For three days, the invaders from Failnet wreaked havoc on the forum.
Amid the flood of shitposts, our users held their breath, waiting for the storm that John Nae-non had stirred to subside.
But those bastards showed no sign of leaving. On the contrary, their numbers continued to grow.
Considering the nature of Failnet, it was unlikely the chaos would diminish. If anything, it would increase.
With just a phone, anyone could access Failnet. As long as there was a signal and data, anyone could log in and start wreaking havoc.
Amid this confusion, a single user stepped up.
gijayangban: Failnet User Guide.txt
Journalist Yangban, who had been using Failnet for some time, uploaded a detailed post.
It was a shift in perspective—if we couldn’t use our forum, we might as well play over there.
I’d already been curious about Failnet, so I carefully read through the user guide.
Failnet was fundamentally different from our forum.
Unlike us, who had a single board community, Failnet was a layered structure made up of multiple boards divided by topic.
If someone wanted, they could open a new board with an administrator's approval on any topic they wished.
Boards were ranked by user activity, and the most active board was the "Survival Information Board."
Out of curiosity, I clicked on it.
ㅇㅇ: Can you eat zombie meat?
圣血盃: I tore my asshole while shitting…
ㅇㅇ: The post below is clickbait, don’t bother.
ㅇㅇ: Tips for getting maximum government rations.
ProBeggarMan: (Factos) Kim Ae-ba is just full of shit.
KimAeBa: Get lost, losers lol. I’m studying psychic resonance~
“…Huh.”
The vibe was basically the same as ours.
But there were far more users and far more posts.
Out of curiosity, I clicked on ProBeggarMan’s post.
ProBeggarMan: (Factos) Kim Ae-ba is just full of shit.
"I’m talented, so if I study, I’ll join Guard Branch" (He didn’t even pass the written test, let alone a psychic exam).
"I’m just taking a gap year while begging; I’m not like other failures" (He doesn’t plan to study).
"I have lots of friends, I’m normal, and I just enjoy Failnet for fun" (He’s online all day if the internet isn’t down).
The demographic was younger than ours, that was for sure.
Immature? Well, pot calling the kettle black.
Failnet also had popular posts, just like us.
But because Failnet had so many boards, even popular posts often got buried.
To solve this, John Nae-non created a board that collected all the popular posts from every board into one place.
This was called the “Hot Plate”.
According to Journalist Yangban’s guide, this Hot Plate was the alpha and omega of Failnet.
Excited, I clicked on the Hot Plate.
ㅇㅇ: Legion Faction is withdrawing from Yongsan District.jpg
ㅇㅇ: Mutated tiger spotted on Daegu Palgong Mountain.jpg
Fulcrum88: The True Hunter – Chapter 22
Anonymous: Collecting clean water with a mist trap (Part 2)
ㅇㅇ: Nutria recipe for Nakdong River people: From slaughter to a full-course meal
MeowMeowYowling: Former top idol Freeka spotted on a refugee ship to Jeju Island!
ㅇㅇ: The Hope updates.jpg (Still broken)
“…Wow.”
Unlike the survival board, this one felt amazing.
The quality of posts and the level of information were on a different level compared to ours.
Take Fulcrum88, for example—he’s a top-tier webtoon artist.
He probably earns more from streaming these days, but even someone like me, who doesn’t read webtoons, knew his name.
We have DragonC, a webtoon artist of our own, but honestly, he’s not even close in comparison.
This Hot Plate was incredible.
It was full of fascinating posts.
The saying that “numbers are power” was proving true.
Still, Failnet had its weaknesses.
Because it was a public forum, there were no accounts, which meant no private messaging.
Users weren’t identified, so they could constantly change their nicknames and cause trouble—so-called “troll users”.
Worse, the site itself was slow and unstable.
Downloading even one of Fulcrum88’s webtoons took forever. I had enough time to brew coffee and clean my house while waiting.
Still, I couldn’t deny that Failnet had far more to see.
It was a good sign.
Right now, Failnet users were causing havoc on our forum, but eventually, they’d leave.
Meanwhile, Failnet had boards for everything.
Beauty, games, movies, literature, construction, firearms, sewing, flea markets—you name it.
There were hundreds of boards.
One board caught my eye:
[Pioneer Board]
Pioneers using a board?
It was ranked around 700th, so it didn’t have many users, but it was still active.
However, this board was private.
According to Yangban’s guide, private boards needed an administrator's approval and usually required a password.
I clicked on it.
[Please enter the password.]
As expected, it was locked.
But I wasn’t just any user.
I was Park Kyu—a friend of John Nae-non, the creator of Failnet.
SKELTON: You there? I need a favor.
I sent a message to John Nae-non’s sub-account.
183cm88kg18cm: Oh, Skeletton! What’s up?
SKELTON: Is this John Nae-non?
183cm88kg18cm: No, it’s the same guy you met earlier.
Probably his assistant.
Close enough.
I made my request: the password for the Pioneer Board.
183cm88kg18cm: The Pioneer Board? One moment. The password is [email protected]#4$5%.
SKELTON: Thanks.
Power comes from connections.
In real life, I’m just a washed-up Hunter.
But online, I’m a friend of a god.
Using that divine power, I entered the Pioneer Board.
“…Huh?”
There were posts.
Presumably left by Pioneers.
18KimHakmin: Prevent board closure.
18KimHakmin: Prevent board closure.
18KimHakmin: Prevent board closure.
18KimHakmin: Prevent board closure.
18KimHakmin: Prevent board closure.
“…What the hell?”
I felt an intense urge to comment:
“It’s not ‘계시판,’ it’s ‘게시판,’ idiot.”
The board was dead.
No activity except for 18KimHakmin posting every few weeks to keep it from being automatically deleted.
A year ago, the board had been active.
There were posts like “Pioneer Mindset,” “Pioneer Song,” and “Pioneer Guidelines”—the kind of bleak stuff you’d find on a corporate website.
I clicked on the only post that seemed interesting:
12ChuYongmin: Wake the hell up.
Attached was a blurry photo of a group of refugees—likely Pioneers.
Below the photo, the post read:
Look around.
There are too many useless people.
All they do is whine, protest, and waste food.
We’re not driving out young people who can help the country.
It’s the old bastards who ruined this nation.
They’re just paying for their sins.
Today, I gave a few old trash some guns and sent them out to the countryside.
What are they gonna do?
People like us are what keep this country running."
There were two comments:
8LeeDaeju: “You reading this, Kang Kyung-sik? Get lost, you bastard.”
20PyoKyungsu: “You’re absolutely right, senior!”
It was a post from a year ago.
Not Pioneers, but the people who sent them to die—Pioneer squads.
There was nothing else to gain here.
Just as I was about to leave, a notification popped up from Viva! Apocalypse!
COOKIEMONSTER18: My daughter’s heading your way!
Rebecca sent me a message.
SKELTON: What? Alone?
COOKIEMONSTER18: Pick her up when she arrives.
“…Seriously?”
Just when I was enjoying the internet, an annoying event appeared.
But maybe it wasn’t so bad.
This was the result of the narrowing gap between us.
For a long time, we’d been distant neighbors. But since I brought the scholar’s equipment, it felt like the distance was shrinking.
I checked through the periscope, grabbed my weapon, and stepped out of the bunker.
The abandoned fields were shrouded in twilight.
Far on the horizon, I could see campfires—Pioneers exiled from the city.
To the west, I saw the sniper’s daughter, a rifle on her back, pedaling her bike toward me.
“Skeletton!”
She waved.
“What’s that? I haven’t seen it before.”
“I found it a while ago. Fixed it using instructions I found online.”
“Oh? Mind if I take a look?”
“Sure!”
I examined the bicycle.
It was decent—well-maintained and repaired.
“You fixed it using the internet?”
“Yeah, I looked it up on the laptop you gave me. While Mom was napping.”
“Well done. By the way, I haven’t heard gunshots lately. Are you staying on guard properly?”
“I don’t think I should be shooting right now.”
Sue looked at me with bright, sparkling eyes—innocent yet determined.
It made me think.
When this kid first showed up at my bunker, she was just an ordinary, scared child.
Who would’ve thought she’d grow up so resilient and strong in this cruel, harsh world?
I’ve never had children, and I don’t think I ever could, but—how should I put it?—I felt proud.
“Anything you want to eat?”
“Something juicy.”
“Juicy, huh? Oh, is that a Javelin in the luggage rack?”
Sue nodded.
“You said you were too tired to take it before, so I brought it now.”
“That’s why you came?”
“Yeah. And I was bored. Mom’s on the internet again.”
“Come in.”
Sue stepped into my bunker.
Her eyes briefly wrinkled in distaste as she glanced at the toilet in the center.
“That’s weird.”
“You think so?”
“It’s perverted.”
“… …”
I kept my mouth shut and prepared her a snack.
She liked juicy fruits, so I took out two frozen mangoes, thawed them in the microwave, and served them with just a bit of ice still clinging to the flesh.
“Waaah!”
Gratefully, Sue devoured the snack.
After finishing the mangoes, she stared at me.
“Something on your mind?”
“Skeletton, you’re super strong, right?”
Is this a continuation of the earlier conversation?
“Me?”
“Yeah!”
What should I say?
That I was strong?
No, compared to the average human, I was still strong.
The real problem was that too many people had surpassed me.
After pondering for longer than usual, I answered with a wry smile.
“More or less?”
“Liar. You’re super strong. Aren’t you a Hunter?”
“Hmm. I was a Hunter. Not anymore.”
“Why not?”
Sue tilted her head sharply.
“Well, I don’t have the power anymore. Or the ability, I guess.”
“Ability? You mean psychic power?”
“You know about that, huh? Ah!”
I remembered the litmus-paper-like psychic resonance test Min-hee had given me.
Now that it came up, I might as well test it out.
I had no intention of reporting good results to Min-hee, but you never know.
What if an attack came that I couldn’t handle, and Rebecca died, leaving me critically injured, and Sue alone?
In such a situation, contacting Min-hee might be worth it.
Of course, I wouldn’t move her for free.
Min-hee didn’t give me that psychic test for nothing—she thought it necessary.
If Sue showed potential, Min-hee would come to pick her up without hesitation.
That was 100% certain.
Min-hee, in some ways, was brutally honest.
If she thought you weren’t worth it, she wouldn’t even give you a tissue.
Hell, she didn’t give a cent at Kim Daram’s wedding…
“Sue. Wanna try putting this in your mouth?”
“What’s this?”
“It’s a strip to test if you have Hunter potential.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It says the whiter it turns, the higher your potential. What do you think?”
“I wanna try!”
Sue’s eyes gleamed with determination.
“If I get strong like Skeletton, I can protect everyone.”
“That’s a good attitude.”
“And kill Koreans I don’t like.”
“…Don’t let your mom influence you too much.”
“I’m joking.”
Sue bit down on the test strip.
What would the result be?
Would it turn pure white, so much so that Min-hee would come running?
Or at least a respectable gray, the color of compromise?
In today’s world, gray might be ominous, but for my purposes, it was a necessary safety net.
“Uh.”
Sue tilted her head.
Black.
The strip remained completely unchanged—pitch black.
It was a disappointing result, but for some reason, I laughed.
“Why are you laughing, Skeletton?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“Your turn!”
Sue handed me the strip she’d used.
I grabbed a fresh one instead and bit down.
The moment the bitter strip touched my tongue, I couldn’t help but feel a sliver of hope.
Maybe this time—
Maybe I’d receive that divine call.
Maybe I’d rise again as “Professor,” the name that once felt so undeservedly grand.
Maybe I’d reunite with those who hurt me, and whom I hurt in turn—Kang Han-min, Na Hye-won.
Maybe we’d stride into the rifts together, forcing back the monsters I hated with every fiber of my being.
My hatred hadn’t cooled.
But as always, reality was harsh.
“What the— Skeletton, yours is black too!”
Sue burst into laughter this time.
Smiling bitterly, I stared at the unchanged, black strip.
“… …”
Two black test strips lay side by side.
One belonged to Sue, the girl from a faraway land.
The other belonged to me, Park Gyu.
Sue taped the strips to the bunker wall for safekeeping.
“We’re both Black.”
Despite the result, Sue seemed genuinely happy.
“Let’s go. I’ll take you back to your mom.”
“Okay!”
After Sue left, I stared at the two black test strips for a long time.
I wondered:
Is black really such a bad thing?
“Skeletton, what are you doing? Are you on that weird toilet?”
“… …”
Maybe it was time to seriously reconsider the toilet’s placement.