Chapter 199
Chapter 199
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 199
Chapter Title: 90. Foxgame (3)
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"Ah, so you're SKELTON?"
Even after my repeated explanations, Foxgame couldn't quite accept that I was SKELTON at face value.
"The image I had in mind is so different. I pictured someone older than me, stubbornly dressing in trendy clothes that didn't suit their age."
"...I am SKELTON. Let's speak casually. We're internet buddies anyway."
"No, I prefer polite speech. I've used it for nearly half my life, so anything else feels awkward and foreign on my tongue. It's like some mysterious language between dialect and a foreign tongue."
Foxgame's first impression—the true legend of our board—was... well, underwhelming.
Not great, to put it mildly.
He made occasional eye contact, but his gaze mostly drifted away. There was a subtle yet firm distance he kept, and above all, he seemed uncomfortable with the fact that I'd shown up at his door.
"How did you find this place?"
No matter how close internet friends might be, an uninvited guest showing up unannounced would unsettle anyone.
I gave a light explanation.
There'd been some chatter on the board, people were curious, so I'd come to check in.
"Viva Bot? The admin?"
Foxgame had been mostly indifferent up to that point, but he finally showed a flicker of surprise when I mentioned getting the address from Viva Bot.
"Yeah. Everyone's worried."
"Worried..."
Foxgame gave a wry smile as he stared blankly at the rice paddies that had turned into a jungle.
"I'm not someone worth worrying over, though."
"Don't say that. You're hugely popular online, Foxgame. A named user, right?"
"Named user? Haha. No way."
"Anyway, please just post a sign-of-life update. With people dropping off left and right already, losing a named like you would make the board's gloomy vibe even worse."
I figured I'd said what I came to say and head out.
Since he clearly wasn't thrilled about me being here.
But as I turned to leave, Foxgame stopped me.
"Wait, want to grab some tea in my bunker?"
What had changed his mind?
Peeking into someone else's bunker was always welcome.
Especially since I'd heard online that Foxgame was worth tens of billions. I felt a spark of curiosity.
What differences would there be between his bunker and Park Gyu's?
Mine had cost a fortune by civilian standards, but in the world of the ultra-rich, it was pocket change.
Still, I'd made up for the shortfall with hard work and meticulous planning, creating a hideout I could proudly show anywhere in the world.
Looking at top global bunkers posted in the pre-war "Brag About Your Bunker" threads had convinced me mine held its own on the world stage.
Sure, it couldn't match something absurd like a luxury yacht-bunker roaming the high seas for hundreds of billions, or Chairman Park Cheol-joo's castle-bunker that once lit up the internet—but that yacht vanished right after the war started, and Park's castle got smashed by the Legion's playful shelling. In the end, Park Gyu's bunker was the true winner.
So what about Foxgame's?
"This is the entrance."
"?"
I had a bad feeling from the start.
Weeeeeeng—
The massive shutter shook the ground as it opened, and for a split second, I thought: Spaceship?
No, more like the base from some giant robot cartoon I watched as a kid?
Either way, something insane was unfolding before my eyes.
Thud—
Behind the shutter was an underground tunnel made of concrete and steel beams.
Wide enough for a semi-truck to drive through.
I had a similar Park Gyu's Garage, but mine was usually covered by a tarp buried under dirt. When I needed to use it, I'd haul off the tarp myself, shove aside the plywood underneath, and only then would the 30-degree incline entrance appear.
The entrance itself had a hydraulic valve for fully automatic operation, but it was leagues below Foxgame's seamless setup.
"..."
The shutter alone was a total defeat for me.
But this corridor...
Why couldn't I see the end?
My garage dropped at a steep 20 degrees, immediately revealing a packed lot of construction vehicles.
"SKELTON?"
Foxgame glanced back at me frozen in place.
"It's nothing. Lead on."
I followed him down the corridor.
It stretched a full five meters.
Anyone who's built a bunker knows how luxurious it is to dedicate five meters just to a passageway.
As my sense of defeat deepened, Foxgame pulled out a remote and pressed a button.
Weeeeeeng—
What looked like a dead-end wall began to slide open.
"D-Double shutter?!"
"Yes. It's designed to withstand a direct nuke hit to some degree."
"..."
Behind the double shutter sat rows of neatly parked luxury imports.
Even a foreign buggy from the same maker as mine.
But unlike my bare-bones version, his was fully loaded, complete with the whip antenna comms gear.
"...You have a lot of cars."
"Ah, driving was a old hobby."
He said it with a faint smile, but still.
Maybe this round was my win?
Pre-war market value? Foxgame's landslide victory.
But practicality? His collection was useless.
What good were Porsches or Lambos in this world?
My construction vehicles could build a whole new reality.
Plus, I had the Humvee.
SKELTON's complete victory this time.
Foxgame opened a comparatively small iron door at the back of the luxury lineup.
"?"
For a brief moment, intense confusion hit me.
Another corridor.
Lined with multiple doors.
The ceiling towered six meters high, the width four meters.
"..."
In that instant, I realized.
This wasn't a bunker.
It was a palace.
After that, things blurred together.
"This is the indoor hydroponics. I grow most of my veggies here, self-sufficient."
"Water purification setup. Pulls from the nearby streambed, cleans it. Handles over 200 liters a day easy."
"Vault. Mostly useless junk now."
"Wardrobe that doubles as an armory."
"My staff's bedrooms. Luxurious, right? Way better than mine. Hastens beds—heard of 'em? Hundred million won each."
"Gym. Golf fan? Got indoor screen golf too."
"Server room. Yeah, pre-war, I had big dreams. Figured the world half-destroyed, I'd launch some ambitious new game and dominate the post-apoc industry."
"Power room. Hydrogen fuel cells. Prototype stage, but no issues. Diesel's shelf life is too short..."
By the time we got there, I snapped out of it and managed to voice my thoughts.
"...Stop."
"Pardon?"
Foxgame stared at me.
"SKELTON? You look pale."
"I get claustrophobic."
"Don't you live in a bunker?"
"Kinda open-concept."
"I see. One last spot—my workshop?"
I wasn't keen, but backing out now felt awkward, so I followed him to the workshop at the end of the long hall.
Beyond the heavy iron door was a surprisingly cozy space: a small bed and a single computer glowing softly in the dark, humming faintly.
Unlike the other rooms, it was cramped.
More like a studio apartment, really.
With the bed there, it seemed like Foxgame's bedroom.
Then I sensed someone behind me.
A young couple, woman by the look.
Foxgame ignored them, proudly showing off his tiny space with uncharacteristic energy.
"Modeled after my old college one-room. Nostalgic vibe. That era when everything was uncertain, but I loved games so much I'd pull all-nighters on cup ramen coding."
At least when reminiscing, his face held no trace of deceit.
"Hang on, I'll brew some tea. Wait here—oh, your crew's around."
The diner held the young couple and their kid from earlier.
They'd seemed ready to draw guns moments ago, but now they smiled and greeted me first.
After some small talk, I asked,
"You live here with him?"
The couple nodded.
"Choi Eosa took us in. Dramatic story. We were scraping by uploading crap games on Failnet, then this guy claims he's Choi Eosa and invites us secretly here."
"Really?"
"Half-doubted, but trusted him. Knew company secrets too well—how we dated, got married on the job."
According to them, they'd arrived a year ago.
Lucky timing.
Last winter was killer—literally.
And the shelter turned battlefield. Survival odds? Slim to none.
They probably wouldn't have made it.
"Got it. So now you're developing games under him?"
They nodded in unison.
"Yeah, past year straight."
"There was that text-based one midway."
"Oh, that. Executive test for network traffic. Source code was straight from 30-year-old archives—no real dev."
They exchanged wry smiles.
"But Monster Park hurt him bad."
"Lots of deaths?"
They stared at me blankly.
Clueless.
"No."
The man hesitated, then spoke.
"There's a Failnet board for ex-game devs. Criticism poured in. Said that's all Choi Eosa had in him."
"Did he see it?"
"Probably. He lurks there—we got scouted from it."
The woman jumped in.
"Guy's got no real talent."
"No?"
"Copying hot foreign games, office politics, stealing juniors' ideas for his resume."
She eyed her husband pityingly.
"Husband got hit too. Old story."
She still harbored resentment toward Foxgame.
"Still boils my blood sometimes. He got crushed bad? That's what triggered hubby's panic attacks."
If the husband felt the same, Foxgame might be dead already.
But the man trusted him.
"What choice did he have? Company's pressure is insane."
Her disses kept coming; he showed quiet anger.
She wasn't backing down, hands on hips, voice rising shrill.
"So he defects to China, pockets big bucks? Whole project, team stolen."
"That's why we're here safe?"
"Who knows his angle."
Seemed headed for a fight, but their kid interrupted, calling for mom. Talk halted.
As she tended him, the man approached with a wry smile.
"...Boss talks a lot, lots of baggage. But."
He gazed at the high ceiling, grinning.
"New game's dropping soon."
"New game?"
"Yeah."
I wasn't hopeful.
Figured another Monster Park text mashup.
As I doubted, he showed me his phone screen.
"Don't tell a soul!"
I stared at the display.
"...What is this?"
No text jumble, no retro relic.
A fully realized world: vibrant pre-war colors, slick effects, beauty that sucked you into adventure just by looking.
I asked him,
"You three made all this...?"
He grinned.
"Yeah."
"No way—just three people?"
"World's ended—no copyright worries. Grab assets freely."
"Assets?"
"Data. Characters, animations, effects, BGM, SFX—even concepts from planning stages. His server has our company's stuff plus others'. We pluck what fits, flesh out the skeleton he and I build."
He glanced at his wife.
"Wife gripes, but killer graphic designer. Tweaked others' assets by hand for our game. Her workload dwarfs ours combined."
She sighed, looking away—as the door opened.
Foxgame, with a tray of decent pot and cups.
His brew was good.
Better than Da-jeong's.
Skill and quality, not heart.
"Nice tea."
I savored, praised lightly, and prepared to leave.
Couple wanted to see me off; Foxgame stopped them.
"Busy folks—no need. My online connection; I'll walk him. Rest up, back to work soon. Almost done, right?"
Thus, he escorted me through the luxurious bunker that left such a mark.
Silent on the inner halls, but at the garage, he closed the door, glanced around nervously, and spoke softly.
"Kinda awkward to say this suddenly."
He looked terrified, peering back.
"Those people just now."
Bad vibe.
I met his eyes, nodded.
"I took this bunker by force."
He whispered, eyes wide with fear, glancing behind.
"Why else would I go dark while alive?"