“Fuck, Xs. Fuck, Xs. Fuck, Xs.”

I listen to the last part of John Nae-non’s voice memoir.

John Nae-non’s recordings are nothing but a scattered jumble of whatever came to mind in the moment, without any central theme, yet even so, each period is clearly distinct.

For instance, in the prologue section, when he had only just begun recording his voice notes, you could mostly find his resentments toward the message board friends who had kicked him out, his recollections of the glorious days when he threw money around like water in department stores and bars, his opinions on foreign cars and the regular bar women, his clumsy justifications for being a C-rank hunter, and so on.

At that time, John Nae-non still had a clear head, and he had the knack for spinning his stories with a unique color and flavor.

But the later it went, the more his mind withered just like his body, and his vocabulary and language exposed nothing but a brittle, twisted skeleton.

Especially this final chapter I’m listening to now—I hardly touched it back when I first acquired the voice memoir.

There are certainly some good passages in there, but they were drowned in a high ratio of fragments, like the death rattle of a shattered mind.

Now, though, I listen to that final chapter without any resistance.

I don’t know why.

Maybe I, too, at some point became accustomed to such collapse.

Or maybe it’s more accurate to say that the entire world has entered its final chapter.

Jeon Si-hoon launched a large-scale attack on Park Penguin—more precisely, the Incheon refugee coalition.

Two belligerent Japanese refugee groups joined this assault, and Park Penguin’s people suffered heavy losses, forced to give up key strongholds.

Park Penguin is still alive, but his group was scattered. Those scattered were hunted down and killed by raiders and Jeon Si-hoon’s hounds.

The public broadcast system, long since serving specific powers, maintained its tradition this time as well.

“Leader Jeon Si-hoon has carried out a large-scale purge of the criminal organization that grew in Incheon, engaging in human trafficking, drugs, organized murder, and robbery. Until now, Leader Jeon Si-hoon has shown patience and leniency toward these criminals, but he can no longer overlook their atrocities and has finally launched this operation. However, it is not too late. The door is always open. Surrender to the national army or defect immediately.”

The refugee groups—those that had symbolized the stubborn life force of the so-called mincho (common folk), endlessly pushed from one municipality in Gyeonggi-do to Seoul, from Seoul to Incheon, from Incheon out toward the coast—overnight fell to the status of “anti-state criminal organizations.”

Of course, no one actually believes that.

When the state abandoned its people and fled to Jeju, most of those left behind made their homes in the Incheon region.

After Seoul was rebuilt, many moved there, and further compounded disasters—long-standing infighting among refugee groups, infiltrations by North Korean remnants and Japanese—quickly shrank Incheon’s numbers, absorbing many into Sejong and Seoul. Yet even so, the refugee factions represented by Park Penguin are not small in number.

But compared to Seoul, they are nothing.

And Park Penguin’s refugee alliance is not a unified organization but a federation of many shelters.

Each of the hundreds of shelters has its own circumstances and its own channel.

His faction may be the largest and strongest, but compared to Sejong or Seoul, it’s no more than a handful.

At such a time, when a properly trained and well-equipped military force launches an organized assault, the outcome is as obvious as fire burning.

Anonymous458: Thanks, everyone. But this isn’t enough. Spread the word around. Let people know what that bastard Jeon Si-hoon is really doing right now.

Anonymous458: What’s worse is that we’re losing the battle of public opinion. After all the suffering we went through just for the crime of obeying the state after the war, when we were only just trying to straighten our backs and live again, suddenly some stray dog bones that rolled in out of nowhere paint us as the axis of evil.

Anonymous458: The invaded side isn’t the one shouting; it’s the invaders bragging about how well they did.

Anonymous458: But what can we do?

Anonymous458: They’ve got all the channels, all the speakers. And the assholes who lick up Jeon Si-hoon’s shit just echo along.

Anonymous458: If only PaleNet were still intact, could those bastards have run wild like this?

I understood Park Penguin’s anger.

There’s no way I can help him now, but in my own way, I joined his rage.

“...”

Crackle, crackle.

SKELTON: Hmm...

I turn to Necropolis, where at least you can glimpse fragments of opinion.

Dead4213: Park Penguin’s gang makes their living by grabbing women and running them as whores.

Dead48213: They say not just young girls, but boys too.

Dead391: Anyone got lighter fuel to trade today? Near Jecheon.

Dead99213: Incheon’s been a criminal nest since before the war. Everyone knew that. That place isn’t fit for humans.

Dead84451: Park Penguin’s gang makes their living by grabbing women and running them as whores.

Dead62322: They say Incheon trash cut up disobedient women for organ trafficking.

...

...

Even the already chaotic echo-chamber of Necropolis has been seized by Jeon Si-hoon’s opinion war.

Check back five minutes later, and it’s still the same.

Dead131231: Not just young girls, but boys too.

Dead5312: Incheon’s been a criminal nest since before the war. That place isn’t fit for humans.

Dead1212: They say Incheon trash cut up disobedient women for organ trafficking.

...

...

“Macros,” Da-jeong’s voice came through the comms with her take on Necropolis.

“It’s macros. Looks like Jeon Si-hoon’s running macros. Bastard learns all the dirty tricks fast.”

Ordinary people have no way of knowing about the chaos between Incheon and Seoul.

After the war, broadcast media is only the state-run TV and radio. Most people use the radio, while hardly anyone watches TV.

The dominant method of connecting TV became fiber optic cables instead of old UHF antennas, but after the war, those died out just like the internet.

An Awakened might have modified their TV to accept UHF, so despite all the noise they could still pick up color broadcasts, but such people are vanishingly few.

Most rely on shortwave radios for information.

I, too, was once an avid radio listener.

Viva! Apocalypse! is a public square untainted by Jeon Si-hoon’s government, but its user base is far too small.

Pure oldbies are now estimated under a hundred. Even if you add in newcomers who acquired gear through inheritance or robbery, the total barely reaches five hundred.

A handful like that cannot influence public opinion.

At present, the Seoul region is split three ways: the Incheon refugees, Jeon Si-hoon’s Seoul, and the “gray groups” scattered during Defender’s coup.

The largest by far is the gray group.

Like the rest of Seoul, they are filled with distrust of government, and through experience they’ve learned that banding together among themselves is a better survival strategy than trusting authorities.

The Incheon refugee coalition is far too exclusive to admit newcomers. They were bound by their shelters, and those same shelters block anyone who wasn’t part of them from entering.

With the warlords shattered, the only group capable of checking Jeon Si-hoon would be Sejong, but though Seoul and Sejong are not far, Sejong has avoided involvement with Seoul ever since the days when King was still alive.

So in the end, the key lies with the small groups unaffiliated with either side.

Through his opinion war, Jeon Si-hoon is swaying those small groups toward himself.

That’s why Park Penguin, rarely, poured out a long post to express his sense of injustice.

“...”

In the end, the key is in my hands.

John Nae-non is dead.

Foxgames is dead.

Deadman_working, in some sense, is no longer of this world.

Melon Mask’s heirs are drowning in their own problems.

The United States, once called the strongest empire in history, is now on the verge of collapse.

The only one left who can rebuild a network to connect people again... is me.

“Jeong-min, have you got a signal?”

So perhaps hope remains.

“Yes! It’s coming through bit by bit! Up until now it was just null, but now we’re catching a signal!”

Yoo Jeong-min flashed the same bright, unpretentious smile that had captivated Cheon Young-jae and won my favor as well.

I checked the numbers.

Nodded.

The echo of Necropolis is beginning to flow into a second PaleNet.

For now it’s as slow and low-traffic as the old modem days, but it will improve over time.

But there’s another problem.

“Everyone, gather up.”

In a political maelstrom akin to war, a careless move risks provoking someone’s wrath.

If we launch this “Second PaleNet” (tentative name), the one to be angriest will be none other than Jeon Si-hoon.

He won’t leave me alone.

When I left Seoul, the look on his face had not even a shred of respect or regard.

I can’t know his exact feelings, but I have to assume they are hostile toward me.

And of course, if he moves against me, not only I but those around me will be endangered.

So before we activate the network, we must be cautious.

Kim Daram and her husband, Cheon Young-jae and Yoo Jeong-min, the soldier duo, the civil servant, Dongtak and the young Awakened girl, even Mark Two — all gathered in one place.

I hadn’t called for the younger ones, but they came on their own.

I’d like to send them back, but I don’t want to create unnecessary ripples.

And just because someone’s young doesn’t mean you have to drive them away.

How many times have we seen that hiding and shielding a child doesn’t guarantee they’ll grow up good?

“The reason I’ve called everyone here today is nothing else.”

I explained about the Second PaleNet.

Especially about its risks.

I looked at the people.

All calm.

But the undercurrent of opposition was clear.

If this goes wrong, not only our group but even Dies_Irae’s group might get caught in the fallout.

Worst case, Jeon Si-hoon sends military troops to wipe us all out.

Second-worst, we’re forced to abandon our territory.

Abandoning this place and moving elsewhere isn’t easy.

Even if this year’s climate is mild by comparison, this is still Korea, and the Gyeonggi region at that.

Korean winters are no joke.

Breaking through the cold to find a new home is one challenge, but restarting there is an even greater one.

Who knows what’s waiting in that neighborhood?

Even here, our domain is ruled by the demon Dies_Irae.

And who’s to say something even worse isn’t out there?

“Do we really need to do this? Whatever happens to others isn’t something we can fix anyway, is it?”

At last, Kim Daram spoke on everyone else’s behalf.

This time she was being altruistic.

She took the hard step of voicing the first words of opposition, standing up to my stubbornness for the sake of the others.

And once she broke the dam, the others began murmuring too.

The content didn’t need careful listening.

All of them opposed me.

Why should we shoulder risk for others, for some abstract public good?

On that point, even I, who wants to launch a Second PaleNet, agree to some extent.

I’m no hero.

It’s what I’ve always told myself ever since I quit being Professor and left the battlefield.

But that doesn’t mean I intend to give in just because everyone is against it.

Even if I have to leave alone, I will open PaleNet.

I want to reconnect people.

That’s the mission left to me by my role models — John Nae-non, Ballantine, the pioneers who already departed for the sky.

I have a duty as Professor, but also a duty as Skelton.

Once, the former was incomparably more important. Now the two are equal, and neither can be ranked above the other.

Because I am Park Gyu, and at the same time Professor, and at the same time Skelton.

“...So I thought it through carefully.”

It’s not as if I gathered everyone here on a whim.

I had a plan.

A plan that requires a decision.

“I’ll leave this place.”

I’ll go back to my bunker.

I’ve left it vacant too long.

Maybe Jeon Si-hoon will search for it, but even if he finds the location, he’ll have trouble finding me.

There, I can freely, without harming others, open the Second PaleNet with pride.

I’ll gift Park Penguin — and anyone in the world who needs connection — a unified, easily accessible network.

Now that all I can do is sit back and watch Kang Han-min’s grand plan unfold, this is the one action left with a clear purpose.

“Senior, you’re leaving? Here?”

An unexpected turn.

I could tell just by Kim Daram’s face.

We know each other better than spouses (though I’m single).

We’ve shared the battlefield, where a snap decision means life or death.

So it’s natural.

And now she’s showing even greater resistance than before.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Sure enough, Kim Daram fixed me with a hard stare.

I’ve known her since she was young and cute, but the scariest moments are not when she throws a fit or exposes her base instincts.

It’s when she tries to tell me something earnest. That’s when my junior is most frightening.

“Whatever else, it’s thanks to you that we came here and made this place work. Dies_Irae? Whatever that bastard’s real name is, sure, I don’t like him either. But there’s no place safer than here. And of course, the core of that is you, Senior.”

She glanced around, then looked back at me.

At her lips — usually sharp and greedy — now hung a quiet smile that could only be called mature.

“Do it here.”

I clicked my tongue inside.

Why does she choose the one time she shouldn’t to become cooperative?

I should be the one to go.

I must go.

If I go out and name it “SkeltonNet” to draw the aggro, Jeon Si-hoon will have eyes only for me.

SkeltonNet.

What a beautiful resonance.

And yet here she goes, setting up words and atmosphere that are hard to argue against.

“No.”

I tried to refute, but Kim Daram cut me off.

“I know everyone’s got complaints. # Nоvеlight # But just think for a second. After Incheon, where do you think he’ll go next? Sejong, right? And once Sejong falls? Then he’ll devour the scraps one by one until it’s our turn. Sure, maybe we buy a little time. But from my experience, bastards like him only stop when everyone else is dead — and when they themselves are dead too. I know Jeon Si-hoon well.”

What the hell do you know.

The words nearly burst from my throat.

Even in this much of a mess, I keep a neutral expression. That’s been my identity since my Professor days.

The eyes of the people turned toward me.

“Senior. Just do it. Pull the trigger.”

She grinned and added:

“Let’s die together. What else can we do?”

“We could go to Sejong, couldn’t we?”

“That place isn’t good for raising kids.”

I hadn’t even realized I was clenching my fist when the walkie-talkie went off — something nobody expected.

Beeeeep—

A public channel.

Close by.

Cheon Young-jae switched it on and turned up the volume.

“Uh, is this the place?”

An unfamiliar voice boomed out.

Not long after, a message came from the outpost.

“Drone sighted!”

Sergeant Jang’s sharp voice cut through the comms.

“Multiple vehicles approaching!”

So whoever sent the transmission was tied to the ones behind the drones and vehicles.

I signaled to Kim Daram: prep for combat. Told Cheon Young-jae: contact Dies_Irae for support. And I turned my attention back to the walkie-talkie.

It carried a calm, unhurried voice.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Oh Hee-tae.” 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

I glanced at Kim Daram.

She shook her head.

Not a name she knew either.

Then Oh Hee-tae continued his introduction.

“For now, I serve as a knight under Leader Jeon Si-hoon.”