Things going smoothly is certainly better than dragging on.

Message from foxgames: You’re saying you’ll come here?

Message from foxgames: Fine.

But when things go too smoothly, it’s worth being cautious in its own right.

Especially when it comes to dealings between people—when things progress too easily, that alone is a red flag.

Message from foxgames: But there’s something I need you to do.

Message from foxgames: It won’t be anything too hard :)

My original plan for entering Foxgames’ bunker was half-forced to begin with.

Even if I didn’t get an invitation, I was planning to go there and knock on the door.

According to that plan, Foxgames should already be dead by now, and what we’d be doing is just popping the bottlecap—figuring out how to get inside the bunker, nothing more.

I’ve personally designed and built a bunker. In this field, I’m something of a specialist.

Even if Foxgames is still alive, the overall plan doesn’t change much.

We’d go over there, apply some pressure with a show of force, then use our acquaintance as leverage to make him reluctantly open the door. Just one more tiresome step added to the mix.

But this reunion with Foxgames—he’s strangely welcoming, arms wide open.

Even though he hinted that he had some annoying tasks he wanted us to do, accepting not just me but also complete strangers, one of whom even has a child? That’s something the Foxgames I knew would never agree to.

“...”

Still.

Message from foxgames: You don’t know the way?

Message from foxgames: Fine. Tell me the address. I’ll set the GPS for you.

Message from foxgames: Hurry up and send it.

Maybe it’s because it’s been a while since we last messaged.

Or maybe it’s Foxgames’ oddly cooperative attitude that’s making me feel this sense of wrongness.

There’s something off about our conversation. It doesn’t feel natural.

The Foxgames I knew wasn’t like this.

Especially after my true identity was exposed, he didn’t hesitate to flaunt his petty, snide attitude to the fullest.

That’s what my experience tells me.

Honestly, every time I talked to Foxgames, I found myself clenching my fists without even realizing it.

But now, there’s no need to do that.

That says something about the gap between the Foxgames I used to know and the one I’m speaking to now.

When the silence dragged on, maybe even Foxgames noticed the awkwardness, because he suddenly started offering up unprompted information.

Message from foxgames: Oh, I’m acting different than usual, huh?

You’re damn right.

But again, the Foxgames I knew would never have considered how he came off to others, let alone admitted it.

Message from foxgames: Truth is, I’m not doing so great health-wise. I’ve been hanging in there with narcotic painkillers. That’s why I’m messaging you myself, but I might be a little out of it.

Ah. So that’s what was going on.

Message from foxgames: But it’s not fatal. Most of what I’m saying is sincere, so you don’t need to worry :)

“Hmph.”

I lifted my hands off the keyboard.

The world is falling apart.

A single person within that collapsing world going strange—it’s only natural.

I’ve got enough to worry about already, so I closed the conversation and began prepping to leave.

SKELTON: Okay.

This won’t be an easy trip.

Late last night, sharp gunfire rang out from the direction of the Minsik faction’s base.

It wasn’t a long exchange, but those of us in the bunker understood exactly what that gunfire meant.

“A skirmish.”

“Testing the waters.”

Cheon Young-jae and Kim Daram.

Both of them have their flaws, but in battle, there’s no one more dependable.

*

I’m not a big fan of brute-force breakthroughs, but when there’s no other way, sometimes you have to power through.

I’m the one driving.

Kim Daram’s husband could’ve taken the wheel, but in a mission where the vehicle is the most critical asset, the most skilled and experienced person should handle it.

Personally, I consider myself an excellent driver.

I hold licenses for large vehicles and heavy equipment, officially recognized by the state. I even handled several vehicle-based missions in the Chinese war zones, taking the wheel myself.

In vehicle-based operations, I believe balance matters more than speed.

Once it flips, it’s game over. Even if it’s slower, it’s ideal for the vehicle to stay stable and roll on its wheels all the way to the destination. That’s what every driver in these situations should aim for.

The scavengers have set up makeshift outposts on the roof of the bus—one at the front, one at the back.

They’re not really defensive bunkers, just piles of sandbags and sheet metal, but rooftop posts like these serve more for reconnaissance and tactical firing positions than actual protection.

I placed Kim Daram at the rear and Cheon Young-jae up front.

Kim Daram’s husband and Dongtak waited inside the vehicle, fully prepped to resupply the combatants above at any moment.

Loading the cargo was also a crucial part of the prep.

We’re carrying nearly a ton of freight.

Mostly food and fuel—our lifeline for surviving the winter.

Weapons and ammunition make up a small portion.

We never stockpiled a ton of arms in our bunker to begin with.

We did some small trades with the scavengers, but we don’t have enough to sustain prolonged combat.

If a full-on battle breaks out, our ammo will run out quick.

Between me and Cheon Young-jae, we each only have about 25 rounds—basically one magazine per rifle. Kim Daram brought three magazines.

We’ve got over nine spare magazines if you count bullets, but in reality, we’ve got fewer than 150 usable rounds.

Some of our firearms are Chinese-made.

I’d rather not use mixed-caliber weapons, but we don’t have many options right now.

Gone are the days in the bunker when we could afford the luxury of using only 5.56mm.

The scavenger merchants tried selling us North Korean-made weapons, but we turned those down.

North Korean guns are notoriously unreliable. Worse, some of their bullets are “self-detonating.”

Literally, when the trigger is pulled, the round explodes in the chamber—killing the user or, at the very least, blowing out an eye.

Some say the NIS distributed them, while others claim the U.S. did it in Vietnam and is now doing it to eliminate North Korean arms from lawless zones.

By comparison, Chinese rifles are the lesser evil.

Contrary to popular belief, Chinese military rifles are actually decent.

They’re just hard to get used to. But since they’re made by East Asians for East Asians, they don’t feel completely alien to use.

Still, their value is low despite decent performance. That’s not just due to prejudice against hostile-nation weapons, but also because of one key factor: there just aren’t many compatible bullets in circulation.

Getting legitimate Chinese military-marked rounds is insanely hard.

I got a small batch from a thug I met early in the war. These days, the stuff you find is mostly unstable, homemade ammo.

That’s what we have too—homemade.

But judging by the tight crimp on the casings, it looks like it was made with proper tooling. Better than most, at least.

Anyway, with that gear, we’re ready to depart.

We set off at dawn.

Meaning, we’ll be traveling in broad daylight.

If we were going on foot, it’d be safer to leave in the evening and move under cover of night. But roads during the collapse are full of obstacles, and the surfaces are terrible.

Especially with a beat-up vehicle like this one—you have to treat it like a baby to get even the 30km guaranteed by the mechanic.

Besides, once we’re in a vehicle, we can’t avoid being noticed.

Since our presence is already known, it’s smarter to stay upright, scout ahead, and strike preemptively if needed than to crouch and hide poorly.

“Yes. There was a shootout yesterday. Some reckless bastards came in from the ruined route and fired at our outer post.”

The guide Minsik’s people assigned told us about the previous night’s shootout.

He said it casually, but his face and tone made it obvious he was hiding something.

No need to press him.

That group might take a serious hit in a few days anyway.

But leaving isn’t just about avoiding human conflict.

It’s about something beyond that.

“...”

The air was clearer and colder than usual, clean enough to reveal the northern mountains we always could see, but never chose to look at.

Ash-gray snow had already crept down from the ridgeline, covering the mid-slopes.

The erosion zone we had once driven back with our lives was spreading again.

It would soon engulf this place.

“Shall we go?”

Kim Daram asked.

Her family, the people she loves, stood behind her, silently watching me.

I nodded and climbed into the vehicle.

“Let’s go.”

No reason to hesitate.

Brrrrrrrrng---

The engine’s dying heart made an ominous sound, even a rookie could hear how unstable it was as it sputtered to life.

In the distance, our ever-watchful neighbors were lined up, staring at us.

“Let’s move.”

The guide from Minsik’s faction led the way on a scooter.

Unlike our barely functioning vehicle, the scooter’s engine purred healthily as it zipped over the rugged terrain.

I stepped on the gas.

Slowly, the scenery began to shift—the land we had briefly called home receding behind us.

“Phew. It’s a shame.”

Kim Daram’s voice came through the comms.

She was seated on the rear roof lookout.

I checked the back through the mirror.

Our former neighbors were already swarming into the now-abandoned perimeter.

“Hey!”

Someone shouted.

“There’s a bunker here, fuck!”

“Huh? It’s real?”

“I knew something was off about those bastards!”

“This is ours now! Let’s use it all!”

Cheers erupted.

And with them, I heard Kim Daram sigh.

I spoke toward her.

“Don’t be regretful.”

Honestly, it does sting a little.

Watching people I don’t even like benefit from something we built.

But there was a reason we left that place behind.

“Let’s come back next spring.”

“Next spring?”

“Yeah. Just to see how many of them are still alive.”

Kim Daram snorted.

“Cursing others just makes them thrive, you know?”

If she knows that, why was she so nasty to Woo Min-hee?

I almost said it. The words reached my throat.

But I held them back.

“...”

Yeah. We’ve grown.

As Skelton. As Park Gyu.

I savored the bitter yet meaningful realization and stared down the unpaved road stretching ahead.

The journey had only just begun.

*

We made it to the bridge without incident.

The vehicle held up, and the guide hired by Minsik’s group—who they paid a hefty sum for—had so far carried out his duties diligently.

The problem came after that.

And we could already tell before even getting close to the bridge.

Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

Boom! Boom!

There was heavy combat happening to the south.

This wasn’t just rifle fire—we could hear machine guns, even the thudding impact of mortars. It was clearly a full-scale battle.

“Hang tight for a second. Things are looking rough down there.”

The ones occupying the bridge were another survivor group allied with Minsik’s faction.

Didn’t look like a particularly classy bunch.

Their twitchy grins, the way they eyed us up and down like they were gauging something, and on top of that, the reek of alcohol on their breath.

From inside a ragged checkpoint cobbled together with tarps, we could hear a man shouting obscenities—probably joking around—and a woman’s high-pitched laughter following after.

The bridge itself wasn’t in great condition.

Back when New Seoul still stood, it had already been cut off. What was left now was a makeshift pontoon bridge—boats strung together in a crude, unstable path.

As far as I knew, it wasn’t Minsik’s group who made this, but a rival faction who’d been forced into doing it through gritted teeth.

I was seeing it for the first time now, but just as I expected, the state of it was far from ideal.

Still, this was the only route across the Han River that was even remotely safe.

Farther west, there’s the old submerged subway tunnel—what they call the Hajeo Tunnel—but that’s strictly off-limits.

Even before the war, it had been flooded. After draining it with pumps, they found hundreds of capsules packed into the emptied space.

If that had been above ground and low-value, it probably would've been shelled to oblivion. But the Hajeo Tunnel was considered a vital structure for Seoul’s reconstruction.

The plan was to leave it sealed until New Seoul had grown strong enough to handle it, then start clearing it capsule by capsule.

But before they could even get around to opening it, New Seoul fell first.

Some fanatics hid themselves in that tunnel. Defender had a hell of a time dealing with them.

In the end, they laced both ends of the tunnel with countless landmines and began flushing it with toxic gas. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

You could technically still pass through it now, but not with a vehicle.

Only on foot—and only if you’re prepared to die.

In my case, maybe the difficulty wouldn’t be «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» as high as for others.

Anyway, the fighting dragged on.

Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

From noon into the late afternoon, the gunfire and shelling never stopped.

While the man and woman who’d been loitering at the checkpoint laughed and clocked out, replaced by a new pair, the battle continued without pause.

By afternoon, we could see multiple drones sweeping across the sky.

“A final act of desperation.”

The man guarding the bridge spoke, a foul-smelling cigarette clamped in his mouth.

“They know that even if they retreat, they’ll end up worse off than the factions still hanging on in Incheon. So they’re trying to team up and push out Jeon Si-hoon’s lot.”

He gave a snort of laughter.

“Won’t take much longer now.”

Probably not.

I could feel it, even from a distance.

Not with my ears—not through sound. But through something not part of my body, yet clearly a part of me—an internal organ that responded to distant tremors.

Boom!

A massive shockwave rippled through me.

If my guess was right, that was Jeon Si-hoon.

He had entered the battle.

Maybe that’s why, as evening fell, the ceaseless barrage of gunfire and explosions finally went quiet.

A clear lull, obvious even to outsiders.

“I think you can go now. Let’s at least get across the river before sunset. Who knows what’ll happen tomorrow.”

I nodded.

They say south of the river is dangerous, but crossing it today was the right move.

Tomorrow, there was no guarantee we’d even have the chance.

And more importantly—those guarding this bridge might change their minds.

We’d stay near the bridge tonight, then cut through Seoul proper tomorrow at dawn.

Before crossing, I checked the laptop.

It was connected to the forum through the satellite unit.

I took one last look at the screen before we left.

Several new messages from Foxgames had come in.

Message from foxgames: Yo~ Skelton~!

Message from foxgames: Where you at now?

Message from foxgames: Why no reply? Don’t tell me you’re already asleep? :)

“Isn’t it a bit early to be asleep?”

Cheon Young-jae, peering at the monitor with me, muttered gruffly.

I nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. Not quite sleep time yet.”

A flicker of unease passed through my mind.

“...”

But there was something more urgent now.

I turned toward the road ahead, swallowed in darkness.

“Who lives past that point?”

I asked the man managing the bridge.

He took a long drag of his cigarette, savoring it.

“This area’s our turf, but beyond that—no one’s claimed it.”

He grinned.

“Good luck.”