Chapter 53
Chapter 53
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: Transformation (1)
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A sudden thought transformed me into a red-faced boy.
It all started on PaleNet.
I hadn't logged into PaleNet with any grand purpose.
As usual, I was mindlessly scrolling through mostly pointless information when my eyes caught on one particular board.
This board was basically a hangout for kids aspiring to be my juniors.
It ranked a whopping 8th on the PaleNet leaderboard.
A major board.
Its users were mostly mid-to-late teens.
They scraped together radio signals from government buildings or military facilities, barely connecting to PaleNet just to post their silly nonsense—that was their one joy in life. And the board's public reputation? A 99% pure gathering spot for "total loser lives."
I'd actually peeked in before, but the users were so ridiculously low-level and childish that I bounced right out.
Still, places with big crowds always have their reasons for drawing people.
And this board had its own intriguing culture.
The culture in question? Litji certification—uploading pics of the psychic aptitude test sheets (the same kind hanging in my house) for everyone to judge and rate.
Search the Guard Applicant Board with the "litji cert" tag, and you'd see these kids' jealousy, approval-seeking, sneaky trash-talk, and the rare honest praise popping up like beans in a drought.
...
Search for it, and every tom, dick, and harry seems to have gotten white. But open them up? All black.
Whites popped up here and there, but they were fakes—kids ripping up blank paper to fake litji certs.
Even amid all the pranks and bait posts, real certs weren't that rare.
I knew litji sheets varied in color based on psychic potential levels, but I didn't know exactly what each color meant.
This board had plenty of vague hints about what colors corresponded to Awakener levels.
One post clued me in: blue meant level 1.
The bare minimum for psychic powers—just barely awakened.
Gray was level 5 or higher, I learned.
I didn't find out white's level, but there was something else interesting, unrelated to levels.
The board wasn't just kids.
True to Korea's obsession with kid education, even this 99% loser-life board had tons of lurking parents.
...
But this place was way too harsh for their education fever to survive.
The unfiltered, brutal mockery showed these were nobodies.
The real "adults" were elsewhere.
In a board overflowing with impersonators, trolls, shit-stirrers, and low-education psychos, one adult got special treatment.
Redmask.
The absolute ruler of this board.
No one dared leave hate comments, snark, or pick fights with Redmask.
Because Redmask could give these kids exactly what they wanted most.
But that nickname, Redmask...
It hit me differently.
"Woo Min-hee...?"
The instant I saw it, I pictured that repulsive woman with prosthetic arm and leg.
Identical personal ID to Woo Min-hee's.
If I hadn't seen her research facility, I might've chalked it up to coincidence. But that place had over a hundred Jeju-hungry kids crammed in tiny rooms—some dissected on slabs.
"..."
This Redmask.
No doubt.
Woo Min-hee.
Unlike me, she loved SNS.
Especially Inssa-gram, where she preferred subtly flexing her daily life via photos over text vents.
I knew she'd gotten a warning from the National Crisis Committee's compliance department for posting Hunter hints on her account with over 10k followers.
I heard the complaint myself as team lead.
Hunter identity leaks violated secrecy oaths.
A net-savvy woman like her wouldn't skip PaleNet, the apocalypse's biggest forum.
But pinning it from posts alone? Tough—she only commented, never posted.
And her comments were always the same.
Conversations happened via those links, apparently.
Luring PaleNet's no-messaging weakness into private networks? Peak Woo Min-hee creativity.
"...Woo Min-hee."
By then, I'd concluded the Guard board's super named NPC REDMASK was her.
Curiosity piqued.
What exactly was she doing in that research facility?
I got that she was recruiting for Jeju's new school, but she was knee-deep in side research too.
Plus, Woo Min-hee was a level 12 Awakener.
Only ten over-leveled Awakeners in all Korea.
One of fewer than ten staying in Seoul instead of safe Jeju?
She cited grudges against Kang Han-min and Na Hye-in, but that fox wouldn't ditch Jeju's safety for danger-filled capital on spite alone.
"..."
Something was up.
But how to pry into her secrets?
I was smirking bitterly at the silver teacher's rocket axe sketch on my desk when...
A genius idea flashed through my mind.
"Ah."
Right—direct contact.
As not Park Gyu, SKELTON, or Professor, but anonymous ㅇㅇ on PaleNet.
In other words, pose as one of this board's boys, bait her to approach me, and extract the info I want.
Bait for Woo Min-hee? The teacher's white litji.
Litji sheets have a gimmick like currency: pre-printed black school mark that reveals when it changes.
The teacher's white one prominently featured his custom school emblem—a skull and half-shattered shield on pure white.
This cert would hook her for sure.
She'd personally "select" kids for proper grays.
One issue remained: the conversation.
Even anonymous, two years online taught me language, style, subtle ideologies pinpoint you more than you'd think.
Take me: John_nenon-style titles, "nah-nat" drips, ahead-of-curve highbrow gags.
Compared to this board's users, my speech screamed outsider.
Chatting Woo Min-hee like that? Worst case, identity blown.
Defender even said I sucked at internet...
So I resolved to transform.
Professor Park Gyu, potential last human, becomes early-teen boy on Guard Applicant Board.
Easier said than done.
Some claim no-face internet makes age-faking simple.
Bullshit!
Keyboards don't erase old-man stink.
Text, mirror of the mind, reeks of age and mileage strongest.
Test: posted on applicant board.
Three replies.
"..."
For a hardened early-30s guy who's tasted life's bitters to become a flighty teen boy? Takes guts and humility.
Tap tap tap
Author Nick: ㅇㅇ
First, ditch unique SKELTON for generic ㅇㅇ mask.
Tap tap tap tap
Scrap signature intros for meaningless gibberish.
Tap tap tap
Lie about age.
Tap tap
-Why u here tho...?
Forget my 30s self.
"..."
Perfect.
Fully prepped.
Time to contact Woo Min-hee.
Tap tap tack
With Zhuge Liang's declaration-of-war vibe, I posted.
Litji test did plz rate (103)
-“Is it average?”
Keep it short.
No proper sentences—just trendy initials, not even full letters.
Mimic the boys' lingo while snapping the teacher's litji under sunlight at my outdoor decoy house.
Then wait.
"Oh."
Over a hundred comments.
...
Even the kids could spot the real deal.
But I wasn't waiting for them.
Just one target.
Redmask.
*My communicator buzzed.
"SKELTON."
Dajeong.
"What? Sudden."
"That post on PaleNet applicant board—you?"
"Huh? What post?"
"2 meters whatever."
"You on applicant board?"
"Nah? Saw on hot posts?"
Hot posts?
My post hit PaleNet's popular list?
What to do.
No need to confess.
This was between me and Woo Min-hee.
"Not me."
"Yeah didn't seem like you. Checked just in case."
"Y-yeah? Why think that?"
"Nick's that old John_nenon style, but post and content feel off—like someone else?"
A knowing smile crept on my face at Defender bro's words. Natural.
Even Defender bought it.
Saw me as a teen boy.
SKELTON's transformation: innocent.
Now wait for Woo Min-hee.
And wouldn't you know.
Bite.
Clicked the link.
Browser auto-jumped to an unknown site.
Ultra-simple interface, like old-school chat rooms.
Woo Min-hee typed first.
Three messages at once.
How does she chat with one arm? Even wavy emojis...
Awakener perks?
Nah—voice recognition, probably. Tech's reliable now.
Anyway, game on.
"..."
Clear mind, summon teen boy.
Not Professor Park Gyu—mischievous teen SKELTON.
Typing...
Tadak tadak
"Ha!"
Look at Woo Min-hee squirm.
First time meeting a punk like this.
Never dreamed a 30+ dude would go full chaotic elementary kid.
Wanna troll more, but got questions.
Long-time curiosities too.
Like the "Jeju evacuation ships."