Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 102.1: Dystopia in Ash (1)

The pilot never gave his name, but his ability to land at night made it clear—he was a seasoned veteran.

He flew at dangerously low altitudes, likely wary of anti-aircraft fire. Then, without warning, he executed a sharp turn so steep that the aircraft tilted nearly 90 degrees.

"We’ll be taking the route over the sea."

As the plane slowly climbed, the vast ocean, tinged with a murky yellow hue, came into view.

I stared at the water from above the clouds, my mind drifting, until something caught my eye.

"What is that?"

Even from this high up, I could see massive, distinct trails.

They weren’t exactly ship wakes, but something enormous was moving in the water, large enough to resemble vessels.

I flipped through the mental archives of my long-forgotten animal encyclopedias.

"Whales?"

The pilot let out a bitter chuckle.

"Mutation whales."

"Mutation whales...?"

The common belief was that marine creatures couldn’t mutate. Fish were considered too biologically inferior for mutation factors to take effect. But whales—whales were different.

Despite their fins, whales were mammals, just like us.

There had been some fringe theories about whales mutating, but the academic community dismissed them. Their populations were already too low to pose a threat to humans, and even if they did start attacking people, the world would just see a repeat of the brutal whaling era of the 19th century.

Unlike fish, whales had to surface for air. That made them easy prey.

Of course, that also meant hunting them would require whaling ships and weapons powerful enough to take down a mutated beast.

"Mutated orcas are a real nightmare. They’re already big, but now they’ve grown to the size of sperm whales."

"Orcas? I thought orcas didn’t attack humans."

"That’s ancient history. Now, they live up to their English name—killer whales, through and through."

"That bad?"

"Yeah. They were already smart, but now they’re bigger, stronger, and they move in packs. You can’t escape. The Busan supply ships have already lost two vessels to them. Even the navy has trouble. These bastards are clever—they recognize the sound of propellers and can tell which ships are a threat. If the ship is too dangerous, they flee. If it’s weak, they ram it until it sinks."

"...That’s horrifying."

The pilot chuckled.

"The ocean belonged to the whales before humans arrived. They’re just taking back their old home."

I stared at the eerie, shifting patterns in the water for a long time.

The propeller plane was sluggish, its magic power unimpressive. Compared to the domestic flights I used to take from Gimpo Airport, this journey was dragging on.

Two and a half hours had passed since we left the West Sea and continued over the South Sea.

And then—land appeared on the horizon once more.

For a moment, I forgot I was strapped into my seat and nearly stood up.

Jeju.

The island of legend, whispered about by countless people.

Jeju.

How many had dreamed of making it here?

Once synonymous with paradise, the island was now cloaked in black.

"?"

There was no greenery.

It wasn’t the season for barren fields.

And yet, all I could see was black earth, as if the island itself wanted to prove its volcanic origins.

Then, I heard it.

The sound of jets.

WOOOOOOOHHHHH—

I turned my head. A heavy fleet of aircraft was flying over the island, dispersing something from above.

"What are they dropping?"

The pilot let out a sigh, smirking.

"Defoliant."

"Defoliant...?"

"Yeah. There are areas where vegetation would be a problem."

The plane veered westward, revealing a more detailed view of the inland areas.

I had expected this.

I had known Jeju was far from the paradise people imagined.

Hallasan came into view.

Beneath the towering peak, everything was dyed gray.

Not by monsters.

By concrete.

Vast, towering concrete walls, far beyond the scale of North Korea’s infamous honeycomb housing, carved the island into sections.

Within that ashen maze, there was no trace of Jeju’s natural beauty. No sign of the island I once knew.

"Welcome to paradise."

The plane began its slow descent.

*

None of the people waiting for me on the runway were familiar faces.

Two men who looked like scientists, a guard, and three individuals who seemed to be government officials.

"Is this the data in question?"

The young government official smirked as he eyed me.

"Where are you coming from?"

His condescending tone irritated me.

I answered coldly.

"Hunter. Served on the Beijing Front."

The entire group turned to look at me.

I didn’t care what they were thinking.

"Where’s the person I contacted through satellite internet?"

Unicorn18 wasn’t here.

Unicorn18 could have been someone I didn’t know, but there wasn’t a single person in this group who seemed connected to him.

"That individual has not come to meet you."

Another government official, a woman, met my gaze as she answered.

"..."

I didn’t reply.

I didn’t react.

But my mood had soured.

Maybe it was the desolate landscape.

Maybe it was the realization that I wasn’t going to be treated well here.

They led me into a massive underground bunker near the runway.

"Stay here until we finish analyzing the data. In the meantime, please fill out the documents on the desk."

The papers they left behind were a joke.

A personal information sheet.

Name, age, my long-forgotten resident registration number, occupation, family details—the usual.

The funniest part?

They wanted my pre-war cell phone number.

Jeju’s government had clearly inherited a more intact version of South Korea’s administrative system than the mainland.

Considering how they constantly sent transport planes to scavenge everything from the mainland, it was no surprise.

If anything, it would have been weirder if they didn’t have records like this.

I filled out the forms from memory and submitted them.

The results came in by evening.

"Park Gyu."

A new face entered the room.

A man in his thirties, radiating pure exhaustion. He glanced at my papers, checked my face against them, and then turned away.

"Let’s talk on the way."

As we walked down the corridor, he explained.

"The data you obtained has been verified."

"Is that so?"

"Did you ever look at it?"

"No. It was encrypted."

"Get in the car."

Outside the building, a small electric vehicle was parked.

"What about my luggage?"

"It’s already loaded in the back."

I checked the storage compartment, then climbed into the passenger seat.

Something felt off.

It took me a moment to realize what it was, and then I asked,

"There aren’t any weapons?"

This chapter is updat𝓮d by freēnovelkiss.com.

The man looked at me strangely.

"Weapons?"

"Yeah. Guns, for example."

After a moment of silence, he burst into laughter.

"None of that here. This isn’t the mainland."

"What about mutations? Raiders?"

"We don’t have those."

"Still, as a precaution—"

As I kept pressing the issue, he gave me a long, hard stare.

Then, he asked,

"Did you carry a gun around before the war?"

For a split second, I felt ashamed.

...No.

No, I hadn’t.

This was common sense.

Unlike the United States, in South Korea, it was standard—and legally mandated—for individuals not to carry firearms.

"..."

I had spent too long in the mud.

For three years and seven months, I had lived in an environment where being without a gun induced an unbearable sense of unease.

It was no surprise I had developed a psychological disorder.

Even though I understood the logic behind the man’s words, an inexplicable sense of anxiety settled over me as the car moved forward.

As a result, I didn’t take in much of the passing scenery.

All I remembered was that there was barely any blue—only endless stretches of gravel and concrete, an oppressive, dreary landscape.

I focused instead on what the man was saying.

"The data verification yielded interesting results. It was indeed what we were looking for, but it wasn’t quite what we expected."

They must have found it.

That person’s final records.

"That said, we can’t overlook the fact that you risked your life to retrieve this data for the Republic of Korea. As a special consideration, we are granting you a residence in Zone-2."

"Zone-2?"

"Yes. You seem to be living alone, and this place should be more than enough for you."

Zone-2, huh.

It was an area where they provided 57㎡ housing.

Not as prestigious as Zone-1, but better than Zone-3.

At least it wasn’t the refugee shelters, which meant I wasn’t getting completely shafted.

If the records I brought had been exactly what they wanted, maybe I would have gotten a Zone-1 allocation.

The car drove up to the enormous concrete wall I had seen in Unicorn’s photos and from the plane.

A massive gate, wide enough for a tank to pass through, was set into the wall.

A sign displayed the district’s name:

[ Residential Complex 2-23 ]

Beyond the gate, perfectly aligned roads stretched out like a grid, flanked by endless rows of two-story prefabricated houses.

"Here’s your key and identification. It’s already late today, so rest up, and report to the district office tomorrow for registration. Oh, and make sure to follow any orders given through the broadcasts. Non-compliance will result in significant penalties."

143-213.

That was my new home.

As I climbed the stairs, the boards groaned beneath me. The narrow, rickety walkway was barely wide enough for two adults to pass each other.

Every step on the metal flooring echoed unnervingly, full of small holes and poorly welded seams.

I could feel eyes on me.

Through barred windows along the corridor, unseen figures watched.

Ignoring them, I reached my new residence.

The lock was rusty. After a few failed attempts, I finally managed to turn the key.

As I opened the door, I heard several other doors creak open down the hallway.

Strangers peeked out, observing me.

Not a pleasant welcome.

Creeeeak—

The stench hit me immediately.

Not quite the smell of a corpse, but something rotten and sickly clung to the air.

It didn’t take long to find the source.

A lunchbox, left untouched for god knows how long, its contents blackened and congealed into a jelly-like mass.

"..."

The space itself wasn’t small.

Compared to my bunker, it was a tiny cubicle, but for an average South Korean man living alone, it was spacious enough.

The real problem lay elsewhere.

There was no bathroom.

Which meant no shower either.

The room that should have been a bathroom was instead stacked with emergency supplies—hazmat suits, gas masks—coated in layers of dust.

I spent the night in a stranger’s bedding, still tainted with their scent.

The nightmares hadn’t ended.

I dreamt the continuation of my old nightmare—someone opening my door and gunning me down.

Only this time, it was worse.

Unlike in my bunker, I didn’t even have a gun to resist.

At exactly 6 AM, a loudspeaker blared from above.

- Morning roll call and exercise will now commence. All citizens are required to participate.

- Any absences will be solely the responsibility of the individual. If you have a legitimate reason for missing roll call, you must report to the disciplinary office at the district office within three days of the incident.

"Roll call?"

A curse slipped from my lips.

But I hadn’t forgotten the warning from the government officer who brought me here.

Follow the broadcast instructions whenever possible.

Might as well check out the neighbors.

I stepped outside.

A small crowd had already gathered in front of the buildings.

Something felt... off.

It took a moment to pinpoint what it was.

The age gap.

The average age was absurdly low.

Most were teenagers.

A few in their twenties.

But there wasn’t a single person in their thirties.

Not a single one over forty.

No elderly.

Not one.

"..."

The rumors were true.

They really had drowned all the refugees who tried to reach Jeju.

I had accepted it when Baek Seung-hyun mentioned it, but even before his case, countless people had attempted to reach Jeju on private or small-group boats.

They had all been sent to the bottom of the sea.

The low average age ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) wasn’t unique to my building. Looking around, I saw the same trend across all the lined-up residences.

- National Calisthenics, begin! One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! ...

I halfheartedly mimicked the exercises, then turned to the boy beside me.

"Hey."

The boy glared at me, his gaze cold.

Annoyed, but not showing it, I asked,

"Where’s the bathroom?"

The boy didn’t answer.

He simply pointed west and turned away without another word.

"..."

I wanted to smack him.

But I held back.

The bathroom was communal.

A line of kids already stood outside the few stalls, waiting their turn.

There were more stalls for women than for men, so the ratio of boys to girls in line was about the same.

Beside the communal bathrooms, there were shared showers and sinks.

Some kids had even brought their laundry, washing clothes at the sinks.

"..."

Back at my unit, I sat idly until the next announcement came.

- Breakfast will now be served. There will be no meal service outside of designated hours, so please be on time.

Meals were served in a communal canteen.

Or rather, each district had a makeshift tent where food was distributed.

There were no bowls in sight.

And then I realized why.

The disgusting, moldy lunchbox I had found in my unit—that was my bowl.

When I showed up empty-handed, a woman holding a ladle frowned at me.

"Where’s your lunchbox?"

"I just arrived today."

"No lunchbox, no food."

"It’s my first day."

"Sorry, no exceptions. You’re old enough to understand, aren’t you?"

"Nope."

When a security officer with an armband approached, I backed off on my own.

As my stomach growled, I muttered to myself.

"This is bad."

I didn’t like this place from day one.

Skelton wasn’t the kind of person to complain.

But even this was a bit much.

I was once the king of a bunker—now they expected me to live like this?

Unicorn’s warnings flashed through my mind.

"Haah..."

Yeah, they say you only appreciate home once you leave.

And speaking of that bastard Unicorn—where was he?

I grabbed a passing kid and bluntly asked,

"Is there a place with internet or computers here?"

"There’s a PC cafe."

The boy answered gruffly and walked off.

"PC cafe...?"

Finding Unicorn.

Maybe it was possible.

Even if I left Jeju, I had to see him first.