Hiding a House in the Apocalypse - Chapter 105



Only Krnovel

57. Judgment (1)

It was during my multiple debtor years that I encountered a group called judges.

What I remember is that I wore clothes that set me apart from other people, I sat on a high platform, and I had to stand up when they came in.

Most of them got up from their seats.

Only the one who remained with the baseless erroneous opinion remained in his seat, and I remember that he also stood up during the appeal.

According to what I found on the internet, standing up when a judge enters is said to be an act of showing respect and deference to the judiciary of the Republic of Korea itself, rather than a show of respect to the judge.

I don’t know.

Most people seemed to be getting up from their seats because they were afraid of being in the judge’s bad light, since others were doing it.

What do they think when they look up from the high podium and see others standing up when they see them?

Should I make a pledge to myself to do my best so that no one is wronged, or should I think of the scales of the goddess that always stand in front of the court and put myself on those scales?

Or maybe I should just recall the case number of the guy who didn’t get up from his seat without any great sense of mission or thought.

Anyway, it is definitely hard work.

Because judging something is always a heavy task, regardless of the amount of work.

That may be why they are so strict in their selection.

Sitting in such a position naturally requires more responsibility than others.

After the war, the group of judges wearing robes was erased from memory.

Because there is nothing to deal with and nothing to hear.

A chance encounter brought me back to the courtroom where I used to stand.

*

Secondary refugees are a completely different group from primary refugees.

Unlike the first wave of refugees who naively believed that if they just went outside, there would be a chance for survival, the second wave of refugees are people who know with cold determination that the outside is hell, and are prepared and ready to do anything to survive.

Chijijijik–

“Buy bullets~ Exchange for oil. I’ll give you a generous amount. I like oil. Starting with lot number 4.”

The recent trend of K-walkie-talkies sending out messages more frequently is in the same vein.

Not all secondary refugees are murderers who seek out and kill our Viva! Apocalypse! Korean bulletin board users.

Just as we are a handful, those who seek to kill us are also a handful.

Most of them are people who want to find a new home.

Well, if we’re lucky enough to get our bunkers air-raided in the process, they’ll happily rip us off.

Perhaps because refugees were pouring in in large numbers, there weren’t only pure refugees.

Perhaps because they were a people of commerce, some attempted to trade with the refugees.

“Oh, there are women too. Brothers who are lonely, come here and pretend to be fooled and relieve your worries. If you know Gaepo Manseok, we will give you a special discount~.”

One of them is an unidentified merchant who recently started doing business within the range of my frequency.

Their main product is synthetic oil, but they also repair tires, do simple repairs, and even arrange for prostitution. In other words, they are a large corporation.

It is not known how large or how many there are.

The radio waves reach there, but they are in a location that cannot be observed within my area.

K-Walkie-Talkie has a feature that limits the reception range of public frequencies, and I adjusted the maximum reception range to within 15km.

The story is that it is within 15km.

“Oh? That guy who’s been making so much noise lately? Have you seen him?”

Defender, whose voice has recently become lively, seems to have seen the problematic merchant in person.

“They’re in the old highway rest area. They’re pretty big. Four buses and a truck. I didn’t count any passenger cars. Judging by their behavior, I think they’re a gang.”

It goes without saying that gangs are active in the city.

Those who try to reign as the so-called kings of the night will keep appearing like mosquitoes or flies no matter how many times you kill them.

This time, the noisy merchants also appear to be trying to find new food as the gang leaves the dying city.

I don’t want to deal with that type of person, but

“For each 30-round magazine of 5.56mm, we will give you one drum can~.”

The conditions are too good.

Ammunition is a very valuable resource, but it’s overflowing and rotting in my bunker.

Because I was the first one to empty the ammunition depot after the US troops withdrew.

On the other hand, what I lack is oil.

Synthetic oil in particular is a new lifeline that I’ve been paying attention to recently.

As new blood to power my big, beautiful generator – the skeleton heart – replacing the old fuel that has long since passed its expiration date and whose lifespan is barely hanging on.

If you think about how the purest form of trade began as an exchange of surplus resources, it is the trade that I need most right now.

We can survive this winter with the oil and wood we have, but oil is an essential element for a humane life thereafter.

I know it’s risky, but it’s definitely a deal that’s tempting enough to make me hesitate.

“······hmm.”

To be honest, I’m not really into Defender these days.

What should I say?

I should say that we confirmed each other’s differences.

We know they are different, but seeing and feeling that obvious difference is a matter of emotion, not understanding.

Even if they were intruders, I find it difficult to understand how they would slaughter a helpless family like pigs and brag about it as a means of returning to the Internet.

Well, I would gladly kill them if my territory was invaded, but I wouldn’t tell anyone.

But what can I do?

The only thing I can offer is Defender.

“What? You want to make a deal with them?”

The defender thought about it for a second and then answered coolly.

“Okay. I’ll go with you.”

“······.”

Where in this world is there a 100% perfect person?

If you have a friend like that, it must only exist in your imagination.

I made an appointment with my trusted friend, Defender, and met him halfway.

Defender, who always picks up something and makes it quickly every time he comes, brought an electric scooter this time.

The frame looks more like a crudely made product than a finished product, and the roughly tied wires outside make it look like it was hand-picked and made.

“Oh. Is that a new one?”

“Yeah. I liked your motorcycle so much that I made one using what I had.”

I looked at the sky.

A drone is floating in the distant sky.

As soon as my gaze met, the drone flew in a figure eight pattern in the air like a bee.

“It’s a must these days.”

The defender waved at the drone.

I also waved my hand and nodded.

“Yeah. I guess so.”

On the way to the rest area, I didn’t ask about his recent activities.

I don’t think there’s any need to hear it.

If you kill someone, I’ll do that authentication again.

Since I didn’t say anything, an awkward silence flowed between them.

I’m like that too, but Defender also has a reserved personality.

He often talks when there is a topic that needs to be discussed, but he is not the type to create an atmosphere on his own.

“Skeleton. Did you hear that?”

It was Defender’s younger brother who broke the silence that seemed like it would last forever.

“what?”

Because of the distance, her voice was noisy and difficult to understand.

I guess the signal will be cut off a little further.

“It looks like a named mutation has appeared near our neighborhood.”

“Named mutation?”

“Don’t you know? The Seven Evil Things, the Five Wonders, the Three Gods… What else was it? Anyway. They’re the kind of guys you’d see in a comic book.”

“Ah. That.”

I heard it when I went to Hunter Street.

It’s the deciding factor that brought me back to my bunker.

If you keep hanging around there, you might end up facing guys worse than armored monkeys.

“One of the three gods······ appeared······.”

The voice of the defender brother, who had been anxious from the beginning, was cut off in the middle.

I thought about it for a moment.

Should I stop the motorcycle and back it up?

Defender gestured to stop the drone hovering overhead from coming down, then told the rest of the story himself.

“They say that a troublemaker who was active in Gangwon Province recently appeared down in Incheon.”

“What is it for?”

“Because there is a lot of food.”

“Hmm. What kind of guy is he? A cat? A dog?”

“No, an owl.”

Just hearing the bell made me nod my head.

“Why of all things.”

“Yeah. Why of all things.”

A monster that flies silently in the dark night and snatches people away.

That guy is as cunning as a human.

He deserves to be called a god.

Because even just hearing it makes me not see a way to do something about it.

“The guy called Hoot is a troublemaker for the Legion Faction. He comes without a sound and dies instantly when he pounces. Or he becomes half-crippled. The Legion Faction hunters tried to catch him several times, but they couldn’t.”

“That’s interesting news. Where did you see it? I should read it when I have time.”

“Oh? That. I didn’t see it on the internet, I heard about it.”

“Did you hear that?”

“I have friends too. There are people I contact sometimes.”

“ah.”

I didn’t ask any more questions.

It’s an uncomfortable story for both of us.

The Defender has ties to the Legion.

Still, it would be a better choice to change the subject than to just keep your mouth shut.

“······If that kind of guy shows up, it’ll be a bit dangerous here too. Doesn’t that mean we could get hurt?”

“Refrain from entering at night.”

I too will have to refrain from nighttime activities for the time being.

Mutations may seem like inferior versions of monsters, but they are far more difficult and terrifying than monsters, even if they can only bounce off bullets.

Still, thanks to that mutation, the potentially awkward journey was shortened.

The site of an old rest area can be seen in the distance.

There, a shabby but decent storefront with four trailers built into the walls was doing business.

“······I heard you were talking about a deal earlier.”

I took cover under a rock overlooking the rest area and tried to communicate via radio.

“I’d like to stop by and check it out.”

It’s a time when even trading requires risking one’s life.

In particular, the opponents were gangs in the city.

Caution is not an option; it is a necessity.

“Oh, are you a guest?”

A voice was heard over the K-walkie-talkie, making an excessively loud noise.

“Come on in! Gaepo-dong is full!!!!”

*

“Oh, you can come with the radio on. Just stab us right away if we do something stupid. If we send it at full power, won’t everyone within a 20km radius hear it? Then we won’t be able to do business.”

First impression of a man named Manseok from Gaepo-dong.

He’s just an ordinary man.

A person of medium height with a moderately prominent face, with the appropriate amount of wear and tear on him.

The clothes are also loose-fitting black suit pants and a white shirt with short sleeves rolled up.

In fact, gangsters aren’t all people with tattoos all over their bodies like they do in the movies.

Because being a gangster is something only people who are willing to get an indelible tattoo on their heart can do.

The ordinary appearance of Gaepo-dong Manseok did not last long.

From the moment you step inside the store, which is surrounded by walls made of container boxes, you can easily tell that this man is a devil through and through.

There are women in the container.

There are clear signs of abuse.

Next to the stalls displaying all sorts of goods, tattooed gangsters with grim expressions on their faces were playing cards.

The most eye-catching thing was a chained-up man holding a crude sign that read “Manseok Store.”

“······.”

He was naked.

Her emaciated body was covered in traces of all kinds of abuse, and she had a chain tied around her neck like a dog.

Just from a quick glance, I could tell that this man had been abused for a long time by that thug named Manseok to the point of destroying his soul.

“Hey you little shit! Stand up straight and hold up the sign!”

As expected, Manseok glared at the naked man as he walked to the desk.

Just screaming made the man tremble.

He asked me softly with a smile like a Hahoe mask.

“You’re selling bullets?”

“Yes. About half a box?”

“Half a can of ammunition would be about 800 rounds, right?”

“yes.”

“Wow. You have a lot. In these times.”

Manseok glanced at me while tapping away on his laptop.

“What do you do?”

“I am a refugee.”

“800 rounds, how many drums is that? It must be quite heavy to carry it back.”

“I’m going to bring a truck.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Can I check the item?”

Despite the tense atmosphere inside the store, the transaction itself went smoothly.

I felt it here and there.

The gangster named Manseok opened this store not to do serious business, but to do real business.

“For now, this is all we have. Come back tomorrow. I’ll fill in what’s missing. Oh, and the synthetic oil is from Changwon, so you can trust it. If the quality isn’t good, you can come at night and set it on fire.”

Well, we’ll have to wait and see.

Whether these thugs are really interested in making a deal or not.

“By the way, boss, don’t you need a woman?”

As I was about to leave, Manseok smiled secretly and pointed towards the container where the women were.

“I’ll give you a discount. I can’t guarantee against STDs though.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Why? Because the kids aren’t that great? Or because you don’t trust us?”

“No, I don’t do that.”

“Oh, you don’t seem to know who Gaepo-dong Manseok is, but I’ve been in business for quite some time. I’ve been doing it since almost right after the war, so I guess he’s someone who made a living by faith.”

He insisted on prostitution for me.

I didn’t want to look at women or see that kind of reality, so I flatly refused.

Instead, he asked Manseok, recalling the naked man holding the sign that had been bothering him since earlier.

“Who was that person holding the sign? Was he an employee?”

I mixed in some jokes so as not to upset him.

Manseok smiled brightly.

He spoke to me with eyes that looked ordinary, but gleamed with countless malice.

“I’m buying it.”

“yes?”

For a moment I couldn’t understand what he was saying.

It was a word I had forgotten for quite some time.

“Judge. You know, before the war, there were guys who used to stand on high pedestals and brag about things?”

Manseok sneered, revealing his unconcealed hatred.

“I’m different from other people~ I’m above the clouds~ I like reflection essays~.”

I thought about it for a moment.

Whether his hatred is directed at the judges as a group or at the judge himself.

Maybe it’s both.

Because that expression of hatred had a dark depth that was difficult to fathom for it to be directed at just one person.