There were two webtoon authors.

One of them enjoyed a long reign of success at the top, earning significant income and popularity. The other barely clung to the professional sphere, watching younger, fresher authors outpace him, advancing toward the pinnacle he longed for.

One had much to lose.

Before turning 30, he had already amassed enough wealth to live comfortably as a middle-class citizen for the rest of his life. This allowed him to marry and manage assets, things that brought stability and security.

The other did not.

He remained trapped in the instability that comes with being an artist—an existence where living off one’s craft is both a privilege and a curse. He had saved up some money, but it was only enough to scrape by for a lifetime. Marriage was a distant dream, and his personal charm couldn’t compare to that of his successful peer.

Then the world changed.

The popular author, as someone with much to lose, viewed the world optimistically. He dismissed those predicting apocalypse with disdain, criticizing them for their negativity.

Filkrum88: “So many people these days are obsessed with end-of-the-world predictions. Just focus on living your life one day at a time. Build something worth losing instead of worrying about others losing their own.”

This public statement, dripping with contempt for the times, garnered over 2,300 comments, most of which were fervent affirmations of his views.

The other author, however, saw the world through a darker lens.

His despair was fueled by the lukewarm reception of his supposed magnum opus—a mystery thriller he had poured his heart into. Disheartened by its lackluster performance, he added gratuitous violence to the story in a desperate attempt to boost engagement, a decision that backfired and tarnished his career.

He eventually received a warning from the platform, and whether by choice or necessity, he discontinued the series.

The struggling author understood his fate all too well.

DragonC: “Thank you, dear readers, for all your support.”

His farewell post received only 13 comments.

Two of them were spam for illegal Cialis ads.

The fates of these two authors, who had walked such different paths, were completely reversed when the war began.

The popular author, once living in a luxurious suburban mansion in Gyeonggi Province, was pushed back to Seoul, then Bucheon, and finally to a cramped, foul-smelling rental near Incheon’s docks. There, he spent his days trying to comfort his wife amidst the hardships.

Meanwhile, the struggling author poured all his savings into building an impressive bunker equipped with a stable LPG fuel supply, a power generation system, and even satellite internet. He continued creating webtoons, which began to gain traction with the apocalypse-focused community.

If you asked them whether life was better before or after the war, their answers would starkly differ.

At least for DragonC, the once-struggling author, he could confidently say his post-apocalyptic life was an improvement.

This shift in their fortunes became particularly evident thanks to the winds of change brought about by our messiah, John_nenon.

The popular author, now active on Failnet, made a post on our forum.

Filkrum88: “Hello, DragonC. This is Filkrum88.”

He had discovered his former rival, a low-tier author he barely remembered, now thriving in a secure, comfortable space, well-fed and continuing his craft among like-minded doomsayers.

It’s unclear what emotions Filkrum88 felt at first, but the ones we could see were jealousy and anger.

Filkrum88: “So, you’re still pretending to be an author with those mediocre skills of yours? Honestly, I don’t see any talent in your work, but I guess you got lucky preparing for the apocalypse. Enjoy playing the role of a great artist, haha.”

If Filkrum88 had been just another reader, DragonC might have laughed it off.

But Filkrum88 wasn’t just anyone—he was a popular author, a towering figure in the industry before the war.

When someone of that stature picks a fight, it’s hard to ignore.

I don’t create much aside from beatboxing, so I can’t fully grasp how DragonC must have felt. But it was clear he was angry.

DragonC: “Thank you for writing such a lengthy post while struggling with a barely functioning internet connection.”

DragonC, usually composed, couldn’t hide his irritation.

Naturally, our community rallied around him.

keystone: “Why are you trying to bring DragonC down? Chill out.”

Anonymous848: “If you’re so bitter, why didn’t you prepare for the apocalypse? You had the money and resources to do it better than us.”

Anonymous458: “Get lost, loser.”

roka3218: “What’s your problem? Jealous that someone less famous is doing well now?”

SKELTON: (Skelton peace sign) “Let’s not fight, everyone!”

unicorn18: “Hey, Filkrum88, could I commission a piece from you?”

It was a heartwarming display of loyalty.

Moved by our support, DragonC posted a brief response:

DragonC: “You guys…!!”

But Filkrum88 wasn’t one to back down easily.

He was a popular author—someone who had clawed his way to the top by outshining countless competitors.

And he knew exactly how to hurt a fellow creator.

Filkrum88: “Announcing my new series: The Remnants—coming soon.”

He declared his intent to create a new series identical in concept, theme, and even title to DragonC’s magnum opus.

Some might call it plagiarism.

But plagiarism only applies when the imitator is worse than the original.

When someone more famous, popular, and skilled takes an idea and executes it better, the original becomes irrelevant.

Filkrum88: The Remnants, Chapter 1: “Kaildos” by Filkrum88.

It was a masterpiece.

The speed, quality of artwork, meticulous structure, and panel composition surpassed all expectations.

Filkrum88 didn’t just copy DragonC’s work—he reinvented it, elevating it to a level that could only be described as art.

Meanwhile, DragonC’s version felt like a hastily prepared meal from a franchise restaurant compared to Filkrum88’s Michelin-star-level creation.

The climax, where Kaildos shares a final kiss with his wife before meeting his noble end, was so beautifully rendered that it was impossible not to admire it.

Standing triumphantly atop the podium, Filkrum88 taunted his rival:

Filkrum88: “DragonC, are you there? The story’s good, but the execution was terrible, so I reinterpreted it. I’d love to hear your thoughts, as the original creator.”

Completely overshadowed, DragonC disappeared from the forum without a word.

“...Hah.”

This was a battle we couldn’t intervene in.

It wasn’t just a petty argument; it was a clash of pride between two creators.

In the arena of art, DragonC was outmatched.

One week later, DragonC messaged me.

DragonC: “Skelton, that profile you sent me—is it real?”

SKELTON: “?”

DragonC: “You know, the stuff about graduating top of your class at the Guard Academy, being an S-rank, call sign Professor… all that. Was it true?”

“Ah.”

I realized I might have gone too far.

*

In the past, I would have confidently said yes.

Feeling alive, even in this soul-crushing monotony, is critical for someone like me, who harbors a faint hope for long-term survival.

But the situation now isn’t favorable.

There’s a high chance that Woo Min-hee or someone from the government is actively monitoring our forum.

Take Reporter Hyung as an example.

Revealing my true identity in a space riddled with watchful eyes would be a catastrophic mistake.

Especially considering that if Woo Min-hee finds out the truth, "sweet little Eom-chang" (31 years old) might genuinely wind up dead...

Still, my support for DragonC is genuine.

For a long time, he has provided us with mental "vitamins," helping us stave off boredom and apathy.

And he did it all for free.

Ignoring DragonC would be unthinkable for someone like me, known as a man of loyalty in our forum.

That’s why I chose a middle ground.

SKELTON: "There may have been some exaggeration, but it’s true that I was a hunter. Honestly, I’m even better than John_nenon."

It wasn’t a lie.

DragonC: "Your commitment to your persona is pretty impressive."

SKELTON: (Skelton sheepish)

DragonC: "Anyway, if you’re really a hunter, could you help me with something?"

SKELTON: "Help? Me?"

DragonC: "I’m going to challenge Filkrum again."

SKELTON: "?!"

DragonC: "But an ordinary story won’t cut it, right? Let’s be honest, there’s a massive skill gap. So I’ve been thinking: someone like me, lacking in technique, needs to rely on raw material and structure to stand out. That’s why I want to base it on a real hunter’s story."

DragonC: "I have a few questions. Can you help?"

What?

That’s what this is about?

If that’s the case, there’s no reason to refuse.

On the contrary, it’s an honor.

Even if I got 10,000 comments on Failnet, I’m still a small fish here compared to someone like DragonC. The fact that I can help a forum legend like him? That’s incredible.

SKELTON: "An excellent decision."

And thus began the collaboration between Skelton and DragonC, an event that would go down in history.

To be honest, DragonC didn’t trust me much at first.

He seemed desperate, reaching out in every direction to find some leverage against the titan that was Filkrum. When I eagerly agreed to help, it must have felt like grasping at straws for him.

But his doubts didn’t last long.

Because this Park Gyu is the real deal.

The pinnacle of old-school hunters.

I shared insights into pre-Awakened hunter tactics, culture, and combat preparation—carefully curated for storytelling—and gave them freely to DragonC.

At first, he listened with skepticism. But soon, his responses turned to amazement, and even admiration.

DragonC: "Hey, were you really a hunter?"

That one line, uttered midway through our work, revealed just how much his perspective had shifted.

SKELTON: "This stays between us. I don’t want my awesomeness leaking out into the world."

DragonC: "That’s rich, coming from someone who sent me that over-the-top profile intro. What was it? 13th Division? Call sign Professor? Contributor to mutation mechanism research? ‘Super badass’?"

SKELTON: (Skelton flustered) "Uh, well, that was for dramatic effect. Honestly, I wasn’t in the 13th Division or anything. Just your average hunter, haha."

“...Ha.”

This Is Not My Fault.

How could anyone have predicted that John_nenon would invade our forum via Failnet?

And how was I supposed to suspect that Reporter Hyung might actually be Woo Min-hee in disguise?

If I had the insight to foresee all of that, I wouldn’t be sitting in a bunker.

I’d be out there leading humanity as its supreme leader.

Fortunately, it seemed like DragonC didn’t take my catastrophically exaggerated profile seriously.

What he wanted was something else entirely.

DragonC: “Could we meet in person?”

He wanted to meet me.

To my surprise, he wasn’t too far from my territory.

DragonC’s hideout turned out to be in the western wasteland—a barren stretch where, if you stood on tiptoe, you could just about catch a glimpse of the waves of the West Sea.

Even DragonC likely didn’t know this:

Defender had recently moved close to his location.

To be honest, even back during my Defender days, I’d noticed something peculiar about the western coastline—it was an area most people avoided.

Rumors abounded that Chinese forces might attempt a landing there.

And just across the bay, the land was actually under Chinese military control.

While his choice of location was probably made out of ignorance and apathy, it had inadvertently turned out to be as dangerous—and oddly safe—as my own.

Even the most meddlesome pioneers never set foot near the western coast.

Defender:
"West of your place? There’s nothing there. The western coastal area was cleared out at the start of the war, right? The Chinese dropped conventional bombs there to keep us from setting up defenses.”

Regardless, given how close he was, I decided to meet DragonC.

Admittedly, part of the reason was concern over the reckless profile I’d sent him.

But that wasn’t the whole story.

As a fellow member of our community, I simply wanted to help him.

That’s all.

...Right?

*

I Had a Preconceived Notion.

That webtoon authors were young.

It seemed like youth was inherently part of their identity.

But when I met DragonC in person, he was almost in his 50s.

His hair was half-covered in gray, deep wrinkles lined his face, and his complexion was an unhealthy reddish tone.

Probably due to liver issues.

His breath carried the pungent stench of someone who smoked far too many cigarettes.

“Hello, I’m Skelton.”

I found myself naturally using formal speech—it just felt appropriate.

“Why so formal? We’re both from the same board,” DragonC said with a wave of his hand. “Call me DragonC. Let’s keep it casual.”

Despite his worn appearance, his voice carried a surprising youthfulness.

“Nice to meet you, DragonC. I’m Skelton.”

“You’re younger than I imagined. From your writing style, I thought you’d be my age.”

He extended his hand with a faint smile in his wrinkled eyes.

His palm was calloused—almost as much as mine.

Even people who wield pens instead of weapons could end up with such tough hands.

The area around his bunker was eerily quiet.

“Here,” DragonC handed me a pair of binoculars.

“You see that red flag? Those are the Chinese. They haven’t moved an inch. Below them is a zombie nest. Probably some monsters nearby too.”

Sure enough, across the sea, I could make out the small-scale Chinese infantry unit Ji Young-hee had mentioned.

But they didn’t look like soldiers.

They were just another group of survivors, struggling to stay alive.

Instead of rifles, they carried farming tools, diligently tending to their crops in perfect synchronicity, guided by the sound of a whistle.

“Alright, shall we get started?”

DragonC’s enthusiasm was evident.

“Let’s create the immortal masterpiece that’ll crush that cocky little punk, Pilkrum!”

What he wanted from me was the authentic stance and techniques of a real hunter:

How to hold a gun, how to handle weapons, how to fight against monsters.

To avoid drawing attention to my axe, I demonstrated with a makeshift dagger and a firearm.

Snap! Snap!

Precise stances. Perfectly executed movements.

The fundamentals of an old-school hunter who once carried the title Professor came alive again on the desolate coastline.

“Wow…”

DragonC’s jaw dropped.

“Skelton, you’re no joke.”

“…My callsign wasn’t really ‘Professor.’ It was DANDY. D.A.N.D.Y.”

“Forget the callsign. You’re incredible!”

A grin of triumph spread across DragonC’s face.

“Seriously… maybe I can win this after all…”