Chapter 312
Chapter 312
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 126
Chapter Title: Wraiths (1)
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In the brief time it took for our new companions to join us, I could already sense the changing of the seasons.
The sweltering heat had broken, and the sky looked unusually blue and vast.
The wind sweeping across the land now carried a chill, while the grains and grasses ripened to brown or withered away.
Winter was coming soon.
The promised winter of death.
With no way yet to harness the Necropolis, I first warned the forum users I was close to about the coming cold snap.
Judging by the King's reaction, anyone using our forum must've at least peeked at World! Apocalypse! once or twice. Considering the main topic there is winter prep, my warning might've been pointless.
But humans are creatures of habit and inertia.
They tend to ignore anything unfamiliar, and folks barely scraping by day-to-day don't have the luxury to log in and get real info.
In times like these, messages are a handy alert tool.
I checked in with my internet buddy IamJesus after a while.
Worrying about a guy who's at least Over Level 10 Awakened is about as pointless as a civilian fretting over celebrities before the war—but Awakenings are still human.
They freeze if it gets too cold.
Looks like he's doing fine.
Plenty of fun folks around him, so no boredom there.
Still, I've got one friend who's been worrying me lately.
M9.
The guy who was strutting around with a fresh armband suddenly vanished.
Three whole days gone.
By our forum's standards, that's enough time to assume a user's gone on a one-way trip.
Of course, M9's a tough bastard.
He's vanished for a full month before and come back.
Used to live off rations from the Legion faction or soldiers, but who knows what he's eating now.
One thing's for sure: last time I met him in person on a Legion request, he was in great health.
No nutritional deficiencies, no vitamin shortages messing with his complexion or eyes, and no obvious signs of the mental strain from living in a tilting house.
At least not back then.
What the hell. This guy.
He's alive.
But what was that just now?
The message sparkled more than usual, and there was some new text I hadn't seen before.
"Hm?"
Special...?
Special message...?
From a step back, it's nothing.
Really nothing.
Just the word "special" tacked onto a regular message.
So why does it feel like they've stolen the barley fields from my ancestors?
Defeat already creeping into my fingertips, I barely managed to tap the keyboard twice.
"..."
Oh no.
I failed to separate my Red Archive forum persona from my Viva! Apocalypse! one.
For a Skeleton who can juggle four personalities, screwing up even a basic gimmick means that "special" hit me hard.
Need to lodge a formal complaint with VivaBot about this.
But that'll have to wait.
Bigger problem just dropped.
M9 sent me a photo.
It showed the new residents he'd hyped as the first in three years.
But those hopeful newbies?
I know them.
"..."
Ji Chang-su and Younghee.
The chaebol wraiths who'd sniffed around me a few times had suddenly shown up in this crumbling apartment.
*
As pointless as worrying about celebrities.
Worrying about M9.
This cockroach-level survivor came back from a three-day blank with insane topicality, breathing life into our dying forum.
Our single-language board buddies, forced to skim world news for lack of content, naturally exploded with reactions.
...
...
The chaebol wraiths, who seemed utterly unrelated to us, had invaded our turf.
As a pureblood doomsayer, tough to swallow.
Stings a bit, sure, but the real issue is the newbies' intentions.
Younghee, who'd visited my turf not long ago, tried to strong-arm me into going with her to find some secret government facility and supplies in Seoul.
Lucky I had my group, or it'd have turned bloody if I was solo.
Why pick M9's place of all spots?
As I pondered logically, another uproar hit the forum.
Melon Mask.
Our world's creator commented on M9's post.
"..."
First time I knew it.
That Park Gyu here could get so excited his vision blurs.
"This ain't right."
Exactly.
This is not okay.
No way.
I've swapped private messages with Melon Mask, but he's never commented on my posts. Not once.
Yet this scrub M9 pulls off what even me and the Twelve Squares couldn't...?
"..."
Tap tap
Protest via question mark.
But no one noticed mine.
Had to deploy another personality.
Wo Min-hee, why's she suddenly glomming on?
Lives in an eroded zone—maybe the influence?
Anyway, despite my stern warning, M9 and Melon Mask kept up their infuriating buddy-buddy act, boiling my blood.
M9 followed up with a new post.
It evoked the classic "Tarzan" structure—endless variations in novels, movies, anime.
Amid monsters, zombies, and mutations swarming ruined Seoul, a survey team including a beautiful woman gets attacked and cornered. Enter M9, The Hope's sole resident in Seoul's most dangerous spot, who busts out his usual flair to rescue the woman and her crew, bringing them to his lair.
M9 backed his tale with photos snapped in the heat of the moment.
They featured my old hunt, the Meatball-Caterpillar type, plus Necromancer and Spider-like small fries, hordes of zombies, and even new monster types I'd never seen.
His story packed urgency from the pics, familiar fun from the trope, hype for what's next, curiosity about new beasts—genuinely thrilling stuff.
But picky reader me spotted plenty to nitpick.
Biggest gripe: his first-person pronoun.
Not "I," "me," or even "this one"—it's "the author."
[Photo 9 - Calculated monster horde speed via Heidelberg equation in 1.3 seconds with superconducting brain. Author evacuating the stranded group via optimal angle and path to safe zone.]
[Photo 13 - Author replenishing stamina via levitation during a break.]
[Photo 22 - Author sipping coffee mix on The Hope's tilting rooftop, gazing at the sunset after the perilous adventure.]
Excerpts from M9's post.
"..."
Really rubs me wrong.
What rubs even more wrong? His tie with Melon Mask.
Tilting my head at the monitor, a warning popped up.
Don't do it?
Lots to say, but I'll hold my tongue.
Anyway, I've got plenty more ways to poke holes.
"..."
Tap tap
I've got two more sub-accounts.
M9's tale is gripping, but as my other self Dr. Emiless said, no real crises for him.
Right as I geared up to deploy my expertise...
"Hm?"
Carefully crafted comment won't post.
This familiar feeling... no way...
Banned?
My bad premonition confirmed quick.
"..."
24-hour ban.
Lucky break.
Gives me time to cool my head.
In the heat, I overlooked something key.
M9 and Melon Mask's public chumminess is big, but the core issue's those chaebol wraiths I flagged first.
M9's zone was marked high-risk even when Kim Byung-chul briefly retook the Assembly.
No massive erosion like Fort Sagnol, but monster liberation zones from small fries everywhere, crawling with man-sized caterpillar-types that hunt humans.
Ji Chang-su and Younghee.
No way they showed up for no reason.
Got unexpected intel on them.
"Knew I'd seen that girl somewhere. It's her."
Defender knew Younghee.
"Daughter of Changsu Food's boss. The girl Heo Jong-chul was nuts for under Team Leader Kim Daram. Was iffy from afar last time, but close-up photo confirms it."
"Changsu Food? What'd they do?"
"Supplied mutation meat. Rumor was, ten go in, seven or eight come out running, two insane."
Probably true.
I know from experience.
Thanks to Defender, I learned about Ji Chang-su and Younghee—folks I'd crossed paths with multiple times but ignored.
"People doing better post-war than pre-war."
The public's take on Ji Chang-su and Younghee.