Chapter 320
Chapter 320
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 320
Chapter Title: 128. Tower (6)
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There may be no such thing as a meaningful death in this world, but records endure.
What you record and how you record it is up to the heart of the one doing the recording, but any record holds more value than leaving nothing behind.
Back in my China days, what made me famous was a string of achievements, but to be honest, it was Professor who won the evaluators' hearts.
I submitted meticulous, systematic reports without fail, every single time.
Even if we died on the battlefield, I believed what we felt, saw, did, and the results had to be passed down to posterity. That's why I put extra effort into documenting and transmitting those records.
Even after retirement, that habit lingered.
Especially for important tasks, I'd screenshot the records to save them.
The Umchang-i incident that once rocked the entire Failnet was no different.
I meticulously screenshotted every bit of it back then and stored them in a separate folder.
The preparations, the provocations toward Woo Min-hee, the fateful one-on-one chat, and her furious meltdown.
All those records are preserved in my folder under "Internet First-Person Perspective."
I never imagined I'd end up using these records.
I figured the secret that I was Umchang-i would go to the grave with me.
But with things turning out like this, I can't afford to be picky about methods.
I asked Su to enter my bunker, access my computer, and send me the contents of that hidden secret folder.
I could have entrusted it to Rebecca, but Su's sharper and tighter-lipped, so I made the special request to her.
"......"
Don't think about unnecessary things.
I shook off the stray thoughts and organized the screenshots Su had sent.
They're all still there, just as I left them.
A page from history where I once clashed with the monster known as Woo Min-hee on Failnet.
Now, it's time to upload these records.
Not under Skeleton, but as roxanneGIRL.
"......"
Next up: mobilizing recommended slaves.
I wanted to rope in the Defender siblings' accounts too, but their folders probably hold horrors far worse than what's on my computer. For Su's education, better to hold back.
Moments later, comments started rolling in.
Anonymous458, huh.
A swift reaction, as expected from a pureblood oldbie I acknowledge.
But the temperature of the response falls short of my expectations.
The ones delivering the reaction I wanted were less oldbies and more the new blood from inflows.
Failnet remnants, as expected.
You guys must be exhausted cosplaying as normal users in clothes that don't fit.
At any rate, the internet legend "Umchang-i" clearly stirred their nostalgia.
More and more posts—mostly from murderers, no doubt—piled up under mine, and the upvotes climbed proportionally to the comments.
And my authentication post hit the popular list.
A minor point, but here Su proved once again that she's superior and wiser than her mom.
She even fabricated an alibi without me asking.
I need to prepare a lot of juicy treats for that one.
Anyway, amid this hot whirlwind, today's star makes their entrance.
*Ding~*
A message arrived.
It's Woo Min-hee.
"Valentine. Let's begin."
But Valentine's expression isn't great.
"Right... now?"
I'd anticipated this, but it's the first time he's shown it openly.
This whole operation is driven purely by my greed.
I didn't properly consider Valentine's feelings, especially.
Subconsciously, I'd been undervaluing him as a non-combatant who objectively doesn't contribute much to the survival theme.
In truth, Valentine feels burdened by this mission.
He hadn't shown it outwardly, but piling one reckless plan on another reckless plan finally made his discomfort and anxiety spill over.
"Haa. If it has to be done, it has to be done. No helping it."
I mean, spending three days alone in that pitch-black warehouse, handling every task solo.
All while carrying the fear of not knowing when Woo Min-hee might show up.
"......Haa. Sorry for grumbling so much, but this seems way more intense than I thought."
I feel bad for him first and foremost.
But this has to happen.
It's not optional.
It absolutely must happen now.
I'd even stake my life on it.
"I'll be with you. I'll guard this place to the end."
Whether my feelings truly got through is questionable, but at least Valentine adjusted to match my mood a bit.
"......If Skeleton says so."
Valentine gave a wry smile and pulled a faded photo from his pocket.
"Hm? What's this?"
It's a photo of John_nenon.
From before the radiation hit—his prime, armed with excessive muscle, posing with Valentine and his now-departed old subordinates, full of memories.
"Ah, this one? From the Failnet draft planning meetup."
"Quite a crowd."
Five—no, six people.
Including a woman standing in the back who doesn't look like a core member.
"Yeah. Back then, John_nenon was still doing okay, and Seoul had some breathing room. Above all, it was an era when hope lingered that the world might return to normal. We thought Failnet would be the bridge connecting the war's devastation to the recovery period."
Everyone has their own perspective.
I heard an unexpected insight from an unforeseen source.
Failnet as a bridge between wartime ruin and postwar recovery.
Something someone jaded by doom like me could never think of.
Only someone who views the world with hope could come up with that.
Valentine gazed at the photo wistfully.
"I hope there's an afterlife in this world."
He stepped toward the area littered with destroyed debris.
"I'd like to share a drink with our old boss there and have him judge what I've done."
It pains me that I have no words of comfort to offer him.
Our bond was forced, formed out of necessity on my part.
I have no killer line to shove in here.
All I can do is match his mood.
"......Someday, if I make it there too, will you let me join?"
"Skeleton too?"
"Yeah. I hope there's a bootleg raw meat joint in the next world."
Valentine looked at me with slight surprise.
His face seemed to ask how I knew the shop's name.
I silently raised a fist.
Valentine raised his in response, then walked alone into the dark zone.
"Valentine entering."
Hong Da-jung's voice came over the communicator.
Now it begins.
Beyond that slightly ajar door lies a magical eye that detects all entries.
The moment Valentine stepped in, he was encoded as an intruder and transmitted to Woo Min-hee's comms gear in Paju.
But I'll keep her pinned down.
"......"
*Tap tap*
This is what Professor—and one internet user Skeleton—can do.
I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.
I held no grand illusions about Eastern enlightenment, but here I had to forget myself.
Forget myself, forget Buddha, forget the world.
What remains is Umchang-i—another, separate ego distinct from me.
I embody that persona.
"......"
*Tap tap*
"......"
Woo Min-hee's totally lost it.
Calling a senior like the sky without even the honorific.
Thinking of the violence she'd unleash chills me to the bone, but that chill is the signal things are going well.
The breathless back-and-forth continued when a familiar voice echoed from the communicator.
"Arrived."
It's Valentine.
He's safely entered the warehouse and boarded the vehicle in question.
"Activating the equipment now. Don't cut the Wi-Fi. I need the manual to operate this too."
The plan advances to phase two.
While Valentine stays put in the warehouse operating the gear from the vehicle, I toss another lure online.
The second lure evokes nostalgia for a lost era.
I have simple photos: the old apartment building where my role model John_nenon rests, the stairs descending to the basement, the lead-sealed iron door, and the server room once filled with light.
I regret forever not photographing John_nenon, but I respect his wish not to be captured now, so no big lingering attachment.
The key is a fragment of Failnet—an era gone forever.
...
...
Users I don't know well dive into memories.
...
...
Users I know well reminisce about departed ones.
Of course, this gathering includes the internet's chronic illness: internet psychos.
...
...
It's been a while since I felt it.
The internet is a place where everyone can exist.
Its ills aren't the topic right now.
Let's see it as it is.
The internet is a world where people live.
A flawless world is a figment of fantasy.
Maybe it's phrasing for a world after humanity's extinction by monsters.
The important thing is connection.
"Yes. Comms are online now. Hurry and message Deadman_working."
Connecting person to person.
Not John_nenon's original intent, perhaps, but the value he traded his life for in the end.
As one carrying on John_nenon's legacy, I follow the footprints of that giant.
"......"
*Tap tap*
Now, we wait.
For the response from the one who conveys the voices of the dead.
"......"
Afterward, Woo Min-hee's lack of reaction nags at me a bit.
She's not heading straight here, is she?
She didn't decide from the start that Umchang-i is Park Gyu and just stoke the fire, right?
"......"
What's done is done.
Just watch what happens next.
Woo Min-hee.
No matter how hysterical she is, she wouldn't kill me... right?
Not to brag, but I'm pretty good at groveling and begging.
As razor-thin time ticked by, a message arrived.
This guy never sleeps or what?
Doesn't matter.
Faster the better.
Honestly, I don't want to meet Woo Min-hee here.
"Skeleton! It's coming! Incoming! Massive radio waves being received!"
The flow is good.
Really good.
But.
Minor issue?
I checked the message history.
Yeah.
I'd said that.