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Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 84: Interrogation
For us old-school hunters, composure is a cardinal virtue.
Even when a comrade dies right beside you, or you take a blow so staggering it leaves your mind reeling, maintaining unwavering judgment, as though nothing has happened, is the foremost quality demanded of us.
In that regard, my skills rank at the top. My battlefield accomplishments and academic records testify to this with numbers and data.
Woo Min-hee caught the scent.
Judging from my usual, unwaveringly objective reasoning, brushing it off like I used to won’t work this time.
Denying everything despite the clear circumstantial evidence would be a rookie mistake. Some damage control is necessary.
The question now is, how much damage am I willing to sustain? This requires careful deliberation.
Bzzt.
Everyone knows that regardless of her personality, Woo Min-hee is a talented hunter.
And true to form, she doesn’t leave room for hesitation.
Ignoring her call would be the worst decision I could make. It would practically confirm that she might come to kill me.
I cleared my throat lightly and pressed the receive button on the K-Walkie-Talkie.
“Hey, Min-hee. What’s up?”
No need to be overly dramatic or excessively flattering.
“Oh, senior~.”
Let’s create an imagined version of Woo Min-hee here.
In a situation as critical as this, simply hearing her voice isn’t enough for an effective response.
It’s better to assume there’s a perfect replica of Woo Min-hee standing right in front of me and strategize based on that vision.
Woo Min-hee is about thirty years old and has a scar on her face. She’s tall, with long limbs, a strikingly Western body type, and overall, a strikingly beautiful face.
Her outfits vary, but she prefers clothing that covers her entire body, topped off with a white lab coat, as befitting a research director.
Though she now uses a prosthetic arm and leg, I’ll omit those details—I knew her before she lost those parts of herself.
I summoned the image of Woo Min-hee before me.
In my mind’s eye, she’s smiling triumphantly, as though she knows everything. A victor’s smug expression.
Yet, my face remains perfectly calm.
“....”
This is what it means to be an old-school hunter.
“Senior, are you hiding something from me?”
“Hiding something?”
“Yup~.”
“Ah, right.”
A brief pause.
“Well, I do use the internet.”
The confession spills out.
“Oh my, finally admitting it, huh? I’ve asked you so many times, and you always denied it.”
“...Sorry.”
“What’s there to apologize for~?”
The imagined Woo Min-hee’s eyes glinted with a peculiar madness.
And so it begins.
“Start from the beginning. When did you start using the internet, and what have you been doing there?”
Explain everything about the matter, from A to Z.
Though I’ve never committed a crime or been summoned by prosecutors, I’ve heard this is a common question posed to shady criminals by investigative agencies like the police or prosecution.
The point is to exploit the tendency of lies to unravel somewhere, an absolutely classic interrogation tactic.
The best approach here is to respond with reality-based answers rather than lies.
After all, I’ve conducted myself well online—so well, in fact, that when someone like Rocagigi took aim at me, there were still those who defended me.
With that confidence, I laid out my online history to Woo Min-hee.
“Before the war, I joined Viva! Apocalypse!...”
This isn’t a tale of Professor Park Gyu but of my other identity, Skelton.
Skelton—slightly eccentric, playful, but deeply serious when it mattered. Everyone’s cheerful friend, Skelton.
Calmly and candidly, I narrated Skelton’s online life to Woo Min-hee.
But within this honesty, there’s a line that must not be crossed.
That line is Um Chang.
Even if she’s figured out I use the internet, it’s absolutely unacceptable for her to find out that I’m Um Chang.
Updat𝒆d fr𝑜m freewebnøvel.com.
After all, Woo Min-hee’s obsession with me started with the incident involving Um Chang’s post receiving ten thousand comments on Failnet.
“Ah, so you’re Skelton.”
The imagined Woo Min-hee smirked.
“To be honest, I had my suspicions. There aren’t that many old-school hunters like you that Je Pung-ho would mention. Kim Daram wouldn’t go, Hong Seong-soon is in China, and Park Jung-hoon went silent in a nuclear fallout zone. Narrowing it down left only you.”
So, it’s because of the Je Pung-ho story.
I had no choice back then. The war had only recently begun, and I hadn’t anticipated any juniors or peers from the forums being present.
“So, you’re Skelton...”
Woo Min-hee, arms crossed, chuckled faintly in my imagination.
“Honestly, I didn’t believe it at first.”
“Why?”
“Well, as much as Skelton seemed like you, it was hard to reconcile. I mean, think about it. The cold, almost inhuman senior I know being the same as that humorless oddball Skelton? It just didn’t sit right.”
“Skelton comes across as that strange?”
“Come on, you know the type. Completely unfunny but still desperate for attention.”
Woo Min-hee.
As expected, you’re formidable.
She delivered a verbal blow to me, Park Gyu.
If this were a martial arts world, that blunt truth would have torn through my insides, leaving me coughing blood.
“Anyway, you being Skelton—it’s hilarious. The world’s gone mad, hasn’t it?”
“Weren’t you 99% sure?”
“I was only fifty-fifty. But then, when you stubbornly ignored every single hook and question mark I left in your posts, I was 99% sure. Only someone as determined as you could be Professor.”
“...”
I hadn’t thought about that connection.
To tie my stubbornness to my identity... Did I really have such a trait? Now that I think about it, I can’t say I didn’t.
“Well, anyway, let’s get to the serious stuff.”
The imagined Woo Min-hee’s hand turned into a hooked prosthetic.
The blade-like fingers flexed open and closed, as though they had a will of their own.
“Um Chang.”
Now we’ve arrived at the crux of the matter.
I need to keep my focus sharp.
I am not Um Chang.
I reinforced this self-suggestion while waiting for Woo Min-hee’s next words.
“Are you Um Chang, senior?”
“Me?”
“Is it not you?”
How should I answer?
Two options immediately come to mind: responding with a question, which would be a classic blunder, or a flat denial.
The time limit? One second.
Even hesitating for one second would raise her suspicion.
Instinctively, my hand brushed the handle of the axe at my waist as I replied.
“I’m not Um Chang.”
“You’re not?”
The imagined Woo Min-hee tilted her head with a ghastly smile.
This is the tipping point.
I stared directly at the imagined Woo Min-hee, my hand still resting on the axe, and replied calmly.
“How could I possibly come up with something as creative as that?”
If every battle and every situation is like a story, then there’s always a flow.
Some choices disrupt the flow; others align with it.
My response followed the flow of Woo Min-hee’s belief that Skelton was incapable of such creativity.
“Hmmm.”
The explosive tension dissipated as the imagined Woo Min-hee crossed her arms.
“Well, yeah. That boring, unimaginative Skelton wouldn’t come up with something like that.”
“...”
“I really thought Um Chang was you, though. They sounded so much like the people I’ve dealt with before.”
“I saw them on Failnet too. Sorry, but I even laughed at some of their posts.”
“Then why ‘Um Chang’?”
“?”
The imagined Woo Min-hee, who had briefly softened, sharpened her tone again.
“If you were going to pull a stunt, there were so many names to choose from. Why pick something so similar to ‘Um Chang’?”
“Well...”
I hadn’t considered that.
It just... fit. It rolled off the tongue.
“Are you Um Chang, senior?”
“?”
“You are, aren’t you? Why do you keep lying?”
“I’m not Um Chang.”
“Oh, come on, Um Chang~.”
"In the name of Park Gyu, I’m telling you, I am not Um Chang. Please, believe me."
“Our dear Um Chang~ Should I do a home visit, then?”
“....”
The situation was spiraling out of control.
Woo Min-hee’s relentless pressure had shattered my tempo.
How did she even reach the conclusion that I’m Um Chang?
That kind of unhinged leap in logic is exactly her style.
And yet—
“Why did you write that post?”
The flow shifted abruptly.
The predatory intensity that had consumed her moments ago melted into something more amicable.
“Doctor Um Chang’s post seemed like it had a purpose behind it.”
“Oh, that? Yeah.”
I told her the truth.
About how King’s subordinates had appeared at the U.S. military base and the elaborate scheme I orchestrated to drive them out.
“Wow, senior. That’s smart—using the forum to chase off a gang. And it actually worked.”
“You were out of contact back then, and I was on my own. I had to come up with something.”
“So, what did King say about it?”
I showed her the message King had sent me, carefully omitting the cursed photo of him in a mascot costume.
“You’ve gained King’s favor.”
“What kind of guy is King?”
“There’s a rumor he’s an Awakened. Originally, there was another gang leader controlling Sejong City—he was Awakened too. Then he vanished, and King took over.
Judging by the lack of internal conflict, King must have abilities similar to the former leader.”
“An Awakened gang leader...”
“I had something else in mind, but this works out better.”
Min-hee smiled.
“Could you check out King’s territory?”
“What?”
“It’s a brutal area, but you’ve got some rapport with King. Better than heading to the frontlines, right, Doctor Um Chang?”
“I told you, I’m not Um Chang.”
“I’m in Paju right now.”
“Paju?”
The moment she mentioned Paju, Min-hee’s image dissipated.
And with it, I became keenly aware of the darkness around me—the cold, damp, and silent solitude of my bunker.
From that oppressive shadow, Min-hee’s voice echoed again.
“I’m holding back the eruption.”
“....”
A fact I’d temporarily forgotten seized my consciousness.
That’s right.
My true enemy isn’t Min-hee, or even the gangs.
The enemy I must destroy—the one I have to annihilate—is the monsters.
“Is that why you avoided the bombardment?”
“It’s probably Kim Daram’s doing. That guy couldn’t care less about me when things were going well for him. Now that I’ve surpassed him, he sees me as a thorn in his side.”
“What about the others? My apprentice?”
“That one? They’re lucky.”
They were alive. My apprentice.
I didn’t think they’d die, but still, the relief washed over me.
Even as I let out a quiet sigh of relief, a lingering unease prickled at me. I spoke into the radio.
“How bad is the eruption?”
“It’s not catastrophic yet. Not yet. But there’s a tremor... the kind that feels like it could swallow the rest of this land whole.”
“...The March of the End.”
“Probably. It could be that scale.”
China’s ultimate collapse was, after all, caused by the monsters.
From beyond the rifts, an incalculable number of monsters poured out over the span of a week—or perhaps even longer.
No one knows the exact duration, as all the observation equipment and living witnesses in the area were obliterated.
The monsters that emerged weren’t quantified by numbers but described with words: unprecedented, immeasurable.
The Chinese people, paralyzed with fear by the endless procession of monsters, called it the March of the End.
The war began only after witnessing that despair.
If the same thing were to happen here, the outcome would be just as inevitable.
We wouldn’t survive.
“There’s a Level 10 Awakened in Sejong. They used to work at one of our facilities but left Gukwiwon for some reason and went to Sejong. If they join us, it’ll be a tremendous help—enough to delay the impending doom, at least a little.”
“Someone I’d know?”
“No, I don’t think so. They’re still young.”
“I don’t think I can convince them to join us.”
“You don’t need to convince them. Just deliver the message. If they don’t act after hearing it, then that’s on them.”
“....”
Maybe I’d been overestimating the threat of being exposed as Um Chang.
It seemed like Min-hee’s real purpose wasn’t to confirm whether I was Um Chang, but to get me to do something.
And judging by the state of the frontlines, the situation is dire.
The uprising in Incheon and the attacks on the government pale in comparison.
“So, what’s it going to be, senior?”
The image of Min-hee from the past resurfaced in my mind—smiling brightly, scarless, the cheerful girl who had stood out among my juniors.
I quietly answered, looking at the version of her I remembered.
“Alright. Since it’s a request from a junior.”
It’s just a feeling.
It’s dangerous. I could lose my life.
But my junior’s life is on the line too.
“Don’t expect me to bring back the Awakened, though.”
“If it’s you, I think you can.”
“I’m not great with kids.”
“Senior, you’re Um Chang, aren’t you?”
“I’m not Um Chang.”
“They adore Um Chang. They’ve been singing about wanting to meet him.”
Could that really be the reason they were so desperate to find Um Chang?
Probably not.
Either way, I made the promise.
I’ll head to Sejong.
I’ll go to Sejong and find that Awakened.
Our conversation seemed to be drawing to a close.
As I was preparing to end the transmission, Min-hee asked abruptly:
“Senior, you seem lonely these days.”
“Me?”
“That post of yours, the Doctor Um Chang one.”
“Yeah?”
“Edmond K. Park, the strange dubbing... it felt like you were screaming. Like you wanted someone to notice you.”
“Do I seem like I’m screaming?”
“It felt like you were crying out for attention.”
“Really?”
“You’re practically singing about wanting to get caught.”
“....”
“I’ll send you the profile and the message to deliver. You’ll use the Skelton account, right?”
“Yeah.”
That was the last exchange of the day.
And so, the greatest crisis of Park Gyu’s life ended in an unexpectedly subdued fashion.
A partial victory, perhaps.
Not long after, a message arrived.
From: gijayangban (Attachment)
I opened the attached file.
“...Damn.”
This won’t be easy.
But—
From: gijayangban (?)
The familiar symbol in the follow-up message oddly put me at ease.
Staring into the now-empty darkness of the bunker, where the imagined Min-hee had been, I muttered quietly:
“Crying out to be caught...”
Maybe she’s right.
In this dwindling world, where the people I know are disappearing one by one, it’s not such an unreasonable thing.
The faint smile spreading across my face confirms it.