This summer wasn’t hot.

There were certainly a few days where it was hard to endure without turning on the air conditioner, but overall, the days were warm, the nights were cool, and the weather gave off just enough of a summer feeling.

Even the sky was bluer than ever.

The old capital of Korea, once shrouded in a gray haze brought by years of westerly winds and fine dust, now displayed such a harmonious landscape of mountains, plains, water, and sky that it made you understand why the ancestors had chosen that land as the seat of their capital hundreds of years ago.

It looked like a rare gift from the heavens, granted to a humanity ravaged by war and dimensional rifts.

And yet, in the midst of these blessed days, people were locked in bitter, age-old conflicts.

Twelve members of the Jeju Committee had been arrested.

They were brought before military tribunal on charges of anti-national acts, genocide, treason, and various other crimes tied to the downfall of the Republic of Korea. Some were reportedly charged with over a hundred counts, including private corruption and criminal misconduct.

The public’s response was unknown.

As Defender’s Skull Brigade tore through Seoul, dragging out Jeju Committee members while the military and police stood by, FoxNet went offline.

There was the option of gathering scattered opinions through Necropolis, but for some reason, even Necropolis had become inaccessible.

The only network still available was Viva! Apocalypse!—but our forum is as good as dead now.

I couldn’t go outside.

Martial law had been declared.

According to classified materials released by the government, some members of the Jeju Committee accused of treason had gone into hiding or escaped, with their private forces plotting a counterattack.

Despite the perfect weather for a stroll, the streets were ghostly empty. Sloppy drones, retrofitted from compact police vehicles, buzzed overhead playing warning broadcasts telling people to stay indoors.

Fortunately, the schedule for the rift expedition had not been delayed.

Even though the city was on the verge of an explosion, it had nothing to do with Yoo Yang-seo’s faction.

Those who revered Kang Han-min wouldn’t care who ruled the city.

As long as their allocated supplies were delivered, they wouldn’t mind even if a dog or cat took over.

Yoo Yang-seo’s people had requested a transport from the Seoul government.

I requested permission to observe the convoy.

Previously, I’d been flatly rejected—but this time, they surprisingly agreed.

Either Jeon Si-hoon’s influence had grown, or they were simply too busy preparing for conflict with the remnants of the Jeju Committee to bother with me.

It may not seem like much, but observing what materials are being sent in is a goldmine of intel for someone like me heading into the rift.

In short: What do people inside the rift consume?

Knowing that tells me, another human, exactly what I should bring.

The contents of the supply convoy were quite different from what I’d expected.

I thought food and water would make up the bulk—but among the 24 trailers and dump trucks, the majority was filled with construction materials like rebar and cement.

A large-scale construction project seemed underway.

The rest of the vehicles, which weren’t carrying building materials, held what I had expected—mostly water, food, and a small amount of daily necessities.

There were very few weapons or ammunition.

That information was incredibly valuable to me.

Since I’m limited in how much I can carry into the rift, I have to be very deliberate about my packing—and this gave me a useful benchmark.

The total weight of what I’ll carry into the rift is 45 kilograms.

That number was calculated based on my height, weight, and physical condition.

Estimated maximum mission duration: 14 days.

If I eat and drink less, I could stretch that to 48 days.

Unlike the supply kits for Awakened personnel, a large portion of my pack consists of weapons.

Just my exoskeleton and firearms alone exceed 20 kilograms.

I’d like to carry less, but based on everything I’ve learned, there are monster types inside the rift specifically designed to target human intruders—not just the usual monsters invading Earth in swarms.

Some call them extinction-types, but those familiar with the rift refer to them as “antibodies.”

Unlike other creatures that ignore humans, these ones are like the Executioner type—they identify humans precisely and attack relentlessly.

Some of these antibody-types are said to be mid-tier or larger combat-class monsters.

It’s possible they won’t detect me—like many others don’t.

But what if one of them is the exception?

Even with my new ability, what if one sees me and comes at me with razor-sharp teeth?

I need a way to fight back.

So I brought a Hunter weapon.

Type 99. Locally known as Kyukyu, a Japanese Hunter weapon.

Japanese Hunter weapons are just as peculiar and unconventional as British-made ones.

Of course, like British gear, many are useless—but the Kyukyu was one I had kept an eye on back in my Professor days.

It has high reliability and destructive power against medium-class monsters and above.

I chose it because it’s the lightest and most straightforward option among weapons capable of handling mid-class enemies.

Compared to my usual Hapunizer, it’s 500 grams lighter.

And 500 grams means three days’ worth of food—or one and a half days’ worth of water.

Inside the rift, there’s no water. Nowhere to get it, either.

The reason I once survived nearly a month with broken limbs was because I had spare water.

I don’t like drones, but I decided to bring one this time.

In a monochrome gray space where everything looks the same, it’s easy to get lost.

Having a drone that can spot signs of humanity from afar? A solid choice.

But that’s not the only reason I was thinking about drones.

There was something I had to do before entering the rift.

Something that might even be more important than what I do inside.

*

“It's called Baramgaebi.”

If I had to name the person I know who understands drones best, it would, of course, be Hong Da-jeong.

“Strangely, it wasn’t developed before the war, but after. By an individual, not a company. Yeah, a makeshift drone.”

Defender had changed a lot, but so had Hong Da-jeong.

She had always been beautiful, but there used to be something chilling, something unsettling in her pallor and aura.

Now, time—or perhaps peace—had softened those sharp, cold edges.

Objectively speaking, she was a far more beautiful and gentle woman than before.

If she’d carried this vibe back when we first met, we might’ve ended up together the day she came to my shelter.

I felt a twinge of regret, but not enough to leave a bitter aftertaste.

“Look, if you load it in a crossbow and fire it—spin!—it rotates while generating lift. It'll eventually fall, sure, but during the descent, you can observe the target area from a high-angle camera.”

She smiled as she handed me the new drone.

Hong Da-jeong studied my face.

“What’s wrong, Skelton? You look heavy.”

“...It’s nothing.”

“What is it? Skelton, we’ve known each other too ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) long for that. If something’s on your mind, talk to me. Da-jeong noona will listen.”

“Just...”

I quietly stared at her.

She stared right back.

I considered keeping it in, but ended up blurting it out.

“You look more beautiful now.”

Hong Da-jeong gave a short laugh and turned her head.

Then she looked back at me and asked,

“Out of nowhere?”

“It’s just a genuine impression. No hidden agenda, so you can filter it however you want. Purely honest.”

“Even if it’s just flattery, it’s nice to hear. I never thought I’d hear that from Skelton. If my brother hears about this, he’ll come running, yelling ‘Skelton is courting my sister!’”

She let out a shallow sigh and looked at me.

“Well, that ship has sailed anyway.”

“I know.”

She gave me a playful glare.

“You give up that easily? That’s kind of a letdown on this side, you know.”

I didn’t react.

She and I both felt it.

The boundary between us.

The day she came to me, I turned her down. And that drew a line—an invisible but unmistakable one.

I have a lot of pride, but Hong Da-jeong is a proud woman, too.

She’s not the kind to cling to a man who once rejected her.

In relationships like ours, silence often serves to switch topics.

“How’s your brother doing?”

“My brother?”

Hong Da-jeong gave a bitter half-smile.

“Eh, you know.”

She looked at me.

“What do you think, Skelton?”

I nodded.

“Seems dangerous.”

Hong Da-jeong lowered her eyes and nodded slowly in silence.

She knew it too.

That Defender was walking into danger.

Danger often travels with fortune.

Fortune is frequently wrapped in the invisible gift wrap of peril.

Anyone could see Defender was on the rise—shooting straight up.

The guy who once bantered with me on Viva! Apocalypse! now stood shoulder to shoulder with Kim Byung-chul at his peak.

This was undoubtedly his prime.

He had triggered the televised trials.

His private army had detained the Jeju Committee. He was now a key benefactor to Jeon Si-hoon, the future king of Seoul.

That power and status were undeniable.

But I saw danger there.

And Hong Da-jeong, too, saw something similar.

She broke the silence.

“...At some point, I don’t think he even knew what he wanted anymore. Same for me, really.”

She spun the little drone, nicknamed Baramgaebi, with her fingers.

“At first, it was just about survival. We did whatever it took. Killed anyone who came for us. Took anything we needed. Nothing else mattered. My brother and I buried Mom and swore we’d never lose to the world that killed our parents. That’s when we met you, Skelton.”

“...”

“When we were with you, things were bleak. But things got better afterward. Yeah. People started following us. We formed a real group.”

“I remember.”

“Back then, I worried all the time. What if my brother got shot in the streets by a cultist? What if he died screaming? I sat in our room, eyes glued to a drone feed, watching his every move.”

Nothing in life comes easy.

Hong Da-jeong had carried her own burdens and done her best.

She looked at me—appraising, probing—and said:

“That was around the time my brother first seriously asked me if I’d think about finding someone to marry.”

“Not me?”

“Well, I did like you. But that was then. Not anymore.”

“That so?”

I let my disappointment slip.

She smirked like a mischievous girl and replied:

“I’m like a limited-time offer. Once I’m gone, you’ll never get another chance.”

“...”

Hong Da-jeong spun the Baramgaebi again, her mood turning somber.

“Our group got too big. Way bigger than we imagined. When Foxgame used to call life a one-shot blues in the chatroom, I thought that was something only old-timers said. But turns out we had our own one-shot moment, too.”

She looked up at the ceiling with wide eyes.

“And then it all gets confusing. Whether this is fortune or misfortune.”

“It’s fortune—if you can control it.”

“Did you know Foxgame’s old company CEO killed himself?”

“No?”

“Earned tens of trillions. Ran a solid company. Still took his own life. Why? I used to think I’d never understand someone like that. But now... I sort of get it.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

I was glad I’d come to see Hong Da-jeong.

Not just for the drone.

I could’ve borrowed one from Seven.

No—the reason I came here was Defender.

The indomitable siblings were faltering.

I stared at her.

“I want to talk to Defender. No—your brother.”

I know I have almost no power to change the course of someone riding the wave of history.

But I thought I might still be in a position to give him a word of advice.

Da-jeong would open the way.

“My brother?”

She handed me the arrow-shaped drone.

“He might not listen.”

I took the drone.

“I don’t want to regret not trying.”

She looked at me.

For just a moment, I saw in her eyes the same look from when we first met.

Yes—that pure gaze that once liked me simply for being Park Gyu.