Hiding a House in the Apocalypse

Chapter 258.3: Artificial Intelligence (3)

Translate to

Gong Gyeong-min was still staring at the monitor.

Unfortunately, it seemed I hadn’t been instantiated as a character in that virtual reality.

I could chat, I could move, but that was all.

In the virtual world, I was a kind of ghost.

Even when I shifted the perspective with the mouse and keyboard to block Gong Gyeong-min’s view, he showed no reaction—so that confirmed it.

I checked my current status.

< User Status >

SKELTON (alt account)

As expected, it was an unapproved alt account.

To become a resident of the virtual reality like Gong Gyeong-min, it looked like operator approval was required.

When I got closer, I realized.

He was basically on something like the internet.

If he were using a computer, he could access it all he wanted without going to this trouble.

Curious, I looked at the monitor.

It was the same message board I had glimpsed earlier.

It looked like a domestic board, different from Viva! Apocalypse!.

The design and user interface were different from Viva! Apocalypse!, but a community board is essentially the same.

It was a space of online communication where all kinds of users tossed out thoughts, shitposts, and sometimes something with a bit of substance.

But in this world now, could any community still be alive?

Even the English board of Viva! Apocalypse! was teetering on the brink.

Even SkeletonNet, the one I made myself, barely had five users.

Thinking that, I watched what Gong Gyeong-min was doing.

Click—

He refreshed the page.

Would that mean anything?

It did.

Every time he refreshed, new posts flooded the screen.

I looked at the content.

Mesinaldo: Why are big soccer wins always 5 goals? (5)

Cupcake: Cheerleader Jeong Soo-hee’s legendary era body (ass ridiculously big).jpg (1)

Basel: Human trash wake-up call! (24)

MonsterPink: U.S. stock returns today (2)

Blueun: The part-timer at the convenience store near my house is pretty (19)

Anon: Human trash wake-up call!

TrumpWorld: Pebble-shaped boobs VS bullet-shaped boobs (13)

Pianisto: Nice that no one does cringe here

Anon: Ever see this type of personality around you? (3)

...

It was the image of a community that might have existed somewhere before the war.

Click—

Gong Gyeong-min refreshed again.

New posts flooded the screen, similar to before.

Each post looked like something ripped straight from the pre-war or golden-age Korean boards of Viva! Apocalypse!.

I clicked on one.

Cupcake: Cheerleader Jeong Soo-hee’s legendary era body (ass ridiculously big).jpg

A straightforward title, a straightforward post.

Nothing to criticize about it.

But—

“......”

I had once created AI images myself.

Back when Viva! Apocalypse! had that feature, I generated some with it.

The woman in the post—Jeong Soo-hee, someone I didn’t know—was indeed a young, beautiful cheerleader with a large ass, just like the title said. But if you looked closely, something felt off.

Right—those oddly converging curves around the hair, the background that didn’t quite match, and the unnatural fingers that looked like five or six depending on the angle.

It was an AI image.

So refined that unless you examined it closely, you wouldn’t notice.

I clicked on other posts.

Each one had images attached.

Some looked like composites, others like originals.

The important thing was the sheer number of posts.

Even now, dozens to hundreds of posts were constantly pouring in.

Before the war, it would have been a sight to scroll past without suspicion—but now? In humanity’s twilight, on the brink of extinction?

Where could there be so many people actively posting?

Infrastructure was one thing, but there weren’t even that many people alive and comfortable enough to make posts.

That was it.

These posts weren’t made by humans.

The entire board itself was AI-generated—a massive stage play.

What Gong Gyeong-min was staring at was nothing more than a variation on the echoes of humanity’s chatter, recreated by AI.

But to him, that didn’t seem to matter.

“Heh, hehehe...”

Gong Gyeong-min laughed.

That confirmed it.

In this narrow room where nothing real existed, only fakes, my old comrade had made his refuge.

How was I supposed to drag him out of here?

“Hunter Park!”

I felt a small hand shake me.

I pulled off the machine immediately.

Mark Two was pointing urgently toward a corner of the space.

“Over there.”

I followed her finger.

“......”

Human-sized.

Something grayish-white stood there.

I didn’t know when it appeared.

It hadn’t been there before.

Had it just been generated?

Unlike the known extinct types, it was roughly human-shaped—but in every way blunt and unfinished, like something not yet complete.

How was I supposed to interpret this?

While I pondered, part of the monster’s four massive arms shuddered lightly as it watched us.

The next moment, we saw it.

The unfinished white lump had suddenly become the perfect image of a human being.

A soldier with glasses.

A face I didn’t know.

The soldier glared at us silently, as if alive.

Mark Two ducked behind me and asked in a trembling voice:

“Hunter, is that... a person?”

“No.”

It was something shaped like a human.

But not a monster either.

Not an independent monster—because it lacked whatever it is that lets my Flame of Hatred smell them out.

An unfinished thing.

That was how I’d define it for now.

Sure enough, it soon shifted back into a gray-white lump of unformed matter.

“If that thing moves again, call me back.”

I put the VR machine back on.

The white, empty room once again filled my vision.

Gong Gyeong-min was still smiling blankly, staring only at the board. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

I went up to him, but he didn’t notice me.

Even when I waved my hand in front of him, nothing.

Then how about this—

“......”

Tap-taptaptaptaptaptap—

SKELTON: Gong Gyeong-min, snap out of it!

Sangkkoms: Doesn’t this board feel weird lately? (2)

SKELTON: Gong Gyeong-min, snap out of it!

blda: Watch out for titles with exclamation marks (1)

SKELTON: Gong Gyeong-min, snap out of it!

...

I’d been away from message boards for a long time, but I still had the mythic spamming ability to post dozens of lines per second.

Different keyboard, different board—it didn’t matter.

And since this was an AI playground, there was no anti-spam filter.

In that case—

Tap-taptaptaptap!

SKELTON (Living Legend): Gong Gyeong-min, snap out of it!

...

I would out-spam even a virtual AI.

“Park Gyu...?”

So sincerity can move heaven? Or maybe my mythic spam finally provoked a response.

Either way, Gong Gyeong-min finally noticed me and turned.

At once, he summoned a black console in midair and began operating it.

“Of course. You really did connect.”

As he typed something, an avatar was assigned to my ghost account.

It was the same as before—an unremarkable default game character.

“How did you get here?”

He turned his chair toward me.

I couldn’t read the avatar’s face, but his voice carried surprise.

“How else? I physically intruded.”

“Physically? Impossible. This bunker is for military command use. There can’t be a gap...”

“You turned the whole bunker into a game room. That’s the price.”

“...What did you come here for?”

His voice was heavy.

I looked at him and said coldly:

“To pull you out. From this hell.”

“Hell?”

“If a world of nothing but fakes isn’t hell, then what is?”

“And the outside isn’t hell?”

“Maybe it is. But better than this sealed tomb with no future or possibility.”

I turned, preparing to log out.

I had no desire to speak at length.

He wasn’t someone who could be persuaded by words.

I delivered the one line I’d prepared since coming here.

“I’m going to kill Kang Han-min.”

“...Kang Han-min? You...?!”

“If you’re interested, come out of this hole.”

“Park Gyu.”

Gong Gyeong-min stood.

“Do you know what’s beyond that door?”

I looked at the closed door.

I couldn’t know what lay past it.

Most likely, the world of some Chinese-made VR game on which his illusion was based.

He walked over and flung it open.

“......”

On the other side was a woman.

Dressed in white, with long hair.

Pretty, maybe, but her face was blurred by a mist-like haze, impossible to identify as any real person.

Gong Gyeong-min glared at her.

“Our enemy has sadistic tastes far worse than we imagine.”

He approached the woman.

And the moment he did—

Crunch!

She popped like a balloon. Flesh, blood, and brain matter splattered onto Gong Gyeong-min’s avatar as if real.

Wiping an eyeball from his mouth, he looked back at me.

“They can even fabricate nightmares now.”

He looked back through the open door.

A dreamlike Chinese-inspired world.

But soon that world was filled with countless «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» women in white, long black hair flowing.

I nodded.

Now I understood.

Why my comrade locked himself in this narrow room, even when illusions were available.

“Nightmares are only nightmares.”

I pulled off the helmet.

And looked at the monster.

More precisely, at the white lump at its feet.

I nodded.

“So that’s it.”

At the monster’s feet was Gong Gyeong-min’s nightmare.

The woman in white, with long hair.

It was the monster’s creation.

The black-eyed monster, like a dull camera lens, had peered into our subconscious, dredged up what we feared most, and forced us to see it.

Shrrng—

I lifted my axe.

I would end my comrade’s nightmare.

I had other weapons, but now I wanted only the axe.

Slowly, feeling the alien sensation and mechanical pulse of the exoskeleton, I walked toward the monster.

The mountain-high creature loomed above.

The constantly shifting white lump blocked my path.

I sneered.

Looking up at the monster, I asked:

“You.”

“Can you see me?”

Apparently, it could.

The figure before me was none other than my real older sister.

The one who died in my place.

On that day, when we lost our family—if I hadn’t snapped and refused to switch seats, the truck the monster hurled would have crushed me, not her.

I had tormented myself countless times over that day.

And now her form stood barring me.

But—

“......”

For me, the past is nothing but a log file.

Or perhaps it already burned long ago, fueling my Flame of Hatred.

I walked right through. As expected, it was nothing but a phantom.

The moment I passed through, I pressed the red button on my extended harness.

Shhhk!

Spring-loaded boosters launched me skyward.

In an instant, I was eye-level with its black eyes.

I triggered the second device I had prepared.

Thunk!

Point-blank catapult.

The strongest strike I could deliver with an axe.

The hydraulic spring strike, far beyond human strength, drove my axe into its black eye and deep into its skull.

Boom!

Only then did it thrash, shockwaves radiating.

Crack!

But the execution had already begun.

It staggered, flailing its four arms to seize me—

Crack! Crack!

Each time my axe smashed into it, limbs broke, shattered, fell away. In the end, nothing remained but a battered pile of wreckage, unrecognizable.

“...Haaah.”

Catching my breath, I watched as the monster dissolved into particles of light.

At its feet, the white creation remained.

It stood there, staring at me.

Countless forms flickered across its surface until finally, it took the shape of a man—then vanished with the light.

“Hunter Park!”

Mark Two came over with John Nae-non III.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Hunter, you really... you’re amazing. Seriously. Just like Commander Woo said—you fight incredibly!”

I’d never seen her so talkative.

I smiled faintly and turned my gaze to the iron coffin.

Sleeping Beauty was waking.

“Can you stand?”

“Urgh...”

I pulled Gong Gyeong-min up.

Still pale, breathing hard, he looked at Mark Two and John Nae-non III.

“A dog? And that kid?”

“She’s Woo Min-hee’s child. The dog, I just picked up.”

For a while, he stared at Mark Two, deep in thought.

“What’s her story?”

“I’m protecting her on Min-hee’s behalf.”

“...You?”

He tilted his head, staring at her.

Fluster showed on her face—when he mischievously asked:

“Hey, kid.”

“Call me Mark Two.”

“Has this guy treated you well?”

Without a second’s hesitation, she answered firmly:

“The best!”

She even raised both thumbs.

No doubt her glowing evaluation was largely influenced by watching my fight just now.

Still, he seemed pleased by the lively reply.

“Right. I see.”

For whatever reason, a faint smile tugged at his lips.

“That professor...”

As I frowned in confusion, he forced himself upright, still glancing at the fading particles of the monster.

“What was that thing? I’ve never seen one.”

“A new type.”

“A new... type?”

“Yeah. The one that trapped you in that room and killed your comrades.”

“What kind?”

At his question, I told him the name I’d just given it.

“Nightmare Type.”

That was the monster’s name.

It stared at us with bizarre eyes, dredged up what we feared most, trying to break our minds.

Interesting—but personally, I didn’t see it as that great a threat.

The human mind is surprisingly resilient.

“No wonder. I kept seeing such fucked-up things.”

The smirk on Gong Gyeong-min’s face, his rapid recovery of composure, proved it.

Still, this wasn’t something to dismiss lightly.

The sealed voices in my head whispered:

This was only the beginning.

The last form that lump took had been none other than Kang Han-min.

Until the moment of collapse, it had been learning, systematizing, shaping my ultimate fear.

That was when the concept hit me:

Artificial Intelligence.

It all began with attempts to model human thought.

Those thought experiments hit logical walls, but humanity broke through by making machines learn humans directly, forming their own systems of thought.

So the monster we saw wasn’t an end result.

It was learning.

That must have been the Rift’s purpose in creating it.

And the result of that learning? Unknown.

But one thing was certain: Kang Han-min had to die before that result appeared.

I asked my comrade again:

“Will you help me?”

He thought for a moment, then smirked.

“Too late. Should’ve killed him three years ago.”

Silently, I raised my fist.

Our fists met in midair.

The Steel Alliance was reborn.