Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: 40. Luck (2)
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“You’re going to cosplay as me?”
Defender’s little sister’s proposal sounded a bit unrealistic.
The idea of someone else impersonating me felt like a story from another world entirely.
Impersonating Park Gyu?
Me, Professor Park Gyu?
“...It won’t be easy.”
It wouldn’t be easy.
Not by a long shot.
“We’re just borrowing the account. What’s the big deal?”
Hearing it laid out like that, it actually sounded pretty doable.
“...Hmm.”
“Hear me out? I’ll explain why I brought this up all of a sudden. Cool with you, bro?”
“Yeah. Skeleton, listen to our little sis.”
Contrary to what Defender said, it wasn’t really about listening to Defender’s little sister.
As always, it was about watching.
Defender’s little sister showed me the messages from that problem child.
“What’s this? Some middle schooler?”
“I wish.”
Defender’s little sister let out a sigh.
“But in this world, anyone who can get their hands on our gear...”
“Isn’t your average joe.”
Defender chimed in.
The Defender siblings were taking this pretty seriously.
“Might be a raider crew. Or a pioneer squad.”
“Can’t rule it out.”
“In a situation like this, getting pegged as a two-person team is dangerous as hell. You know that, right? It’s kinda our secret weapon.”
“Hmm...”
“No ‘hmm’—hear me out to the end!”
Dajeong’s plan was for her to shoot a beatbox video, then upload it under the Skeleton account.
“It’ll blow up for sure.”
She said it with total conviction.
“I used to post videos on Piktok all the time back in the day.”
“Ahem...”
It’d rack up views, no doubt.
Our forum pals don’t say it outright, but plenty lose their minds over a girl showing up.
But me becoming a girl? Well...
It’d trash the image of Skeleton—my other self.
Skeleton is Skeleton.
I’ve got my own vibe going.
The forum might not rate it high, but I’m the guy who charges ahead for the forum crew more than anyone, beatboxing now and then to shake off the loneliness—above all, the last user standing in Viva! Apocalypse!
“Not a fan, huh?”
Dajeong asked carefully.
“A little.”
No sooner had I replied than Defender jumped in.
“Skeleton, at your level, there’ll always be folks who’d clock you.”
I nodded without thinking.
Yeah.
One hundred percent.
“Honestly, that last beatbox vid was so rough even I couldn’t finish it. Show your real bod or face, and boom—caught.”
“Maybe.”
My old beatbox clips were locked down tight for security. If I’d gone full self-indulgent and shown more of myself, Woo Minhee would’ve sniffed out my identity ages ago.
“If Failnet weren’t lurking, maybe different. But with those Failnet creeps spying on our board, better keep our IDs fuzzy. Y’know, strategic ambiguity?”
“Strategic ambiguity...”
“That’s anonymity’s shield, right? Girl one day, guy the next, old geezer, total chad—whatever.”
“...Hmm.”
Anyway, the Defender siblings’ pitch wasn’t sitting right.
But the idea of keeping our identities vague? Yeah, I could salute that.
When anonymity’s your lifeline, getting doxxed offers jack squat in benefits.
Defender’s already catching heat from this Justice Min forum infiltrator right now. And me? Woo Minhee and anyone from my past could come knocking too.
“Hate Skeleton coming off as a girl?”
Dajeong blurted out.
“Kinda yeah.”
“Then digital weathering, make it look stolen, or like family—tons of ways to keep Skeleton’s mystique intact.”
“People know my face though?”
“Only a few. But even they’ll second-guess.”
“Fine. Let’s roll. Whatever it takes.”
M9 threw down the gauntlet anyway.
Winning or losing that playground spat? Doesn’t matter. But like Dajeong said, it’s a shot.
Me dropping a random beatbox vid out of nowhere? Same pathetic view count, buried like always. But with M9 laying the groundwork now, eyes’ll be on mine.
No forced viral push from me or Defender—others’ll spread it organic-like.
Dajeong instead of me? Plenty of splash.
Enough to seed that “strategic ambiguity” the siblings crave.
I was wrapping up comms with that in mind when—
“Oh. And Skeleton. Don’t cut out. Got something on my end too.”
Defender himself had words for me now.
This quiet guy who barely chimes in suddenly has business?
Curiosity piqued, I asked.
“What?”
“Remember those Legion Faction goons near our old spot when we moved?”
“Ah, those assholes. What’re they up to? Hoarding troops like war’s imminent.”
Topic veered off for a sec, but those Legion forces turning into wildcards? Locked in.
In this end-times mess, massing that kinda firepower screams incoming shitstorm.
But their endgame? Foggy.
They’ve had shots at Seoul takeover multiple times. Zilch movement.
Seen combat choppers buzzing, but theirs or from the sticks? No clue.
Defender sniffed something out from those coiled-up bastards.
“Those guys...”
A dark cloud hung in Defender’s voice.
“Look like they’re linking up with the fanatics.”
“What?”
I bolted upright.
“Their turf butts right up, yeah? Saw it from afar, so not gospel, but vibes are trash.”
“...Yeah?”
This ain’t small potatoes.
Hell, dwarfs that Jeju evac fleet shitstorm lighting up the forum by thousands-fold.
Legion Faction and fanatics teaming up.
Means an Awakener-backed army’s born.
Uncharted territory.
Korea and the West kept Hunter crews—including Awakeners—strictly siloed from military. China branded Awakeners foes to the bitter end.
Treaties say Hunters—Awakeners included—ain’t “soldiers” per Geneva. Act the part, same gigs, but civilians or special civvies.
Old-school Hunters like me? Indistinguishable from grunts. But Awakeners? Eerie traits that could flip warfare post-nukes.
Military upside? Endless.
Jack shit known, so potential’s damn near infinite.
They pivot barrels from monsters to meat? Deadlier than beasts, hands down.
Even sub-level-5 trash powers useless vs big bads turn nightmare foes.
Flash to that green rookie who tracked me at Lee Sanghun’s memorial.
She “sensed” me—not spotted.
Sensing’s dogshit vs monsters.
No human-style stealth, cover, ambushes from ‘em.
Trash-tier vs monsters. Vs humans? Game-changer.
Hide how you want, ambush whatever—step in her sense zone? Busted.
Solo sensing-only trash Awakener fights like wet fart. Pair with drilled soldiers?
New breed of hell.
“How’d you catch it? Eyewitness?”
Clinging to hope it’s bullshit, I pressed Defender.
Detoured to our old place for forgotten gear. Spotted fanatic pack strolling into Legion outpost. Grunts didn’t bat an eye.
“Really?”
“Far off, but legit.”
“That’s heavy.”
“Heading back for round two.”
“Sketchy?”
“Quiet hood’s nice, but dead boring. Time for a revisit.”
“...Watch your back.”
Best I could offer Defender right now.
Leg wound’s got me sidelined from recon. He’s the play.
“Oh, swinging by your bunker with sis first.”
“W-What?!”
“Beatbox vid time. Skeleton!”
*
Inviting friends over? Haven’t since elementary.
Memory hits: my dear sis—gone forever—chewing me out.
“Hey! Park Gyu! Friend’s coming and your room’s a sty? Total pigpen!”
Sis nagged like nobody’s business.
But doted on her wild little bro hard.
Her pitching in to tidy my chaos: scooping trash into the bin, stacking desk books, dusting propped-up shelf plamo models I’d ditched mid-build.
Sis ain’t here no more.
Cleaning my dim-lit bunker solo, mind wandered to brighter days long gone.
Those peaceful, lowkey routines before hate’s inferno scorched my chest.
“...”
That chest-fire still crackles.
Forced exile dumped me here.
Root cause? My own weakness.
“Goddamn it! Body won’t budge!”
Just the recall guts me.
“Telekinesis! That fucker! He’s got telekinesis!”
Rift showdown with a beast I couldn’t touch.
The one I’d named. Hunted.
General-type.
My axe that carved monster hordes? Paralyzed before him.
Couldn’t twitch.
Infinite ghost force pulverized my meat-string power like gravel.
Aimed to slay him, prove my chops. He flipped it—death warrant on my faint shot.
“Gurk!”
“Captain!!!”
That day, Professor died.
Park Gyu scraped by. Pointless.
Ditched the front, rotted in this pit.
Life looked set to silt up like riverbed sand, gone forever.
World’s bigger though.
Realms past my peepers? Everywhere.
“Whoa. Huge. Like, massive. But what the—?! Toilet smack in the middle? On a damn pedestal?”
“I know this! That Back Twin thing? Toilet in an art gallery?”
“Skeleton a Western artist? No way!”
Friends showed.
First since grade school.
Sis see this? Freakout city.
Girl too—and cute one at that.
“...Welcome to Skeleton Proud Supreme Castle.”
*
Bunker backdrop, Dajeong dropped her beatbox.
Brutal truth: unlistenable.
“Boom-bap bap chiki-chiki bap!”
“...”
Her net-fu though? Pro-tier.
“Digital weathering this bad boy. Confusion sown.”
Pro moves: aged the vid, noise overlay, metadata faked to pre-war timestamp.
“Still catch impersonator heat, but eh. Your headache, Skeleton.”
“No sweat. Rock bottom’s hit.”
“Never say never.”
Dajeong flashed a grin, slid the tablet over with her draft message.
“Yeah. Let’s do this!”
And so Skeleton’s bold new opus hit Viva! Apocalypse!
The Defender siblings chowed my rations trackside, eyeing Viva! Apocalypse! reactions together.
Crickets at first.
Then.
One nibbled the bait.
Defender’s sis dropped crumbs mid-giggle-fest.
“Yo, Unicorn. Unicorn! This otaku prick!”
Unicorn hit my DMs pronto.
“Look at this dude DMing. Otaku’s got that slime vibe!”
Dajeong cracked up, but shot me a subtle worried glance.
Probably fretting for me.
Didn’t take long for her worry to flip to shock—tinged with faint scorn.
Tap-tap.
“S-Skeleton?”
“Whoa...”
“Thought you hated the girl bit...?”
The two-as-one siblings gawked at me in sync.
“...”
Strategic ambiguity.