Faith isn’t solely reserved for belief in a higher power.

There are many kinds of faith: the faith between lovers, the confidence a successful entrepreneur has in their own luck, or the trust a coach places in an underperforming athlete.

I remember witnessing a similar form of faith in a real estate forum I joined briefly back when I was scouting for land.

The post, written by someone who seemingly had their entire fortune tied up in a single property, went something like this, though my memory is a bit fuzzy:

“Real estate will always go up—always. Even if there’s a war, missiles, or the fall of the nation, real estate will keep rising.”

It was something along those lines.

While I generally agreed with the sentiment, I couldn’t help but think that even real estate wouldn’t hold up in the face of extreme situations like war.

Interestingly, our community also has someone with a similar kind of unshakable belief.

mmmmmmmmm: (Breaking News) The U.S. Declares National Stabilization!
mmmmmmmmm: (Rumor) The Icheon-Yeoju Food Belt Optimized!
mmmmmmmmm: Cargo Ships Dock in Busan!

Every day, this individual, known as "m9," fills the forum with increasingly outrageous posts.

But m9 wasn’t always this way.

When he first joined our Viva! Apocalypse! Korean forum, he was an ordinary user with a standard way of thinking.

Things changed for him after he won the lottery for an apartment in the ultra-modern residential complex, The Hope.

After that victory, m9’s demeanor shifted. He began disparaging the life choices of others, claiming his path was the only right one.

But our Viva! Apocalypse! forum members aren’t easily rattled.

Many of us, having nothing better to do, spend hours each day engaged in the forum. Over time, we’ve developed an uncanny knack for dealing with troublesome individuals.

The method we chose was collective silence.

Instead of arguing or debating with him, we imposed a social penalty by ignoring him entirely.

Given that communication is the forum’s main purpose, this level of collective ostracization is akin to a death sentence.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t just m9’s problem.

I was in danger too...

SKELTON: What’s a good choice for breakfast?

Even after crafting the perfect post without my usual brash “John Nae-non” opening, my thread was met with deafening silence.

The culprit? The Defender siblings.

Their obnoxious “We love SKELTON!” spam had completely tanked my reputation.

One sympathetic user messaged me to break the news:

Kyle_Dos: Are you seriously friends with Defender? You know how people here view them, right?

Of course I knew.

Everyone detested Defender, but his posts were too unique and entertaining to completely exile him. He was tolerated as a necessary evil.

The problem was that this necessary evil had taken a liking to me. As a result, I had become tainted by association, viewed as part of the “Defender clique.”

Thankfully, redemption wasn’t impossible.

I had a role model in m9, who managed to rise from the ashes of collective disregard and become a hot topic once more.

The catalyst for his resurgence came from a post titled:

mmmmmmmmm: “Inspection of The Hope.”

Attached were three low-resolution videos without any explanatory text.

In the first video, m9, wielding a selfie stick, documented his journey from his bunker to Seoul. The footage was heavily edited but provided glimpses of his face, which looked older than mine. Oddly, his bunker housed two dogs—probably Welsh Corgis or French Bulldogs.

“Here’s the road connecting my bunker to Seoul,” m9 explained as the camera panned to show a convoy of soldiers and armored vehicles moving in an orderly fashion.

“See? Super safe. Soldiers always guard it. Looters? Haven’t seen any! But what’s the point of safety if you’re rotting in a bunker?”

Unlike my area, which had just begun attracting settlers, m9’s surroundings were bustling with military activity. The soldiers seemed to be heading toward Seoul instead of the frontlines, but m9 appeared indifferent.

“Now, let me introduce you to my new apartment! To all my haters—watch closely! This is a home you’ll never have, no matter how hard you try!”

His long-winded rant against his critics culminated in him addressing me directly:

“Especially you, SKELTON! What was it you said? That this place would never get built? That your ‘connections’ confirmed it? Ha! If you’re going to insult me, at least do it openly instead of trying to crush my hope behind my back!”

Why was I getting dragged into this nonsense?

Regardless, the video revealed the current state of The Hope.

Given the times, the government had hastily constructed a single model building to test the living conditions before completing the rest of the complex. m9 was one of the lucky few selected to live in this pilot building.

But something felt off.

Even with a single apartment block, construction shouldn’t have been this fast. Leveling the ground alone should’ve taken over a year.

The answer to my doubts became apparent as I watched the video.

For a moment, I doubted my eyes.

“...Wow.”

The apartment...was tilted.

If Italy has the Leaning Tower of Pisa, Korea now had The Hope.

The building was so severely slanted that it looked like it could topple over at any moment.

m9, however, seemed oblivious.

“Welcome to my sweet home! No more moldy bunkers for me!”

Inside, he showcased the apartment’s amenities: built-in cabinets, a bathtub, a working boiler, a flushing toilet, and appliances like a refrigerator and washing machine.

But appearances were deceiving.

The walls were peeling, the bathroom tiles were cracked, the fridge didn’t work, and no water came out of the faucets.

The most striking moment was when m9 dropped a pen in the living room, and it slowly rolled across the slanted floor.

The community’s response was a chorus of confusion:

Anonymous848: ?
Kyle_Dos: ?
Anonymous458: ?
DragonC: ?
unicorn18: ?
Defender: ?
Survival_KING: ?
SKELTON: Huh?!
Anonymous118: ?

It was a textbook case of shoddy construction.

Later, a user known as Gijayangban provided additional context:

gijayangban: (Pulled from FailNet) The Hope’s pilot building wasn’t allocated by lottery but through open applications. About 2,000 people showed up, but most left after seeing the tilt. Safety inspections deemed it “habitable,” but only after higher-ups overrode the results. Locals in Seoul are now betting on when it’ll collapse.

FailNet, unlike our Viva! Apocalypse! forum, was a sprawling online network accessible through both wired and wireless connections. Though plagued by instability and crashes, its sheer user base ensured an unparalleled wealth of information.

Despite all this, m9 became a popular user.

Why?

Because everyone was dying to know:

When would The Hope fall?

When would m9 vanish from the forum?

Every post m9 made now garnered dozens of comments.

Anonymous118: Brother, are you holding up okay?
unicorn18: Did your house sway today?
Anonymous458: Boom! Crash!
Anonymous848: It’s falling! It’s falling!

.

.

Watching m9, once a universally ignored user, now basking in the attention of a flood of comments, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy.

It wasn’t intentional on his part, but seeing his rise taught me an important lesson:

Even if you’re heavily ostracized, as long as your content is entertaining, people will eventually come back to you.

I had a decent idea for some entertaining content of my own—my Camouflage House project.

The plan was simple: repurpose an old shipping container and place it on the ruins of my previous bunker, then tweak it to make it look somewhat livable.

Dusting off my forklift, I moved the container into place, gave it some modest upgrades, and prepared to unveil my masterpiece.

I posted the results on the forum with the title:

SKELTON: “The Fake” House Inspection.

When that failed to attract views, I revised the title to:

SKELTON: “SKELTON's Second Condominium” Inspection.

But the problem wasn’t the title.

Most users skimmed past the post and moved on.

It wasn’t until Defender’s sibling chimed in that I understood why.

Defender: What kind of trashy house is this? You’re giving up your bunker to live in this? Are you that broke?

Apparently, the issue was the quality.

To me, it was a camouflage house—functional and disposable. But to other users, it was just a depressing shack. Who wants to look at someone cobbling together a run-down house?

I had failed to meet the audience’s expectations, and it showed.

That aside, Defender continued pestering me, asking bizarre questions:

Defender: (Blushing Defender) Want to team up???

Meanwhile, m9’s star kept rising.

On the day he left his bunker and, under the “escort” of the military, moved into The Hope, his post garnered an astounding 122 comments.

The buzz even reached foreign users on English forums, who dropped by to ask what was happening.

However, as with all viral topics, m9’s saga was quickly consumed and forgotten.

A much larger problem loomed on the horizon, casting m9’s tale into irrelevance.

The first clue had already appeared in m9’s videos:

The military marching toward Seoul.

These weren’t reinforcements.

This was a mutiny.

The Eastern Front forces had abandoned their posts and “advanced” on Seoul in protest.

Their justification?

“Citizens of Korea, your government is lying to you. The president, ministers, and high-ranking officials have fled to Jeju Island with all essential equipment, personnel, and most notably, hunters. They’ve abandoned us.”

They weren’t the only ones.

Another army arrived in Seoul from the west, claiming their own righteous cause:

“The role of Korea’s military is to defend its land and people, not to meddle in politics. History shows the military must never overreach into governance. I, Commander Lim Myung-su, vow to protect Seoul against all threats to our constitution, parliament, and citizens.”

Two armies now faced off in the heart of Seoul.

The capital, already fractured between North and South, was now split East and West.

Soldiers in matching uniforms manned barricades, fortified intersections, and stockpiled weapons as they prepared for confrontation.

While negotiations were underway, the chance of a peaceful resolution seemed slim.

For the first time, even gijayangban, our stoic reporter, expressed despair:

gijayangban: Maybe choosing Seoul was a mistake after all.

I tried contacting Kim Daram to get her take.

No response.

Was she aboard one of those transport planes I’d seen crossing my territory? Or was there another reason for her silence?

As I waited for her reply, I turned back to the forum and noticed a familiar username:

mmmmmmmmm: “The military's arrival is great news.”

Out of curiosity, I checked m9’s recent posts:

mmmmmmmmm: (Seoul Desk) Why Civil War Won’t Happen.txt
mmmmmmmmm: “The Hope” Untouched—Why? Because it’s for the Generals!
mmmmmmmmm: (Peace Talks Imminent) Generals’ Apartments! The Hope!
mmmmmmmmm: Once the negotiations are done, our property values will skyrocket!

While everyone else braced for chaos, m9 sang hymns of optimism, blind to the writing on the wall.

I knew he had likely blocked me, but I sent him a message anyway:

SKELTON: Do you realize how dangerous this is?

To my surprise, he replied immediately:

mmmmmmmmm: I know. But what am I supposed to do about it?

For once, m9 had dropped his facade.

He hadn’t blocked me, and he was fully aware that his choices might lead to disaster.

What’s more, he responded as if he had been waiting for me all along:

mmmmmmmmm: So, SKELTON, Defender’s buddy. You don’t kill people, do you?
SKELTON: Don’t lump me in with those psychopaths.
mmmmmmmmm: You keep checking on me. Hey, can I come to your bunker? I’ve got two dogs. We could eat them if things get bad.

SKELTON: Blocked.

*

Two years and one month since the war began.

There is still no word from Kim Daram.

In Seoul, a civil war has broken out.

Two armies, wearing the same uniforms and speaking the same language, have turned their guns on each other, unleashing the flames of fury.

The week-long civil war has engulfed most of Seoul in flames, creating millions of refugees.

Amid this hellscape, a single photo was posted on the forum.

The photo captured a lone apartment building standing against the backdrop of a fiery sunset that made the sky seem ablaze, with actual burning ruins surrounding it.

It’s a building I recognize.

The Hope.

A symbol of hope.

And one man’s belief.

The ultramodern apartment complex, with only a single household ever having moved in, still stands tilted in a corner of Seoul, serving as a landmark of hope even at this moment.