Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 98.1: Mausoleum (1)

Unicorn18.

First, he messages me out of nowhere.

Then, he suddenly asks about Foxgames.

It’s a bit confusing, but I can’t just ignore an old friend reaching out after so long.

I take a deep breath and reply calmly.

SKELTON: (Skelton, confused) I wouldn’t say we’re that close anymore. What’s up?

unicorn18: Weren’t you two tight?

SKELTON: A wise man chooses his friends carefully.

unicorn18: ...So, not really close. Got it. I’ll ask someone else.

SKELTON: Even if we’re not close, I still have some connections. What do you need?

Technically, we’re blocked by each other.

But knowing Foxgames, he probably didn’t block me back.

A lot of people underestimate me online—until they meet me in real life.

And nobody who’s met me in person has ever taken me lightly.

"...Hmph."

Tap, tap.

SKELTON: I’ll take care of it.

Maybe it was my confidence, or maybe Unicorn18 still had some respect for me—whatever the reason, he decided to open up.

unicorn18: It’s about Foxgames. That bastard shut down a game I used to play.

SKELTON: That text-based game?

unicorn18: YES! Monster Park! That game was my only source of joy in life! But now Foxgames took the servers down because of his new project! I even texted him, but he just ignored me. Do you think he blocked me?

Now that he mentions it—

I remember logging into Monster Park a while back.

I saw someone wandering around.

Could that have been Unicorn18?

It must have been.

Nobody else played that game.

Literally just one guy.

And that one guy was him.

Unicorn18 is one of the few people I actually treat with respect on our forum.

And he has the information I need most right now.

Even if it means dealing with Foxgames, winning over Unicorn18 is worth it.

SKELTON: I’ll talk to Foxgames.

I said it confidently.

But reality hit fast.

SKELTON: We need to talk.

My years of internet experience whispered in my ear—

Foxgames blocked me.

SKELTON: Foxgames, don’t tell me you blocked me?

No response.

But he’s clearly active.

Right this second, he’s posting on the forum.

Foxgames: "Bug report received! Thanks, everyone~"

Foxgames: "Next update? Still thinking! Keep sending ideas, I’ll add whatever makes sense!"

"...Hah."

100% blocked.

The guy who used to be just another nerd with a game server—

Now, he’s waving his little moderator badge around, soaking up praise.

Meanwhile, I, a mere user, have been cast aside.

So, what’s the best way to handle being ignored online?

The most rational approach is using mutual contacts.

...But I don’t have any.

The next option is contacting an admin.

I do have some sway with the forum’s moderation team.

So, I gave it a shot.

VIVA_BOT014: "If someone blocked you, that’s between you two to sort out. Why are you asking me? What is this, a middle school drama?"

...

As expected, VivaBot is useless.

That leaves only one option.

The oldest, most traditional internet solution:

Take it to the real world.

I know where Foxgames lives.

I know how to get in.

And most importantly—

I know for a fact he can’t take me in a fight.

“What? You’re going out? Fill the rice paddies before you leave.”

I handed the radio to Cheon Young-jae and told him what needed to be done.

“Ugh. So now that I’m here, you’re just using me for chores? What happened to ‘stay away from my bunker’?”

I ignored his whining and started getting ready.

But just before I left—

A new message arrived.

unicorn18: Did you talk to Foxgames yet?

SKELTON: Tried. He wouldn’t listen, so I was about to visit him in person.

unicorn18: No need! He just replied!

unicorn18: He’s giving me three more days. Said I should wrap up whatever I need.

"...Hah."

So, Foxgames didn’t block Unicorn.

That figures.

But three extra days—

Not bad.

I still hate that guy, but I have to admit—

It’s a fair solution.

A game with only one player is basically a charity case anyway.

I may not have gained Unicorn18’s favor, but at least things didn’t end badly.

Just as I was about to move on from this ridiculous situation—

Another message arrived.

unicorn18: Hey, while we’re at it, want to log into Monster Park?

unicorn18: There’s something I want to show you.

*

Monster Park.

Once, it was the only surviving online game in the apocalypse, attracting countless players.

Now, its shutdown has been decided.

A dying world.

All the graves that once filled this world have been cleared out, leaving nothing behind but us.

No one else remains in this text-based world.

Unicorn18: Here, take this.

[Unicorn18 has gifted you a nickname change token.]

Unicorn18: Change it to Skelton. Don’t use some weird name that’ll just confuse me.

In this soon-to-be dead game, my nickname wasn’t Skelton.

Because this account was just a throwaway.

One of the few remnants from the days when Foxgames and I got along.

Following Unicorn’s advice, I changed my nickname.

Immediately, he sent me a party invite.

But in Monster Park, forming a party was primitive at best.

The leader got complete control over the movements of the other player—dragging them wherever they pleased.

A relic from the early days of online gaming.

I accepted.

As Monster Park’s last player, Unicorn18 moved with inhuman speed, dragging me toward a specific location.

The screen flashed rapidly as countless lines of text whizzed by.

Then—

The scrolling stopped.

On my screen, a black background appeared.

White text began to slowly materialize.

A small, old castle stands before you.

A sign at the entrance reads: "Unicorn’s Castle."

...

I’ve heard of this.

Even Monster Park had a housing system.

A feature that let players build their own home in the digital world.

It was endgame content, something a low-level player like me never bothered with.

But as the last survivor of Monster Park, Unicorn18 had built an entire castle.

Then, his character spoke.

Unicorn18: This is my home.

SKELTON: Your personal housing?

Unicorn18: Yeah. It was a damn nightmare to build. Every spare moment I had, I spent working on this. And yet, Foxgames decided to shut everything down without even a heads-up. The logs clearly show I’m still active. He could’ve at least warned me.

Unicorn grumbled as he led me inside.

A castle, huh?

But it was still just text.

Its entire description amounted to a few sentences—most likely written by Unicorn himself.

Still, it was obvious he took pride in it.

Unicorn18: This is the entrance. It’s a long hallway—designed for siege defense. But no one ever attacked, so it just ended up being long for no reason.

Unicorn18: From here, the path splits into two.

Unicorn18: Do you want to see the guest lounge first? Or the garden I built?

His passion was obvious.

But my interest?

Dwindling.

At the end of the day, this was just text.

Text that couldn’t even look good.

I felt no attachment to Unicorn’s Castle.

Still, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

So, I overacted.

SKELTON: (Skelton, SHOCKED) W-Wow!

SKELTON: (Skelton, TREMBLING) T-This is unbelievable?!

SKELTON: (Skelton, TREMBIÉN) T-Trebién!

It was empty flattery.

And he saw through it.

Before long, Unicorn’s enthusiasm faded.

Unicorn18: ...You don’t like it?

A sudden, but honest question.

I hesitated.

Then, I decided—

Might as well be honest.

SKELTON: It’s not that I don’t like it—I just don’t get what’s so great about it.

I value truth.

So why would I lie to someone seeking truth from me?

Unicorn18: Figures. You never really played this game. You probably don’t even realize how impressive this is.

SKELTON: It’s definitely big and detailed.

Unicorn18: Not that it matters. In three days, it’ll be gone.

There’s no visual representation of Unicorn18.

In Monster Park, he’s just a block of text.

But at that moment—

I could see him.

Standing before me, looking over his masterpiece.

His fortress of memories.

His world.

Unicorn18: But I don’t regret making this.

SKELTON: You don’t?

Unicorn18: At first, it felt empty. Depressing, even. But eventually, I stopped caring. No other players meant I had all the resources to myself.

Unicorn18: No one could steal from me.

Unicorn18: And most importantly, I had fun building it.

...That, I understood.

For people like us—where time itself has become an unpayable debt—

Having something to focus on is the only thing keeping us alive.

Unicorn18: And I made a promise to myself.

Unicorn18: That when this castle was finished, I’d show it to a friend.

I smirked.

Tap, tap.

SKELTON: And that’s me?

Unicorn18: ...Honestly, I was hoping for someone else.

Unicorn18: But you were the last person to log in besides me.

SKELTON: So that invisible player I saw—

Unicorn18: That was me.

SKELTON: ...I see.

Unicorn18: Why did you log in back then? That was before Foxgames deleted all the graveyard data, right? There must’ve been tons of graves still around. Were you looking for someone?

Skelton: Not really. Nothing that dramatic. Just... curiosity, I guess? A passing thought?

Unicorn18: Either way, thanks for humoring me. I put a lot of effort into this place, and honestly, I was a little sad that there was no one to show it to.

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Unicorn18: Don’t you feel the same?

For a while, I didn’t respond.

Not because I didn’t know what to say, but because I was trying to figure out what Unicorn meant.

‘Don’t you feel the same?’

What exactly was he implying?

After a pause, I finally typed my response.

Skelton: What do you mean?

Unicorn18: I mean, you must have at least one or two things you’d want to show someone before you die.

Skelton: ...So that’s what you meant.

I see.

I can’t say I’ve never thought about it.

Humans have always had a desire to leave something behind.

You can see that just from the pyramids of Egypt or the dolmens of Korea.

As for me?

Skelton: I don’t know. I plan to be the last one alive, anyway.

Skelton: Instead of leaving something for people, I’d rather leave it for something that will replace people.

A rather unusual wish.

Unicorn18: Yeah. You really are different from others.

Skelton: ...How’s Jeju?

Before I even realized it, I’d asked the one question I actually wanted to ask.

Maybe it was because I’d been a little too honest just now.

I hesitated for a second, thinking, Ah, crap.

But once I’d pressed Enter, I figured—might as well go with it.

Unicorn18: Hmm. So-so?

His answer was bland.

Unicorn18: But at the very least, no one’s lost hope. Before summer ends, we’ll have an answer.

Skelton: ...That so?

Unicorn18: Though... there’s one thing I’m worried about.

Skelton: Worried?

Unicorn18: A Chinese scientist uploaded some research to PaleNet in secret. I don’t know the details, but it’s apparently crucial—not just for what’s left of the Chinese government, but for us too. It could determine our future.

Skelton: ...Then why post it on PaleNet?

Unicorn18: No idea. But one thing’s for sure—the Chinese survivors in Hainan are desperate to get their hands on it. They’ve been pressing us for it nonstop. I’m pretty sure they’ve even reached out to Kim Byeong-cheol.

...Come to think of it, I did hear something about the Chinese demanding access to PaleNet servers when I was in Seoul.

I knew it had to be important.

But this?

Unicorn18: You’re close with John Lennon, right? Any way you can dig up that PaleNet data?

Skelton: No. It’s impossible. The server is physically isolated in a radioactive zone.

Unicorn18: ...Hypothetically, if you could get that data—would you contact me?

Skelton: Hard to say. It’s not exactly easy.

Easy?

That’s not even the issue.

It’s impossible.

The area’s soaked in radiation. Even getting there is a death sentence.

And retrieving server data from that mess?

Not happening.

But then—

Unicorn made an offer that was hard to refuse.

Unicorn18: ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ There’s a place for you in Jeju.