Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 111.2: The Cold Coffin (2)

Disliking someone doesn’t always mean you have to fight them.

Just having negative feelings toward someone isn’t something easily noticed unless you frequently interact with them or actively express it.

My relationship with Dies Irae was similar.

I didn’t particularly like him, but I had never openly criticized him or gotten into a conflict with him.

Because of that, unlike with FoxGame, my line of communication with him was always open.

Message from Dies_irae69: I’ve been meaning to show off our new settlement, actually. I could post about it here, but there are too many prying eyes. You’ve probably figured it out already—fanatics, North Korean rats, even Chinese bastards might be watching.

Message from Dies_irae69: There’s no need to brag, anyway. Same as before the war. Flaunting your wealth only attracts beggars and scammers. In our case, though, we had to take on a full battalion backed by artillery support.

Message from Dies_irae69: Let me know if you’re coming. If you’ve got a K-Walkie, use that. I’ll give you my personal identification number.

He sent me his personal identification number.

-Dies_irae_69

Surprisingly, his ID was identical to his username.

I doubted he had obtained it before the war.

Back when we used to meet, we always agreed on a time and place—never using identification numbers.

There had to be a way to generate them independently.

Back when the government controlled all communications, this would’ve been impossible.

But now?

With no government oversight, it was no longer out of the question.

Dies Irae had always been selective about the people he associated with.

Whereas I based my connections on personal bonds and past relationships, he only followed his own strict criteria.

It wouldn’t be surprising if he had a communications expert in his ranks.

He had always had friction with the Legion and its remnants, after all.

Regardless, I was open to his invitation.

Not only would it be useful to have a guide in unfamiliar territory, but I was also curious to see the community Dies Irae had built.

As someone who had chosen group survival, he was technically an industry veteran in that field.

SKELTON: (Skelton: Looking forward to it.) I’ll reach out once I get there.

I had made plans with Dies Irae.

Considering I had previously blocked him, this was something I never would’ve imagined happening.

But then again, what in this world ever stayed the same?

This time, I decided to go alone.

"What? You’re going by yourself?"

Chun Young-jae asked, sounding surprised.

I nodded.

"It’s not a place for a group."

There were two reasons for this decision.

The first was population density.

Unlike the Seoul-Incheon corridor, where people were scattered everywhere, the southern regions—at least from my territory’s perspective—were sparsely populated.

There had never been many people there, and those who had once lived there had likely disappeared over the past three years.

If my base was one of the most important strongholds in the region, then it only made sense to leave Chun Young-jae, a key fighter, stationed at home.

The second reason was Dies Irae himself.

Dies Irae had a habit of recruiting people he found useful.

He had repeatedly tried to get me to join his faction, and he had made similar offers to Defender.

He tended to prefer highly skilled fighters.

And Chun Young-jae?

He was exactly the kind of person Dies Irae would want.

If I brought him along, there was no doubt that Dies Irae would try to recruit him.

Having spent enough time with Chun Young-jae, I had come to understand one of his weaknesses—he had a thing for women.

If Dies Irae used women to bait him, there was a real chance he might switch sides.

I didn’t intend to antagonize Dies Irae, but he was the kind of person who would betray trust the moment it no longer served his interests.

If Chun Young-jae—a skilled combatant—ended up on Dies Irae’s side, it would become a serious problem.

For that reason, I chose to travel alone.

It increased my risk, but it wasn’t a new kind of danger.

I had traveled between Incheon and Seoul on my own plenty of times before.

"Alright, safe travels."

Ha Tae-hoon pressed a remote, and with a deep mechanical groan, the main gate of the outer wall slowly opened.

"Can’t make it open any faster?"

"This is the best I can do. I’m a tinkerer, not an engineer."

Leaving my allies behind, I headed toward Anseong.

For transportation, I took Baek Seung-hyun’s motorcycle.

It had been left idle for a long time, but it had never once let me down.

It had just the right amount of noise, speed, and control, carrying me swiftly toward my destination.

At the edge of familiar territory, I paused briefly to check my firearms and equipment.

I also rechecked my tire pressure.

From here on, I was entering enemy terrain.

Staring at the abandoned road filled with wrecked cars, I twisted the throttle.

VROOOOOM—!

Following a break in the guardrails, I veered off the road.

It was rough terrain, shaking the bike violently and wearing down the tires, but it was still a better choice than a road blocked by wreckage.

In places like this, humans weren’t the only ones hiding.

Where there were no people, the land was ruled by animals.

And among them?

Mutations.

Riding along a narrow path between farmland, I glanced toward the highway.

A graveyard of abandoned vehicles stretched into the distance.

And within it...

Something moved.

A Mutation.

That shape...

A cat?

People often assumed that dogs were more dangerous than cats.

But from the perspective of prey, a cat was a far more terrifying hunter.

Dogs hunted larger prey with numbers and endurance.

Cats?

They relied on stealth and explosive speed to catch weaker prey in an instant.

If a human was reduced to a size smaller than a cat and had no weapons, they would be nothing more than a meal.

Mutated cats were even worse.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

They had a tendency to play with their human prey before killing them.

This was a common phenomenon reported in India and China, where Mutations had overrun entire regions.

"..."

A massive black cat, having missed its prey, climbed onto a wrecked car and stared at me.

Its pupils were unnaturally large, glowing with an eerie yellow hue.

Less cute—more like something from a nightmare.

I stopped my bike and aimed my pistol.

It didn’t flinch.

Only when I shouldered my rifle did it finally retreat.

Just as intelligence varied among humans, it also varied among Mutations.

Just like Gold and its offspring, some of them were far more intelligent than others.

That Mutation was extremely smart.

It didn’t just recognize firearms—it could identify different types of guns and assess threats accordingly.

It had likely encountered armed humans before.

And killed them.

Mutations like that were often more dangerous than Monsters.

After scanning the surroundings, I continued my journey.

Following broken road signs and GPS markers, I arrived in Anseong.

Like most small cities, it was completely abandoned.

Barricades blocked the streets, torn tents and scattered remains littered the city.

The undead were waking from dormancy, drawn by the sound of my motorcycle engine.

I reached out to Dies Irae.

"Oh, Skelton? You’re here. Where are you?"

He responded immediately, as if he had a radio on him at all times.

I gave him my location.

"See that mountain? There should be signs for a golf course. Head there."

Following his directions, I reached his domain.

A golf course nestled in the mountains.

As I ascended the final stretch, a barricade blocked the road.

"Stop."

Men wearing masks and goggles approached, their guns trained on me.

One of them stepped forward and asked,

"Who are you?"

"Skelton."

The man turned around and gave a nod.

The armed men wheeled back the barricade, clearing a path.

"So, you’re Skelton?"

Though his face was hidden, it was clear that he knew who I was.

"Why would someone like you do something like that...?"

"?"

I proceeded through the now-open road.

As the endless greenery of the plains began to fade, the scorching August sun revealed a new sight—

A golf course.

"..."

No—

A village.

Though made up of camping trailers, RVs, and tents, the expansive golf course grounds had been transformed into a fully functional community.

And there were people.

Men, women, and even children.

A peaceful sight.

Makeshift wind turbines spun briskly, while people plowed the fields, sat together assembling or repairing things, and kids ran around, laughing in small groups.

Even in Jeju, I had never seen such a thriving settlement.

Sitting atop my motorcycle, I observed the village in silence.

Then, a masked and goggled man approached.

There was no doubt in my mind about who he was.

Even with his face covered, I recognized him immediately.

Dies Irae.

"Skelton."

I dismounted from the motorcycle and gave a polite nod.

"Dies Irae."

"How about a drink?"

He removed his goggles and mask, revealing his face.

Unsurprisingly, he looked exactly the same as when we had first met.

He gestured toward one of the many campers lined up in the golf course.

"That’s my home."

His home was a bus.

Not just any bus—

It had been converted into a mobile fortress.

Reinforced steel plates covered various parts of the exterior, and the entire vehicle was wrapped in a metal mesh, like a mosquito net.

Its sheer fortification spoke volumes about the countless battles it had endured.

A camping table sat outside.

As he approached, a young woman peeked out from inside the bus, and at his signal, she handed out drinks.

The condensation on the water bottle told me all I needed to know—

A refrigerator.

"..."

It wasn’t just the numbers.

Dies Irae’s community wasn’t just large—

It had resources.

"So, what do you think?"

"It’s impressive."

I decided to be honest.

King’s city was impressive in its own way, but they weren’t comparable.

King was an Over Level 5 Awakened who had inherited an already powerful band of raiders.

Dies Irae’s real competition was me.

We had both started from nothing and built our respective domains.

If anything, I had the upper hand in the beginning—

I had more resources than the average person, and I had spent years preparing for this.

What I had built was my underground fortress.

Meanwhile, Dies Irae had gathered people.

One by one, he selected trustworthy, competent individuals.

And once his group grew strong, he expanded it into a thriving community.

I might not like him, but I couldn’t deny his vision or his abilities.

"At first, I thought about building a fortress on the mountainside."

Dies Irae leaned back in his chair, drinking his water.

"But there’s no defense against artillery. Once your coordinates are locked, that land is as good as useless. Even if they only fire one shell a day at random, you can’t run a normal economy under those conditions. You’re forced to leave."

"And that couple?"

"Ah, the ones from FoxGame’s bunker? They’re fine—over there."

He pointed toward a man and woman wearing straw hats, working under a makeshift tent.

"They’re not used to manual labor, but they’re diligent. Level-headed, too. The guy isn’t suited for combat, but the woman? She’s tough as hell. She once picked up a live grenade and threw it back. Even most men wouldn’t have the guts to do that."

Thinking back, the wife had seemed more dominant in that relationship.

I asked him a few things, particularly about how he maintained resources for such a large community.

"Honestly? We’re short on supplies. Very short."

Dies Irae didn’t hesitate.

"We barely have electricity or fuel. We’ve got a decent stock of medicine, but food is running dangerously low. It should’ve been better, but some Legion-affiliated general has it out for me. Every time I try to secure something, he comes after me."

"A general?"

"Yeah. He was a major back when I was in the military. Barely thirty, but now he’s given himself a star and calls himself a general. His actual force is only battalion-sized, but since he used to be an artillery commander, he has a few cannons, which makes him a real pain in the ass."

Dies Irae grinned and took another sip of water.

"Fucking annoying."

That casual, almost normal frustration softened my perception of him.

But—

Dies Irae was still Dies Irae.

"Hm?"

There was a faint smell of decay.

It came from behind the bus, where it was out of sight.

The scent wasn’t fresh—it had been there for a while.

Noticing my gaze, Dies Irae smirked.

"You can smell it? I barely notice it anymore."

He stood up.

"Let me show you."

Dies Irae led me behind the bus.

"..."

A gallows.

A corpse hung there.

From the build, it had likely been a woman in life.

A sign dangled from her neck—

"TRAITOR."

And that wasn’t all.

More gallows stood in a neat row behind the first.

At least ten more bodies, each with different labels on their chests.

The same community that had built this ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) peaceful village had executed these people.

Dies Irae turned to me.

"What do you think?"

He was asking me—

While looking at the corpses he had created.