There were two webtoon authors.
One of them enjoyed a long reign of success at the top, earning significant inco and popularity. The other barely clung to the professional sphere, watching younger, fresher authors outpace him, advancing toward the pinnacle he longed for.
One had much to lose.
Before turning 30, he had already amassed enough wealth to live comfortably as a middle-class citizen for the rest of his life. This allowed him to marry and manage assets, things that brought stability and security.
The other did not.
He remained trapped in the instability that cos with being an artist—an existence where living off one’s craft is both a privilege and a curse. He had saved up so money, but it was only enough to scrape by for a lifeti. Marriage was a distant dream, and his personal charm couldn’t compare to that of his successful peer.
Then the world changed.
The popular author, as soone with much to lose, viewed the world optimistically. He dismissed those predicting apocalypse with disdain, criticizing them for their negativity.
Filkrum88: “So many people these days are obsessed with end-of-the-world predictions. Just focus on living your life one day at a ti. Build sothing worth losing instead of worrying about others losing their own.”
This public statent, dripping with contempt for the tis, garnered over 2,300 comnts, most of which were fervent affirmations of his views.
The other author, however, saw the world through a darker lens.
His despair was fueled by the lukewarm reception of his supposed magnum opus—a mystery thriller he had poured his heart into. Disheartened by its lackluster performance, he added gratuitous violence to the story in a desperate attempt to boost engagent, a decision that backfired and tarnished his career.
He eventually received a warning from the platform, and whether by choice or necessity, he discontinued the series.
The struggling author understood his fate all too well.
DragonC: “Thank you, dear readers, for all your support.”
His farewell post received only 13 comnts.
Two of them were spam for illegal Cialis ads.
The fates of these two authors, who had walked such different paths, were completely reversed when the war began.
The popular author, once living in a luxurious suburban mansion in Gyeonggi Province, was pushed back to Seoul, then Bucheon, and finally to a cramped, foul-slling rental near Incheon’s docks. There, he spent his days trying to comfort his wife amidst the hardships.
anwhile, the struggling author poured all his savings into building an impressive bunker equipped with a stable LPG fuel supply, a power generation system, and even satellite internet. He continued creating webtoons, which began to gain traction with the apocalypse-focused community.
If you asked them whether life was better before or after the war, their answers would starkly differ.
At least for DragonC, the once-struggling author, he could confidently say his post-apocalyptic life was an improvent.
This shift in their fortunes beca particularly evident thanks to the winds of change brought about by our ssiah, John_nenon.
The popular author, now active on Failnet, made a post on our forum.
Filkrum88: “Hello, DragonC. This is Filkrum88.”
He had discovered his forr rival, a low-tier author he barely rembered, now thriving in a secure, comfortable space, well-fed and continuing his craft among like-minded doomsayers.
It’s unclear what emotions Filkrum88 felt at first, but the ones we could see were jealousy and anger.
Filkrum88: “So, you’re still pretending to be an author with those diocre skills of yours? Honestly, I don’t see any talent in your work, but I guess you got lucky preparing for the apocalypse. Enjoy playing the role of a great artist, haha.”
If Filkrum88 had been just another reader, DragonC might have laughed it off.
But Filkrum88 wasn’t just anyone—he was a popular author, a towering figure in the industry before the war.
When soone of that stature picks a fight, it’s hard to ignore.
I don’t create much aside from beatboxing, so I can’t fully grasp how DragonC must have felt. But it was clear he was angry.
DragonC: “Thank you for writing such a lengthy post while struggling with a barely functioning internet connection.”
DragonC, usually composed, couldn’t hide his irritation.
Naturally, our community rallied around him.
keystone: “Why are you trying to bring DragonC down? Chill out.”
Anonymous848: “If you’re so bitter, why didn’t you prepare for the apocalypse? You had the money and resources to do it better than us.”
Anonymous458: “Get lost, loser.”
roka3218: “What’s your problem? Jealous that soone less famous is doing well now?”
SKELTON: (Skelton peace sign) “Let’s not fight, everyone!”
unicorn18: “Hey, Filkrum88, could I commission a piece from you?”
It was a heartwarming display of loyalty.
Moved by our support, DragonC posted a brief response:
DragonC: “You guys…!!”
But Filkrum88 wasn’t one to back down easily.
He was a popular author—soone who had clawed his way to the top by outshining countless competitors.
And he knew exactly how to hurt a fellow creator.
Filkrum88: “Announcing my new series: The Remnants—coming soon.”
He declared his intent to create a new series identical in concept, the, and even title to DragonC’s magnum opus.
So might call it plagiarism.
But plagiarism only applies when the imitator is worse than the original.
When soone more famous, popular, and skilled takes an idea and executes it better, the original becos irrelevant.
Filkrum88: The Remnants, Chapter 1: “Kaildos” by Filkrum88.
It was a masterpiece.
The speed, quality of artwork, ticulous structure, and panel composition surpassed all expectations.
Filkrum88 didn’t just copy DragonC’s work—he reinvented it, elevating it to a level that could only be described as art.
anwhile, DragonC’s version felt like a hastily prepared al from a franchise restaurant compared to Filkrum88’s Michelin-star-level creation.
The climax, where Kaildos shares a final kiss with his wife before eting his noble end, was so beautifully rendered that it was impossible not to admire it.
Standing triumphantly atop the podium, Filkrum88 taunted his rival:
Filkrum88: “DragonC, are you there? The story’s good, but the execution was terrible, so I reinterpreted it. I’d love to hear your thoughts, as the original creator.”
Completely overshadowed, DragonC disappeared from the forum without a word.
“...Hah.”
This was a battle we couldn’t intervene in.
It wasn’t just a petty argunt; it was a clash of pride between two creators.
In the arena of art, DragonC was outmatched.
One week later, DragonC ssaged .
DragonC: “Skelton, that profile you sent —is it real?”
SKELTON: “?”
DragonC: “You know, the stuff about graduating top of your class at the Guard Academy, being an S-rank, call sign Professor… all that. Was it true?”
“Ah.”
I realized I might have gone too far.
*
In the past, I would have confidently said yes.
Feeling alive, even in this soul-crushing monotony, is critical for soone like , who harbors a faint hope for long-term survival.
But the situation now isn’t favorable.
There’s a high chance that Woo Min-hee or soone from the governnt is actively monitoring our forum.
Take Reporter Hyung as an example.
Revealing my true identity in a space riddled with watchful eyes would be a catastrophic mistake.
Especially considering that if Woo Min-hee finds out the truth, "sweet little Eom-chang" (31 years old) might genuinely wind up dead...
Still, my support for DragonC is genuine.
For a long ti, he has provided us with ntal "vitamins," helping us stave off boredom and apathy.
And he did it all for free.
Ignoring DragonC would be unthinkable for soone like , known as a man of loyalty in our forum.
That’s why I chose a middle ground.
SKELTON: "There may have been so exaggeration, but it’s true that I was a hunter. Honestly, I’m even better than John_nenon."
It wasn’t a lie.
DragonC: "Your commitnt to your persona is pretty impressive."
SKELTON: (Skelton sheepish)
DragonC: "Anyway, if you’re really a hunter, could you help with sothing?"
SKELTON: "Help? ?"
DragonC: "I’m going to challenge Filkrum again."
SKELTON: "?!"
DragonC: "But an ordinary story won’t cut it, right? Let’s be honest, there’s a massive skill gap. So I’ve been thinking: soone like , lacking in technique, needs to rely on raw material and structure to stand out. That’s why I want to base it on a real hunter’s story."
DragonC: "I have a few questions. Can you help?"
What?
That’s what this is about?
If that’s the case, there’s no reason to refuse.
On the contrary, it’s an honor.
Even if I got 10,000 comnts on Failnet, I’m still a small fish here compared to soone like DragonC. The fact that I can help a forum legend like him? That’s incredible.
SKELTON: "An excellent decision."
And thus began the collaboration between Skelton and DragonC, an event that would go down in history.
To be honest, DragonC didn’t trust much at first.
He seed desperate, reaching out in every direction to find so leverage against the titan that was Filkrum. When I eagerly agreed to help, it must have felt like grasping at straws for him.
But his doubts didn’t last long.
Because this Park Gyu is the real deal.
The pinnacle of old-school hunters.
I shared insights into pre-Awakened hunter tactics, culture, and combat preparation—carefully curated for storytelling—and gave them freely to DragonC.
At first, he listened with skepticism. But soon, his responses turned to amazent, and even admiration.
DragonC: "Hey, were you really a hunter?"
That one line, uttered midway through our work, revealed just how much his perspective had shifted.
SKELTON: "This stays between us. I don’t want my awesoness leaking out into the world."
DragonC: "That’s rich, coming from soone who sent that over-the-top profile intro. What was it? 13th Division? Call sign Professor? Contributor to mutation chanism research? ‘Super badass’?"
SKELTON: (Skelton flustered) "Uh, well, that was for dramatic effect. Honestly, I wasn’t in the 13th Division or anything. Just your average hunter, haha."
“...Ha.”
This Is Not My Fault.
How could anyone have predicted that John_nenon would invade our forum via Failnet?
And how was I supposed to suspect that Reporter Hyung might actually be Woo Min-hee in disguise?
If I had the insight to foresee all of that, I wouldn’t be sitting in a bunker.
I’d be out there leading humanity as its supre leader.
Fortunately, it seed like DragonC didn’t take my catastrophically exaggerated profile seriously.
What he wanted was sothing else entirely.
DragonC: “Could we et in person?”
He wanted to et .
To my surprise, he wasn’t too far from my territory.
DragonC’s hideout turned out to be in the western wasteland—a barren stretch where, if you stood on tiptoe, you could just about catch a glimpse of the waves of the West Sea.
Even DragonC likely didn’t know this:
Defender had recently moved close to his location.
To be honest, even back during my Defender days, I’d noticed sothing peculiar about the western coastline—it was an area most people avoided.
Rumors abounded that Chinese forces might attempt a landing there.
And just across the bay, the land was actually under Chinese military control.
While his choice of location was probably made out of ignorance and apathy, it had inadvertently turned out to be as dangerous—and oddly safe—as my own.
Even the most ddleso pioneers never set foot near the western coast.
Defender:
"West of your place? There’s nothing there. The western coastal area was cleared out at the start of the war, right? The Chinese dropped conventional bombs there to keep us from setting up defenses.”
Regardless, given how close he was, I decided to et DragonC.
Admittedly, part of the reason was concern over the reckless profile I’d sent him.
But that wasn’t the whole story.
As a fellow mber of our community, I simply wanted to help him.
That’s all.
...Right?
*
I Had a Preconceived Notion.
That webtoon authors were young.
It seed like youth was inherently part of their identity.
But when I t DragonC in person, he was almost in his 50s.
His hair was half-covered in gray, deep wrinkles lined his face, and his complexion was an unhealthy reddish tone.
Probably due to liver issues.
His breath carried the pungent stench of soone who smoked far too many cigarettes.
“Hello, I’m Skelton.”
I found myself naturally using formal speech—it just felt appropriate.
“Why so formal? We’re both from the sa board,” DragonC said with a wave of his hand. “Call DragonC. Let’s keep it casual.”
Despite his worn appearance, his voice carried a surprising youthfulness.
“Nice to et you, DragonC. I’m Skelton.”
“You’re younger than I imagined. From your writing style, I thought you’d be my age.”
He extended his hand with a faint smile in his wrinkled eyes.
His palm was calloused—almost as much as mine.
Even people who wield pens instead of weapons could end up with such tough hands.
The area around his bunker was eerily quiet.
“Here,” DragonC handed a pair of binoculars.
“You see that red flag? Those are the Chinese. They haven’t moved an inch. Below them is a zombie nest. Probably so monsters nearby too.”
Sure enough, across the sea, I could make out the small-scale Chinese infantry unit Ji Young-hee had ntioned.
But they didn’t look like soldiers.
They were just another group of survivors, struggling to stay alive.
Instead of rifles, they carried farming tools, diligently tending to their crops in perfect synchronicity, guided by the sound of a whistle.
“Alright, shall we get started?”
DragonC’s enthusiasm was evident.
“Let’s create the immortal masterpiece that’ll crush that cocky little punk, Pilkrum!”
What he wanted from was the authentic stance and techniques of a real hunter:
How to hold a gun, how to handle weapons, how to fight against monsters.
To avoid drawing attention to my axe, I demonstrated with a makeshift dagger and a firearm.
Snap! Snap!
Precise stances. Perfectly executed movents.
The fundantals of an old-school hunter who once carried the title Professor ca alive again on the desolate coastline.
“Wow…”
DragonC’s jaw dropped.
“Skelton, you’re no joke.”
“…My callsign wasn’t really ‘Professor.’ It was DANDY. D.A.N.D.Y.”
“Forget the callsign. You’re incredible!”
A grin of triumph spread across DragonC’s face.
“Seriously… maybe I can win this after all…”
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