four people. Three n, one woman.
They wore flowy clothes like sothing out of a wuxia film—white robes, possibly modified hanbok, with the characters for Myeolcheon (滅天) emblazoned all over.
One man even wore a hat /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ like Zhuge Liang from Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Judging by its craftsmanship, it was either imported from mainland China or handmade by a skilled artisan.
“Myeolcheonbogung is made up of mostly level-5 or higher Awakened. But they’ll accept lower-level ones too, if they’ve got serious combat skills—like forr soldiers.”
Defender was right.
Our enemy wasn’t just ordinary fanatics.
They were part of the global military designs for Awakened task forces—born from the era of Kang Han-min.
But this was only one part of what we’d face today.
A strange signal ca through the public frequency.
Chzzzzk—
Through the static, a man’s voice spoke.
“Is that Park Gyu over there? I heard you were a famous hunter.”
I looked at Defender.
Silence.
That was our answer.
“I’d tell you my na, but it’s too soon for that. Just think of us as people trying to protect Sejong. You know, King was about to hand the entire city to so schizophrenic lunatic. Can any sane person just stand by and watch that happen? You need a real expert in administration and politics to run a city. You don’t make soone king just because they’re an Awakened. One king’s enough.”
The drone sensors remained quiet.
The voice continued.
“Zombie King’s on his last legs. Dead in a day or two, tops. Right now, we’re just confirming. We’re not trying to fight you guys. Seoul and Sejong—aren’t those humanity’s last strongholds in Korea? We should be friends.”
Dust clouds rose in the distance.
A zombie horde was forming.
They were heading this way.
They must’ve sensed us.
Defender’s soldiers gave the order to retreat.
“Looks like you’ve brought ard forces. Waste of effort. We control the city. And we’ve got Awakened rcs, too. We won’t attack you first—but if you enter the city, it’ll be a different story. Make the smart choice.”
The transmission cut off.
Defender looked at .
Da-jeong, sitting in the back, gave a worried look too.
I knew what they were worried about.
“We wait for nightfall.”
We pulled back to avoid the oncoming horde.
“Three days,”
Defender said.
“We’ve got to enter the city within that window. I made excuses just to co here.”
“I have a plan.”
We wait for night.
Then—
“You sure about this?”
“Skelton. You’re going into that zombie hellhole alone? Even if you’re Skelton, this is—”
Click.
I readied my gear.
I knew the terrain and the variables.
All that was left was to see it with my own eyes.
I gave the worried siblings a faint smile.
“Skelton...”
“....”
No need for long speeches between us.
They gave their silent approval.
Their trust filled the empty space in my chest as I walked alone toward the darkening field.
Uuuuuu...
Zombies ca into view.
Not the sluggish, half-asleep ones—but active ones, busily moving.
Hundreds of them.
A single gunshot or scream, and they’d swarm like a tidal wave.
Anyone in their right mind would never step into that.
But I had sothing only a few knew.
I approached.
They saw .
One of them stumbled toward .
“...Uuuu...”
But it just passed by.
That’s right.
I am the darkness.
I looked up at the hazy silhouette of the city and moved forward.
“....”
A deep hunger gnawed at .
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