John Nae-non.

Currently in his mid-30s, his real name is Goo Ssang-hyo, and by old-school standards, he is a D-Class Hunter.

He didn’t go to the same school as me.

Instead, he was trained at a specialized institution and earned his Hunter qualification – what people call a “Training Institute Hunter.”

Nowadays, whether someone is school-trained or institute-trained, if they’re not Awakened, they’re treated like old relics.

So, what happened to John Nae-non?

Some say he’s dead, while others claim he’s still alive.

One thing is certain: John Nae-non used the fame he gained from the forum to sell lecture tickets. Like most people of his kind, he became famous simply for being famous and raked in money hand over fist.

When he got scorned on the forum for stealing content without credit, he roared back with a “Negeum-ma!”** – a savage retort. While part of that reaction stemmed from his disappointment in the forum, the immense wealth he accumulated probably played a bigger role.

By the time I returned to the forum, John Nae-non had stopped doing lectures entirely.

According to rumors, our dear Mr. John Nae-non had started providing “customized doom-prepper packages” for the rich and powerful.

After the war broke out, the rich John Nae-non vanished completely.

Some speculated that the attention-hungry man must have bought a new account and was secretly active under an alias. Yet no one ever figured out which account was his.

Two years and five months into the war.

After a long and dreadful winter, a spring colder than usual arrived.

And like magic, my role model—whom I thought I’d never see again—suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

SKELTON: Who are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. You haven’t posted anything either.

SKELTON: (Skeletton) Could it be… John Nae-non?

Message from 183cm88kg18cm: This account is indeed John Nae-non’s sub-account. But I’m not John Nae-non. I’m his subordinate.

SKELTON: (Skeletton shocked) His subordinate?

Message from 183cm88kg18cm: (John Nae-non’s subordinate) John Nae-non wishes to see you.

What the hell is with this guy’s nickname?

It’s definitely John Nae-non’s kind of sense of humor, but was he really that tall?

And 88 kilograms? That’s not exactly light for someone showing off their physique. Even if he bulked up, maintaining that kind of muscle mass in this era? Unlikely.

But 18 centimeters? Seriously, what the hell does that even mean?

Could people already lose their minds before the war?

Anyway, this self-proclaimed subordinate using John Nae-non’s sub-account left me with some thoughts.

First of all, John Nae-non seemed to be in Seoul.

They even offered to share his exact location if I wanted it.

But why now? And why would a subordinate, not John Nae-non himself, send me this message?

When I pressed this “18cm” guy for answers, he dodged the question, insisting that he was just a messenger acting on behalf of John Nae-non.

It seemed like what John Nae-non wanted was to meet me.

But considering the current situation—pioneers spreading out in every direction—traveling anywhere right now is no joke.

It’s not like the government is controlling the roads like in the past. Moving around in this chaos? It could mean death.

SKELTON: I’m very sorry, but I don’t think I can make it. The situation is just too dangerous right now.

I sent a polite rejection message.

Then, I messaged another user.

The recipient was Foxgames.

He’s the game developer who once made that “Christmas Tree Decorating” feature.

SKELTON: I need a favor.

Back in the day, I wouldn’t have even tried asking.

He’s a named user, while I’m basically bottom-tier, grouped with Unicorn18.

But after the Chouchou incident, my reputation had improved. I had earned some confidence.

Message from Foxgames: You want to know who added a message to your tree two years ago?

As expected, Foxgames agreed to help without hesitation.

My request was simple.

I wanted him to find out the identity of the user who had decorated my Christmas tree.

Last year, no one added anything. But two years ago, someone placed a decoration on my tree labeled “John Nae-non.”

At the time, I was mildly curious but didn’t care too much.

It was anonymous, and considering my slight acquaintance with John Nae-non, I thought maybe I had subconsciously mimicked his style and added it myself.

But with this self-proclaimed subordinate of John Nae-non popping up, I needed confirmation.

A short while later, Foxgames sent me the user’s identity.

Message from Foxgames: It’s that 183cm-something-something guy. You know him? 18cm? Who the hell is this guy?

Exactly.

It’s the same 18cm guy I’m messaging right now.

Feeling a rare wave of affection for the forum, I thanked Foxgames.

SKELTON: (Skeletton thankful) Thanks.

Message from Foxgames: Hey, Skeletton. There’s something I want to ask you, too.

SKELTON: ?

What does he want to ask?

A mix of worry and curiosity filled me as Foxgames replied.

Message from Foxgames: Don’t you feel like the forum is slowing down? Compared to the early days, it feels like it’s running at half speed.

SKELTON: It definitely has slowed down. We can’t even upload videos in high quality anymore. But isn’t that inevitable?

Message from Foxgames: Lately, the traffic has suddenly spiked. There’s no reason for that on our end. Do you think someone’s trying to break in? I mean, this place is satellite-based, but I’ve heard it’s still connected to external internet lines.

The forum being slow?

It’s true, but honestly, as long as we can still upload posts and pictures, isn’t that enough?

Sure, not being able to upload my “Skeletton’s Beatbox Series” sucks.

But expecting the forum to stay perfectly functional while everything else crumbles? That feels selfish.

Then Foxgames revealed why he was so sensitive about the forum’s speed.

Message from Foxgames: I’m working on a secret game. It’s a low-level MMORPG, but I have no idea how Starlink servers work. That’s why I brought it up.

An MMORPG?

Like one of those multiplayer online games?

I’m not much of a gamer, so I don’t really get it.

But considering Foxgames has brought us plenty of small, satisfying games in the past, if he’s calling this one his “secret weapon”, it must be something special.

It would be a big morale boost for us users who are getting more exhausted by the day.

In any case, I found out who had added the decoration to my tree.

John Nae-non.

He was here.

*

John Nae-non’s survival was certainly surprising.

But honestly, it didn’t resonate with me. It wasn’t something to get excited about or even worth fussing over.

How should I put it? I felt indifferent.

The reality I faced was far too harsh to waste time reminiscing about an old role model.

While Cho Sung-yong had yet to find my territory, drones frequently appeared in the skies, and ominous gunshots echoed from the north.

The gunfire wasn’t constant, but its irregular patterns—coming from different directions at varying distances—suggested two hostile groups were likely at a standstill, facing each other.

Even the Sniper’s side seemed uneasy; they’d been messaging me constantly to ask about the situation.

Message from COOKIEMONSTER18: Skeletton! It’s Soo! The north is so noisy. What’s going on?

The messages came from the Sniper’s daughter.

Her mother, Rebecca, wasn’t great with Korean, so her sharp and intelligent daughter would write messages and check in on me.

That arrangement was my request.

Rebecca didn’t have a personal identification code, so she had no choice but to communicate through shared radio frequencies. And against formidable opponents like Cho Sung-yong, open transmissions risked interception.

But encrypted satellite signals? Those were untouchable.

SKELTON: Not sure, but it seems like people are fighting each other. Do you have enough food?

Message from COOKIEMONSTER18: Yeah. But we’re starting to run low.

SKELTON: What about bullets?

Message from COOKIEMONSTER18: We have plenty.

SKELTON: How’s the Javelin? No discharges or anything like that, right?

Message from COOKIEMONSTER18: No problem! Mom said she might come pick one up soon.

SKELTON: Anything you feel like eating?

Message from COOKIEMONSTER18: Something juicy!

SKELTON: You mean something with a lot of juice?

Message from COOKIEMONSTER18: Yeah!

People say text-based conversations have their limitations.

Sure, it’s convenient, but it can’t convey the emotions or warmth hidden in a person’s voice. That makes it a half-hearted form of conversation.

But if you’re someone unused to warmth, wouldn’t keeping that slight emotional wall be better?

It’s kind of like a confession booth, isn’t it?

Bringing Sunbi’s laptop and satellite equipment had turned out to be a good decision.

Even though the Sniper and I were technically neighbors, it felt like we were closing the gap between us.

But that wasn’t all Sunbi had left behind.

Message from COOKIEMONSTER18: The southeast is glowing with some weird light.

Being able to connect to the internet meant you could send photos—something you couldn’t do with just voices.

Soo sent me a photo.

“… … …”

For a moment, I doubted my eyes.

The abandoned forest was eerily illuminated by a grayish-white light, cutting through the darkness like a haunting glow.

Monsters.

Monsters had pushed their way to the edge of my territory and were now encroaching on the surrounding areas.

Where had they come from?

Anywhere. They could have come from anywhere.

There were a total of four rifts that had appeared in South Korea.

Paju, Yangsan, Gochang, and Jeju.

The situations in Yangsan and Gochang were slightly better than Paju.

The rift strength in those areas was weaker, and the regional armies hadn’t been entangled in civil wars. Instead, they fortified their front lines and chose to become local warlords.

Those monsters had undoubtedly come from the north.

Or perhaps they’d crossed over directly from North Korea.

SKELTON: When did these things start appearing?

Message from COOKIEMONSTER18: Two days ago.

Two days.

That wasn’t long.

The monsters observed from the Sniper’s territory were likely small, stationary types.

Only stationary monsters could build nests and survive in defiance of Earth’s will.

The scariest thing about monsters isn’t their combat strength.

Their danger comes from their very existence.

There’s a perfect example they used to teach us in school.

Imagine humans build a factory in a certain location.

The factory produces smoke and discharges wastewater, which kills off all the plants and animals nearby.

The factory didn’t actively kill those plants and animals. They died simply as a natural consequence of the factory producing goods.

It’s the same thing.

Monsters infect everything around them with their essence, staining their environment with “the colors of the otherworld.”

Mutation is the most common of those otherworldly colors.

That’s why Kyle Dos went mad—his mind had absorbed too much of the otherworld’s essence.

Allowing something like that to linger near my territory was unacceptable.

If left alone, the areas around me could decay even faster than Seoul.

I knew that the rift in Xinjiang had expanded thousands of times faster than the one in Beijing.

SKELTON: I’m coming. Tell your mom not to shoot me.

Message from COOKIEMONSTER18: Mom stayed up all night on the computer, so she’s taking a nap. :(

*

The monsters that hunters of our outdated era typically faced were small types.

Most of them were shredded apart by overwhelming long-range artillery fire before they had a chance to do anything. But occasionally, a few would teleport or get lucky and breach our strongholds.

Once they infiltrated our bases, there were very few options left.

Their reflective barriers nullified our standard attacks.

It was in those moments—when the soldiers were utterly helpless—that we hunters made our move.

Hunters aren’t soldiers.

For a skilled soldier, taking cover is the same as ensuring survival.

But for us hunters, taking cover is no different than closing your eyes in the face of a flying blade.

Hunting as a hunter requires incredibly coordinated teamwork, flawless precision, and above all, guts of steel.

Like the hunters of Joseon who faced house-sized tigers with single-shot matchlock rifles, we face death without flinching and gamble our luck and lives every second to kill humanity’s enemies.

At one point, I was considered the best of the best in that field.

There’s almost no small monster I can’t deal with.

Most of them die once I manage to close the distance, which is the greatest challenge.

Luckily, thanks to Viva! Apocalypse!, I detected the monster early.

It usually takes about two weeks for monsters to fully establish their nests.

Once the nest is complete, breaking through is near impossible, and even approaching it becomes a death wish.

But two days? At most a week?

That’s doable.

With Cho Sung-yong’s drones still patrolling and pioneers scattered everywhere, I left my bunker.

“Over there!”

Rebecca pointed to a mountain region about 4 kilometers from her territory, her eyes hollow and fatigued.

At first glance, nothing seemed unusual.

But it was clear.

The monster had settled there recently.

Rebecca was an exceptional sniper, but she had no experience fighting monsters.

So she wouldn’t be any help here.

In fact, her sniping skills could end up getting her killed.

This was my fight.

The one thing I excel at—the thing I’ve longed for.

I grabbed my two finely-sharpened axes and slowly approached the area.

Sure enough, as I moved deeper in, I saw tree branches twisted into unnatural shapes.

That’s the effect of erosion.

There would be humanity’s enemy.

And unless there was one specific exception, I would kill it and return.

“…”

I saw it.

A statue, buried as if dead among the shriveled winter trees.

It looked like someone had hammered a massive spike into the forearm of a praying mantis, its lower body an angular triangle half-buried in the earth, its head elongated in a disturbing gray-white mass devoid of eyes, nose, or mouth—the very features that give humans emotions.

I had encountered the exception.

A Dancer-type.

The one monster I cannot kill in close combat.

Or perhaps… I could.

But I wasn’t about to bet everything I had on a 5% chance.

*

“… … …”

Identification Code: REDMASK.

I stared at the radio, unmoving, for fifteen minutes.

The only person I could realistically reach out to right now was Woo Min-hee.

She’s the only one who could help me.

What I needed was Hunter Equipment—the anti-monster weapons. But if she came here personally?

She could tear that creature apart single-handedly.

She’s Awakened.

A Level 12 psychic, to be exact.

But I’m not foolish enough to ignore what reaching out to her would mean.

She’s not Kim Daram.

She’s no longer the Kim Daram whose voice I can barely even remember anymore…

“…”

I logged into the community to catch my breath.

I needed to calm my thoughts and distract myself with something entertaining.

There was a message waiting for me.

Message from 183cm88kg18cm: Apologies, but John Nae-non desperately wishes to see you, Skeletton.

“Fuck.”

That subordinate of John Nae-non again?

If I had time to spare, I might have chatted back and forth for a bit.

But not now.

He’s a man of the past.

He can’t help me with my current problem.

I didn’t want to continue this back-and-forth, so I made an unreasonable demand.

SKELTON: If you give me Hunter Equipment, I’ll think about it.

Message from 183cm88kg18cm: Hunter Equipment?

SKELTON: The Mk-7 Harpoonizer.

To make myself perfectly clear, I specified the exact model I wanted.

If he started saying nonsense, I planned to block him immediately.

I was far too on edge right now.

Message from 183cm88kg18cm: He says he has it.