Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 44.1: Construction (1)

Two years and seven months have passed since the war began.

Destruction has risen to our throats, suffocating us slowly.

The lives of the refugees I saw in Incheon were miserable.

One could hardly call it living—just existing.

Their basic needs, even their very fates, were entirely dependent on a government whose leaders were barely identifiable.

Recently, there’s been a small change in the cities: they’ve started providing a mysterious nutrient porridge instead of the cockroach-colored nutrition bars.

Apparently, it tastes better and is more nutritious.

The problem lies in the porridge’s ingredients, sparking all sorts of speculation among the people:

Mutated meat?

Human meat?

Zombie meat?

Whatever the truth, the urban population has no choice but to rely on it.

Without it, survival is impossible.

For the average person, eating that mysterious substance and enduring is the only way to hope for a place on the convoy heading to Jeju Island—a dream that’s quickly becoming their last and only hope.

Even for the doomsday enthusiasts on our forum, times aren’t great.

Anonymous424: Food supplies are running out—what should I do?

Doyourbest321: I’m in Busan. Anyone willing to trade food for fuel?

RKKArA: I’m starving. When will the barley be ready to harvest?

Though such posts appeared occasionally before, as summer approached, more and more users began revealing their struggles with food shortages.

On average, the forum users prepared three years’ worth of food.

Initially, the standard was two years, but John Nae-non (Doomdad) insisted three years was safer. His argument convinced most of the community, and the “three-year stockpile” became the norm.

Now, those three years are almost up.

And food, as it turns out, spoils and gets consumed faster than expected.

Some of us might starve.

When I last saw SeamonkeyPAPA, his supplies were already gone.

Beyond food, some users were struggling with external threats.

Up north, in Seoul, users who had hidden themselves away were entirely wiped out.

Down south, a more unsettling development was brewing—a mysterious cult spreading rapidly among the starving population.

The name of the religion isn’t known, but their insane rhetoric about coexistence and harmony with monsters screams of Manlyugyo (Cult of Ten Thousand Ghosts).

The fire that burned China has now spread to our land.

With both the north and south in turmoil, I, Park Gyu, am no exception.

I couldn’t bear to live in that squalid neighborhood any longer, so I returned to my beautiful home.

But this place is no longer safe either.

I must prepare for a fight.

The Legion could come crashing down on me at any moment.

“Seems like you’re worrying for nothing.”

Defender didn’t share my concerns.

“Be honest. Are you really such a high-value target? Worth breaking a ceasefire, deploying special forces, and risking enemy territory to eliminate?”

“No, not really.”

Defender had a point—I’m not a VIP.

Maybe someone like Woo Min-hee is, but for an ordinary hunter like me? Sending elite troops to take me out would be overkill.

If I were to die, what would they gain?

Let’s consider some possibilities:

Satisfaction from killing a traitor?Setting an example for other defectors?Simple revenge?No matter how I look at it, there’s no real benefit.

But humans often do things without any benefit.

So, I need to be prepared.

History is full of people acting without thought, and I doubt that’s changed even now.

The problem is that preparing for an army is daunting.

How does one stand against a military force alone?

No matter how much I think about it, I can’t find an answer by myself.

“Rebecca? Rebecca? It’s SKELTON. Hey, can I use the internet for a bit?”

That’s what the community is for.

*

While waiting for replies, I surveyed the sniper mother-daughter duo’s lair.

Both their ammo and food supplies had dwindled significantly since I’d last been here.

“Is this all you’ve got left?” I asked, staring at their pitiful reserves.

Rebecca sighed and nodded. “Yeah.”

“You won’t last until summer.”

“Yeah.”

“I could spare some of mine, but...”

“How about we team up?” Rebecca suggested suddenly.

“What?”

“Let’s form a team!”

She looked at me with an uncharacteristically serious expression. Clearly, she and her daughter, Sue, had been mulling this over for a while.

Perhaps they’d been waiting for the right moment to bring it up.

I understood their plight. I’d even considered taking them into my territory.

But it’s not an easy decision.

Even married couples who love each other argue all the time. Imagine armed neighbors cohabitating—it would inevitably lead to misunderstandings and disputes.

Most likely, such disputes would end in someone’s death.

Before I could respond, Sue approached me, holding her rifle with a steady grip.

“SKELTON, we can shoot.”

I looked at her for a moment. She’d grown so much. The little girl who used to barely reach my waist now came up to my shoulders.

She was growing fast, just like any kid her age. She must’ve inherited her mother’s height—Rebecca was as tall as me at 181 cm. Sue might even surpass me someday.

Still, for now, she was shorter than me. I looked down at her and spoke honestly.

“That’s not the issue...”

I briefly explained my current situation: how I’d become a target for the military and how they already knew my location.

“Because of that fight?” Rebecca asked.

“Yeah. I had no choice.”

Even if it put me in danger, I had no regrets about my decision.

At least it had given me hope.

The weight of the topic left the air heavy. None of us spoke for a while.

Eventually, I checked the laptop.

A few replies had come in:

Anonymous848: "If the military’s after you, aren’t you already dead?"

Anonymous1011: "Run. What else can you do?"

Defender: "It depends on which military group we’re talking about."

ㅇㅇ: "If it’s the Legion faction, consider yourself dead."

Roka_hun: "Some deserter groups are more dangerous than others."

Dies_irae69: "If you adopt a communal survivalist approach and arm yourselves well enough, even a small force won’t dare mess with you."

“Hmm...”

The responses were mostly pessimistic.

I hadn’t expected much, but it was still disappointing.

Foll𝑜w current novℯls on ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm.

Suddenly, Rebecca nudged me aside.

“Move. I’ve got an idea.”

“What now?”

“Just trust me.”

Reluctantly, I gave up my seat.

Rebecca, with her sniper-like precision, navigated the English boards and found a specific post.

Rebecca’s rapid typing filled the air as she dove into the English forum with precision and experience far surpassing my own. Within moments, she located a dense wall of text and pointed it out to me.

“This one,” she said confidently.

“I can read it, but I’m slow,” I admitted.

“Hold on, I’ll translate it for you.”

Rebecca activated the automatic translation tool, then gestured to her daughter, Sue. The girl quickly copied the rough translation into a notepad, making corrections to the awkward phrasing with a deft hand. Occasionally, she paused to look up unfamiliar words, diligently ensuring the meaning was clear.

After some time, Sue proudly presented the revised text to me.

“Here, take a look, SKELTON.”

Callum: How We Dealt with a Large-Scale Raider Group Discovering Our Bunker

The title alone caught my attention—it felt like it was written just for me.

Apparently, this post was a hit on the English forum, highly upvoted and frequently referenced. It made me think of John Nae-non, who might have been able to bring similar insights to our board if he were still alive. But alas, the legendary user had become a memory, leaving a void.

I began to read carefully:

My bunker is quite large. There are three of us, and we have heavy equipment and an experienced carpenter. That’s me.

When a scouting party from a raider group discovered our bunker, we managed to kill them all. However, they had already called for reinforcements.

The raiders were a semi-military organization with around three hundred members. They were basically an army in everything but name.

Their gear was impressive—drones, helicopters, you name it. If they decided to kill us, we wouldn’t stand a chance.

But leaving our bunker wasn’t an option. The three of us had invested everything into building it.

So, what did we do?

We hid the bunker.

“Hmm...” I muttered to myself.

It was an ingenious idea—hiding a bunker that had already been discovered. The concept hadn’t even crossed my mind.

The latter part of the post detailed the process of concealing the bunker, including using heavy machinery to reshape the terrain. Of course, it came with caveats: the attackers needed only vague knowledge of the bunker’s location, they had to be uncertain of its exact whereabouts, and there needed to be enough time and resources to carry out the work.

It wasn’t a solution for the average person, but the poster was part of a group of survivalists in the U.S. They had extensive resources, and their bunker was as robust and well-equipped as mine—if not more so.

“What do you think, SKELTON?” Rebecca asked, watching my reaction.

I nodded and gave her a thumbs-up. “It’s good. Really good.”

For the first time in a while, I felt the value of our community’s collective knowledge.

Still, Callum’s method wasn’t entirely applicable to my situation. While the U.S. had vast, open land, my bunker sat in a very specific location—between a military base and a golf course. Its position was far too precise to hide completely. And then there was Kim Daram, who remembered my location all too well.

I couldn’t disappear entirely, but I could still come up with something. This bunker was my home, my sanctuary. It wasn’t something I could abandon so easily.

“I should head back,” I told Rebecca.

“Wait, SKELTON! A new comment just came in!” Sue exclaimed, pointing excitedly at the screen.

“Maybe it’s a helpful suggestion?” she added with a hopeful smile.

But before I could approach, Sue’s expression darkened. “What the...”

It was obvious why.

dongtanmom: Yum-yum... You’re done for... Yum-yum...

“That bastard,” I growled through clenched teeth, unable to hold back my frustration.

Sue and Rebecca stared at me, wide-eyed. I had never raised my voice in front of them before.

“SKELTON...?” Rebecca ventured cautiously.

Realizing I had startled them, I quickly apologized. “Sorry. Really sorry. It’s just... this person is the absolute worst.”

“I can see that,” Rebecca replied. “Why do they keep saying ‘yum-yum’? What’s wrong with them?”

“It’s... a kind of mental illness,” I said flatly.

I thanked Rebecca and Sue once more for their help and left their building. As I descended the stairs, Rebecca called out after me.

“If you need people, let us know. We’ll help.”

“I will,” I promised. “If it comes to that.”

Riding the motorcycle I’d inherited from Baek Seung-hyun, I couldn’t help but speak to the machine as I stared at its dashboard.

“Your previous owner... why was he like that?”

The motorcycle didn’t answer, of course, but I couldn’t deny its usefulness. It was well-maintained and incredibly efficient, capable of reaching speeds of up to 180 km/h. Against human enemies, it was a lifesaver—good luck trying to shoot a target moving that fast.

Though I didn’t like Baek Seung-hyun as a person, I had to admit he’d done an excellent job taking care of this bike.

Back at my bunker, I stood with my hands behind my back, surveying the place from all angles.

“Hmm...”

How could I modify it? The entrance was an obvious target—it needed to be changed. Or maybe I should leave it as it was to mislead attackers?

No matter how much I mulled it over, I couldn’t decide on the best course of action. This wasn’t something I could figure out on my own.

“Hey,” I called out.

Defender’s voice crackled through my comms. “SKELTON, what’s up?”

“Can I use a summoning token now?”

“What for?”

“Not a fight. I just need some advice.”

“A consultation, huh? Save the token. I’ll come.”

“And bring your sister.”

“What? Why?”

“Just... bring her.”

After a pause, he sighed. “Fine. Be there soon.”

As usual, Defender’s arrival was preceded by a drone reconnaissance sweep. Once the area was deemed safe, he and his sister arrived together—her on a kick scooter, of all things.

“Hello, SKELTON!” she greeted cheerfully, removing her goggles as she waved.

“Hey.”

After brief pleasantries, I dove into my concerns, explaining the compromised location of my bunker and my thoughts on concealing it.

Defender and his sister inspected the bunker thoroughly, their movements methodical. Finally, standing in front of the main entrance, Defender crossed his arms.

“It’s solid as is, but once the location’s known, all its strengths are nullified.”

“Yeah... I figured.”

His blunt assessment stung, but it confirmed my fears.

“You should just move. Hell, come live at my place.”

“That’s...”

“Your former subordinate knows where this is, right? Then you need to leave immediately.”

“I know, but...”

Why was he like this? Couldn’t he offer even a shred of encouragement?

“Why not just build a new one?” his sister suggested casually, chewing on jerky.

“Build... a new one?” I repeated, my mind racing.

Then it hit me.

An idea—a way to hide my bunker from both the Legion faction and Kim Daram.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was something.