All night long, faint echoes of artillery fire came drifting from the distant sky.

A battle had broken out south of the Han River.

It had started, as always, with a petty standoff between Jeon Si-hoon’s group and another survivor faction. But as casualties mounted and grudges deepened, it escalated into an all-out war—then devolved into an extermination.

People who still underestimated the Awakened were still scattered all over the place like ghosts.

Maybe they'll learn something from this, but well—most of them are probably dead already.

The Skull Brigade, once led by Defender, started off as a ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) group dedicated to hunting down fanatics. But by the standards of the collapse era, most of them were low in civic awareness.

Still, unlike the old South Korean military that strictly discriminated between pure-blooded Jeju natives and those from the Corps, the Skull Brigade accepted anyone willing to fight on the battlefield and shoot down unarmed fanatics—regardless of whether they were raiders or not.

In the early days, they endured brutal and hopeless battles. But as their power grew and the number of fanatics dwindled, their operations turned into organized massacres.

Now, they do to fellow Koreans what they used to do to fanatics.

I don't like it, but Necropolis—the only real community left for people nowadays—is filled with live commentary about the Skull Brigade.

Dead553: They went off again yesterday.

Dead3281: They tied people up like dried fish and hung them from rooftops.

Dead21488: They suddenly popped a grenade and threw it through a window. Just because they thought someone might be inside.

Dead7721: Their eyes are all fried. Must be on drugs or something.

Dead88132: That Hong Jeong-ho bastard. Didn’t he used to be a famous serial killer on Viva?

Dead7711: I saw them playing with people using drones yesterday. Just to kill them.

Dead12213: They just hate people. Especially Koreans.

...

...

This whole flow feels like... it’s missing the point.

Yes, the Skull Brigade is brutal.

We knew that from the beginning, back when they were still protecting us from the fanatics.

But that’s not what matters right now.

The Skull Brigade is just a hunting dog.

And the leash holding that dog? That’s Jeon Si-hoon.

And yet, you rarely see anyone talk about Jeon Si-hoon.

It’s not that they don’t know.

They know Jeon Si-hoon is the root of the problem—but they avoid mentioning him.

Because admitting it would mean denying the past version of themselves who once idolized the hero Jeon Si-hoon.

Plenty of people still look at Jeon Si-hoon with rose-tinted glasses.

Even Kim Daram’s husband does.

"But he’s the one who protected us, right? I mean... things are just bad right now. I’m sure it’ll work itself out with time."

The truth is simple.

The Awakened faction led by Jeon Si-hoon—armed with the Skull Brigade as his private army—has taken control of New Seoul. They've seized all infrastructure and logistics and built a kingdom upon it.

We don’t know much about that kingdom yet, but I know it will be a kingdom of the Awakened.

Jeon Si-hoon said it himself.

That he would build a nation where the Awakened are nobility.

He hasn’t bared his fangs yet. But once the outer zones stabilize, he’ll try to construct a full-blown Awakened aristocracy.

I shared this with the people around me.

They looked at me like I’d lost it.

Especially Kim Daram’s husband, who, of all of us, had the longest string of academic degrees, scoffed and said:

"C’mon. That kind of thing doesn’t fly these days. People are more educated now. Just because someone has power doesn’t mean they get to be nobles while the rest become peasants."

"But wasn’t that always how the world worked?"

Cheon Young-jae, who’d been quiet, dropped that line casually.

Kim Daram’s husband turned to him.

"If you’ve got money, you’re a noble. If you don’t, you’re a peasant. Isn’t that how it was?"

He laid it out plainly.

When Kim Daram’s husband frowned at the bluntness, Cheon Young-jae grinned and added:

"Oh, and for the record? I was an upper-class noble. Though... I was illegitimate."

Cheon Young-jae and the Kim Daram family don’t get along.

Not that Cheon Young-jae gets along with anyone.

If you knew the kind of crap he pulled before ending up under my command, it’d be easy to understand.

Back in the day, I probably would’ve just watched from the sidelines. But not now.

"People who lived by the rules—what the government and society encouraged—were the ones who got screwed the worst."

Kim Daram and her husband looked at me strangely.

I had more to say.

"The one thing they told you not to do—prepping a bunker—was exactly what let me live well for years."

Kim Daram looked around.

Probably checking for her son.

Thankfully, Dongtak was in another room.

I glanced around, organizing my thoughts.

"What matters is this: things are only going to get worse."

As public safety collapses and conflict deepens, the fallout will reach us too.

Just remember how even my bunker, far from Seoul, started to fill with refugees.

This place—just across the river—is going to see even more people coming.

Bang!

Looking back now, I can’t understand why I used to flinch so hard at the sound of Rebecca’s gunshots.

Out here, gunfire’s a daily background noise.

Fights and skirmishes break out between people who got here first and those trying to move in.

It’s rarely because people want to fight.

They just have no choice. Resources are scarce. People know it’s risky, but they still raise their weapons.

Even our golf course has seen constant territorial incursions lately.

The colder it gets, the more people come trying to harvest grass near our bunker.

So far, a cautious glare was enough to send them away—but who knows how long that’ll last?

No way this uneasy peace continues forever.

Anyway, while we’re bleeding ourselves dry surviving day by day, M9 is out there in Jeju... just living it up.

mmmmmmmmm: Jeju wall.jpg

mmmmmmmmm: Abandoned houses in Jeju

mmmmmmmmm: Jeju Moai.jpg

mmmmmmmmm: Today’s lunch (feat. salmon)

mmmmmmmmm: Why’s nobody posting? I’m bored.

mmmmmmmmm: I’m seriously dying of boredom~ Why’s it so peaceful here!?

...

...

Our forum has basically turned into M9’s personal diary.

It wasn’t super active before, but now it’s practically dead—and I think I know why.

People are sick of him.

Sure, Jeju’s reputation has taken a hit lately, but in the minds of collapse-era citizens, it’s still that dreamlike paradise. And now that the mainland has become a cutthroat battleground, Jeju’s once again regained its image as an idyllic haven.

I get it.

Our forum buddies like to act chill, but they’re surprisingly petty.

Even someone like me, with myth-tier status, feels a twinge of envy toward M9. So yeah, 100% confirmed.

But we all know he’s not going to end well.

In the short term, yeah, we’re the ones getting screwed.

The battle between Jeon Si-hoon and the other survivors will rage on, and the refugee flood will lead to chain reactions—maybe even inside our territory.

But long-term? Completely different story.

We may be surrounded by flammable material, but there's not enough of it to burn everything down.

A few sparks might catch, sure, but it won’t wipe us out.

The only thing that could end us would be a large-scale monster incursion.

Jeju, on the other hand...

Desperate people—countless numbers—will flood it like waves.

They don’t speak the same language. And they’re less open to compromise than we are.

Park Penguin’s reply under one of M9’s posts felt like a foreboding omen of the tragedy waiting for him.

Anonymous458: That building... kinda looks like The Hope, doesn’t it?

He was referring to a tall steel structure M9 had photographed. He named the building after the one that made M9 famous: The Hope.

The thing looked like a wind turbine frame—construction frozen halfway through, a tower with scaffolding and planks slapped on top like a makeshift apartment.

Park Penguin must’ve seen the slab-sided silhouette and thought of The Hope.

It was a sharp comment—but M9 replied cheerfully.

mmmmmmmmm: The Hope. Yeah. Good times. Probably the best days of my life.

Anonymous458: ...Are you serious?

mmmmmmmmm: Yep. Dead serious. I’ve never felt more alive than when I was living there.

Anonymous458: Huh...

Watching their exchange, I finally confirmed a suspicion I’d had for a while.

That bastard M9.

He’s the same breed as me.

Just like me, he wanted to be in the spotlight. Wanted to be at the center of the storm.

Yeah, internet broadcasting opened the door for any idiot to chase attention, but we knew—

Only a select few ever really got it.

“......”

I hesitated.

Should I say something to M9?

No. Forget it.

I already did everything I could, back then.

I offered him a spot by my side.

He turned it down.

And if I can’t even help Rebecca and her daughter—who are in contact with me and struggling—how could I help someone on Jeju?

*

Peace built on a balance of power is always broken the moment that balance shifts.

When someone stronger shows up in a neighborhood of weaklings, the order inevitably restructures around that power.

And someone stronger just showed up here, too.

“To those living around the golf course—mind if we have a word? Nothing serious. Just hoping we can be friendly. If you don’t have a radio, we’ll give you one.”

A diesel vehicle armored with plating circled the area, broadcasting its message—clearly flexing its influence.

Calling it a friendly gesture was just a cover. What they wanted was submission.

A power audit is the first thing the strong do to establish dominance.

We could ignore them, but there's no reason to provoke a fight with someone stronger than us.

Having someone more powerful nearby is uncomfortable, yeah. But this isn’t some remote wasteland. Sooner or later, someone exiled from the center of power will show up here too.

Better to build a relationship early.

Cheon Young-jae, whose face isn’t well-known, approached them. He came back with a report.

“You know Minsik?”

“That scavenger leader?”

“Yeah. Apparently, this group used to be with him. Looks like they lost big in Seoul and ended up here.”

“What about Minsik?”

“Sounds like he’s dead.”

“Damn.”

Cheon Young-jae shook a K-WalkieTalkie in his hand.

Judging by its condition, it wasn’t stock. Looked like it had been modded—probably reprogrammed with a unique ID code.

He warned us not to rely on the battery. Said it’s better connected to a capacitor or something.

While we spent our days in this uneasy quiet, M9 kept posting cheerful photos from Jeju.

They didn’t go over well.

Zero replies.

You could sum it up in two words: "No replies."

At first, the last few remaining users on our board showed interest in M9’s return and his updates. But after enough of his pathological bragging, they activated our board’s traditional response—collective silence.

One user, though, hit him with a sharp question.

Dies_irae69: M9. Are you... anxious?

Of all people, it was this guy—who seemed the happiest after New Seoul collapsed—who came closest to the truth.

M9, clearly desperate for comments, ignored the message entirely.

“......”

I decided I couldn’t stay quiet anymore.

tak tak tak

I sent him a message.

For my friend in spirit.

SKELTON: M9.

SKELTON: How is it over there, really? Are things actually dangerous? Look, I’ve got some connections to Kim Soo-uk.

SKELTON: I don’t know if he’d listen, but want me to reach out? It’s not exactly safe here either, but if you can make it back to Incheon... I’ll come pick you up.

This isn’t like me.

The me from the Professor days would never do this.

But like they say—I’ve changed.

Even I can feel the change in myself.

Maybe it’s because I instinctively resist someone like Kang Han-min, who’s even less human than I am. But at the very least, I won’t just sit back and watch someone I care about spiral toward ruin.

Time passed, heavy and still.

Then M9’s messages lit up my screen.

mmmmmmmmm: lol

mmmmmmmmm: You bastard...

SKELTON: M9?

mmmmmmmmm: You seriously forget who I am, Skelton?

SKELTON: ?

mmmmmmmmm: (The Hope) — I’m Captain M9!

That was the last conversation we ever had.

I sent a few more messages afterward, but M9 never replied.

Before long, he vanished from the board.

*

As always, change came on a date no one expected.

The mercury dipped below freezing for the first time.

Every nearby survivor group, relaxed and taking their time preparing for winter, suddenly scrambled in panic—hoarding and burning anything flammable they could find.

Even I wasn’t exempt. Even Dongtak, whom Kim Daram guarded like a treasure, got dragged out for a full day of hard labor.

We returned to the bunker exhausted, and I sat down in front of the computer.

And then—I saw it.

A post that caught my eye like fate.

Anonymous424: Hey, take a look at this.

One of the few remaining board users uploaded a photo.

It matched something in our memories exactly.

Among the scenic photos of Jeju that M9 had uploaded, there was one showing a half-finished, leaning wind turbine.

The same one Park Penguin had said looked like The Hope.

Atop the tower—tiny as an ant, but unmistakably human—stood a person.

For details, Anonymous424 cited a post from the Japanese board.

112dormars: A strange man spotted in Jeju!

– Unbelievable, but someone was living up there.

In that weird structure that looks ready to collapse at any moment!

In another photo posted by a Japanese user, a bearded man with a friendly smile looked straight at the camera.

Thinner cheeks, grown-out beard—but no doubt about it.

That was our board buddy, M9.

A different Japanese user posted a more detailed update.

kasuga_beta: Seems like he was abandoned when the Korean military pulled out of the city. Poor guy.

M9 was left behind.

Which... yeah, makes sense.

Kim Soo-uk’s the kind of guy who would leave a man behind without blinking. He sent millions to their deaths.

But maybe... it turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

Other Japanese comments followed:

mota.sakurada: Amazing guy. If you saw how fast he climbs that tower, you’d freak out. Not human.

pinkpansa: A friend of mine who played Viva said someone like that lived in Seoul back in the day. Could it really be the same person?

Anonymous4823: I saw it too. Living up there is insane, sure—but the crazier part? He’s not even scared. He looks totally calm.

M9 had become a legend.

Among the Japanese refugees—the very people we used to call Wae-gu in fear—he became a myth.

One Japanese user captured their perspective simply:

Nguyen_3218: Our leader...

– If he sees a Korean, man or woman, young or old, he kills them on sight. His wife and son were killed by the Korean navy. So when he heard about the man living in the tower, he went to kill him. But when he saw the guy—living in that thing that looked like it’d collapse any second—he just stood there, frozen. Later, I saw him crying. I asked if he was going to kill him. He said, “Let’s go back.” And told me to leave some food down there on the way out.

M9—a name that had become old news to us—was something new to them.

And yeah, M9 does have that power. He draws out something primal in people.

Living on the edge like that, in a place that could collapse at any moment, makes even the most hardened hearts reflect on what life means.

“......”

I stared for a long while at the image of M9 standing among the Japanese.

I don’t know if he has a satellite device anymore.

He probably lost it.

Someone walked in.

It was Cheon Young-jae, probably here to switch out for the night shift.

“He’s smiling, huh?”

He said it as he looked at M9.

I nodded and gave a quiet thumbs-up toward the screen.

Of course. That’s M9 for you.

My internet friend was never ordinary.

He managed to pull off a regression—returning to the past—but at a much higher difficulty.

Only someone like that could be my rival.

The man who lives in the tower.

That’s M9’s new nickname now.

I slung my gun over my shoulder and stepped outside the bunker for my watch.

The air was sharp and cold.

Jeju’s probably warmer than here.

I hope it is.

So he can survive the winter.