Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 75.1: Lover (1)

For the first time in a while, I slept deeply.

How long had it been?

I couldn’t remember the last time I had such a sweet, restful sleep.

My body and mind felt light, as if the weight of exhaustion had finally lifted.

After washing my face and lightly rinsing my hair, I checked the temperature.

-22 degrees Celsius.

It had warmed up a little.

I did some light stretching, brewed a steaming cup of coffee, and went on my usual patrol around the area.

Outside, sleet was swirling in the wind.

There weren’t any noticeable changes, but I made sure to meticulously check every corner.

I inspected all the decoy bunkers, thoroughly searched the container house, and carefully swept through the cabin.

After completing the patrol, it was time to fetch water.

The method was straightforward: breaking the ice over the creek and loading it onto the motorcycle.

Today, I planned to bathe, so I cut two rectangular slabs of ice and loaded them onto the cart.

Once all the tasks were done, I opened the internet.

I was still banned from the message board.

But being banned didn’t mean I couldn’t read posts.

I just couldn’t comment or create any posts myself.

On PaleNet, however, I could write freely and enjoy my online life as I did before.

With a quiet slurp, I scrolled through the daily posts.

Occasionally, there were begging posts, but their frequency had noticeably decreased.

Apparently, Vivabot had finally developed a proper macro.

Though it seemed reluctant to work, it still showed some level of competence befitting an employee of Melon Mask’s company. The quality of posts had certainly improved compared to before. Still, it was nothing like the completely clean days when Skelton—me—was in charge.

I’d already submitted an apology letter to Vivabot, though I wasn’t sure if it had read it.

Was it not sincere enough?

Not being able to post for three days was torture, but, strangely, my brief stint with authority had left me feeling refreshed.

It was like unclogging a long-blocked channel.

Like achieving a life milestone.

Perhaps... was it magnanimity?

This wasn’t a trait that particularly suited Park Gyu.

It had been a day and a half since Skelton was stripped of his badge, yet there were still people badmouthing me on the board.

Especially those I had banned—they were grinding their teeth in anger, spewing insults.

mmmmmmmmm: "Shouldn’t we permanently ban that Skelton bastard? Why isn’t he getting a lifetime ban?! Seriously, this fraud gets to play overlord with nothing to his name, pretending he’s some kind of oracle. Ugh, I want to drag him to my house and throw him out myself..."

Ridiculous.

This is Park Gyu they’re talking about. Sure, I made some minor blunders, but I’ve exchanged messages with Melon Mask and maintain a decent rapport with Vivabot.

I’ve been diligently writing apology letters, so I’ll be reinstated soon enough.

The source of this c𝓸ntent is frёeweɓηovel.coɱ.

Anyway, as I browsed the board, I noticed something unusual—there was a buzz today, unlike the usual humdrum.

Oddly enough, the name of a user I disliked was popping up frequently.

ㅇㅇ: "Dies Irae is incredible."

Anonymous424: "Wow, that’s practically a tank, isn’t it?"

ㅇㅇ: "There were raiders even in this winter, huh."

Anonymous458: "With so many people, they managed to take down those guys too. Amazing."

tntn_Orthopedics: "Murderers and robbers operating in -40 degrees Celsius? This place is grim enough without people like that. Can’t even light a proper fire now."

...

Judging by the context, it seemed to refer to the raiders on the snowcat that Woo Min-hee had mentioned to me yesterday.

Apparently, these snowcat raiders were somehow tied to Dies Irae.

What should I do?

Maybe I’ll lift their ban temporarily. Just for a moment.

There’s nothing else to do anyway. I could at least check out one of their posts, right?

I unbanned Dies Irae.

Sure enough, one of their fresh posts was trending in the popular section.

The post was titled: "Yesterday's Record.jpg" by Dies Irae69.

I clicked on it.

The photo showed a massive vehicle, blackened and scorched, with 12 wheels burned beyond recognition. Scattered around were mangled corpses, and standing tall amidst the carnage was Dies Irae’s group, lined up victoriously.

Below the photo was an explanation:

Dies Irae69:

"Even in -50 degrees Celsius, our survivalists never let their guard down. Around 5 a.m. yesterday, one of our members heard the deafening roar of an engine from the southwest and woke everyone up.

It turned out to be a snowcat, likely something repurposed from a ski resort. Watching it head straight for us, we figured they’d seen the smoke from our campfire during the night.

We immediately prepared for battle and set up an ambush. Among our stockpile, we had a Hyungung missile and a Panzerfaust-3. While the Hyungung seemed like overkill, the Panzerfaust-3 felt more appropriate.

Once they were within 50 meters, we launched the ambush. The result is in the photo."

I couldn’t deny it—regardless of his morality, Dies Irae was an experienced and skilled commander.

Waking up at dawn, assessing the situation, and decisively ambushing an unknown enemy—it wasn’t something just anyone could do.

An amateur leader would’ve either tried to negotiate foolishly or fumbled their way into retaliation only after taking a hit.

Though not explicitly mentioned in the post, Dies Irae’s tactical acumen couldn’t be ignored. In a time where both survivors and raiders had significantly leveled up, seeing such a one-sided victory between two armed groups was rare. From weapon choice to ambush positioning and battle command, his fingerprints were all over it.

A follow-up post appeared shortly after.

Dies Irae69:

"Prisoner Interrogation Results.txt"

This time, the photo depicted two men kneeling with their hands tied behind their backs, garbage bags covering their heads.

The interrogation details followed:

**"A light interrogation revealed just how brutal these bastards were. Apparently, they didn’t want anyone to know their methods, so they left no survivors.Their execution methods were horrifying: they’d tie up their victims, pour boiling water over them, and abandon them in the -40-degree wasteland. 'Boiling and cracking,' they called it."**

"Two of them managed to escape. They fled westward on a black snowmobile—one male and one female. It looked like they were unarmed, but don’t underestimate them. One seemed injured, but if you see anyone on a snowmobile, shoot them immediately."Click-clack.

I tried to leave a comment.

<Warning! SKELTON, you are currently banned!>

<21:42 remaining until ban lift!>

“...”

I sighed.

I had to admit, Dies Irae had accomplished something impressive this time.

He and his group had taken down a highly trained, well-equipped band of raiders numbering at least twenty. Even Woo Min-hee had described them as a significant threat.

Had those raiders gone in any direction other than towards Dies Irae, it’s possible the remaining forum members—already dwindling—could have been slaughtered. It might’ve even affected me.

I wanted to leave a simple thank-you comment, but since I was banned, there wasn’t much I could do.

With a resigned sigh, I re-banned Dies Irae and sent another apology letter to Vivabot.

SKELTON:

"As you know, it’s a fact that I made significant contributions to the survival of Melon Mask. I’ll also admit that I temporarily lost sight of reason and overstepped my authority.

However, please understand that during my tenure, I deleted six malicious posts per second and banned two toxic users from PaleNet every minute.

People make mistakes sometimes, don’t they? I was drunk! I’m sorry!

If you lift my ban, I promise to revitalize the forum with engaging content and exemplary participation."

It was my twelfth apology letter.

Surely, this level of sincerity should warrant forgiveness...

Why do they keep ignoring me? It’s making me anxious.

My fingers were itching to type.

Sure, I could switch to PaleNet, but I still preferred our forum.

As a backup plan, I decided to reach out to my neighbors.

First, I tried contacting Defender.

“Hmm?”

No answer.

He hadn’t responded yesterday either. Was something wrong?

Finally, a message arrived:

Defender:

"Sorry, been busy."

Judging by the prompt response, his personal safety didn’t seem to be in jeopardy.

With Defender unreachable, I decided to contact Rebecca instead. There was something I wanted to ask her.

“What? Didn’t we vote?”

I’d received 302 votes. Something felt off.

Of those, one was my own, 300 were mechanically generated from spare accounts, and I had no idea who the remaining vote belonged to. But what concerned me was the absence of four votes I’d expected from my usual supporters.

Back when I had authority, this detail wouldn’t have mattered much. But now that I’d been ousted, I couldn’t help but wonder.

"So it was 302 votes. Shouldn’t it be obvious we voted for you?" Rebecca asked.

"Not necessarily. I have a feeling none of you actually voted for me."

"Why?"

"Why, you ask...?"

I couldn’t bring myself to admit that 300 of those votes were fakes. While I struggled to come up with a deflection, a sudden gunshot rang out.

Bang!

The first shot came from outside, and a split-second later, another followed over the comms.

It was Rebecca’s group.

“Suе?”

Something was happening.

I could hear hurried footsteps and voices speaking English in the background before Rebecca came back on the comms.

“A snowmobile sped straight towards us. Suе fired a warning shot.”

“A snowmobile?”

“Yeah.”

“Put Suе on.”

The comms transferred to Suе, whose voice came through, colder than usual.

“Skelton.”

It was Suе.

Her tone was as icy as the weather.

“Suе...”

“Skelton, you’re embarrassing me.”

“Ah, let’s talk about that later. You said you saw a snowmobile, right?”

“Yeah. Two people were riding it, and they were heading toward Skelton’s direction.”

“...Really?”

Could it be the ones Dies Irae was talking about?

The possibility was pretty high.

Considering the rarity of a snowmobile, and the fact that there were two people on it...

“Did they shoot back?”

“No. As soon as they heard the gunfire, they took off.”

“Thanks, Sue.”

“I told my mom not to vote for Skelton.”

“What?!”

“...Skelton needs to get his act together.”

“Let’s talk about that later.”

After quickly cutting off the comms, I stepped out of the bunker.

I focused my gaze on the road leading to Rebecca and her daughter’s territory.

The snow had thickly covered the ground, blurring the line between the road and the snow-covered plains, but it was a flat area surrounded by valleys.

I checked the bunker’s connection.

I’d turned off the heating in the early morning, but white smoke was still rising in plumes.

The time was 7:22 AM.

It was early enough for visibility.

I couldn’t help but wonder if they were still alive.

According to Dies Irae, the snowmobile had fled a day ago.

Spending a whole day and night in this cold wasn’t an easy task.

I kept my gun ready, staying alert as I scanned the road.

Soon, a faint hum reached my ears.

It was the sound of a snowmobile engine.

The snowmobile, gliding through the snow as effortlessly as a dolphin, raced toward me.

I zoomed in with my observation equipment.

A black snowmobile, with a man and woman in winter gear, was speeding along.

There were no visible weapons.

At least it didn’t seem like they were carrying main firearms, like rifles.

The snowmobile, crossing my territory, suddenly veered in my direction and roared forward.

I looked up at the smoke still lingering in the sky.

So, they were coming because of that?

What should I do?

A single shot would easily send them running.

With a little more effort, I could draw them in closer and kill them all.

There was also another option.

This was directly connected to my currently damaged reputation on the board.

If I captured or hunted these snowmobile raiders and posted the process on the forum...

Wouldn’t it get a huge reaction?

This could be the perfect opportunity to make a comeback, to restore my position after being ousted from the throne.

“...”

No.

Let’s drop it.

Even though I wore the badge by resorting to some trickery, I had my limits.

At least I wouldn’t play games with human lives.

It might be better to just kill them cleanly.

I adjusted my firearm, setting it to semi-auto, and aimed at the approaching snowmobile.

Suddenly, my K-WalkieTalkie emitted a beeping sound.

It was on the public frequency.

The signal was close.

I let the sound play out.

“My girlfriend’s injured! Please, just let us stay for a moment! We don’t have any weapons! If you don’t trust us, you can cuff us! We won’t resist! Just please, save my girlfriend!”

What should I do?

I don’t have a habit of toying with people’s lives.

Once they’re confirmed to be enemies, we neutralize them immediately.

But right now, I was banned from the forum.

Which means I have some time.

Moreover, these people came from Dies Irae’s territory.

Dies Irae might be far from here now, but it looked like he moved his group from place to place, never staying in one spot for long.

We may not cross paths now, but if we ever did, he could become one of the most dangerous enemies I’d ever face.

It wouldn’t be a bad idea to gather a little information while I have the chance.

I took off my poncho, grabbed my gun, and climbed to the top of a small hill.

The snowmobile was charging directly at me.

The man appeared to be in his early twenties, and the woman looked to be around the same age.

The man was tall, though gaunt, and despite wearing thick clothes, his arms and neck were covered in tattoos that crept up to his face. He didn’t seem to carry any weapons.

The woman looked similar.

Her face was bruised, but she seemed to have a fair amount of healing, though it was clear she had light lacerations.

The more serious issue was the signs of frostbite.

The man had no feeling in the tip of his nose, and the woman couldn’t feel her toes.

I didn’t think it was my place to make decisions about amputations, so I just gave them some cheap ointment.

For a meal, I served them a soup made only from chicken stock.

The location was a camouflaged container box.

Of course, I had no intention of showing them my real home.

But at least, because I’d been maintaining it throughout the winter, no cold air was seeping in, and I’d rigged up a crude heating system in the center.

I watched the man and woman huddling by the fire.

They kept glancing at me.

I didn’t ask their names.

I wasn’t planning on letting them live.

This wasn’t a moral issue.

These people were murderers.

They lived by killing others and using their spoils to survive.

They might attack me here, or maybe they’d go after my friends or people I cared about somewhere else.

That’s how they lived.

I stared at them as I spoke.

“Where are you from?”

I knew my voice sounded cold.

In fact, this was closer to my original tone.

Detached, yet pressing.

The man and woman exchanged glances.

“A gang.”

The man smirked.

“We just got done killing people.”

I liked his honesty, but I didn’t react.

After a moment of silence, the man spoke again.

“We disbanded from our gang, and started having fun on our own. But we got hit hard this time. They were probably soldiers.

They killed all the men on the spot and took the women to a cave-like place.”

“They killed everyone except the pretty ones.”

The woman added.

“After having their fun, they’ll probably kill them too. I was pretty close with one of them.”

The two exchanged another look. The man, in a mocking tone, spoke while glancing at me.

“We’re gonna back off now and live quietly in the city. We’re sick of this life...”

The young couple, barely over twenty, held hands.

The man gently caressed the woman’s belly.

“We’re having a baby.”