Message from mmmmmmmmm: Issho ni osake nomu ka? (Shall we drink sake together?)

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Issho ni biru nomu ka? (Shall we drink beer together?)

SKELTON: (?)

Message from mmmmmmmmm: I’ve traveled to Japan a bit.

SKELTON: Really?

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Even before the yen dropped. I went whenever I had the chance—been almost everywhere except a few spots. I even went as far as Shimonoseki.

SKELTON: Hm.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: I never formally studied Japanese, but thanks to my travels, I learned how to deal with Japanese people.

SKELTON: (understanding) I see.

That was M9 for you.

Tough as a cockroach—meant as the highest praise.

People’s feelings change easily.

Time corrodes even the most enduring love or friendship, and can eventually destroy them completely.

So, relationships built on nothing more than passing interest or casual goodwill don’t last.

Even couples brought together by some extraordinary event often don’t go the distance—such is the nature of time.

M9 had sparked interest and curiosity among the Japanese as the eccentric who lived atop a wind turbine, but his fate was tied to people who weren’t ordinary Japanese—people who had fought Koreans to the death in the brutal arena of survival.

That was why I’d been pessimistic about his future.

He might survive for a while.

The problem was always what came after.

For the first day or two, maybe even a month, they’d leave him alone—but eventually the novelty would wear off, and they’d return to their original baseline: hatred for Koreans.

When I’d seen M9 appear in posts by Japanese users, I’d figured he’d be dead within a hundred days.

I was completely wrong.

M9 had gone beyond simply being “the interesting guy.” He’d used his people skills—and the oldbie knowledge of Viva! Apocalypse!—to earn genuine friendship from them.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Viva! Apocalypse! never really spread in Japan.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Those ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ who had it early on either got killed by their neighbors or had their devices confiscated, so there were only a handful of users left.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: But after they started raiding the world like old-school wakō, they stumbled across Viva! Apocalypse! again and got curious.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Still, how many of them would know the board like we do? I became the senior vet, taught them the functions, the history, the famous names.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Like they say—late-learned thievery is terrifying. Once they got a taste of this “new” thing, they were hooked.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Newbies or not, they’ve got that Japanese-style humor. Their banter’s no joke.

I had a question—not exactly in line with the flow of conversation, but important to me.

SKELTON: (suspicious) Famous names?

Mentioning “famous names” in front of the famous name—me—was almost taboo. Especially coming from someone like M9, who didn’t know his place.

A moment later—

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Yeah.

I felt a twinge of foreboding.

SKELTON: You mean me, right?

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Nope.

SKELTON: ?

Message from mmmmmmmmm: I’m the famous one.

SKELTON: ??

Message from mmmmmmmmm: ?

I took my hands off the keyboard.

“This bastard...”

He was still burning with some ridiculous rivalry against me.

Did he really not grasp that we weren’t even in the same league anymore?

Anyway—at least he was alive and doing well.

I got to the point.

SKELTON: How’s Jeju these days?

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Well, I’ve been staying in New Hope, so...

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Definitely feels like the fighting’s died down a bit. A month ago there were jets and helicopters flying around—now it’s just the occasional drone, if that. Nothing in the sky.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Who would’ve thought Jeju would end up without a single bird?

True enough.

Even when I’d been there, there hadn’t been a single bird—or even a cat. Everything had been culled to prevent mutations.

Bird mutations are rarer than mammalian ones, but when they happen—like the mutant owl I fought—they’re a real pain.

Especially crows. They’re not that lethal, but they threaten human survival in other ways: stealing dried food, lurking in the dark to snatch small women or children.

In China, there was even a report of a flock of mutant crows opening windows with their beaks, slaughtering an entire family, and feasting on them.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: One thing’s for sure—Kim So-uk, that bastard...

Message from mmmmmmmmm: He’s gonna die soon.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: No—he has to die. That piece of human garbage.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Tosses other people’s families aside without a thought, but his own are precious? Guys like that don’t deserve to live.

M9 had been abandoned by Kim So-uk.

I knew Kim So-uk well enough never to expect anything from him—but M9 had gone out of his way to cozy up to him.

And then, when he was no longer useful, he’d been tossed aside like trash.

I could imagine the level of humiliation M9 had suffered before being cut loose—probably plenty of public insults mixed in.

Kim So-uk was the type who’d never tell someone to their face to leave—he’d just heap on the petty abuses until you left on your own, like a black-company exec pushing an employee out without saying it outright.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: The Japanese know his name now. I told them.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Told them he’s the root of all evil.

Yeah—no wonder even easygoing M9 was seething.

The important part came next.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: The “captain”? You mean Reporter Guy?

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Mm... not easy.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Lately, with all the bodies washing up, every kind of mutation has been swarming into Jeju’s waters.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: You’ve got the famous whale mutations, but also shark mutations, octopus mutations—real sea monsters lurking in the black water, looking for a chance to sink ships and kill people.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: But the real problem is pirates. Japanese factions aren’t unified—there are over ninety allied groups active just around Jeju. They’ll chase down any ship they spot and seize it.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Reporter Guy might turn the tables if it came to a fight, but at sea? Who knows. Plenty of pirates are ex-SDF deserters—some even make their own torpedoes.

In short—

Message from mmmmmmmmm: I don’t recommend the sea route.

Message from mmmmmmmmm: But the air? That’s different. I think the sky’s the only real escape.

Planes...

That wasn’t possible.

Jeju Airport was destroyed.

I told him so.

SKELTON: Even if there’s an aircraft, there’s no runway. Helicopters are out too.

That’s the truth.

Planes are fast and convenient, but they require massive resources and conditions.

Or so I thought—

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Can’t you just cobble something together?

SKELTON: ?

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Like, convert a biplane or something.

SKELTON: You think that’s possible?

Message from mmmmmmmmm: Yeah.

SKELTON: ?

Message from mmmmmmmmm: [link]

It was a link to a popular post on the suddenly booming Japanese-language board—most of whose users were killers and raiders.

And yet, this post was oddly romantic for such an audience.

yamazaki_hiro: Dream of the Sky

The post included photos—one of which showed the author beside a biplane.

Not any model I’d ever seen before—because it was homemade.

Canvas, plywood, and an electric car motor—the thing was crude, but it flew.

yamazaki_hiro: I almost crashed in turbulence, and without navigation gear I had to rely on a chronograph and compass—but I made it from Kyushu to Jeju.

yamazaki_hiro: It was a hard journey, but God helps those who help themselves.

The rest was a string of clichéd “human spirit triumph” lines I didn’t bother reading.

The important takeaway was that the sky wasn’t necessarily beyond our reach.

And there was someone else who might help with this “sky key”—

My old neighbor, Rebecca, and her daughter.

*

After the U.S. military survivors relocated near my bunker, Rebecca naturally joined them.

She was ex-military herself, so it made sense.

It was well-known that the U.S. group planned to return to America.

In the early days of the New Seoul government, they’d played a major role in taking down a General-type, then handed the government a hefty bill.

I’d seen with my own eyes the resources funneled their way.

And yet, they hadn’t left yet.

I kept in touch with Rebecca, but the further apart you are, the shallower the conversations get.

Then one day—

Message from US_ARMY_NO.1: Skelton, check this out!

Message from US_ARMY_NO.1: [attachment]

Didn’t recognize her username at first—she’d changed it.

I figured it was just her getting back to her “official” roots.

When I opened the file, I let out a low whistle.

A dirigible.

Message from US_ARMY_NO.1: After some trial and error, we finally made a prototype.

Message from US_ARMY_NO.1: We’re going to use it to get back to the States.

I nodded.

If you have a home you love, maybe going back is the only salvation.

The long-controversial U.S. soldiers were now planning to use a slightly archaic method to get there.

Her leaving was worrying and a bit sad—but their plan might give me an idea for getting Min-hee back to Seoul.

So I asked—

SKELTON: Not a dirigible, but could you make something like a balloon to get from Jeju to Seoul?

Even I knew it was unlikely.

Min-hee wasn’t the type to sew up a hot-air balloon herself.

Even if it worked, getting it to Seoul in one piece was another matter.

Message from US_ARMY_NO.1: Oh, I’ve got plenty of materials. From the latest light transport airships to the hot-air balloon the Strelzyk family used to escape East Germany—everything.

Message from US_ARMY_NO.1: We’ve even got atmospheric data for Korea.

Message from US_ARMY_NO.1: Building the airship was quick—the airflow analysis took forever.

Message from US_ARMY_NO.1: If you want it, I’ll get it for you. You saved our lives, Skelton!

For some reason, Rebecca seemed in great spirits.

Sue was probably watching from beside her.

Soon she sent over the files—an impressively thorough collection, from academic papers to amateur forum ideas.

Ironically, it was the detail that killed the dream.

The romantic notion of “maybe she could escape by balloon” crumbled under the sheer complexity of atmospheric flow patterns and the reality that a hot-air balloon has no way to solve problems midair.

“...”

Honestly, even I couldn’t pull it off.

Rebecca got my thanks anyway.

Message from US_ARMY_NO.1: Come visit sometime!

Message from US_ARMY_NO.1: I want to see you before we leave.

Message from US_ARMY_NO.1: (Sue) Me too!

I nodded as I typed my promise.

SKELTON: (agreement)

But the problem had circled back to square one—

How to get Woo Min-hee out of Jeju.

After thinking it over, the answer still lay in the sea.

A small boat was out of the question—she’d just end up fish food.

But with a strong fleet?

If we had the help of a powerful maritime force, one with enough skill to rival the Japanese refugee fleets...

There was one such person I knew.

A true veteran of the seas.

“...”

Tap, tap.

SKELTON: Sunbae-nim. Long time no see.

The recipient: Dongtanmom.

No—she’d changed her name to Daechimom.

My senior, Baek Seung-hyun.