Chapter 124
Chapter 124
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 124
Chapter Title: 66. Monster Park (2)
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Anonymous 1523 hasn't changed a bit.
Still screaming his head off, throwing tantrums, and spewing negativity at everyone.
But there's no such thing as a free ride forever.
No matter how much he yells, provokes, and baits, the consistent lack of even a single glance is starting to wear him down. You can see it.
Maybe that's why.
The last post he made, about photos from Jeju Island, contained material no one could have imagined.
Jeju Island.
It popped up out of nowhere amid thousands of shitposts calling it the "paradise" we once dreamed of.
"..."
I was probably the only one who saw that photo.
When I clicked on the post, the view count was 0. By the time I refreshed, it was gone.
So, Anonymous 1523 impulsively posted a photo from his Jeju days, and before anyone else could see it, he panicked and deleted it himself. I, Park Gyu, was the only one who caught it in that brief window.
He had good reason to scramble and erase it.
The landscape of Jeju Island in the photo was nothing like what we knew—or what the government had propagandized.
No lush green nature, no exotic volcanic vistas, no sunlit seas, no towering Hallasan. None of the scenery summed up by that hackneyed word "paradise."
Not even the romantic seaside mega-housing complexes the government hyped up.
The island had turned into a gray wasteland of ruins.
Forests burned to ash, volcanic rock terrain buried under poured concrete fortresses, and enormous walls—hundreds of meters high, purpose unknown—slicing the entire island like pieces of pie.
Beyond those walls, a single mountain rose starkly, vaguely hinting that this was Jeju.
That photo was probably the real Jeju Island.
A bleak, godforsaken battlefield a million light-years from paradise—that's the true face of the island.
Yet Anonymous 1523 still misses it. Probably because he yearns for the peer group he had there.
Most of the photos he posted featured lithe, carefree high school kids—boys and girls whose every gesture seemed to paint dreams—basking like summer sunlight.
Apart from one landscape shot, the island's true desolation was only visible behind them.
"..."
I glanced at the group photo Woo Min-hee had hung on the wall for show.
People I once couldn't even bear to touch are now ones I can face squarely with open eyes.
Kang Han-min and Na Hye-in.
What are those two seeing on Jeju Island? What battles are they fighting?
I, an old-era Hunter, can't grasp what war they're waging that demands turning the whole island into a massive military base.
But I think I get a bit why Woo Min-hee clings so desperately to a nation on the brink, scraping together Awakened resources.
They're fighting a desperate struggle over there too.
For the survival of Korea—no, humanity itself.
An alert just popped up.
One of my favorited users posted something new.
I only have one favorited user right now.
It's him.
I still feel some resistance toward this guy.
But after seeing that photo he posted, it's nothing more than childish pettiness.
Tap tap tap.
I sent a message.
I wouldn't mind if he ignored me.
But deep down, I was sure he'd take the hand I was offering.
Just as I expected.
He must be bored out of his mind.
Lonely as hell.
That's why he subconsciously self-sabotaged by posting that real Jeju photo.
It's a common path for newbies who don't fit into internet boards and communities.
Sure, this SKELTON gets flamed and plays the underdog, but no one denies I'm an oldbie veteran user.
Having me at the top of this newbie's head is only natural.
I picked words he'd like and typed them out.
I wonder what reaction he'll have.
Exactly the reaction I hoped for.
Tap tap tap.
"..."
Tap tap.
What to ask first.
Well, the answer's obvious.
I want to know what those two are doing.
The true actions of the people who once loomed as shadows in my heart, the ones I refused to look at—I want to know.
But as always, what you want never comes easy.
Talking to him for just a bit, I notice this Anonymous 1523 dude loves his "lol"s.
He's spamming them nonstop.
And sure enough.
Guess that's the end of chatting with this guy for today.
He's a total asshole, but the info he gave beats anything I've scraped from Viva! Apocalypse! so far.
Who'd have thought I'd learn the truth about that "paradise" from a punk like him.
I'd vaguely suspected as much.
Closing Rifts can't be as easy as they make it sound.
Beyond the Rifts are countless monsters.
When I realized those distant mountain-like shapes were massive swarms of colossal monsters, I lost the will to fight—and I wasn't the only one.
Closing Rifts in a place like that?
Of course it'd draw the monsters' attention.
They don't swarm much, but they're not dumb enough to ignore a huge disturbance in their turf.
Rebecca's intel suggests they have brains, like the giant general-type that forced my retirement.
Just my speculation, though.
Slurp.
I sipped my coffee and carefully examined the photo I'd saved from Anonymous 1523.
One landscape, the rest all him and his peers.
At first, I only looked at the scenery.
I even clumsily Photoshopped out the people from the portraits, saving just the backgrounds.
But staring at them more, my eyes drifted to the faces.
Six kids in total.
Three boys, three girls.
All in school uniforms—design similar to the new academy's.
No telling which is Anonymous 1523.
Probably one of the guys.
One dude stands out: tall, curly hair, handsome enough to make even me swoon—gentle eyes, soft vibe.
The girls' gazes mostly point his way.
Not him, I bet.
If he were Anonymous 1523, his posts would be warmer.
Another boy: shorter, buzzcut, but bursting with energy, confident spark in his eyes—vibrant type radiating through the photo.
Not him either.
Doesn't match the image I've built of Anonymous 1523. A million miles off.
Process of elimination points to the last one.
The scrawny, plain, kinda dorky kid lurking awkwardly in the corner of every shot, lacking confidence.
That's gotta be Anonymous 1523.
His gaze locks on one girl out of the three: not the idol-pretty stunner who grabs your eyes first, but the plain-but-cute one next to her, dressed fashionably, into her looks.
But that girl's eyes never once lingered on him.
Not even once.
"..."
Beep beep beep.
The K-walkie-talkie shattered the silence of the darkened bunker.
Woo Min-hee.
"Senior. It's almost ready. Hang tight. Might even get Yang Sang-gil to you before winter."
The brief comms ended, and I stared quietly at the boy in the corner of the photo.
That shy face gazing from the edge—not at the prettiest girl, but the ordinary one—looked... awkward, somehow.
I've seen Hyman Minsky's model before.
It's used to explain crashes in stocks and such—familiar to anyone who's browsed the net or news.
Roughly: euphoria → greed → new paradigm → denial → fear → depression → capitulation.
The villains popping up on our board follow a similar arc.
They rampage endlessly at first, then denial amid user indifference, tantrums taper off, and they settle into normal users.
m9 went through it before going quiet. Original Dongtanmom traced the same path before getting killed by raiders.
Anonymous 1523—Yang Sang-gil's son with no edge beyond that—fitting the standard model is as natural as his run-of-the-mill trash talk.
...
...
He's starting to feel the loneliness, reaching out for connection.
The board's whole point is killing that isolation, so yeah, that's how you connect.
Posts that got zero views or replies started picking up sporadic comments.
PaleNet randos who don't know him well, probably.
But building connections like this, he might actually fit in before he vanishes.
I don't like the guy or anything, but knowing his fate, I reached out once.
I showed him the perks I'd gotten.
The reply came fast.