Chapter 259
Chapter 259
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 259
Chapter Title: 105. Residence (4)
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Jeju Airport reminded him of a chaotic parking lot.
All sorts of aircraft—fighters, transports, civilian planes—were jumbled together, creating a hectic atmosphere.
Only a handful were actually operational.
Most were spares or backups, with just a tiny fraction flying.
According to the pilot, they'd had stable synthetic fuel supplies before losing the southern regions, so far more planes had been airborne back then. Now, they only flew for absolute necessities like defoliants or air force ops.
"Does the air force even have anything to do?"
Prep time for the plane taking me to my territory was dragging, so I had a leisurely chat with the pilot.
He was younger and lower-ranked than the previous one.
Judging by his gaunt frame and bloodshot eyes, his living standards weren't great, but he was friendly and made an effort to be nice to me—it showed.
He sucked on his cigarette butt and answered my question.
"Yeah. Sometimes unidentified fighters violate our airspace."
"Which country? Not China, I bet."
"Some came from the Chinese side. They're said to be Taiwanese planes, but since they don't respond to our radio, they might've been captured by China."
"Did China occupy Taiwan?"
The winner of the China-Taiwan war was unknown.
Both sides had annihilated each other mid-conflict.
Though wartime news mentioned the Chinese military successfully landing a massive Marine force on Taiwan.
"Not entirely. But their Marines took some airbases in the rear of Taiwan Island."
The pilot eyed his cigarette filter regretfully before tossing it to the floor and glancing toward the window.
"Japanese ones fly over pretty often too."
"Military planes?"
"Yep. Recon aircraft. They were curious about our situation. Last year, we had scrambles all the time."
"Why's that?"
"They must need something. We tried hailing them, but they just gave us the runaround. Even so, they've dropped off sharply this year—their situation's gone downhill."
A massive civilian airliner lifted off the runway into the sky.
The plane that once carried travelers' dreams abroad now sprayed defoliants over Jeju to kill the plants.
The sky was blue, but Jeju's signature murky gray haze hung over the airport too.
Maybe the gloom felt thicker because we were the only ones in the corridor.
As I killed time with the quiet pilot, the sound of heels echoed from the hallway.
It was a woman in a crisp white uniform.
The National Crisis Committee badge pinned to her chest gleamed as she headed straight for me.
"You're Park Gyu, right?"
"Yes, that's me."
Like most Jeju locals, she was barely into her early twenties, but her movements and speech betrayed years of professional experience—no gaps.
She carefully compared my face to her tablet, requested a fingerprint scan, and asked for my name and birthdate.
Once identity verification cleared, she finally introduced herself.
"I'm Choi Hyun-joo from the National Crisis Committee's Immigration Control Office."
She methodically checked and explained the items I was taking to the mainland, what to return, and other necessities.
Nothing was missing, no lingering attachments.
Finally, she confirmed my request.
"You're planning to stay on the mainland for a year, correct?"
"Yes."
I blinked and answered clearly.
"You'll keep using your current house?"
"Yes. It allows for up to a year of unoccupied leasing."
My true goal was to leave Jeju forever, but on paper, it was a one-year mainland recon mission.
The island held no regrets—I could've just shaken the dust off and left—but there was a critical reason I couldn't.
Choi Hyun-joo excused herself to the pilot.
He'd been about to check on plane maintenance anyway and stepped away.
The vast airport lobby held just me and Choi Hyun-joo.
She glanced at her records, then at me with sparkling eyes.
"Um, is it true?"
"?"
"That you hunted monsters solo. Even against the worst small-type, an Executioner variant, using only cold weapons."
Her eyes weren't those of an Awakener.
Just one of the lucky civilians granted permission to live on Jeju.
"......Had no choice if I wanted to survive."
She glanced around, then continued in an excited tone.
"I heard the story. The Professor. Strongest hunter before Awakeners appeared. Early ones were super wary of you."
Her enthusiasm wasn't unfamiliar.
Back in the day, I'd met far more fanatical types.
My response never changed.
"The nail that sticks out gets hammered down."
Answer questions, but stay detached.
No need to invent facts or hide them.
But it seemed my past record wasn't the only thing earning her respect.
"You fought monsters just days ago, and now you're volunteering for mainland recon. That's not something an ordinary person could do."
She held as much admiration for my choice as for my feats.
"......People are avoiding combat more and more. Fakers keep multiplying. Over-level-5 Awakeners sharing weird tricks to fake level-4 ratings."
Choi Hyun-joo shook her head in disgust.
"That's why rift closures keep getting delayed."
She looked at me.
"In times like these, someone like you is more than enough to inspire everyone."
"......"
Nothing to say.
I only speak when necessary, and besides, she had no clue about my real reason for leaving Jeju.
The hidden truth was this.
It was a massive gacha success.
I ran a 10-pull with a "free recruitment ticket," and the very first one nabbed every hyped character.
SKELTON, who'd started posting on the Red Archive board just because it was freer and busier than others, had zero interest in actually playing the game or knowing its meta—so I had no clue how broken my pulls were.
But I did know the board's rules.
In short: don't post obvious childish flexes. Like someone titling an Insta post "One Cup of Coffee" with a focused shot of a takeout Americano... and sneakily including their Porsche steering wheel in frame. Red Archive's classic boaste was gacha proof. Mine was a true mega-jackpot. First pull, three at once—limited super-meta "must-haves" that board friends called human rights characters. And that's why... I made an uncharacteristic blunder.
I didn't realize my mistake when I posted.
Comments soon spelled it out.
Banned for 30 days.
Short if short, but plenty long if long.
What was I supposed to do on this isolated island without connections or the net?
To send a message to VivaBot, I planned to stay off Viva! Apocalypse! for a while.
Feeling glum, I read a few comics by Pilkrum88, then logged back in to scout survival options.
"Hm?"
Something at the bottom of the board.
Admin report threads.
Scanning them, pleas to lift bans everywhere.
Plenty like me, banned for "gacha flexing."
Clicked one.
Honeybee, huh.
Maybe search the board...
Ban lifted.
Despite the grave sin of gacha flexing, a one-liner apology got them off.
Perfect.
Time for mine.
"......"
Tap tap tap.
Wrote an apology on the spot.
Longer than others.
Sounded savvy to anyone.
Admins would smile and lift it.
But...
"Hm?"
Ban not lifted.
A whole day passed, still banned.
Checked reports again.
A comment.
Let's see.
"?"
Why not?
At least give a reason.
What did I even do?
Replied to my apology.
Ten minutes later, a reply to my protest.
Reading that, I suddenly got why this Sparrow admin was so pissed at me.
QuantumBoom.
That guy was the issue.
He'd seemed sketchy from first sight.
And sure enough, the admin spilled the beans on QuantumBoom.
A miracle.
Getting through.
QuantumBoom was the root of all evil.
Once posting rights returned, I honored the deal with the admin.
"......"
Sorry, QuantumBoom, but no choice.
Sometimes you gotta shove a friend under the plane to survive.
Tragic, but he reacted pitifully.
"Sorry."
I apologized aloud without thinking and kept slamming him.
Could've gone harsher, but stuck to mild, rounded language—no swears, to protect my "Keltoni" image.
Silence.
That was my answer.
Bitter, but another page in Skeleton's Red Archive legend.
Time would turn it into a running joke.
Then...
Someone chimed in.
Admin.
Welcomed warmly.
Chat closed, then a warning popped up.
"?"
Suddenly couldn't access the board.
Program glitch?
Reinstalled the file from Na Hye-in, tried again—no dice.
The Red Archive board had reverted to its original state: a bizarre world of nothing but emoticons, no human language.
"......"
Did they trick me?
Did the admin play me, sow discord between me and QuantumBoom, then use his National Crisis Committee pull to boot me?
No other explanation fit.
"......"
Took a solid L.
My ignorance was the cause, but unavoidable.
"Didn't know" isn't an excuse where ignorance kills.
Regardless, this fueled real rage.
Feeling uncontainable fury overlay my hatred for the first time in ages, I recalled my forgotten role model.
"!"
Right.
John_nenon.
Did my idol feel this way?
When our board roasted him, did he go silent in meditation with this rage?
Then fine.
Like my role model, this Skeleton would walk the same path.
That was why I volunteered for the mainland recon mission, leaving Jeju.
"Flight 1083 will depart shortly. Passengers, please proceed immediately to Platform 13 and board Flight 1083."
Time.
Bags already loaded.
Just board.
"Take care on the mainland—stay safe and healthy."
I walked the corridor under Choi Hyun-joo's polite send-off.
Giant TVs lined the walls, on everywhere.
Usually just Jeju gov propaganda, but not now.
Breaking news.
Then, words I couldn't ignore flowed from the speakers.
"Savior Kang Han-min has completed his long mission and is emerging from the rift."
I stopped.
"......"
Kang Han-min?
That guy finally out of the rift?
Hard to get mainland news from outside Jeju.
Stood silently before the TV.
Screen showed crowds only.
No sign of Kang Han-min.
Meanwhile, time ticked mercilessly.
"Flight 1083 passengers, please proceed immediately to Platform 13 and board."
Of all times, Kang Han-min now.
Wanted to confirm his appearance, but no time left.
Glanced back at the TV while leaving the corridor.
Then, amid the throng, a man emerged.
Expressionless, gaunt, a face evoking no emotion—familiar yet utterly alien.
One thing certain.
Kang Han-min.
To my eyes, at least, he no longer looked human.