Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 55.4: 20 Hours and 30 Minutes (4)

People walked past the old man being beaten by the boys, ignoring him entirely.

I intended to do the same.

It wasn’t worth intervening to save an old man, especially when the perpetrators were aggressive teenage boys. There was no profit in stepping in.

But then I recognized the old man.

It was the same one who had been rambling nonsense outside Hunter Street earlier.

The boys didn’t seem intent on killing him. After a few kicks to the old man, who was curled up like a shrimp, they ran off down the street.

"I’ve never lied," the old man muttered to himself like a mantra.

I checked the time.

I planned to stay here for the day. Specifically, for 20 hours and 30 minutes—until the ship reached Jeju.

I wanted to see how it all played out.

Right here, from the departure point of the ships.

"That ship isn’t going to Jeju. It’s not. It’ll sink halfway."

The old man, still crouched on the ground, kept muttering.

"Why do you think that?" I asked.

Just an hour ago, I wouldn’t have imagined speaking to this man first.

"The fleet. It’ll sink. Didn’t I say that?"

The old man, groaning in pain and humiliation, looked up at me when I responded.

"I was one of the captains of the first Jeju evacuation fleet," he said.

"Excuse me?"

He held something out to me.

It was a waterlogged, crumpled, and shriveled item that might have once been an ID card. Having been soaked, dried, and damaged repeatedly, its surface had deteriorated to the point where it was unrecognizable.

"I was the one who sent the first fleet to China."

*

"I used to pilot container ships before the war."

The old man’s name, inscribed on his ID, was illegible due to wear and tear, but with some effort, I could make out that his last name was likely Kang.

"Are you saying you were part of the first evacuation fleet?" I asked skeptically, fully expecting it to be a lie. But Captain Kang nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

If it were Baek Seung-hyun standing here, he would’ve thrown a punch by now—or perhaps grabbed the man by the collar and tossed him into the sea.

"The captain and essential crew members quietly transferred to another ship during the night and returned to Incheon," Kang continued.

"Is that even possible?"

"To people on land, the sea is as alien as it is to a newborn child. A slight rocking of the ship has them turning pale and vomiting, and if the ship tilts just a little, they cry out as if the world’s ending. We can manipulate the ship to make it rock on calm waters or tilt at precarious angles."

"Really?"

"It’s called zigzagging. Sailing in that pattern at high speed makes even the largest ships sway as though they’ve encountered massive waves. No matter how many passengers are onboard, we can herd them like sheep. Unlike a car, where inertia is instantly felt, the motion builds gradually, rolling through the body like waves. Even when we pull such tricks, passengers rarely realize it’s deliberate."

At this point, I sat down beside the old man. Not because I was particularly convinced, but because I found his explanation surprisingly coherent.

I had expected the usual incoherent rambling but was met with a story that, at least, had some structure. Even if it was nonsense, I figured I could spare some time for conversation—I had 20 hours and 30 minutes to kill, after all.

"Our orders were to scuttle the fleet. Make it look like the fleet was sunk by a Chinese submarine," Kang said.

By sheer coincidence, we had ended up in a bad part of town. Women and young girls approached, propositioning me with veiled language and trying to negotiate. I waved them off and moved to a different location, which turned out to be near Hunter Street, behind the research lab.

Several hunters and their families, whom I barely recognized, shot disapproving looks at the old man. However, since they knew who I was, they refrained from starting anything.

"Do you have any proof?" I asked.

Captain Kang shook his head.

"There’s no contract or anything like that. Everything was verbal. We even had to pass through those airport-like scanners to ensure we weren’t recording anything."

He gestured toward the research lab.

"We signed the deal there, me and the other captains."

"With whom?"

"They didn’t tell us."

"A woman, maybe?"

"I couldn’t say. The person in charge never showed up. But their surname was..."

"Yes?"

"Kang said it was something like Yang."

If he had randomly picked that surname, he was incredibly lucky.

"I see. So you’re saying you made a secret deal with the government, signed up as a captain for the first evacuation fleet, sent the ships to China, and then returned here?"

"Yes, that’s correct."

"And you have no proof?"

"None. There was nothing we could’ve kept as evidence."

"What about the other captains?"

"They went back to Incheon with their first mates. That was part of the deal."

"Why send the fleet to China?"

There was an edge to my voice now. It wasn’t just my imagination. I had started this conversation out of curiosity, but his consistent lies and testimonies were beginning to irritate me.

There are certain topics you don’t make up stories about. The senseless deaths of innocent people fall into that category.

"Explain yourself."

I wasn’t planning to go as far as Baek Seung-hyun might, but I had already decided that I needed to get this old man off Hunter Street.

"There’s a story behind it," Kang said, casting a shadowed look toward Hunter Street.

"I deserved what I got from those boys," he sighed deeply, his gaze shifting upward.

"I abused my wife and son terribly. I believed the boy wasn’t mine. My wife had given birth while I was at sea, and when I saw him at the hospital, he didn’t resemble me at all. We hadn’t been intimate often back then."

Why do the elderly always circle back to family when they tell their stories?

"What does this have to do with your son and the fleet?"

"When my son was about to enter university, he finally stood up to me. It was shocking, but I knew it was inevitable. I divorced my wife and cut ties with both of them. I didn’t feel any regret—I had hidden savings and a new woman. But then, as fate would have it, cancer struck."

"..."

"I lost everything—money, health, my career. Strangely, as my life fell apart, I found myself thinking about my wife and son again."

"And? Did you reunite with them?"

"No. That was the end of it. All I ever saw again was a wedding photo my ex-wife sent me. Then the war broke out, people started dying, and I ended up in Incheon. I heard they were recruiting experienced captains."

"For the evacuation fleet?"

"That’s right. I didn’t care whether people lived or died. When I heard the fleet’s true purpose while onboard, I wasn’t even surprised. But when we were making preparations to leave, I saw them on deck."

Tears glistened in Kang’s wrinkled eyes.

"My son. Under the lights, with who I assumed was his wife, holding a baby. They were standing at the bow, staring out at the horizon. It was night, so there was nothing to see. I immediately checked the passenger list."

"And?"

"I couldn’t find him. The list was on paper, but it was a mess. It started out neatly written but devolved into gibberish—nonsensical symbols like someone had just scribbled at random. But that was definitely my son..."

A question was on the tip of my tongue: Didn’t you once think he wasn’t your son? But it seemed pointless to ask now.

"The time came. The government officials gave the order to sink the ship. That’s when I made a suggestion, as the de facto representative: rather than risk the explosives failing to sink the ship or getting caught in the blast ourselves, why not just send the fleet straight to China?"

"And that’s how the fleet ended up there?"

"It must’ve been."

For once, the old man hesitated.

"...If the currents were on their side."

In truth, the fleet had barely enough fuel. The Jeju evacuation fleet was a one-way ticket to death.

As Kang wrapped up his story, I couldn't shake the image of Baek Seung-hyun and Filkrum from my mind. Would their ends truly be as unceremonious as drowning at sea? It seemed absurd, even in this apocalypse where billions had already perished.

"Thank you," Kang said, bowing his head.

"Thank you for listening to the ramblings of an old man."

He turned toward the docks and walked away.

I said nothing in response. Instead, I headed back to Hunter Street, entering Baek Seung-hyun’s home.

The dingy walls were decorated with character stickers, seemingly scavenged from somewhere. On a dust-covered desk was a strangely clean spot, likely where his laptop had been.

The 20 hours and 30 minutes weren’t up yet.

I would stay here and wait to see how it all ended.

After all, Kang’s story was just one perspective.

*

"The guy who lives in a bunker, right?"

Bang Jae-hyuk came to find me.

He looked at me for a moment before reclining lazily on a bench, his sharp eyes cutting toward mine.

"Think I could move in with you?"

"What about your mother?"

"What mother? She's passed away."

"Aren't you Bang Jae-hyuk from the 15th class?"

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"I'm Cheon Young-jae, 18th class, actually."

"..."

And there it was, one reason why I often drew complaints from my juniors—I had a hard time remembering names. I could remember faces perfectly, but sometimes my mental matching process short-circuited. Like a finely tuned machine, prone to the occasional glitch.

"My bunker barely fits just me."

"I'm not asking to crash at your place."

"Then what?"

"More like I’m looking to form a pact with someone of your caliber. You know, a partnership of sorts."

"Are you talking about forming a group?"

"Exactly!"

Bang Jae-hyuk—or rather, Cheon Young-jae—clapped his hands enthusiastically.

"I’m not interested."

"Why not?!"

"I’m too picky for that."

"Wow... That’s seriously the reason?"

I looked around us.

"You like living here?"

Cheon Young-jae chuckled bitterly.

"And how long do you think this place will last?"

"Forever."

"You know better than that. This city is barely holding itself together. Why do you think the Legion faction hasn’t invaded yet? They know if they leave it alone, it’ll collapse on its own."

"You got a K-walkie-talkie?"

"Yeah, I do."

"What’s your personal ID code?"

"Nothing fancy like that. Oh, wait—I do have one! Baekga gave it to me!"

Cheon Young-jae’s eyes lit up.

"What was it again... DARAM?"

"..."

I couldn’t help but laugh under my breath.

So this is how it’s come full circle.

The radio my junior once held had ended up in Baek Seung-hyun’s hands, only to pass back down to my junior’s junior.

I don’t believe in superstition, but I couldn’t help feeling a sense of fate as I told him, "SKELTON."

"Skelping?"

"Skelton."

Cheon Young-jae smirked confidently, like he was making a prophecy.

"I heard you live out on the edge of Pyeongtaek. I’ll bring a bottle of booze over one day."

"No booze. Bring cola."

"Cola works too."

There wasn’t much else worth noting about the exchange.

Anyway, amidst the peace, boredom, and mild irritation, the 20 hours and 30 minutes passed.

In the plaza where the crowds had gathered, fireworks painted the night sky, celebrating the safe arrival of Hope.

The gathered people imbued their prayers and wishes into the scattering sparks, their hopes glowing as brightly as the fireworks.

Amidst those countless wishes, a single corpse floated to the surface by the docks. But in a world where corpses were more common than hopes, no one paid it any mind.

*

DragonC’s Message:

"Thank you. I’ve made it this far because of you! I’ll keep my promise, Skelton. I swear on my pen name, Filkrum88."

When I got home and turned on the internet, I was convinced the old man’s predictions had been wrong.

The ship arrived safely, and Filkrum seemed alive and well.

The forum reflected the same upbeat mood.

DONGTANMOM:

"Nyam nyam! m9, m9, nyam nyam!"

Baek Seung-hyun was clearly overjoyed.

mmmmmmmmm:

"What should I eat tonight?"

m9 was desperately pretending not to notice.

DONGTANMOM:

"Nyam nyam! I can see it! Jeju Island! Nyam nyam!"

DongtanMom relentlessly taunted m9 until the very end.

“Hm?”

But wait. Wasn’t Hope already supposed to have arrived?

Filkrum’s message had come exactly 20 hours and 30 minutes after the ship set sail.

DONGTANMOM:

"(DongtanMom’s Photo Time) Let’s see Jeju Island together~"

DongtanMom proudly uploaded a photo.

The image showed a churning sea and a faint silhouette of land through the mist.

mmmmmmmmm:

"What’s that?"

The ever-aloof m9, who had been grinding his teeth to ignore DongtanMom, was the first to comment.

mmmmmmmmm:

"Isn’t that a Chinese signboard...?"

“Huh?”

It really was.

Zooming in on the photo, the signboards were clearly written in simplified Chinese.

And that skyline in the mist—it was unmistakably the Shanghai skyline.

Anonymous848:

"It’s real. It’s really China."

Anonymous458:

"Hey, DongtanMom, that’s China...."

Foxgames:

"Holy."

SKELTON:

"(Skelton shocked)"

gijayangban:

"LOL."

unicorn18:

"?"

...

After a brief silence, DongtanMom wrote again.

DONGTANMOM:

"Nyam..."

mmmmmmmmm:

"Yom nom nom~"

Whether Hope arrived in Jeju Island or in China, there was no way to tell.

Perhaps there were two ships named Hope, or maybe, as Captain Kang suggested, only the chosen ones had transferred to another vessel.

One thing was certain: this story was far from over.

DONGTANMOM:

"Proof."

Baek Seung-hyun revealed himself, his wife, and even his baby in a photo.

DONGTANMOM:

"We will survive."

There are two entities bearing the name Hope: one a building, the other a ship.

Though their locations and purposes differ vastly, within both lie people struggling for survival in this era where survival is the ultimate goal.

DONGTANMOM:

"We will return alive."

This is yet another story of hope.