Chapter 49

34. Housewarming

I prepared the wild boar that Gold had brought.

I removed the entrails and drained the blood, then stored it in the freezer. Besides this, there was another wild boar, two roe deer, and two chickens.

I would eat the chickens, but the roe deer weren't really suitable for serving to guests, so I decided to butcher the sow.

This was my first time butchering meat.

I watched a slaughter video and tried to mimic it.

The skin didn't come off as easily as I had hoped, but with steady and persistent effort, the wild boar soon looked like the cuts of meat you'd see in a butcher shop.

I sniffed it.

It didn't have a particularly appealing smell.

There was a hint of urine.

They say the ribs of a wild boar are the most edible part.

I divided the ribs into three large pieces.

One for the Defender siblings, one for the sniper mother and daughter, and the last one for me.

I had a similar experience in China.

One of my teammates captured an escaped domestic pig while we were in China, and we skillfully butchered it with a Chinese person and had a pork party.

At the time, it seemed like there was still hope in China.

Despite the northern regions being overrun, massive supplies were being delivered from the rear, and the front lines were densely packed with manpower.

I heard that a thousand new hunters were replenished every month.

In just a short time, they managed to produce a thousand hunters that we could barely produce in a year.

Honestly, their training level wasn't very high, but it wasn't a big problem.

Even as newbies, they had basic training and quickly became veterans in the life-and-death battles.

In fact, they drove away a group of monsters that had taken over a major city and purified the overrun areas.

It was probably the greatest victory humanity had ever achieved against the monsters.

The Chinese people were excited, shouting that humanity, which had overcome nature, would also overcome the monsters, and that China would lead the way.

But the collapse couldn't be stopped.

I saw it beyond the rift.

The despair named "Infinite."

*

The Pioneer is now a part of life.

When I turn on the radio, I hear the transmissions of Pioneers from all over.

Cries for help, silly jokes, gossip about others, and odes to the good old days.

I don't know what happened to the Pioneers stationed in the north, but there's no need to know.

Other Pioneers have already passed through the road they were stationed on and moved south.

One thing that worries me is that most of them know about the sniper mother and daughter.

I've heard several times that there are remnants of the U.S. military in that village, and they advise not to approach.

It might help the sniper mother and daughter in the short term, but in the long run, it doesn't seem like a good outcome.

As the pressure from the Pioneers increases, her territory will face significant challenges, and she might have to deal with powerful enemies like before.

For example, the gang led by Jo Sung-yong.

Jo Sung-yong's gang hasn't appeared again, but in a world where such people often survive, they might be driving people into the wilderness elsewhere.

I headed west, pulling my bicycle while listening to the Pioneers' rambling transmissions.

A wasteland with large shell craters appeared.

This was where Chinese warships dominated the West Sea and launched missile barrages.

The Defender's new home was precariously situated at the edge of this sunken wasteland.

As I approached the house, I spoke into the radio.

"I'm here."

A young man and woman emerged from the ruins.

"Mr. Skeleton!"

The Defender and his sister waved.

"What kind of 'Mr. Skeleton'?"

"That's what I thought. You're so impatient. We haven't even had a proper meeting yet."

"Meeting? What meeting? Neither of you have parents, right?"

His sister stared intently at the cargo.

"What's this?"

"What? This?"

A proud smile crept onto my face.

This is the wild boar meat I butchered myself, and it's the most delicious part, the ribs.

"What kind of meat is this?"

The Defender sniffed the meat.

"Pork? It smells really good."

"Wild boar."

"Wild boar? Mr. Skeleton, are you good at hunting?"

"Not really, it's more of a situation."

It wouldn't be believable if I told them the mutated dog brought it.

"I'm not very good at hunting."

"That's surprising."

"Hunting humans and animals is different."

"How's the new house? Is it livable?"

The surrounding area was filled with ruined houses.

None of them showed signs of life.

They had been abandoned long ago and were never reclaimed.

"Want to take a look? You came for a housewarming, right?"

"In this situation, what kind of housewarming? I just came to check on you."

"Come on, take a look."

"Hmm."

Exploring someone's house during the collapse is a high-risk event, but the Defender siblings are trustworthy friends.

"Alright."

When was the last time I visited a friend's house?

It must have been when I went to Lee Sang-hoon's place.

We weren't particularly close.

No, we were never close.

Lee Sang-hoon's mother, who was always chasing after men, invited some of Lee Sang-hoon's friends to his birthday party, and I was unexpectedly included.

I was probably invited because I had better grades than him.

At that time, as a high school freshman, I and my friends got a glimpse of the life of the so-called upper class in Seoul.

There were things I had never seen before, and instinctively, I knew I would never own them.

I didn't really think about it.

The burning hatred inside me was too intense to feel envy or self-pity at the sight of others' wealth and comfort.

We ate some decent food, exchanged gifts - I went empty-handed - and sang "Happy Birthday."

Unlike back then, I've grown older, Lee Sang-hoon is dead, and his luxurious apartment is in ruins, but for some reason, I felt a sense of nostalgia for Lee Sang-hoon when I visited this "friend's house" after a long time.

Perhaps it was because of the opulence inside.

"Hey, what's this?"

The wavy patterns of the marble, the shine, the well-finished, sophisticated furniture and objects, all preserved in a way that seemed impossible in this desolate wasteland, were spread out before me.

"I told you, it's a casino."

The Defender spun a roulette wheel, the kind you'd see in a casino.

"It doesn't seem particularly helpful for survival."

I toured the underground casino with the Defender siblings.

The casino, which was quite large, was equipped with many massage chairs, sleeping rooms, and even a shower.

When I turned on the faucet, water came out.

The water had a strong smell of bleach.

"My sister and I cleaned the water tank. I thought about calling you, Mr. Skeleton."

"Absolutely not."

"I thought so."

The bedroom was converted from a sleeping room and had only one bed.

The Defender pointed to a corner of the casino.

"I sleep near the entrance."

Sure enough, a mattress with neatly folded blankets was set up there.

"Electricity?"

"For now, we have batteries. I brought a generator, but fuel isn't abundant. Last winter was quite long, you know?"

Fuel and food aren't abundant.

We'll probably run out before summer.

The Defender doesn't seem too concerned.

"We need to stock up soon."

"We have some leftover bullets."

"Mr. Skeleton!"

After that, I slowly toured the new house, checking what was needed or lacking.

The location isn't particularly advantageous for defense, but it's good for concealment.

I said to the Defender,

"You won't need to kill many people here, right?"

"Maybe. If they find our entrance, we'll have to kill them all. But it doesn't seem like the people who built this place are coming. They probably died a long time ago."

"Right."

Before leaving, I took one last look at the opulent casino.

A lot of money must have been spent on it.

Maybe enough to expand my bunker facilities by two times.

But what's the point?

It's just going to be passed on to someone else without being used.

"Then I'll be going."

"Leaving? Not eating the meat together?"

"There are too many Pioneers around."

"Have a cup of tea at least."

The Defender's sister appeared in front of me, shaking a teacup.

The cup was elegant, and the can in her hand was expensive tea, probably hidden in the casino.

"I'm good at making tea. I worked in a cafe for a while."

"Then I'll have a cup."

What started as a housewarming and a tour of the skeleton turned into a spontaneous tea party.

Under the starry night sky, we set up a makeshift table and three camping chairs.

Soon, the Defender's sister brought out the tea.

I could tell from the aroma alone.

It was good tea.

Much better than the lemon tea in my bunker.

Sip

I can't really tell how it tastes.

They say tea is enjoyed through its aroma.

There were no snacks, but the tea's fragrance and the refined bitterness and astringency, the warm sensation as it flowed down my throat and settled in my stomach, made for a memorable experience.

We savored the tea left by an unknown benefactor in silence for a while.

The Defender broke the silence.

"Later on."

He gazed at the distant fires set by the Pioneers.

"When the world becomes a bit quieter and more livable."

"..."

"What will you do then?"

The Defender looked at me first, but I didn't say anything.

"I will."

His sister raised her hand.

"I want to go to New York."

"New York?"

She nodded and spoke in a louder voice than before.

"I've never been abroad."

"New York, huh."

The Defender held his teacup with both hands and smiled wistfully.

"I want to build a house."

"A house?"

"When I was young, my father and I bought land in a scenic suburb and planned to build a house. It would have a gabled roof, Spanish-style windows, a maze-like garden, and Greek columns."

"I can't imagine what kind of house it would be."

The siblings covered their mouths and laughed.

Watching the affectionate siblings, I gently shook my teacup and fell into thought.

The future.

We don't have a future.

How long will we live?

That's the only choice we have.

But they are different.

Even in this dark time, facing countless deaths and sorrows, they still keep their dreams in their withering hearts.

Seeing what I don't have in someone else makes me think about myself.

"Mr. Skeleton."

The Defender called me.

"Mr. Skeleton, don't you have any dreams?"

"I don't know."

It's embarrassing to be honest.

If my goal is just to live longer than others and die, wouldn't it sound too bleak?

"Hey."

Even his sister joined in, and I felt obligated to package my bleak wish somehow.

I thought of something I had considered long ago, a spontaneous excuse.

"......I want to keep a diary."

"A diary? Can't you start writing it right away?"

"I haven't started yet."

"When will you start?"

His sister asked.

I looked up at the twinkling stars.

A story I once heard came to mind.

The light from those stars actually comes from thousands or even millions of years ago and has traveled that long to reach Earth.

Can humans be as eternal as stars?

"When the world becomes quieter and turns gray, when everyone is gone and only I remain on the bulletin board."

I want to be eternal.

"Then I'll record each day."

"With words?"

"No, on a computer. Before I die, I'll print out what I've written and keep it by my pillow. Maybe an alien or a mutation that replaces humans will find it and think, 'This is what the last human thought about in their final days.'"

As I finished, I noticed the siblings looking at me with wide eyes.

"Mr. Skeleton."

The Defender frowned.

"You are definitely a bit different from us......"

"......"

So I'm not "Mr. Skeleton" anymore.

"Got it."

His sister was equally surprised.

"But it's romantic. The part about aliens felt a bit strange, though."

The Defender stood up and started to clear the teacups.

"Even if you keep a diary, why not write something more hopeful?"

Hope.

There is no hope in this world.

What's the point of having hope in a world with a predetermined end?

Thinking this, I said a bit flippantly,

"There's no such thing as hope in this world. We're all destined to die."

The moment I said it, I regretted it, but the words were already out.

What can I do?

This is our reality.

But the Defender's sister, Da-jeong, had a peculiar expression.

She stared at me and said bluntly,

"Even m9, who lives in The Hope, is more positive than you."

"What?"

What did she just say?

m9?

No way.

Comparing this Skeleton to that guy.

And did that guy survive the winter?

"m9? Didn't he die?"

There's a 99% chance he froze to death.

"He's alive."

The Defender's sister handed me a tablet.

The PaleNet logo was clearly visible on the site, which showed a tilted, broken-apartment building.

Inside, a man with a rope tied around his waist was risking his life to hang laundry.

It was unmistakable.

That awkward profile.

Our former bulletin board colleague, m9.

"Even he is working so hard......"

In shock, I recalled a post m9 had written in the past.

mmmmmmmmm: Look! The grandeur of this royal view!

Not everyone is giving up in the face of despair.

In this miserable collapse, some are still fiercely fighting against the enemy of despair.

"......Even if he's about to die, he still talks about the view."

The world is vast.

I need to reflect a bit.

*After the tea party, as I was about to leave, the Defender approached me.

"Hey, Mr. Skeleton."

"Aren't I 'Mr. Skeleton' anymore?"

"I changed my mind."

"......"

"Remember? Demolishing the school?"

"Demolishing the school?"

"Seems like they're also holding the principal's funeral."

"Principal?"

The person who gave me the callsign "Professor" was the principal.