After The Hope fell, M9’s life was, all things considered, relatively peaceful.

He had the fame of being The Hope’s last resident, and the charisma to milk that fame for all it was worth.

He didn’t hold any official position, but still lived comfortably thanks to backing from various sponsors inside the government.

But that didn’t mean his life was truly secure.

Even though he never let it show, if you thought objectively about M9’s situation, it was like being on a slowly sinking ship—you never knew when the peace he enjoyed might collapse.

Fame turns into familiarity, then disappears. And support from strangers—not family—always dries up the moment they lose interest.

M9 seemed to understand this well enough and started preparing his own survival plan.

The fact that he boarded the train bound for Jeong Dae-kyung’s kingdom is a scene that encapsulates the reality he was facing.

I never asked, but it didn’t seem like things had gone well between him and Ji Young-hee, who had once lived in the same place.

They probably didn’t.

Even though their encounters were brief and few, Ji Young-hee always yearned for the “1%” and dreamed of living among them.

Even after the apocalypse hit, that dream didn’t fade—it only burned hotter.

When that dream of staying in the 1% crumbled, she chose to lay low like M9 did—but I always figured that was temporary. A regrouping. A retreat with revenge in mind.

Personally, I think M9 is a good man and a survivor. But not enough to satisfy a woman like Ji Young-hee, who moves solely for ambition.

Before he left for the Crack, M9’s whereabouts were—as always—vague and scattered.

While staying in the government building, he tried to meet and befriend as many people as possible.

He wasn’t picky about status, but I’d heard from Cheon Young-jae and Woo Min-hee that he focused more on connections with powerful people who might be helpful for survival.

In that sense, M9 is a textbook ideal survivor.

Right after he returned from the Crack, M9 disappeared again. But then he messaged me.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: I saw your comment. I sent a message before, but your account showed up as inactive, so I thought you were dead.

I replied right away.

SKELTON: You got a place to go? I found a really nice bunker. You just need to bring yourself. You'll have to do some grunt work, but I’ll try to keep the dangerous stuff to a minimum.

With the bond, trust, and proven ability M9 had, I could definitely accept him.

He was one of the few true friends I still had left on the board. One of the deepest connections.

We couldn’t play games anymore, but back then, he used to be my internet rival.

But then M9 replied with something completely unexpected.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Me? Why?

I tilted my head.

A moment later, a few of my lingering questions about M9 were answered.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Me? I’m in Incheon. With Commissioner Kim So-uk.

M9 was currently in Incheon with Kim So-uk, a Jeju Committee member.

And not just with him—but with the last remaining army of South Korea.

But that wouldn't be their final destination.

There had to be a destination in mind.

I didn’t need to ask to know what it was. Still, M9 told me himself soon after.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: I’m heading to Jeju.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: No Crack there, low population... basically the last refuge left in South Korea.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: If you got nowhere to go, hit me up. I’ll try to save you a spot.

SKELTON: Me? I’m not thinking about going to Jeju.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: You can bring a few people too. You’ve got a week. Think it over and decide.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: And that’s it from Captain M9!

I stared blankly at the monitor for a while.

It had been a long ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) time since I felt the fizz of emotion bubbling up inside me.

“....”

What emotion was this?

Hard to define in a single word—but if I had to guess, it felt less like jealousy and more like worry.

Anyway, M9 had made me an offer.

Personally, I was against it.

It wasn’t a good move.

I could’ve kept this to myself.

Could’ve pretended it never happened.

But I didn’t want to do things alone anymore.

I’d gather the others.

*

“Jeju?”

When I shared M9’s proposal, I expected Kim Daram to jump at the chance more than anyone, throwing a tantrum to take her family to Jeju.

“Why would we go there?”

Bullseye missed.

Just a few years ago, Kim Daram had done everything she could to get to Jeju.

There must be a reason for the change.

These days, she’s a regular parent—but she’s also a member of New Seoul’s Citizens’ Council, the highest decision-making body.

Granted, she wasn’t elected—she got in through backroom deals. But the truth is, she’s built solid standing and power, and she’s been lording it over others ever since.

I asked her why.

Cheon Young-jae looked like he wanted to ask too, but he doesn’t like Kim Daram.

Then again, who besides her family would?

“Back in the day, maybe it was nice.”

Kim Daram took a light sip of steaming tea made from balloon flower root and began to speak.

“You’ve heard of the Wae-gu, right? The Japanese bastards.”

The problem of Japanese refugees has been discussed more than once already.

But the reality was worse.

“Even the warlords in Sokcho abandoned Sokcho and moved inland.”

That was news to me.

Probably some classified intel she caught wind of during her time as a committee member.

When Japanese refugees began popping up in the south, people dismissed them as civilians. Said they’d be weak, untrained, like Korean men who’d never touched a gun.

But most things in this world are decided by numbers. And even experience adds up—eventually it becomes real skill.

Japan’s population is larger than Korea’s. And you know what they say—people who’ve already been nuked are better prepared to get nuked again.

Korea had better initial response, and casualties were lower here—even though we were one of the main battlegrounds.

But Korea had Kang Han-min.

While Kang Han-min let Korea’s population drop into the teens (percentage-wise), the Japanese government clung to theirs—even if it was through lies, coercion, and oppression.

Sure, when they went down, they went down in flames—but the problem is, there are now so many Japanese refugees that they outnumber the survivors in Korea.

Quality of gear and individual skill doesn’t matter when you’re overwhelmed by desperate numbers.

And those refugees? The ones who survived their own civil collapse and got their hands on JSDF weapons?

They evolved into quasi-military forces, now being called “Wae-gu” again—like their pirate ancestors. They’re spreading across the entire Asian sea.

But even so, I didn’t think they’d be able to drive out the Sokcho warlords.

Even a rotten croaker’s still a croaker—the Sokcho warlords used to be the strongest armed force in South Korea. If they’ve given up their base, the enemy’s no joke.

“There are Awakened in Japan too. In Korea, those types would be monitored from childhood, but Japan didn’t do that. Couldn’t. Because over there, there are dozens of independent organizations dealing with Awakened—like subways or railroads, all jumbled up. That’s what happens when the real rulers of your country are old men with money, not the prime minister or the parliament.”

Kim Daram used to have a lot of contact with foreign parties during her time in the committee.

That mindset must’ve come from someone she interacted with from the Japanese side.

But none of that matters.

“If the navy starts shelling, Jeju will be in danger.”

That’s what matters to us.

With the Crack sealed, Jeju is as attractive a promised land to Japanese refugees as China’s Hainan Island.

They’ll flood in.

Maybe they’ve already started nesting there.

Trying to coexist with people you can’t even speak to, who carry centuries of bad blood?

That’s a pipe dream.

Jeju is dangerous.

Even if it’s safe now, it has no future.

Even if the Korean army protects it, the military is a resource-devouring beast.

There’s a reason they kept flying endless cargo planes to move supplies when the government relocated to Jeju.

“I don’t think I’ll go to Jeju either,” Cheon Young-jae added briefly.

Jeju isn’t the answer.

I let M9 know.

SKELTON: Jeju’s not it. We’ve got empty bunker space on our side. It’s nice. Got good people, good protection. All elite.

SKELTON (serious): I know I’m not a good leader. I’ve failed before. I lost a good friend. But this time, I’ll do better. I’ll try my best to make it work for everyone.

From the heart.

But even as I wrote that, I had a strong feeling it wouldn’t go the way I wanted.

Just like he knows me, I know M9.

mmmmmmmmm: I appreciate the sentiment, Skelton.

mmmmmmmmm: But you know, I always wanted to see Jeju. Just once. With my own eyes.

Just like I expected.

I hesitated.

Should I go one step further or not?

Because the next thing I was going to ask was deeply personal for M9.

Might even hurt him.

But this might be my last chance.

Better to regret doing something than to regret doing nothing.

I braced for the fallout and asked:

SKELTON: Things didn’t work out with Young-hee, huh?

For a brief second, a memory floated up of a man with strong, free-spirited arms like a gibbon—simple, but full of life.

He smiled bitterly.

mmmmmmmmm: Shit, man. Like I haven’t been dumped before.

Of course.

mmmmmmmmm: But Young-hee... she’s really assertive.

mmmmmmmmm: Can’t she learn to let someone down gently?

mmmmmmmmm: I knew. No matter what I did, she was never going to look back at me.

mmmmmmmmm: I wasn’t good enough for her.

SKELTON: There’s no man good enough for her.

mmmmmmmmm: Why do you think that?

SKELTON (reflecting): Because the ones who were... are all in the ground.

A brief silence passed between us.

Then M9 sent a message.

A photo.

He was standing on a boat, the sea and gangplank behind him, giving a big thumbs-up.

SKELTON (confused): ?

mmmmmmmmm: First time I ever laughed at one of your jokes, bro. LOL

SKELTON (even more confused): ??!

That was the last message we exchanged before he left the mainland.

Kim So-uk, leading what remained of the Korean military—the main faction—departed Incheon for Jeju with the final large convoy.

The rumors of a deal between Kim So-uk and Jeon Si-hoon were proven true the next day.

The mysterious group that had taken over central New Seoul revealed themselves.

Naturally, their leader was the new hero: Jeon Si-hoon.

“After careful consideration, I’ve concluded that this ruined country needs a radical cure to survive.”

On the newly resumed shortwave radio broadcast, Jeon Si-hoon made no attempt to hide his intentions.

“Korea needs a new order. I will be the one to establish it.”

A new king was born.

No coronation. No crown. No throne. But anyone listening to that broadcast knew.

“Oh my god. What now?”

“...That smug little shit. I knew it.”

“Mom, what’s he mean he’ll decide the order?”

They knew this country no longer had a future.

*

Now that Kim So-uk had taken the remnants of the South Korean military and departed for Jeju, there were only two major factions left capable of opposing Jeon Si-hoon’s forces.

One was the Awakened unit loyal to Kang Han-min, led by Yoo Yang-seo. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

But they had supposedly disappeared like a lie while I was away in the Crack.

The other remaining faction was Sejong, led by IAmJesus.

However, Sejong had no reason to initiate an attack on New Seoul.

Even back when King was alive, Sejong had already built a self-sufficient system. Through close cooperation with surrounding small groups, they’d become a flourishing power without needing any help from the government.

They had no justification or reason to expend people and supplies marching all the way to Seoul.

The only remaining possibility was for the small groups clustered around Seoul’s outskirts to form an alliance and resist Jeon Si-hoon together.

But that was far easier said than done.

Who would unite all those feuding factions? And even if they somehow did unite, who could possibly guarantee victory against a force filled with Skull Brigade elites and Over Level 10 Awakened?

It’s hard enough to tie a bell around a cat’s neck. But this wasn’t a cat—it was a tiger. A mutated tiger.

And that tiger already knew how overwhelmingly advantageous its position was. It had begun demanding voluntary submission from the surrounding factions.

“Anyone willing to join the new order is welcome at any time. But please note: this new order is nothing like the laws and systems of the garbage country formerly known as South Korea. Keep that in mind.”

On the shortwave radio, the voice of an announcer—clear, confident, the same one Defender and I used to like—was relaying Jeon Si-hoon’s statements.

That voice made the already gloomy atmosphere of the bunker feel even darker.

Eventually, Kim Daram snapped.

“Ugh, I never liked that bastard. Even back when I was a committee member, I met plenty of Awakened—but he always gave me the creeps. Poor family, right? Figures. Figures he’d end up like this.”

Says the woman who, by pre-war South Korean standards, was poor herself.

Not that I was in any better shape.

But really, there’s nothing much we can do.

All we can do is live a small, humble life—grateful to be alive each day.

Our only real source of relief is the internet.

Most of the users are dead now, but this is still the only place where people can communicate.

And thanks to the Jeon Si-hoon drama, even users who haven’t posted in forever are coming back and writing again.

I was just about to do my usual silent browsing to blow off steam when something familiar caught my eye.

mmmmmmmmm: (Captain M9) The air in Jeju’s real nice~

M9.