Hiding a House in the Apocalypse Chapter 45

Rain poured down relentlessly.

It was monsoon season, and the downpour showed no signs of stopping.

While my bunker was equipped with an excellent drainage system, capable of handling all but the heaviest of rains, the recently built decoy bunker wasn’t as fortunate.

Wearing a raincoat, I ventured outside to inspect the decoy bunker, and my uneasy premonition proved correct.

The decoy bunker, which I had spent an entire month building, was already showing signs of collapse.

At this rate, it might cave in before the Legion faction even arrived.

Reinforcents were necessary.

I removed the booby traps connected to the tripwires, retrieved the explosives, and used a pump to drain out the accumulated water.

Once the water was gone, I felled nearby trees and fashioned makeshift supports to reinforce the ceiling.

I wanted to use cent, but with the rain persisting, it was impossible to even pour it, let alone allow it to cure. I had to settle for the wooden supports.

Since the Defender siblings had left, I was stuck doing all the work on my own.

Doing it alone was undoubtedly more exhausting.

Before the war, I could work until I was soaked to the bone, sleep soundly, and get back to it the next day without a care for what others thought. But now, I couldn’t even get proper rest. On top of that, I had to stay vigilant, constantly scanning my surroundings even while working.

This made realize just how invaluable a scout like Defender’s sister was.

The temptation to call Defender for help surged up my throat, but I had my pride.

In the end, I didn’t summon them and managed to patch up the decoy bunker’s structural issues to so extent.

But the sky can be rciless at tis.

Shwoooosh…

This year’s monsoon was particularly unforgiving.

Thunder roared, and torrential rain poured down as though the sky itself had been ripped open.

The rainfall was so intense that my rain gauge recorded a staggering 70mm per hour.

It was the worst downpour since the war began.

Perhaps that’s why—

Drip. Drip. Drip.

For the first ti, water began seeping through my bunker’s previously impenetrable ceiling, and murky water started creeping into the main entrance, which had been sealed with earth.

Then ca trouble with the plumbing.

Gurgle… gurgle…

The central toilet emitted a strange, eerie groan, prompting to imdiately shut off all the pipe valves.

Just in the nick of ti.

I narrowly avoided a sewage backup flooding the entire bunker.

That would have turned my haven into a literal cesspool.

But this was just the tip of the iceberg.

The massive downpour was pressing down on everything beneath it with rciless weight.

Splat, splat, splat.

In the afternoon, I heard the sound of a landslide.

It wasn’t near the decoy bunker but across the valley, where weak ground composed of dead and young trees had given way and spilled downhill.

Countless worries raced through my mind.

The worst-case scenario was flooding.

If the underground food storage or generator were subrged, it would spell certain doom for .

Throughout the storm, I kept vigilant, darting between the second and third underground levels, the garage, and the main bunker to check for leaks.

I had to give my past self so credit.

Even under over 300mm of torrential rain, my bunker stood firm.

But it wasn’t without damage.

The first floor, directly connected to the outside, was inevitably flooded.

Though the water only reached ankle height, it was enough to make living in the bunker nearly impossible.

The stench was the worst part.

While I had managed to prevent sewage from directly backing up, the septic tank had filled with rainwater, causing its contents to spill everywhere. So of that waste had mixed with other rainwater and seeped into the bunker, spreading a foul, damp odor.

The rain let up montarily, and I stepped outside to survey the sky.

Though the downpour paused, the skies remained overcast, and the monsoon showed no signs of abating.

I checked the decoy bunker.

Despite my exhausting reinforcent efforts, it hadn’t collapsed but had essentially turned into a water tank.

Sigh.

Grasping the shovel tightly, I felt the weight of humanity’s insignificance in the face of nature.

Thunk.

My next target was the entrance to the main bunker, which I had previously buried with the excavator.

I needed to reopen it.

For drainage, for ventilation—there was no other choice.

Without reopening this door, I had no idea how to expel the water and foul air.

Even with a decent ventilation system, nothing beats having the door wide open.

Thunk.

Thankfully, the ground had softened, making digging easier. Soon, the sturdy front door of my ho ca into view.

Here’s an obscure fact: engraved on the solid steel door, in small letters, is the na Park Gyu.

It’s a sort of naplate.

I’d seen naplates on houses while strolling through residential areas in the past and decided to imitate the idea. Not that many people would notice it.

Anyway, as I pushed open the heavy door, a blast of hot, humid, foul-slling air rushed out, revealing the staircase that descended endlessly below.

Carefully, I made my way down and began draining the water.

Vroooom…

Purchasing a drainage pump had been a stroke of genius.

It felt like ordering a side dish at a restaurant only to find it tastier than the main course.

I had bought the pump for cleaning the septic tank, never imagining it would perform so admirably.

In hindsight, for anyone living underground, a drainage pump was a necessity, yet no one ever seed to emphasize that point.

Most people focused on waterproofing asures to prevent flooding in the first place, but few thought about what to do when those systems failed.

Given the circumstances, I couldn’t access the internet, but I was certain many of my forum friends were facing similar woes right now.

Without a pump, they’d have to bail water out by hand with buckets.

As the pump worked its magic with 10 horsepower, I climbed to the top of the hill above the bunker.

From the misty summit, I scanned the area.

The landscape was covered in water.

Everywhere.

Abandoned rice paddies now brimd with water for the first ti in years.

I walked around in the drizzle, surveying the surroundings.

One of the decoy bunkers had collapsed.

While the bunker itself was intact, the soil surrounding it had slid, blocking the entrance.

Returning to the main bunker, I found the pump had nearly finished draining the water.

The remaining cleanup involved mopping up the residual water and drying the area with the boiler.

After tidying up the pump, I turned on the faucet.

Sigh.

One problem after another.

The water tank had apparently leaked rainwater as well.

The murky, muddy water dripping from the faucet was proof enough.

The rain continued through the night.

Though it wasn’t as heavy as before, as long as the rain persisted, cleaning the water tank was out of the question.

Naturally, this ant no showers and sleeping in the truck parked in the garage.

Drinking water was also an issue.

With the water tank contaminated, I had to resort to using purification capsules to turn the muddy water into sothing drinkable.

Gag!

Unsurprisingly, it tasted like antiseptic.

Using the leftover purified water, I washed my face and checked in with my neighbors.

Defender’s place was in chaos.

“Suh-seobang! You called at the right ti. Can you lend your pump?”

“Kyaaa! We’re about to beco water ghosts!”

Their ho, being underground as well, faced similar issues.

On the other hand, the sniper, who lived in a high-rise building, seed unbothered.

“Korean buildings are built well. So sturdy.”

“I want sothing juicy since it’s raining.”

Rebecca’s rare praise for Korean construction likely ant she hadn’t felt a single drop of rain.

The rain showed no rcy, and with my plumbing system already compromised, I spent two more sleepless days monitoring the entirety of my bunker.

By the end of it, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

The sight wasn’t pretty.

My hair was matted, my skin pale, and dark circles hung heavily under my eyes.

Worst of all, despite my exhaustion, I knew there was still more labor ahead.

At this point, the Legion faction, the Awakened, and even Jeju Island felt like trivial concerns.

With my survival directly threatened, distant enemies didn’t matter.

Standing before the imdiate flood damage and the monuntal workload it entailed, everything else seed far away and irrelevant.

*

It was three days after the monsoon ended that I finally connected to the internet.

Nearly a week had passed since my last log-in.

During the rain, I couldn’t connect. The first-floor circuit board of the bunker had been completely shut down due to the damp environnt, and frankly, I hadn’t had the luxury of ti to go online.

From what I could gather, the rain had poured relentlessly across the entire country.

What struck the most, however, was the silence of Failnet.

Failnet had gone completely dark.

Co to think of it, John Nae-non’s base of operations was underground.

Could they have survived?

I sent a ssage to one of John Nae-non’s subordinates.

ssage from 183cm88kg18cm: “Ah, Skelton. Don’t worry. We’re fine. But the rain was so heavy that our communication antenna took a hit. As much as we hate relying on the governnt, it seems we have no choice this ti.”

Thankfully, John Nae-non and his group were still alive.

But I also learned sothing unexpected.

Failnet had a connection to the governnt.

It wasn’t always this way. Likely, Failnet had grown so influential that the governnt decided to extend a hand on its own.

In any case, the silence of Failnet turned our board into a lively little village once again, reminiscent of the old days.

Many familiar users were posting.

As expected, the posts were all about the rain.

Everyone was talking about how brutal the rain had been and the significant damage it had caused.

I sent ssages to people I knew.

ssage from DragonC: “I’m alive. But my kid’s sick. Any chance you could spare so dicine?”

ssage from Anonymous848: “Well, I’m not dead. Got plenty of food.”

ssage from mmmmmmmmm: “ㅗ”

ssage from dongtanmom: “Who? Yum?”

“….”

It seed everyone had stubbornly survived, sohow.

But this disaster would undoubtedly deal another brutal blow to a dying South Korea.

Sure enough, our trusted Gija Yangban (Reporter Guy) shared an update from Incheon.

gijayangban: “Current flood-related missing persons: over 50,000.”

gijayangban: “Governnt has stopped counting.”

There were no photos or other evidence, but everyone believed him.

They believed him because they had experienced the devastation firsthand.

Flooding in a well-built apartnt protected by aluminum fras was one thing; being waist-deep in water was another entirely.

And this ti, more people had experienced the latter.

Vroooom!

Next to the decoy bunker, the pump humd as it worked tirelessly to drain water.

Even though I’d been working throughout the monsoon, the tasks seed endless.

Cleaning the water tank, repairing the groundwater pump, clearing clogged drains, drying, organizing—it was an unending list.

“….”

Monts like this brought the temptation to give up on everything.

To escape into drugs or alcohol, living recklessly like so many others.

But I couldn’t afford that.

There were still things I wanted to see.

In the far south, on Jeju Island, my forr colleagues were closing the Rifts.

I wanted to see their results.

Of course, it wouldn’t be easy.

Rain or shine, I was still on the Legion faction’s radar and could be attacked at any ti.

Even draining the decoy bunker’s water was just another desperate act to stay alive.

“Hm?”

Sothing wriggled out of the damp earth.

It was a cicada nymph.

It wasn’t fully grown, but the chaotic weather must have pushed it out prematurely for an early glimpse of adulthood.

I picked it up and tossed it back into the soil before turning my gaze to the decoy bunker.

Suddenly, a thought struck .

Was I so different from this cicada?

Cicadas spend nearly seven years living underground, preparing to molt. Once they erge, they live briefly, crying and mating before dying.

This decoy bunker was no different.

It had been built solely for one mont—a grand performance.

A dramatic bang! before collapsing under the Legion faction’s eyes.

Until then, it would remain in waiting.

No one knew how long it would have to wait.

Defender might be right; perhaps the Legion faction would never co.

If that were the case, it ant I’d have to endlessly maintain and repair a bunker built to collapse soday, all for an enemy that might never arrive.

What if that waiting stretched beyond seven years?

“…Mimimi.”

Just like a cicada.

SKELTON: Mimimi… The rain is too much. So exhausting. Mimimi….

dongtanmom: Yum yum… Why are you copying ? Yum yum….

SKELTON: Mimimi… Shut up, Mimimi….

dongtanmom: Yum yum… That’s rude… If you t in person, you wouldn’t dare say that. Yum!

SKELTON: Mimimi… I’m a Level 18 Awakened. Wanna fight IRL? Mimimi….

It was all just to ss with dongtanmom, or rather, Baek Seung-hyun.

ssage from defender: “Skelton? Have you finally lost it?”

ssage from Anonymous848: “What’s this? Did the rain make you snap?”

ssage from mmmmmmmmm: “Yomnyomnyom~?”

ssage from gijayangban: “?”

The reactions around were universally shocked.

I admit, it was a bizarre concept even by my standards.

But it was just stress relief.

That surge of impulsive energy that sotis takes over and makes you act crazy.

Perhaps it was inevitable.

I had been harboring a grudge against Baek Seung-hyun for so long that my pent-up stress finally burst out.

However, my strange antics seed to resonate with soone unexpected.

iamjesus: “Mimimi….”

One of the four self-proclaid lunatics of the board, iamjesus, had taken to my concept.

So far, so good.

It’s natural for one lunatic to be drawn to another, like magnets attracting each other.

The problem was the photo he attached.

“…Hm?”

The photo showed the interior of a dark bunker.

It was a grim scene of poverty, littered with explicit adult items, and a man who looked downright pitiful.

It would have been an ordinary, miserable photo if not for the eerie glow in his eyes and the halo-like grayish light shining behind him.

I recognized the phenonon imdiately.

“Alpha Awakening.”

A distinct phenonon that occurs when a high-level Awakened becos conscious of their power.

Unlike other Awakened, they exude an otherworldly brilliance, as though proclaiming to the world that they’ve been chosen by a higher power.

iamjesus: “Mimimi… What’s happening to ? Mimimi….”

It seed that a divine power had chosen one of the board’s outcast lunatics.