Chapter 332
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 332
Chapter Title: Hiding a House in the Apocalypse
"SKELTON...?"
He was so shocked that iamjesus even took off his mask to ask.
"See?"
I pointed at the screen, keeping my smile.
"King's just a person. A human being."
"?"
I kept typing.
I heard iamjesus stumbling back.
At the same time, the zombies around us stirred a bit.
I knew it was crude, sure.
But when it comes to getting your point across honestly, does it matter if it's crude or not?
"See?"
"What?"
"King's just a person. An ordinary guy. The second he hears something he doesn't like, out comes his true colors."
iamjesus's eyes, now maskless, flashed with a light sharper than the usual glint.
With that, I messaged my most love-hate partner, Viva Bot.
I sent verification right away.
And just like that, a dedicated line connected iamjesus and King.
The start was fiery.
Two masked men sat before their monitors for a summit.
"Hey, you little shit. What the hell did you do? Using a feature like this."
King, still masked, bellowed—then suddenly stopped.
His expression was hidden, but it was probably a smile.
He'd spotted me.
"Ah, I get it."
I lightly patted iamjesus's shoulder. He was frozen like a frog before a snake, staring at King.
"Go on."
Is there a proverb that fits almost everything like "well begun is half done"?
"Ah... ah... ah."
iamjesus, wearing his father's face, took his first shaky steps after a long time.
"...Your mom."
Birds look beautiful when they first leave the nest.
Humans can't be like birds, so we stumble and fall ugly as we go through life.
"Stop sending those weird messages. Your girls. All ugly as hell!"
"What? You retard?! Don't you know who I am? How many guys I got under me?"
"I-I got thousands of zombies too!"
Whatever the optics, the king of the dead and the king of the living were connected.
The watergate was open.
What flowed through it was up to them.
"..."
In the corner of the screen, I read hope in King's discreet thumbs-up.
*
"Ho ho. Really?"
Jeon Sang-hee was apparently just an ordinary office worker before the war, surprisingly.
Not trained military, seemed forever divorced from guns—a plain non-doomsayer.
But in the rapids of apocalypse, he proved repeatedly he was more suited to survival than others.
"More intact than expected..."
Still, luck clearly played a huge part, in my eyes.
"That's kinda hard to believe."
With a personality so full of bias, quick to judge everything definitively—yet he climbed this high.
Well, pre-war, guys like that did eat well and live well.
I don't think there's any need to convince such people.
They have egos too bloated to listen and change.
Yet even this guy rides the tide brilliantly when it's situational, not verbal.
In a broad sense, maybe not much difference.
"Oh, SKELTON."
King is the one who creates and moves that tide.
"Your idea?"
A person like Jeon Sang-hee would never see King laughing openly, maskless.
"Hit him good with one shot, but not bad."
He offered me a drink.
"Getting dark out."
"Crash here one night."
"No women like last time, yeah?"
"Of course not."
"How's the kid I brought along doing?"
"Seemed quiet at first, but once settled in, she's a total wild child, they say."
"Well, can't fault that."
Bringing Su along seemed the right call.
Minor hiccups midway, but yeah.
Just gotta keep a proper distance from now on.
"Heard you got successor issues."
I swirled the glass King handed me as I asked.
Sensitive topic, but allowed now.
King nodded without much resentment.
"Everywhere you go. Bastards trying to hog what others built up the hard way."
"Heard fanatics are mixed in too."
"Jeon Sang-hee, that loose-lipped prick. Spilled that far?"
"Well, thanks to him, we can talk about it."
King sighed.
"Eh, just the usual power struggle."
"Yeah?"
"Always been fighting."
King stared at a metal cylinder in the corner of his room.
If my memory's right, his zombified predecessor was inside.
Though lately, no movement from it, so probably forgotten.
King wasn't looking at it directly, but behind the mask, his gaze pierced the same era as the one inside once did.
"Even rebuilding this trash heap of a ruined city from a tiny raiding band—fights never stopped. You know how it is. Guys who always wanna be boss. Who wanna call the shots."
"Figures."
Even neighborhood apartments brawl daily over that rep position.
In fact, King died from internal strife once, only to awaken and claw back to this seat.
The cost is creeping up now, but struggle seems inseparable from his life.
"Usual stuff. Even with punks scheming below now. Scale's bigger, so what."
"Fanatic group's pretty big. Started small, but growing. Big influx from North Korea too. Not to underestimate."
"I'm no pushover either."
King glanced at the laptop across the table.
"But that friend might do even better."
"iamjesus?"
"Yeah."
"What's your take on chatting with him?"
A bit curious.
What King got from that mess of a convo.
"Nothing much. For real."
"Yeah?"
I stared him down.
King got it, lifted his chin.
Spill it.
"...Sent iamjesus a ton of weird messages."
"Oh, that?"
"Spam level."
"Really?"
This guy.
Never posts, so no clue how he surfs the net.
But what he did to iamjesus? Pure, unadulterated spam.
The lowest kind—adult ads.
"Just between us, you thought that'd make iamjesus cave?"
"Nah, don't all guys go nuts for girls? Unless gay, every dude likes women, right?"
"Not something to generalize that hard."
"No, men are wired to love women. Even that no-contact loser Jeon Si-hoon had a girl."
"..."
Clearly, iamjesus isn't the only one needing education.
King needs internet etiquette lessons too.
Like a seasoned TA, I lectured over sips.
"Ugliest thing online is bragging. Even if you're hot shit, stay humble."
Like me.
"Don't force stuff on others. No bossing. If you don't like something, say so—but don't dictate. Online, unlike real life, just block and poof, gone."
Basic netiquette, plus gems from my desktop cleanup.
"iamjesus, turns out he doesn't dig super busty girls. And his tastes are kinda unique..."
"Ho ho, that so? iamjesus, you sly dog. Gotta hunt down a girl like that now."
"No, know the taste but don't shove it. Ease 'em open slow."
Then the key point.
"Me? No clue why, but felt like we'd click from the start."
"Ho ho. Why think that?"
King perked up.
Basic prediction.
iamjesus sparked it by messaging me.
"...Guy seemed real lonely. Held out till he couldn't delay, messaged me again."
In short, even without me, a right chance from anyone might've pulled him from that cold city.
Not King, though.
Connected now, but impossible without me as catalyst.
So, I deserve some credit.
"That gold bar? No need for it, right?"
"Take it."
So King gifted me that fat gold bar easy.
But amid this good flow, one nagging worry like a storm cloud.
"iamjesus. What do you think?"
The issue from the start.
iamjesus's qualifications.
King answered without hesitation.
"What else? Like you said. Total trash tier. Trash."
King laughed out loud.
"So, risky?"
King shook his head, stared straight at me.
Face hidden, but definitely smiling.
"I was trash tier too."
"Yeah?"
"You? SKELTON?"
"Me?"
Hm, self-praise itches, but truth is...
"Ace from the start."
"Trash tier."
"What?"
"Upper trash even."
"?"
What followed? Booze haze, don't remember well.
Silly talk, probably.
Girl prefs, sex jokes, pre-war daily life, future plans.
Don't recall King's grand vision, but my modest one lingers through hangover.
Something like:
"I'll be the last human. In Shangri-La."
Whatever that Shangri-La is.
Maybe that rift-interstice survival zone Woo Min-hee mentioned.
Would be nice if my turf overlapped the limit point.
"SKELTON! Look! King hooked me up huge with juicy stuff!"
At least this trip's haul is solid.
I got a gold bar, Su got piles of juicy snacks.
"I... like it here."
But maybe not all good for Rebecca.
We both forgot.
Girls with dreams always yearn for flashy cities.
"...Wanna live here with SKELTON."
"What about Mom?"
"She'd complain anyway. Getting real annoying."
King didn't see us off, like before.
Morning hangover? Fine.
His heart was confirmed in that boozy banter.
He'll hound and train iamjesus relentlessly.
Like his lifelong struggles.
"Good morning. As promised, we'll take you close by."
We left the city in Jeon Sang-hee's armored car.
But roadside, burning smells, people bustling, crowds gawking.
Something happen?
"What is it?"
I asked Jeon Sang-hee.
He rubbed under his nose, casual.
"That reporter guy I mentioned? Dropped dead yesterday."
"Oh?"
"Common here."
I eyed Jeon Sang-hee.
He glanced back, then asked instead.
"What, problem?"
"Nah. Nothing."
This guy, yesterday whining that reporter threatened King's seat.
To live in delusion of smarts, gotta flip thoughts and stances constantly.
Anyway, each with our baggage, we turned from the final city.
Gazing at countless rising smoke plumes.
Someday, all that smoke will fade.
After springs pass, summers come.
Can we keep surviving this peacefully that long?
One thing's sure.
The cylinder holding King's predecessor? Empty.
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