Chapter 241
Chapter 241
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 241
Chapter Title: 101. Takeoff
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Message from Defender: Nightmare, huh... Then there's nothing we can do. I wanted to see your face once, but with my little sibling's condition and our situation here, it's just not possible.
Message from Defender: Let me know when you get to Jeju. We have to confirm you're still alive.
Message from Defender: I'm affectionate, you know. SKELTON. I had no idea you were suffering this much mentally. Has your resolve weakened without us around? If we were by your side, it wouldn't have come to this... Kidding aside, take good care of yourself there. Message us now and then! More often is even better!
It hurts my heart, but it's something I have to do.
The endlessly repeating nightmares were justification enough.
It's a famous legend among the hunters who went to China.
The urban legend—inspired by a Borges short story collection—can be summed up like this:
1. If the same nightmare repeats over and over, it will definitely come true in reality.
2. That nightmare can't be a precognitive dream.
3. The situation in those countless repeated nightmares becomes so familiar that the dreamer resigns themselves, convinced that what's happening is just another dream.
Back then, SKELTON was the type who didn't believe in urban legends or silly rumors and didn't even want to hear about them.
The one who told me about that urban legend was my teammate—the friend who'd show up at the mess hall for breakfast, sit at the table with a scowl, and wait for me.
"...Team leader. I had that dream again."
Her nightmare was always about dying from her own bullet.
The location, time, and monster type would change every time, but the part where her bullet ricocheted off a reflective barrier and lodged in her forehead was chillingly identical.
At the time, I brushed it off: nightmares are just nightmares.
But that nightmare became reality.
She'd come in as a sub for the injured Kim Daram, fired a round from Kim Daram's position—and it went wide. She met the exact same end as in her dream.
It happened a week before my unfit-for-duty request got approved and I shipped back to Korea.
I'm having nightmares just like hers.
The setting is my cozy bunker.
I'm lying flat on the bed, sleeping soundly.
The door opens.
I don't know why.
For some inexplicable reason, the door swings open and armed thugs barge in.
I grab the gun I keep by the bedside and put up a fight, but endless waves of shadowy figures fill the entire bunker until I drown in them.
Sometimes I get shot dead. Sometimes a rifle butt knocks me out cold and I die from the beatings.
There was a torture variant too, but the dream was so hazy I can't recall the details.
Countless variations, but the nightmare's core frame is always the same.
In the dead of night while I'm asleep, thugs raid my bunker and kill me.
This all started after Kim Pil-seong broke into my bunker.
I killed him, sure—but the anxiety he planted kept gnawing at me relentlessly. And once contact with Kim Daram resumed, it ramped up even more, jolting me awake from sound sleep with gun in hand time and again.
According to the medical DVDs in my collection, the most effective cure for a mental affliction is eliminating its root cause.
But this isn't a world where that's easy.
Someone might say, "Just leave the bunker." But could I even find somewhere safe right away?
The only answer is a place that guarantees safety and security: Jeju Island.
"Why Jeju specifically? This place could be turned into an ironclad fortress."
When Cheon Young-jae asked me that once, I gave him a wry smile.
"Mental illness."
Cheon Young-jae nodded.
"Even Park sunbae gets hit with that."
"It's closing in on four years of this life."
Three years is plenty to break a person.
I poured effort into things like Viva! Apocalypse! to dodge this kind of breakdown, but in the end, I couldn't beat the endless dice rolls of mental trials.
A message came from Unicorn. I replied.
Weapons and ammo?
(A question loaded with layers of meaning.)
Ditching the ammo and guns frees up a good 5kg.
Jeju's security just got confirmed too.
The plane ferrying me to Jeju lands on the U.S. base runway at dawn tomorrow.
One request: Mark the runway clearly with flares or other glow-in-the-dark stuff.
A hassle, but I enlisted Cheon Young-jae and Ha Tae-hoon's help.
But Unicorn keeps undermining my resolve with his comments.
Unicorn, dude.
Why's he keep saying stuff like that?
No matter how shitty Jeju's setup, it has to beat dying any second here.
Speaking of, guy's got no life?
Posting nonstop, instant replies—feels like he's glued to the boards 24/7.
No way he's who I suspected.
Can't picture Kang Han-min or Na Hye-in hunkered in a room round-the-clock, trolling online.
Still, he's got me second-guessing a little.
Asked Unicorn for the what-if.
He replied in three seconds flat.
"Busan..."
Even if Jeju doesn't pan out, they're saying they'll drop me in Busan—not my turf.
Busan to my area? Closer than Seoul-Busan, but still hundreds of kilometers.
Through heavily infested, unknown territory.
On foot, most likely.
Would Jeju folks cough up a motorcycle? Hand a top-tier ride like Baek Seung-hyeon's to some quitter?
Still, "don't cling to those who wanna leave" hits hard.
Right there, I rounded up Ha Tae-hoon and Cheon Young-jae.
"Sorry. Really, truly sorry."
Under their baffled stares, I pulled a childish pout totally unlike me.
"Even after I head to Jeju, keep my bunker vacant for a bit. Ammo and supplies are fair game, but leave the furniture layout and decor untouched."
Ha Tae-hoon cocked his head.
"Sounds like a month-long Jeju getaway."
"Could be."
"Sunbae picky?"
"Kinda."
"How'd China work out?"
"Your era and mine? Night and day. Right, Ha sunbae?"
"Wasn't bad."
After a rowdy back-and-forth, I eyed my local crew.
Cheon Young-jae and Ha Tae-hoon traded looks.
Cheon Young-jae spoke up.
"Deal. I wasn't using that bunker anyway. My spot now? Safer for a guy like me, better for scraps too."
Ha Tae-hoon toyed with a kamikaze blade drone and chimed in.
"I'm building fresh digs."
"Fresh digs?"
"Garage vehicles and gear okay?"
"Yeah. Long as you don't get pinched midway."
"Gonna build my own bunker."
"Sunbae handy with construction?"
"Dad was in the game. Wasn't loaded growing up—trailed him on odd jobs, picked up tricks watching. Was during the folks' divorce-fight phase too."
Ha Tae-hoon smirked into the distance.
"Dad started raking it in, and boom—harmonious family like it never happened."
"Recipe for domestic bliss."
"So, I'm decent?"
"Knock yourself out. Just don't trash it."
Got the green light to leave the bunker empty short-term—but on second thought, both Ha Tae-hoon and Cheon Young-jae clocked it.
My bunker's far from safe.
Whatever the Professor is, Korea's top-dog hunter slot's got contenders lined up.
The plane arrived at dawn, just before July kicked off.
Overnight showers left the air crisp and misty-cool.
Ha Tae-hoon, Cheon Young-jae, and I lit barrel fires to mark the runway edges.
A low thrum echoed from beyond the ridge.
Matched the prop wash from that big drone Darling flew once.
"Light prop plane. Small one."
Ha Tae-hoon muttered—guy knows his drones and aircraft.
Then, through the gloaming, the plane's silhouette emerged.
Hugging the distant peaks, it skimmed low till our flames caught its eye.
Plane stuck the landing smooth, even in pitch black.
Tinier than I'd pictured.
Explained the 10kg bag cap in a heartbeat.
"You SKELTON?"
Pilot approached, pistol at the ready.
Safety off.
Stepped up, flashed the disc.
"That's me."
"Luggage?"
"Over there."
He eyeballed the bags.
"Huh? This."
Pointed at the sat device.
"Obelisk's banned."
"Really?"
"Security policy. Too many try working around it."
"Folks in Jeju use 'em. I just pinged one to arrange this."
Pilot lit a smoke, wry grin.
"...Must be big shot."
That line yanked Kang Han-min and Na Hye-in's faces—long forgotten—back into view.
Heart raced.
unicorn18. Him? Really Kang Han-min? Or Na Hye-in?
Nothing solid. But now I can find out.
For real. My old squadmates. Kim Daram's old haven. The ones who'd wrecked the world I could barely name.
"..."
Sure, nightmares chased me from my turf. But I'd mustered the guts to face the world again.
"Alright then."
Raised a hand to my sunbae and hoobae watching me go.
War buddies linked by blood and bodies don't need long goodbyes.
"Bet you won't last a month, sunbae."
"We'll see. Anyway, stay alive. Breaking ground today."
Quick nods, and they turned heel without a backward glance. Their exit thawed the pilot's edge big-time.
Told him:
"Let's roll."
"Hold up."
"?"
"Gotta eat, piss, top off fuel, catch a breather."
Pilot cracked wise.
Once his business wrapped, we reboarded and lifted off the strip.
My turf shrank to a speck in seconds—like it never was.
Beyond that ant-farm world sprawled cities, gray zones.
Three years, seven months since the war dropped.
Park Gyu here, gearing for a new chapter.
And a reckoning.
With Kang Han-min.
And Na Hye-in.
My old classmates.