NoveLight ™
According to the Foreign Language Orthography Rules issued by the Ministry of Education in 1986, foreign names should be transcribed based on local pronunciation.
When I was in China, I did not abide by this directive, for a complex set of reasons.
At the time, I had no intention of learning or understanding their language.
We were unwelcome guests, and our purpose was equally unwelcome.
Our mission wasn’t to save China.
The orders I received from the government were to gather data on the types and behavior of monsters appearing in high-intensity rifts, the changes occurring in rift zones, and, particularly, how these changes affected humans.
As a result, we avoided the battles they desperately needed us to fight, making excuses and instead choosing only the regions and engagements that benefited us.
The vast experience and data we collected later became invaluable for Korea’s defense efforts. It also played a significant role in shaping my current nihilistic outlook.
In that China, there was a man named Ma Won-gap.
He was an ordinary resident of a rift zone until he observed monsters walking past him without any hostility. Inspired by this revelation, he had what he described as a great epiphany. And, as those who claim to have great epiphanies often do, he founded a new religion.
This new religion’s name was met with ridicule by the Chinese colleague I worked alongside. He dismissed it as the kind of name someone who wasted their days indulging in wuxia or fantasy novels might come up with.
However, contrary to his derision, the Religion of All Streams Returning to the Source (Manryu Gwijeonggyo) spread rapidly within the rift zones, following a trajectory not unlike the cult that had once brought down the Qing Dynasty.
Among the Korean hunters deployed there, some reportedly killed more cultists than monsters.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Defender belonged to such a cohort.
Now, Ma Won-gap, his religion, and its followers have all been consumed by the flames of destruction. But things that burn often share similar traits.
Like the trees in a forest, they don’t flee. Instead, they stand firm, waiting for the flames to consume them.
Someone I knew also had that kind of flammability.
*
It has been two years and two months since the war began.
And still, no word from Kim Daram.
From afar, I can hear the distant thuds of gunfire.
Here we go again.
The radio speaks of ongoing negotiations, but clearly, reality has other plans.
Checking the weather outside, it’s -5°C. Likely colder than usual, perhaps a lingering effect of the global nuclear war last year.
Inside my heated tent, I rose, washed my face, and prepared breakfast: half a head of cabbage.
Two years ago, I never would’ve imagined living off cabbage alone. But now, after growing tired of canned and preserved foods, this freshly harvested seasonal vegetable feels like a delicacy.
As I casually tore the cabbage into pieces and ate with my hands, I scanned the surroundings with my binoculars.
A group of refugees trudged south, cutting across the golf course. Their direction made me wonder—are they heading toward where the sniper mother and daughter live?
Soon, I might hear gunfire.
After breakfast, I took a stroll around my domain to aid digestion and conduct a light patrol.
No unusual activity—at least for now.
Perhaps it’s premature to conclude, but it feels like today might be another peaceful day.
While my neighborhood remained tranquil, Seoul was ablaze with civil war.
A conflict that would decide the fate of South Korea now raged in its capital, with millions of citizens caught in the crossfire. Both sides rained fire and blood upon each other in a relentless killing spree.
Yet, the civil war wasn’t entirely without benefit—at least for me.
Since it began, the annoying pioneers have disappeared entirely.
Perhaps they were conscripted into battle, as the pioneer corps operated under military oversight.
Interestingly, discussions of the civil war have largely vanished from the forum. Aside from the occasional post showing photos of shell impacts near someone’s home, the topic seemed to have been collectively abandoned.
This silence contrasts starkly with the pre-war period, when talks of impending civil unrest dominated the board.
The primary reason was likely the sudden silence of the journalist, a forum member who had been reporting updates from Seoul. But it’s also true that the war had become an unavoidable reality—something everyone had decided there was no need to dwell on.
The outcome of the war, regardless of who seized power or controlled Seoul, would inevitably send shockwaves rippling through our lives.
And most likely, in ways that would not be good.
Perhaps that’s why the forum had retreated into a collective escapism, flourishing with lighthearted, trivial discussions.
I joined this silent pact of denial, posting meaningless threads of my own.
SKELTON: (Skelton Sound) Skelton’s Beatbox Vol. 23
Then, in the midst of these monotonous days, something happened that shook the entire board.
As always, it was a big event brought about by a big name.
One of the forum’s “Four Kings,” the former webtoon artist DragonC, announced a new project.
DragonC: Preparing to launch my latest work, “The Remnant.”
The title, The Remnant, which referred to “leftovers” or “residue,” was, in essence, a story about us—the survivors, the doomsayers.
Like any creator aspiring to produce their magnum opus, DragonC had chosen to immortalize humanity’s last moments.
That alone would’ve been enough to send the board into a frenzy. But DragonC didn’t stop there.
As if to practice the adage that art reflects reality, DragonC announced that he would be casting forum members as the story’s main and supporting characters.
DragonC:
“The Remnant” Casting Call
P.S. No tall tales, please.
“...Hah.”
When I first saw the casting call, I couldn’t help but smirk.
This was practically written for me, wasn’t it?
Well, except for points 3 and 4, of course.
I had everything else—unique traits, a fascinating background, neighbors with plenty of stories to tell.
Sure, my reputation on the forum had hit rock bottom lately, but starring in DragonC’s latest work could rebuild my standing and possibly grant me immortality.
Setting aside concerns over my identity, which had once been a closely guarded secret, I drafted a new application and sent it to DragonC without hesitation.
...
...
When I hit “send,” I was convinced I was a shoo-in for a lead role.
I was so confident that I even omitted mentioning the juicy story of the Defender siblings.
The reply came within a minute.
A bit too quick, perhaps.
Or maybe DragonC was so awestruck by my credentials that he couldn’t resist reaching out immediately.
DragonC: Are you joking?
“?”
SKELTON: Not a joke. 100% real.
DragonC: And I’m supposed to believe that tall tale? Even a grade-schooler could write a better backstory.
SKELTON: It’s “better,” not “batter.”
DragonC: Your weird header and typo corrections are your only redeeming qualities. Thanks for applying, but stop wasting my time.
SKELTON: (Skelton outraged) I’m telling the truth.
DragonC: Enough with the excuses. You have nothing worth turning into a story.
SKELTON: ...What if I told you I was a woman?
DragonC: Blocked.
And just like that, my bid for stardom was over.
Many others faced similar rejections, even some familiar faces.
Defender: With my unique personality, I should at least get a supporting role, don’t you think?
Unsurprisingly, Defender was excluded. Given DragonC’s preference for less provocative narratives, someone with Defender’s reputation didn’t stand a chance.
Still, Defender seemed particularly persistent, to the point that DragonC eventually called him out publicly.
DragonC: Defender keeps messaging me. Here’s why you can’t be in my webtoon: your presence would completely change the genre.
Defender: To what?
DragonC: Psychopath thriller... or maybe splatter horror?
Defender: ㅠㅠ
After being thoroughly rebuffed, Defender messaged me, as expected.
Defender: Hey, Skelton, what if I pretended to be a woman?
SKELTON: You mean your sister?
Defender: Miss me?
SKELTON: What about your brother?
Defender: Oh, he’s still obsessed with being in the webtoon. I don’t even read DragonC’s stuff—it’s boring as hell.
SKELTON: Yeah, no lies detected.
Despite his eccentricities, Defender wasn’t about to reveal his sister’s existence. Losing the element of surprise that their 2-in-1 killing duo provided wasn’t an option.
Meanwhile, my webtoon aspirations weren’t entirely dashed—I still had a trump card.
It lay in the sniper mother and daughter who lived to the south.
With a photo of them and a touching backstory, I could still sway DragonC.
Or so I thought.
“Skelton? What’s up?” the mother’s voice crackled over the radio.
“Can we meet briefly?”
“Got any meds?”
“What kind of meds?”
“Morphine. Fentanyl. You know.”
Turns out, even their Korean had improved. I guess spending all day perched on rooftops listening to radio chatter paid off.
“Skelton!” the daughter chimed in, excited as ever.
“Hey there. Long time no see.”
“What’d you eat today?”
“Cabbage.”
“What’s that?”
“Primitive kimchi, I guess?”
With a warm smile, I continued the conversation until—
“Meds.”
The mother cut in firmly, blocking further pleasantries.
“No meds, no meeting.”
“Just one second! Quick photo, click! Okay? Chocolate!”
The connection abruptly ended.
Mission failed.
There’s nothing I can do about it.
After all, narcotics are a last resort, used only for surgeries or to endure extreme pain.
Even I managed to acquire only a small amount with great difficulty—giving it away for something so trivial just isn’t an option.
Still, I can’t help but wonder: can that mother and daughter survive through this winter?
Food might not be the issue, but enduring two Korean winters in a row is no small feat.
In any case, my ambitious attempt to land a role in the webtoon came to an unceremonious end.
*
Three days later.
The day a fighter jet flying overhead was struck by a missile, shattered in midair, and crashed westward.
DragonC announced the protagonist of The Remnant.
And to my surprise, it was someone I knew well—one of the few people I’d actually met from the community.
DragonC: "The lead for The Remnant is Kyle_Dos!"
Kyle_Dos.
He was an active member on the forum, maintaining a decent reputation and belonging to the "friendship clique" that included users like Anonymous848 and Anonymous458.
But that was it.
He wasn’t someone you’d dislike, but he wasn’t exactly remarkable either.
When I met him in person to exchange capsules, he struck me as an ordinary man in his early thirties.
Not a Hunter, not a trained soldier.
So, what made him special enough to catch DragonC’s eye?
The answer lay in a post Kyle_Dos had written himself.
Kyle_Dos: "So, I recently... found myself a wife."
The story began shortly after I’d helped Kyle_Dos retrieve some capsules near his bunker.
Relieved of immediate concerns, he took on the role of a seasoned doomsday survivor, rigorously patrolling his bunker’s surroundings every day, ensuring no change, no matter how small, went unnoticed.
Then one day, as Kyle_Dos recalls, it happened.
It must have been late spring.
He came face-to-face with something he had long forgotten but always yearned for.
A woman.
Young, attractive, and most importantly, in need of protection.
The way Kyle_Dos described their meeting, it read like a dream.
Their dynamic—a mild-mannered, steadfast man and a captivating woman with a vulnerable side—wove a tale of cautious friendship blossoming into something deeper, eventually uniting the two as one.
It wasn’t just a story of survival; it was a quintessential fantasy, tugging at the heartstrings of lonely men and appealing to the universal hunger for connection.