Free Web NovelYuldoguk was a mythical island nation built beyond the sea by the legendary bandit Hong Gildong and his loyal followers.
If you asked whether Baek Seung-hyun had anything in common with Hong Gildong—well, maybe.
He wasn’t a bandit, and he certainly didn’t wield mystical powers.
Whether he was a bastard child or had siblings was unclear. But he had been cast out of society, and he had gathered others like himself to form a faction. That alone made him Gildong-like.
Baek Seung-hyun held significant recognition not just in reality, but online.
Despite his grimy attitude and off-putting mannerisms, dongtanmom was capable of producing high-quality content. As a result, he had his share of fans—especially Western ones who never saw his true face.
And now dongtanmom had posted an advertisement.
Not just on the internet, but also through industrial-grade printed flyers. It suggested that someone was backing him beyond his own finances—likely the government.
The ad was designed to trigger the trauma of those left behind in Seoul.
[ Paradise of Legends – Recruiting Brave Pioneers for the Voyage to Yuldoguk! ]
Sailing to paradise.
One of the most grotesque lies the government had ever told.
Baek Seung-hyun himself had been one of the victims of that lie.
In the history of crime, it’s not uncommon to see victims of exploitation go on to commit the same crimes against others.
A former sex trafficking victim becomes a pimp, for example—brutally exploiting other women until eventually arrested.
Many saw Baek Seung-hyun’s behavior in this light.
Ppiyak-i: What the fuck is wrong with that bastard dongtanmom?
ChocoMuffin: So where is this Yuldoguk, exactly?
ㅇㅇ: Can’t win the election, so he’s pulling everyone down with him?
Dead4213: Fucking scumbag, Baek Seung-hyun.
WartyToad: He better not be planning to stay behind while sending others.
Anon458: Hm.
Kaiserenberg: nyam-nyam... lol, it’s fucking annoying when someone else does it.
...
...
Even offline, opinions weren’t kind.
"dongtanmom is Baek Seung-hyun? Hmm. Never liked that guy. You met him too, right?"
Kim Daram, still clinging to the faint hope of a legitimate election, meticulously picked lint off his suit as he spoke.
“He’s just... wrong. You know what I mean? Some people give you a bad feeling when they’re around. I don’t believe for a second that his intentions are pure.”
Defender had a similar take.
"...Maybe this time he wants to be the one to sink it all himself. Stuff like this pisses me off."
And who could blame Defender?
Some asshole moves a few papers around and ends up feeding thousands to the fish, and nobody bats an eye. Meanwhile, he personally kills people one-by-one and gets labeled a murderer.
Not that Defender had done anything particularly commendable, either.
It would’ve been nice to hear Woo Min-hee’s thoughts too, but she hadn’t shown her face since returning from Jeju.
Online and offline alike, criticism of the “Yuldoguk Project” was everywhere.
And yet—despite it all—Hope was preparing to set sail once again, with dongtanmom and his multinational crew aboard.
Food, fuel, and assorted cargo were loaded. People boarded the massive oil tanker in steady waves, led by dongtanmom’s crew.
As news of the departure spread, rumors began circulating online.
Rumors that the government was forcibly loading dissidents onto Hope.
Dead3821: Word is the government’s secretly arresting people they don’t like and loading them onto Hope. My buddy always spoke up against them at work—suddenly vanished. Tracked his phone, and guess what? Pinged inside the ship.
The Jeju government had long lost the public’s trust. But with control over resources, organization, and armed force, people had little choice but to submit.
At first, things were quiet. But as the promised elections were repeatedly delayed—and even elementary school kids began to realize it was just another scam, like the ones back in Seoul—opposition visibly grew.
“Anti-government” could mean anything. Even just criticizing the elections now counted.
Some people protested in the streets. Others just voiced doubts to coworkers.
Those were the ones disappearing.
This rumor of forced boarding evoked memories of old authoritarian regimes in East Asia—of dissidents being flown out over the Pacific and simply dumped.
Then, a post titled “How I Escaped Hope After Being Kidnapped” hit the top of Viva! Apocalypse!
Dead99211:
Not gonna say anything that might ID me. Just gonna talk about what happened after I got dragged onto Hope.
Dark room. Angry-looking Indian dudes standing guard. Guy with a buzzcut starts asking questions.
Who are you? What can you do? Got family?
Then comes the résumé shit. What school? What major? Work experience?
Told him I had none. Said my profile ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ was fake, my education a lie. He just shook his head and told me to piss off.
There was no verification. Nothing to prove the story true.
Still, the absurdity—abduction, interrogation, rejection by failure—resonated with people's dark humor.
But not everyone laughed.
Hermit382: Khmer Rouge used to do that—feel your hands. If they were soft, no calluses, they'd bag your head and execute you. Educated folks are the ones who cause trouble, after all.
The viral post might’ve ended there. But then came another.
Dead22334: Confirmed forced abductions on Hope.
Uploaded through Necropolis, the anonymous secure platform—standard now for anything dangerous to post.
This exposé was similar to the previous, but the tone and evidence were much more serious.
“Shit, it’s real.” freēwēbηovel.c૦m
Cheon Young-jae clicked his tongue, staring at his phone.
“Senior. The Jeju bastards are really stuffing people into that ship.”
The photos showed plainclothes men—armed with guns and clubs—herding bound and battered individuals into the ship.
There weren’t just one or two photos. There were 82, all high quality.
Different people. Different days.
At that point, it was undeniable: the government was abducting people and loading them onto Hope.
Woo Min-hee, silent for weeks, finally appeared again—at our office, unit 803.
“You saw what dongtanmom’s up to?”
She didn’t seem outraged by the situation—but clearly, she was angry at her old forum friend.
“Whatever his reasons, doing this now? It’s bad—for him and for the government.”
She looked me dead in the eye.
“Shouldn’t we try to stop him?”
It wasn’t just concern for the victims.
She was trying to stop an old friend from crossing a line he couldn’t return from.
Because if dongtanmom was found to be the man dumping people into the sea, there’d be no salvaging him.
The person “Baek Seung-hyun” would be destroyed—and so would the internet persona “dongtanmom.”
I told her,
“Let’s watch for now.”
*
Back to the moment I met with Baek Seung-hyun.
He stared off into the distance.
“I know you don’t like me.”
“......”
“I’m not exactly likable, so you don’t need to act awkward about it, Park Gyu.”
He took out a cigarette.
Not Chinese. Not Indian.
A rare domestic brand.
“But it’s true—I survived because of you. Because I could access the internet. And without Melon Mask’s supply drops, I would’ve died in China.”
He gave a soft laugh.
“Looking back, I was such a petty little bastard. Funny how it takes a junior bowing first for me to finally speak honestly.”
He stared at me.
That odd, crooked smile on his face was hard to read.
He seemed to be thinking about a lot. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
“Thanks.”
He bowed his head.
I said nothing.
When he lifted it again, he looked not at me but out the window—at the sea, blurred behind the plastic-covered glass.
“...I think I’m about to do something fucked up.”
“Is that so?”
“But please—don’t interfere. Just remember one thing.”
“What is it?”
He let out a white breath with his sigh.
“That I’ve been fooled. More than once.”
He never told me what he was planning.
And I didn’t ask. I knew him.
All I remembered was that, before leaving, he coaxed his sulking wife into waving with the baby beside her.
“Skelton.”
That’s what the child called me.
I smiled faintly and left.
Back to the present.
The ship was nearly ready.
Protestors had gathered at the dock—more than I’d ever seen.
All angry. All outraged.
I’d seen demonstrations before, but never this many people, all furious at once.
“...Could this be what dongtanmom was planning all along?”
Defender muttered beside me.
Da-jeong, her face hidden by a mask, followed up sharply.
“That anonymous post.”
She glared at the fenced area on the dock.
“All those photos? They were taken from inside that fence. The one guarded by surveillance equipment, drones, and armed security.”
“Really?”
“Means it was an inside job.”
And Gong Gyeong-min had said something else that supported it.
“That guy Baek Seung-hyun—he’s our senior. I heard he made some kind of deal with the Committee. Don’t know what he agreed to, but the Committee had a high-level position lined up for him.”
Gong Gyeong-min gave a bitter smile.
“Not that it would’ve lasted long.”
The crowd calmed when Baek Seung-hyun appeared in person.
He showed everyone that all 868 of his crew—including his wife and child—were aboard.
He declared he would sail with them.
He also promised to post daily logs on Viva! Apocalypse! during the voyage.
So, under skeptical eyes, Hope departed Incheon again, setting off into the ocean.
dongtanmom: Found a cute porpoise! Wait—it’s mutated?!
dongtanmom: That island over there is Ap-hae-do! Still looks okay from here!
dongtanmom: Entering East China Sea! South to Jeju! Southeast to Japan! East... maybe the U.S.?!
dongtanmom: Aurora spotted at 33.2°N.jpg
Personally, I don’t think Baek Seung-hyun wrote those posts.
His wife didn’t either.
It was probably a third party.
Whoever it was, the logs abruptly shifted tone three days after departure.
dongtanmom: Rudder’s dead. GPS too. I’d heard satellites were failing, but I thought the International Maritime Guide Satellites would hold longer.
dongtanmom: Don’t worry. We’ve got enough food, and morale’s high. Spring storms might be coming, but nothing so far in the latest Euro forecasts.
dongtanmom: Hull breach. We sealed it, but we need repairs. I’ll share good news soon.
dongtanmom: I hear gunfire. A battleship? Not pirates—pirates don’t carry cannons that big.
dongtanmom: Sudden, but I think this is the end.
That was the last post ever made by the famed user dongtanmom on Viva! Apocalypse!
*
His and Hope’s disappearance never became a national tragedy or rallying cry.
Conspiracy theories about a government deal became meaningless—he’d boarded the ship, posted logs, and vanished.
And yet, there was no mourning either.
It was just a misfortune.
Later, we learned most people forced aboard had no next of kin.
No one left to grieve them.
Still, those who gathered on departure day remembered.
Given the right moment, a similar wave of united anger could rise again.
On Foxcord, the private forum for old Viva! Apocalypse! members, we were holding a relay of tribute posts.
For all his faults, dongtanmom was still our friend.
“...So dongtanmom went out like that.”
Even Woo Min-hee, cold as ever, looked somber.
She stared at me.
“Senior. You don’t feel anything?”
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
“...Not really.”
It wasn’t hatred or disgust.
“I just think he’s still alive.”
“What?!”
Her eyes widened. She made a claw with her fingers and waved them menacingly at me.
“Wait. Did he tell you something? Just you?”
Not really.
All he said was something about Yuldoguk. And about being fooled—many times.
Hardly enough to be certain.
And yet—
“...He’s alive.”
I believe in Baek Seung-hyun. My senior.
He has a wife. A child.
Not just any family, but a family built on mutual trust.
And maybe, in our little Oldbie forum, where grief had briefly settled, posting one last message would serve as a final tribute to the dongtanmom who would never return.
Tap tap tap
SKELTON: Farewell, dongtanmom.
Many comments followed. I won’t mention them here.
But one comment—posted three months later, when the whole Hope affair had faded from memory—stuck out.
daechimom: yom-nyom-nyom ㅋ
I chuckled.
And then, I imagined it.
That mythical island nation—Yuldoguk.
