Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 82.2: Finger Princess (2)

During Yeo Sa-yul’s prime, it might have been possible to avoid watching her movies, but escaping her advertisements was impossible.

TV, street billboards, subway screens, news portals, the internet—her face was everywhere.

Let’s skip over her career details. She started acting as a child, scored multiple mega-hits, and even won a few awards overseas.

I remember her name because she was particularly famous in China.

When I was deployed to China, I believe it was her heyday. Despite the chaos, her face often appeared on incomprehensible Chinese broadcasts.

After the war began, the fates of celebrities varied widely.

Some blended in with ordinary people, some clung to the elite and escaped to Jeju Island, while others met tragic ends.

Naturally, the forum speculated about Yeo Sa-yul’s whereabouts.

The prevailing theory was that she had gone to Jeju.

After a three-year absence, she reappeared—with a capsule.

Anonymous458: That’s a monster egg. A monster egg!

dongtanmom: Nom nom... Dangerous... nom...

CrunchRoll: Want me to come and take care of it? Just tell me the location.

Anonymous424: It’s a capsule. Similar to a monster egg.

Yeo Sa-yul’s post about the capsule attracted numerous comments.

Given her celebrity status, even the comments included notable names.

King commented.

That might have been the first time since the days of IAmJesus.

Well, someone like Yeo Sa-yul would certainly make a trophy worth bragging about.

While I’m indifferent to celebrities like her, capsules are my specialty.

I commented.

SKELTON: I don’t know where you are, but you should move before it’s too late. Unless you have people to call for help.

Still, how could someone like Yeo Sa-yul not know about capsules?

Early in the war, information about them wasn’t widespread, but since then, public education and awareness campaigns have made it common knowledge.

Even children know that capsules must be reported immediately upon discovery.

Of course, with the government effectively paralyzed now, reporting is less effective than running.

After all, there’s no one left to respond.

Even Reporter Guy, who used to diligently comment with a simple "?" on my posts, hasn’t been seen for a week since commenting on the snowman post.

This absence hints at how dire the situation in Incheon has become.

Meanwhile, our Finger Princess remains carefree.

To put it kindly, she’s innocent—or perhaps just clueless.

Anonymous1311: Oh? Is this dangerous? Okay, I’ll call the guys, then.

M spoke for all of us:

mmmmmmmmm: What "guys"?!

Surprisingly, those "guys" came through.

Anonymous1311 posted another photo.

The capsule was gone, removed or collected by someone.

Anonymous: It’s not Incheon.

A PaleNet user pointed this out sharply.

Anonymous: The government’s packing up and running away.

Anonymous: The internet’s been acting weird, too.

It’s unlikely this took place in the countryside. Rural areas collapsed rapidly starting last autumn.

Any significant forces, like hunters capable of fighting large monsters, had already been relocated to the metropolitan area.

The remaining soldiers became warlords.

That leaves only one answer:

As suspected early in the war, Anonymous1311 and Yeo Sa-yul are in Jeju.

They’re likely among the purest Jeju-based Viva! Apocalypse! users to date.

When Viva! Apocalypse! launched in Korea, there were, of course, users from Jeju Island.

Evidence of those early "citrus" users still exists.

But when the war began, they disappeared as if erased.

Some speculate it was due to communication interference, others believe they died in Chinese nuclear strikes, but I think the government forcibly seized their equipment.

Looking at photos of Jeju from Yang Sang-gil’s son, the island had been transformed into a battlefield.

The extensive modifications to the landscape leave no doubt about the fate of the original residents.

They were likely driven from their homes and sent to "refugee camps," which were essentially detention centers.

There might even have been massacres—not active, Nazi-style extermination, but the passive kind seen in Seoul and Incheon, where neglect and false hope did the job.

Unicorn18 is definitely in Jeju, but they’re not ordinary.

They’re either Kang Han-min or Na Hye-in—saviors of Korea.

They’re in a league of their own.

While people are excited about Anonymous1311’s identity, I’m more intrigued by their location.

Still, this person is the epitome of a Ping-Pru.

*

Anonymous1311: How do I send messages?

Anonymous1311: Okay~ And what should I say in a reply? Do I just click "reply"?

Anonymous1311: How do I block someone? There’s this guy, CrunchKing or Roll or whatever, who keeps following me and saying I’d look good in a mascot costume. What’s that supposed to mean?

Anonymous1311: About Live! Apocalypse!—how do I leave?

Before Anonymous1311 revealed her identity, these questions were just one of many annoying posts lost in the shuffle.

But now that she had everyone’s attention, it seemed like she was doubling down, firing off question after question.

It wouldn’t be wrong to say she’d gone from Finger Princess to Finger Queen.

As shown above, her numerous posts were entirely made up of questions.

She didn’t express opinions, evaluations, or reflections about others—just question after question.

Not all her questions were bad, though.

Anonymous1311: Dongtanmom? What’s her deal? Why’s she so negative? She’s weird. Seriously.

Her behavior—what you might call classic Ping-Pru antics—wasn’t well-received on the forum.

If anything, it was the type of behavior that invited disdain.

Expecting others to provide answers for things you could easily figure out with a little effort isn’t the normal way of doing things.

While our forum users could be starstruck by a woman, they were still level-headed and strict about the community rules.

As a result, her questions gradually stopped receiving replies.

She brought it on herself.

What people were genuinely curious about were her current situation and the story of her life so far. But instead of sharing that, she kept posting meaningless, irritating questions.

Anonymous1311: Why won’t anyone reply again? 😭

When she whined about being ignored, it was surprising, but no one responded.

I thought at least a couple of PaleNet users might take pity on her and comment, but even they stayed silent.

It seemed even PaleNet regulars like Reporter Guy had disappeared, likely because of the worsening situation in Incheon.

While being ignored by everyone, Anonymous1311 suddenly messaged me.

Message from Anonymous1311: SKELTON!

"..."

At least she has good taste in people.

SKELTON: ?

I replied briefly and coolly, keeping up the aura of a reclusive master.

Message from Anonymous1311: Are you that SKELTON?

SKELTON: What do you mean?

Message from Anonymous1311: You know, the SKELTON from Filkrum’s comics on the intranet.

SKELTON: Intranet? What’s that?

She explained that the intranet was a closed internet network exclusive to Jeju Island.

Apparently, despite its limited user base, it offered entertainment through content created by figures like Filkrum and celebrities like Yeo Sa-yul.

I’d had no idea Jeju had such a thing.

But more surprising was the mention of Filkrum.

He was alive.

I’d thought he was dead. His absence must’ve been due to losing his satellite equipment.

Message from Anonymous1311: There’s this SKELTON character in Filkrum’s comic who’s super cool. He’s a great fighter, a monster slayer, and kindhearted too.

SKELTON: Really?

Before Filkrum left, he’d told me he wanted to write a story about me someday.

Message from Anonymous1311: The comic’s called The Remnants, I think. Haven’t you heard of it? It’s really popular. It shows the other side of the world we don’t see. They’re even making it into a drama. I want to star in it.

"..."

I’d once considered killing Filkrum.

To be honest, it was fifty-fifty.

If my conscience had tipped even slightly, he and his family would’ve been dead by my hands.

Now, I’m glad I spared him.

Not just because he wrote a comic about me, but because he’s bringing joy and inspiration to people like Yeo Sa-yul with his talent.

It fills a small, warm corner of my heart.

Message from Anonymous1311: Oh, so you’re not that SKELTON? Just a coincidence?

SKELTON: Yep.

I have no desire to be a hero. Let fiction remain fiction.

Message from Anonymous1311: Oh, I got excited for nothing. I thought you were that SKELTON.

I decided to offer some guidance as a seasoned internet veteran.

SKELTON: You said you were worried about not getting comments, right?

Message from Anonymous1311: Yeah. Why won’t anyone reply? They know who I am.

SKELTON: Why not try sharing stories people want to hear?

Message from Anonymous1311: Stories people want to hear? Like what?

SKELTON: You’d know better than me.

When Jang Ki-young gave me the callsign "Professor," I felt it was too grand, too incompatible with my nature.

But lately, I’ve been rethinking that.

Maybe, just maybe, I, Park Gyu, have a knack for teaching.

Anonymous1311 posted a thread titled My Story (1).

Her story wasn’t dramatic or moving like the heroines she portrayed on screen.

It was dull, full of episodes that highlighted the stark gap in privilege and status between her and the rest of us.

Anonymous1311: I got a notice at the office telling me to go to Jeju immediately. I asked why, and they said there was going to be a war. What war? TV programs were still airing normally, and the rest of the broadcasting schedule was proceeding as planned. But my manager insisted, so I had no choice but to go.

She was one of the few people, like me, who knew about the war in advance.

The rest of her story was about a long exile.

She was hired by the government to make movies and dramas for the people of Jeju, comfort soldiers and wounded near the rifts, and attend events as a figurehead.

She never went hungry, never shivered in the cold.

She slept under a thin blanket with hot water always available, drank coffee whenever she wanted, and ate whatever she liked.

Her life changed not because of external conditions but because of a loss of popularity.

Anonymous1311: No one in Jeju is surprised to see me anymore. They treat me like just another neighborhood auntie. That’s how they see me now.

Th𝗲 most uptodate novels are published on ƒгeewёbnovel.com.

She attached a selfie of her frowning face.

It was still stunning, a face that could captivate and inspire.

A true actress, through and through.

The thread received numerous comments.

Berkut_break: You’re still beautiful!

Anonymous424: Stay strong!

Tntn_Orthopedics: So that’s the privilege of top-tier celebrities.

dongtanmom: Nom nom... Heavy makeup today. But who’s this "fan"? Some kind of sugar daddy? Nom nom...

I didn’t comment.

It might seem strange that I, who exchanged the most messages with her, didn’t respond.

But I had no desire to.

Her complaints didn’t resonate with me.

Maybe it’s because I’m not an actor, but it all sounded like spoiled whining.

Not long ago, I witnessed the end of a celebrity who didn’t have a "fan."

The contrast between Yeo Sa-yul’s concerned frown and Hwang Dae-seop’s snow-covered face was stark.

Among all the comments, Unicorn18’s stood out:

Unicorn18: This seems dangerous.

Time passed, and spring began to arrive.

Who would’ve thought the terrible cold snap had been a blessing in disguise?

Now, ordinary people without "fans" can’t even communicate.

PaleNet has stopped working again.

More accurately, it’s still functioning, but only those with satellite equipment can access it.

Ballantine: It’s over. The government has terminated its network operations. Even if PaleNet is running, there’s no way for users to connect anymore.

On the day PaleNet stopped, Anonymous1311 posted a final message.

Anonymous1311: I’m starting over. I’ve found my roots again. Thank you all. Love you.

After that, she disappeared from the forum.

A new user, Anonymous1732, left an odd comment on her last post:

Anonymous1732: She’s probably been moved from a Class 1 to a Class 3 zone. From first-class accommodations to a crammed dorm room.

What a trivial matter.

The fate of a single person doesn’t concern me.

Click!

I checked my gun and stepped out of the bunker.

The snow-covered landscape was beginning to melt, revealing the colors of the ground beneath.

Gunfire and explosions echoed in the distance.

Still no word from Woo Min-hee.