Chapter 308
Chapter 308
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 308
Chapter Title: 124. Play (2)
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"..."
*Tap tap tap*
Strike first.
By raising doubts from our side, we nip any future problems in the bud.
This doubt-raising has another effect.
The growing number of comments.
People tend to click on posts with lots of comments over ones with none. It's human nature that transcends ethnicity, culture, or religion.
I do it too—clicking on posts with a ton of replies first.
Comment farming is a common tactic for attention-starved crazies.
But sheer volume alone doesn't make a story.
As the saying goes, nothing's more entertaining than watching a fight.
That's where my second online persona steps in.
"..."
*Tap tap tap*
The current state of my bunker is pure chaos.
Apart from the pre-embedded satellite device in the foundation, three additional ones are lined up, tangled in a mess of power cords. My desk is maxed out with the desktop, laptop, and every available gadget in play, forcing me to close the central toilet lid and perch one laptop on top.
It's like the ultimate multi-clone jutsu.
This is unavoidable with the Viva! Apocalypse! satellite system.
Viva! Apocalypse! requires one PC per satellite device.
Thanks to Valentine, I had the gear for multi-clone ops, but it's no walk in the park.
Switching personas means shuffling around, pounding different keyboards—it's way more chaotic and skill-intensive than it sounds.
Meanwhile, this sudden keyboard battle is hurtling toward its climax.
I don't know American culture or psychology that well, but I figure humans share similar traits.
"..."
*Tap tap tap*
Americans probably doxx too.
Americans probably drop locations like that.
It's so much bigger than Korea that actual meetups are rare, though.
Just as I was deep in my extreme multi-persona act, someone suddenly flung open the bunker door.
I'd left it unlocked to communicate with Valentine, and now someone had thrown it wide.
"These stairs always feel so crooked. One slip and you'd break your neck."
Hong Da-jeong's voice.
Coincidentally, I was squatting with a laptop on the central toilet lid, role-playing my third persona, roxanneGIRL.
"SKELTON...?"
"..."
"What are you doing... there...?"
Our eyes met in the worst possible spot.
"What are you doing on the toilet...?"
"..."
What should I say?
My goal is righteous.
I'm on a holy mission to save my neighbor, Rebecca and her mom, from certain death.
Nothing to be ashamed of.
Besides, I always keep my cool.
"What? Suddenly."
As I stood up casually, brushing it off and crafting an excuse—
Hong Da-jeong's gaze was fixed somewhere odd.
"What? Obelisks! Why do you have three Obelisks?! Huh?!"
Right.
She's eyeing the spare satellite devices with greedy hunger.
"!"
My battle-hardened instincts whispered:
This might be more dangerous than getting caught mid-multi-clone on the toilet.
"You like coffee milk?"
"SKELTON! You should've told me you had extras. Do you know how annoying it is sharing a satellite device with my brother?"
"This is for a mission."
"Mission my ass. Just give me one. I left the Sea Monkey Papa one behind when I moved."
"It's for something important."
"I'll upvote you every day. I'll even back you up in flame wars."
That's tempting.
Suddenly, an alarm blared from the laptop on the toilet.
"SKELTON. You even have comment notifications on?"
Hong Da-jeong tilted her head, mumbling.
"Why would you turn those on? It's not even message alerts..."
I could turn them off.
Only comment addicts like me keep them on.
As the silence stretched, highlighting our differing mindsets, Hong Da-jeong crossed her arms, squinting at me.
"Go check it."
I silently shifted my eyes to the screen.
For a moment, I double-checked.
Rebecca.
Rebecca had taken the bait.
I quickly excused myself to Hong Da-jeong and hammered the keyboard linked to my fourth persona, running on Valentine's desktop.
*
"What? You pulled all this just to save that sniper?"
A bit later, I shared some of my hidden snacks and explained the situation to Hong Da-jeong and Defender.
Defender, who'd slipped into my bunker uninvited, looked mildly surprised at the room's state but didn't comment.
His eyes, like hers, went straight to the satellite devices instead of the laptop on the toilet.
Feeling a twinge of anxiety about losing one, I calmly continued.
"She's stubborn, charges ahead on blind faith in herself. Doesn't take advice. So changing her mind this way is the only option."
I thought I was explaining patiently, but her gaze kept distracting me.
From start to finish, she was locked on my spare satellite devices.
She wasn't licking her chops, but she was already plotting to snag one of my precious clones.
And sure enough.
"Gimme one."
"What?"
"Huh? Why? SKELTON? You're doing multi-clone anyway, right?"
"Well. You see."
"Don't be stingy. Just one. It's better with more people than solo, yeah?"
"..."
I glanced at Defender.
Sociopath or not, I thought we clicked.
And sure enough.
"Da-jeong-ah."
Defender said to Hong Da-jeong.
"Looks like SKELTON really needs it for work. Look—he was even typing on the toilet."
Defender's on my side, as expected.
After saving him multiple times, it's the least he could do.
But Hong Da-jeong wasn't backing down.
"SKELTON! People come first. Multi-clone is way more efficient with a team, right?"
"..."
"Trust me. You know I've got over ten years flaming on the net?"
"Ten years?"
"More like longer. Started in elementary school..."
Impressive credentials.
I'd seen her greedy stare at my devices coming.
If I'm handing one over anyway, better not act like a big shot.
"I was planning to give you one when the time was right."
"Liar."
"Pick whichever you like."
And so our joint front began.
Hong Da-jeong was surplus manpower in our turf, sure—but online, she had god-tier stats.
At first, her half-hearted efforts made me worry she'd grab the gear and ghost, but then my anticipated heavy hitter showed up.
A true native nitpicker.
I don't know much, but this guy's sharp.
No way he's ex-military, right?
To make matters worse, keyboard battles with Americans were new territory, so I paused to recalibrate—then comet-like reinforcements arrived.
"Hm?"
What? Notes?
"lol?"
Watching the fierce keyboard barrage, I swallowed hard without realizing.
I looked at Da-jeong.
Bathed in the monitor's glow, she smirked triumphantly, her fingers flying like possessed over the keys.
In that moment, it hit me.
This girl's the real deal.
After that, St.Ailens never commented again.
With zero background knowledge or logic, our Da-jeong had routed a formidable foe.
Squatting by the toilet witnessing that epic clash, I walked over to her as it ended.
"How'd you do that?"
"How? Easy."
Da-jeong chuckled.
"One look and I pegged him as 50+, educated type. Those guys don't brawl online. They ignore attacks or drop an f-bomb at most."
"Really?"
"I've got data on it."
"I, I see."
"Keyboard battles only work when both sides are evenly matched—honorable duels and all that?"
Come to think of it, back when our board had more educated folks, we never dreamed of flame wars.
Even Foxgame just cursed me out and blocked instead of long rants.
Age makes everything a hassle, I guess.
You start seeing what's meaningless versus not, after all those years.
But something else piqued my curiosity.
"What's the memo?"
"Memo? When you check user info, there's a window that pops up, right?"
"Yeah."
"Click the margin. You can type notes."
I opened the CRAZY_HORSE account she was using, clicked the margin as instructed, and typed.
[Hong Da-jeong]
"Now close and reopen."
I did.
"Whoa?"
Incredible—it saved my exact input in the user info.
"What is this? New feature?"
"Nah, always been there."
"For real? First I've heard."
"This board's full of exploits everywhere. Stumbled on it by accident. Probably not intended—similar to old board features, so I call it memo."
"Got it."
Da-jeong indeed.
Experience is king.
Ten-year troll veteran? No exaggeration.
Side note: "lol" means "lots of laughs," like our "lolololol" for big laughs.
Anyway, with this monstrous net warrior Lu Bu in hand, nothing could stop me now.
The grand play for Rebecca was rolling smoothly.
Soon after, a message came from Rebecca.
She's probably asking me—the guy next to the US base—to verify the photo.
Her lightning-fast reply let me glimpse her hidden feelings, ones text couldn't convey.
Maybe she knew her hope was futile?
Knew there was 0.1% chance at best, but clung to it because even that beat zero, fooling herself into that dying dream?
More people make foolish choices than you'd think when zero odds aren't quite zero.
At the heart of those foolish choices are always things precious.
So I can't just call her foolish.
"..."
*Tap tap tap*
She just picked the option she could live with.
I know the road ahead won't be easy.
Bringing people means fooling that many more.
Another burden to handle, of course.
"Your senior's house is almost done too?"
Another person's labor here nears completion.
Ha Tae-hoon's new build, under construction for a while.
He disliked his contractor dad but inherited the talent—crafting a decent house from scraps.
"This?"
Ha Tae-hoon wiped sweat with his sleeve, eyeing his new home with pride.
"Koreans gotta live in reinforced concrete, right?"
Usually detached and cynical, keeping distance, but gazing at his house, even he showed real emotion.
"Check it out, Park Gyu. Ceiling height. I figured humans need at least 5m for comfort."
"Heating?"
"This winter's brutal too, yeah?"
"That? We'll manage. Got power—easy. With electricity, humans can live anywhere."
Rebecca's reply came three days later.
"..."
US armored vehicle, huh.
The real crisis of this grand play might start once Rebecca reaches our turf.