Chapter 82
Chapter 82
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 82
Chapter Title: 45. Rainy Season
-----------------------------------------------------------------
It's raining.
It's the rainy season.
The endless downpour shows no sign of letting up.
My bunker has excellent drainage, so it can handle all but the heaviest storms without issue. But the new fake bunker is a different story.
I threw on a raincoat and went out to check it.
My uneasy premonition proved spot-on.
The fake bunker, which I'd slaved over for a month, was already showing signs of collapse.
At this rate, it'd cave in before the Legion Faction even showed up.
I needed to reinforce it.
I dismantled the booby traps linked to the barbed wire one by one, recovered the explosives, and pumped out the water.
Once the water was gone, I felled some nearby trees and fashioned simple supports to brace the ceiling.
I wanted to use cement, but with the rain pouring nonstop, curing was out of the question—hell, even pouring it was impossible. So I had to settle for the wooden braces.
With the Defender siblings gone, the work fell entirely on me.
Doing it alone made it twice as exhausting, no doubt.
Before the war, I could've worked without worrying about prying eyes, soaking wet until my body felt like cotton, crash for a while, then get back to it. But now? I couldn't even sleep properly, and during work, I had to stay vigilant, constantly scanning the surroundings.
It really drove home how valuable a scout like Defender's little brother was.
My body ached so badly I nearly called Defender back, the urge rising right up to my throat. But hey, I've got a conscience.
In the end, I installed all the support braces without help and patched the fake bunker enough to hold for now.
But the sky can be merciless at times.
Shwaaaaa—
This year's rainy season was especially ruthless.
A deluge poured down.
Rumble!
With thunder crashing, it was like a hole had ripped open in the heavens, unleashing a torrent.
The rain gauge clocked a staggering 70mm per hour.
The worst downpour since the war began.
And maybe that's why.
Knock knock knock.
Droplets began forming on the ceiling, which had never leaked before, and muddy water seeped in through the main entrance I'd sealed with earth.
Problems cropped up in the plumbing too.
Gurgle gurgle—
The moment the central toilet let out a grotesque groan, I shut all the valves.
That was close.
A hair's breadth from blocking the backflow surging toward the septic tank.
I'd saved the whole bunker from turning into a shitheap.
But this was just the tip of the iceberg.
The massive rain hammering everywhere was crushing everything beneath it.
Plop plop plop—
In the afternoon, I heard soil collapsing.
Not from the fake bunker—from the valley across the way.
The fragile ground, littered only with dead trees and sprouts, had given way and slid toward the valley.
A swarm of worries bubbled up in my head.
The worst? Flooding.
Especially the underground food storage and generators submerging—that'd be a death sentence for me.
Throughout the rain, I kept my eyes peeled, darting between the second and third basement levels, the garage, and the main bunker, monitoring for leaks.
I wanted to pat my past self on the back.
With over 300mm of concentrated rain, my bunker held firm.
But there was damage.
The first floor, directly exposed to the outside, was flooded through.
Up to my ankles, but even that made normal life in the bunker nearly impossible.
And the smell—vile.
I'd stopped the direct sewage backflow from the toilet, but the septic tank had filled with rainwater, splashing its contents everywhere. Some mixed with other runoff and invaded my bunker.
The rainwater mingled with the sludge was still belching out that musty, foul dampness, turning my bunker into hell right now.
I stepped out and checked the sky.
The rain had paused briefly, but it was still overcast.
The rainy season raged on.
I checked the fake bunker.
After reinforcing it like mad, it hadn't collapsed, but inside, it was a literal water tank.
"Ha."
Standing before the might of nature, I felt how utterly insignificant humans are, and grabbed a shovel.
Thud—
I aimed at the main bunker's entrance, which I'd buried with the excavator before.
I had to open the main bunker door.
For drainage and ventilation, no choice.
Leaving it shut meant no telling when I'd drain the water or air out the stench.
Even with an exhaust system, nothing beats cracking the door wide.
Thud—
Fortunately, the softened earth dug easily.
Soon, my home's sturdy front door emerged.
Not many know this, but on the face of this solid steel door, "Park Gyu" is engraved in tiny letters.
Like a nameplate, I guess.
I saw folks in the neighborhood hanging theirs and copied them.
Not sure if anyone notices.
Anyway, I flung open the heavy, blunt door, revealing hot, humid, stinking air and stairs descending endlessly.
I carefully descended and started pumping.
Vrrrrm—
Buying the drainage pump was a genius move.
Like ordering a side at a restaurant on a whim and it outshining the main dish?
Bought it for septic cleaning, never dreamed it'd shine like this.
Thinking about it, anyone living underground needs one, yet few emphasize it.
Everyone knows drainage matters, but they focus on waterproofing to prevent flooding, not contingencies if it fails.
No internet in this mess, but probably tons of forum folks are suffering now.
Without a pump, it'd be buckets.
While the 10-horsepower pump chugged away, I climbed the hill above the bunker.
From the misty peak, I surveyed the surroundings.
Water everywhere.
Blanketing everything.
Haven't seen abandoned fields that flooded in ages.
Braving the drizzle, I circled the area.
One dummy bunker had collapsed.
The bunker itself was fine, but surrounding soil slid down, blocking the entrance.
Back at the main bunker, the pump had nearly emptied it.
The rest needed mopping and boiler-drying.
I stowed the pump and tried the faucet.
"......Ha."
Mountains beyond mountains, huh.
Rainwater had leaked into the water tank too.
The muddy color dripping into my hand said it all.
The rain poured all night.
Not as intense, but with it ongoing, tank cleaning had to wait.
No showers, slept wet in the truck inside.
Drinking water was an issue too.
With the tank contaminated, I used purification capsules to make drinkable water from the muck.
"Ugh!"
Tasted like disinfectant, naturally.
I used spare purified water to wash my face and messaged neighbors.
Defender's place was chaos.
"Brother-in-law! Perfect timing. Lend me a pump?"
"Kyaa! We're one step from water ghosts!"
Theirs was underground too.
High-rise Sniper folks barely noticed.
"Korean buildings are solid. Sturdy."
"Rain makes me crave juicy stuff."
Rebecca rarely praising Korea meant they stayed bone-dry.
The rain showed no mercy.
With prior pipe issues from the first deluge, I couldn't rest or wash—had to patrol the whole bunker.
Two days passed like that.
"......"
My reflection was a wreck.
Hair matted, face sallow, deep dark circles.
Worse: despite the exhaustion, more grunt work awaited.
At this point, Legion Faction, Awakened, Jeju Island— all trivial.
My survival was on the line; who cares about distant threats.
Floods and the massive workload made everything else feel remote.
*
I logged on three days after the rainy season ended.
First time in nearly a week.
Couldn't during the rain.
Humidity had all first-floor breakers off, no time anyway.
Looked like nationwide devastation.
Most striking: Failnet's silence.
Failnet was down.
Oh yeah, John_nenon's hideout was underground.
Hope he's okay.
Messaged his underling.
Our John_nenon was still kicking, thankfully.
But unexpected info: Failnet's government ties.
Not from the start, probably reached out as influence grew.
Anyway, Failnet's quiet let our board return to its bustling little village vibe.
Tons of familiar users posting.
All about the rain.
Brutal, massive damage—same story.
Messaged folks I knew.
"......"
Everyone clinging to life tenaciously.
But this flood would stab dying Korea again.
Sure enough, our reporter brought Incheon news.
No pics or proof.
But everyone trusted Reporter.
They'd felt it bone-deep.
Flood from a protected apartment vs. thigh-deep water? Worlds apart.
Just more of the latter this time.
Vrrrrm—
Next to the fake bunker, the pump chugged away.
Worked through the rainy season, but endless tasks remained.
Clean tank, fix groundwater pump, clear drain debris, tidy, dry.
"......"
Tempting to quit everything.
Drown in drugs or booze like others, live haphazardly.
But no.
Still things I wanna see.
Far south in Jeju, old comrades closing rifts, they say.
Wanna check results.
Not easy.
Rain or not, Legion Faction knows me; attack possible anytime.
Even pumping this fake bunker—another struggle to survive.
"Hm?"
Something wriggling from the damp soil.
Cicada nymph.
Not big enough to emerge yet, but wild weather forced an early adult preview.
Tossed it back in soil, stared at the fake bunker.
Sudden thought: aren't I like a cicada?
Cicadas spend nearly seven years underground prepping for emergence, then sing, breed once, and die.
This fake bunker too.
Built for one show.
Explode, collapse in Legion Faction's eyes.
Pure waiting till then.
No knowing when or how long.
Maybe they never come, like Defender said.
“Means endless maintenance on this collapse-ready bunker, liable to give way at any moment, against unpredictable foes.”
Could be over seven years.
"......Like a cicada."
I'm a cicada now.
Mirror therapy for Dongtanmom—no, Baek Seung-hyeon.
Reactions: shock all around.
Even I see it's bizarrely over-the-top.
Stress relief, that's all.
Some impulse like a storm hit me, madness I can't explain.
Maybe natural.
Always harbored grudge against that bastard Baek Seung-hyeon.
Stress boiled over.
And this weird concept struck a chord with one guy.
One of the board's four certified lunatics, iamjesus, bit.
Good so far.
Lunatics attract like magnets.
Problem: his attached pic.
"......Hm?"
Dark bunker interior.
Meager furnishings, obscenely explicit adult toys, pathetic-looking guy.
Standard ugly pic.
Except the mad gleam in his eyes and the grayish halo behind him.
I know this phenomenon.
"Alpha Awakening."
Characteristic when top Awakened realize their power.
Unlike others, they radiate insane brilliance, proclaiming divine selection to the world.
God chose the board's outcast lunatic.