Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 145.1: Faith (1)

There’s a saying: The world can change in a single day.

Just a few days ago, I was sitting alone in the dark of my bunker. Now, I’m suddenly in command of a tactical unit of over a hundred hunters.

Standing over the massive camp sprawled beneath The Hope, Woo Min-hee looked out and got straight to the point.

“We can’t close the rifts anymore.”

I already knew that.

Screeech—

She dragged her hooked hand across the desk and continued.

“But people still need to survive.”

“What’s the plan?”

“I’m going to create an artificial Shangri-La.”

“Artificial Shangri-La?”

“You know how the original Shangri-La refers to areas where the erosion boundaries overlap and cancel each other out, creating safe zones? We’re going to manipulate those boundaries artificially.”

The government’s original plan had been to close the Jeju rift and, using the experience gained there, shut down all other rifts across the peninsula—starting with Paju.

But after the near-total devastation of Jeju, that plan was scrapped.

As Woo Min-hee said, people need to survive.

People need to be alive to have children—and for a new generation to be born in this world.

“Most of the newborns last year were Awakened. That’s what we confirmed on Jeju. And quite a few of them have the potential to surpass even the Regular Awakened class. Those kids will grow up and become the next generation to fight the rifts.”

She said it all too casually.

I felt a flicker of confusion and then responded firmly.

“You know about the Chinese data, don’t you?”

“I do.”

We were well aware of the Chinese scientist’s research John Nae-non (Goo Ssang-hyo) had left behind.

Awakened can’t produce proper offspring.

Just like a lion-tiger hybrid or a mule can’t reproduce, Awakened are evolutionary dead ends.

Like something out of Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park, most offspring are female, and even then, the chances of deformities are extremely high.

Even in the rare case a healthy child is born, that child is also Awakened.

Erosion is a literal death sentence for humanity.

“The government isn’t stupid, you know. Guess how many of last year’s newborns were conceived through IVF?”

Screeech—

Woo Min-hee scraped her hook across the desk again.

“New children are being raised in Jeju.”

“Sounds like you’re running a human factory.”

She smiled sweetly.

“That’s actually the perfect way to put it. A human factory. Maybe it is. But if we don’t do it... what happens to humanity? We just end.”

She gave me a teasing look.

“While we’re on the topic, why not donate some sperm, senior? You’d produce some high-quality offspring, I bet. Honestly, among the non-Awakened population, who has genes as good as yours?”

“I don’t want to see some stranger walking around claiming to be my kid.”

Come to think of it, I’d gotten a similar offer before I retired.

They said if I donated my sperm, they’d top off my severance package with a hefty bonus.

I turned them down flat.

One person like me in this world is enough—and I still feel that way.

“Anyway, until the next generation grows up, we plan to fortify and protect the Seoul area.”

“That’ll take at least ten years.”

“We’ll just have to hold out. It’s not like there’s no precedent.”

She showed me a photo.

It looked like somewhere in China.

From horizon to horizon, everything was blanketed in dull gray—except for one spot in the middle, glowing with full, vivid color like an oasis in a desert.

“Nothing is more stubborn than human beings.”

She flipped to another photo.

More settlements, more isolated pockets of color within the erosion zones. Just looking at them from a distance, I could feel the desperate will to survive radiating from those photos.

Her voice quietly echoed in my ears.

“You said that once.”

I had.

Probably after seeing how people lived in the erosion zones of China.

“You’re saying we should turn Seoul into something like that?”

“It’s not a bad candidate. It’s got big rivers «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» connected to the ocean, and as you know, Korean cities are basically fortresses. Every concrete apartment block is like a modern-day castle.”

That’s true.

Reinforced concrete high-rises are modern strongholds.

“And we’re about to receive reinforcements from Jeju.”

“...Kang Han-min?”

“Yep.”

“I see.”

“What’s wrong? Hearing that he’s coming make you want to leave?”

“It’s not that.”

Maybe once, a long time ago, I might’ve felt that way.

There was even a time I refused to say his name out loud.

Not anymore.

Time has changed me.

Whether that’s growth or regression, I don’t know—but at least now, I won’t avoid him.

Whether that resolve was visible on the surface, or whether it was just another one of Woo Min-hee’s distorted fantasies, I can’t say. But she stared at me with a strangely tender look—long enough to be uncomfortable.

“...Alright.”

After what felt like forever, she let out a quiet sigh and turned away.

“Let’s talk about what you’re going to be doing now.”

“...Not going to be easy, is it?”

She burst out laughing and raked her prosthetic leg across the floor.

SCREEEEEECH—!!

“Nope.”

*

The Seoul Hunter HQ—despite the uninspired name—has the following personnel under my command:

92 Regular Hunters

33 Special Hunters

11 Elite Hunters (aka Level 5+ Awakened)

52 Combat Support Personnel

A total of 168 people report to me.

My official title? Captain.

In a world where structure has all but collapsed, I could’ve picked something like Commander, Colonel, or Strategic Chief—but none of those fit someone who’ll be gone in three months.

As for the new naming system for hunters:

Regular Hunters: Us old-school, non-Awakened hunters

Special Hunters: Low-level Awakened

Elite Hunters: Level 5 and above—true Regular Awakened

Combat support personnel include everyone from logistics, medics, and supply staff to base guards and drone operators.

As with any newly formed organization, Seoul HQ has its share of issues.

The biggest? The elite Awakened refusing to follow orders.

“They don’t want to mix with the rest. Even on Jeju, they were treated like royalty.”

They pretend to listen when Woo Min-hee’s around, but the moment she’s gone, they ignore everything like nothing was said.

Apparently, my predecessor knows more.

“Hey, senior.”

I reunited with Kim Daram.

No longer wearing her eyepatch, the scars around her eyes exposed, she looked noticeably haggard—cheeks sunken, fatigue worn on her face like a badge.

“I knew you’d come. Min-hee kept looking for you.”

She was slumped in a waiting room full of lockers. I pulled out an empty ammo crate and sat down across from her.

I waited until her eyes met mine, then smiled.

“What? Were you constantly comparing yourself to me or something?”

She chuckled faintly.

“You’re not wrong.”

“I know.”

“Sigh...”

My light joke seemed to give her a bit of energy. She managed a weak smile.

“Never marry a woman like that. I’m serious. Living with someone who sees everything as a competition? That’ll give you cancer.”

For a second, I doubted my ears.

...Isn’t that her we’re talking about?

Well—whatever.

That’s not what matters.

The important thing is, even if she’s looking a little beaten down, Kim Daram is tough. Tough enough to survive Woo Min-hee’s relentless comparisons and putdowns with her mind intact.

“Who’s the problem?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

I’ve seen these kinds of group issues plenty of times.

Us old-school hunters may be treated like second-class citizens now, but we were once the elites—on the cutting edge of humanity’s fight for survival.

Plenty of my comrades found dealing with politics and interpersonal tension harder than actual combat.

At my question, Kim Daram idly spun a dagger with deft fingers as she answered slowly.

“There’s this guy, Ahn Seung-hwan. 22nd Cohort. He’s the Awakened team captain. He bows his head in front of Min-hee, sure—but it’s all for show. He knows the score. He knows Min-hee’s got a temper, but he also knows she can’t touch him.”

“Because he’s too valuable?”

“Exactly. And now that most of the elites from Jeju are dead, guys like him are even rarer.”

I asked for details on how they were disobeying.

As expected, it wasn’t outright refusal—but selective insubordination during operations.

They’d deploy to the battlefield, but then ignore orders, delay responses, or act like they didn’t hear anything.

A real pain.

If they outright refused deployment, we could weed them out through political channels. But this kind of shadowy defiance? There’s no easy fix.

The real reason Woo Min-hee called me was this.

Sure, she respected my experience and ability, but what she was really leveraging was the reputation of Professor—my past glory.

And glory, even faint and worn out, still lends at least a little authority.

“They might not listen to Kim Daram, but they’ll at least pretend to listen to you. You know, you were one of the top hunters back in the day.”

That’s what Woo Min-hee said when bringing up the issue.

She also handed me another task.

“How’s the situation in the city?”

We needed to secure the neighboring city of Hanam.

Even though people were starting to gather around The Hope, the existing infrastructure was nowhere near enough to accommodate the incoming masses from the capital area and Jeju.

Hanam had been evacuated early in the war and later became a fallback defensive line for the military, so much of its infrastructure remained intact. It’s also bordered on three sides by rivers and backed by mountains—easy to defend from both monsters and people.

Strictly speaking, The Hope itself actually lies more within Hanam’s jurisdiction than Seoul proper.

Still, the well-maintained city had since been lost to monster eruptions.

It wasn’t hard to guess things weren’t going to be pretty.

And maybe, just maybe, the reason the Regular Awakened were dragging their feet was because of what was going on in Hanam.

Even the laziest slacker will at least pretend to do easy work.

“Sigh... so here’s the deal,” Kim Daram said, pulling out a tablet to brief me.

“...Yeah.”

It was worse than I expected.

I thought to myself, No wonder they’re slacking off.

Monsters, zombies, Mutations, cultists—the whole end-times sampler platter was in there.

The worst part was the cultists.

Even the rough estimates put them in the hundreds. Many of them were armed with firearms and heavy weapons. A Regular Awakened had even been spotted among them.

Kim Daram finished her briefing with a heavy sigh, eyes tired as she looked up at me.

“You got any bright ideas, senior?”

“...Hard to say.”

Honestly, this isn’t something a hunter unit can handle alone.

Back in China, I operated alongside the military.

But New Seoul barely has enough strength to protect its own tiny patch of land. All we have are the hunters under the embarrassingly bland name of Seoul Hunter HQ.

“Luckily, a few of the Special guys are willing to help out. They look down on us, sure—but they get just as much crap from the Regulars, so...”

“You know Hong Jung-ho?”

I saw him during the inspection parade with Woo Min-hee.

My old online buddy, Defender.

Still as strikingly handsome as ever, those chilling eyes just as intense.

He may have trouble fighting monsters, but every oldbie on Viva! Apocalypse! would agree—our friend Defender is a natural-born butcher when it comes to fighting people.

“Hong Jung-ho?”

Kim Daram tilted her head.

“What about him? Did he do something?”

“No, not really...”

She clicked her tongue.

“Still... don’t you think he’s a little dangerous?”

*

Most Wanted.

Apparently, that’s the new call sign Defender goes by.

Fitting.

He’s become a top target for the cultists, yet he keeps soldiering on as a hunter without a scratch.

He’s been attacked five times by cultists so far—and he killed every last one of them without so much as a bruise.

That’s not luck.

He’s a born killer—gifted in the art of dealing death to humans.

“Skelton.”

We bumped fists in private.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here. Thought you’d rot away in that bunker forever.”

Years of intertwined fate gave us a natural sense of familiarity that time and distance couldn’t break.

We didn’t part on good terms, but even so, seeing each other again brought a smile. The past was still something we could talk about with laughter.

“Why’d you leave? I’ve got a good idea, but still.”

He stirred the cheap tea in his plastic cup and waited.

Defender gave a hollow laugh and shook his head, that familiar murderous glint flickering in his eyes.

“If I stayed, I think I might’ve killed them.”

“Who?”

“Bang Ga... and his mother.”

“Ah.”

“I left before I really did it. And Bang Jae-hyuk was already catching on. He got so wary he even started setting up booby traps outside the bunker when it was his turn on watch.”

“That serious, huh?”

“There were other things too. The tension wasn’t going to just blow over.”

He gave a dry laugh as I nodded, and continued.

“And you know how it is... People like us—we’re more inclined to kill.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true.”

“We think about killing over the stupidest shit. Even when we know exactly what kind of consequences it’ll bring.”

From my perspective, the conflict had seemed manageable.

But that’s just it—it was my perspective.

The Defender siblings are psychopaths.

They have an exceptionally low threshold for violence.

If someone honks at them in traffic for not moving fast enough, the first thing they think about is the golf club or baseball bat in their trunk.

That might be the real reason Da-jeong’s approach never worked out.

Actually, it probably is.

In hindsight, it was right for the Defender siblings to leave.

Still, I felt the need to defend Bang Jae-hyuk a little.

I was closer to Defender and would choose him if I had to pick between the two, but it’s best to be fair.

“Bang Jae-hyuk never said a word to me about it. Never even hinted.”

“Yeah, he’s not a bad guy. But what can you do? It’s family. Once things sour with one, you start hating the whole lot. You know that Yankee meme, right? Haters gonna hate. Once someone gets on your nerves, they stay there.”

Doesn’t matter now.

It’s over.

Let’s focus on what we can do.

I explained the situation to Defender.

“Hanam?”

A dangerous gleam flashed in his eyes.

“Yeah, I know. The cultists, right?”

I figured he’d already thought this through.

He’s not impulsive—he’s a calculated killer.

He’s probably imagined dozens of ways to wipe out the cultists in Hanam by now.

He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a faded blueprint.

“What’s this?”

A building plan.

[Hanam Starworld]

A massive complex—probably used to be a mall.

Defender showed me where he’d made his own markings.

It was one of the core support columns, extending deep underground.

“If I can get in here and plant the TNT...”

He pointed at the column, his lips curling into a wicked grin.

“Those bug-eyed bastards will be dust.”

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