Free Web NovelAfter the war, every region outside the capital area was abandoned. frёewebnoѵēl.com
It’s a fact everyone knows but chooses to ignore.
The commonly known narrative is that after the war, management centered around the major metropolitan cities—but with the collapse of those cities under Rift pressure, the rise of warlords, and the ongoing spread of erosion, those regions naturally fell into ruin.
I once gathered information about those provinces on the Maya Language Board where regional users used to gather, but it didn’t last long.
The information that came in was all dreary and monotonous, and more importantly, users of the Maya Language Board began disappearing one by one.
However, the provinces haven’t completely vanished.
Humanity is far more persistent than we think.
Even in those deathlands that have turned ash-gray, they say people have steadily laid down foundations for survival and continue to prepare for tomorrow.
The “Princess” that Kang Han-min commissioned me to find was one such person.
Contrary to the nickname, “Princess” was a fully able-bodied man, reportedly living in a place known as the “Tunnel City” alongside a group of survivors.
“When the massive eruption was detected at the Gochang Rift, everyone assumed the survivors in the area were as good as dead. But something unexpected happened. In a place devoid of both military and Hunters, where only abandoned survivors remained, someone wiped out a Wave composed of dozens of creatures all at once.”
Kang Han-min was the only person with a connection to this so-called Princess.
His close aide and cult leader, Yuyang-seo, explained what happened in Kang Han-min’s stead.
“How did we know? You’re wondering that, right?”
Yuyang-seo shook a K-WalkieTalkie in his hand.
Though in the Seoul area—where signal had been restored—K-WalkieTalkies had been mostly replaced by superior and more convenient smartphones, they remained the final and most practical communication method in the provinces and outer regions where signals didn’t reach.
The individual identification number labeled “PRINCESS” belonged to that mysterious Awakened.
“When we looked up the PRINCESS ID, it seemed to have been originally assigned to the commander of a Patriot missile battery stationed in North Jeolla. We’re assuming the unit was wiped out and the radio somehow ended up in his hands.”
Kang Han-min reportedly exchanged multiple communications with the mysterious Awakened via the radio.
At first, they got along well.
On one side, a national hero in a position to offer overwhelming support; on the other, a nameless but immensely powerful Awakened who could become a frontline asset.
But due to a certain incident, their relationship soured.
“That guy made an outrageous request to Savior Kang Han-min.”
Princess asked Kang Han-min to send planes to his location and evacuate 20,000 people to Jeju.
No matter how powerful Jeju was at the time, deploying a large air fleet into an erosion zone with no functioning airport and transporting 20,000 people to Jeju was simply impossible.
Kang Han-min replied that he could do it immediately for under 500 people, and with preparation, maybe up to 1,000—but Princess gave no response.
“But if it were now, it might not be a bad idea.”
Yuyang-seo handed me a document.
* *
As of noon, Unit 803 had been reassigned.
Southern Regional Reconnaissance Dispatch.
It was a long-standing plan to dispatch a large-scale team to assess the conditions and phenomena in the eroded southern provinces.
The plan was older than expected—it had existed as a paper draft even before Kang Han-min sealed the Jeju Rift.
During the Seoul–Incheon period, the government successfully secured a sufficient number of Awakened, but most were capital region residents, and none had been recruited from the remaining provincial populations.
At the time, powerful warlords hostile to the central government were entrenched in the provinces, and Jeju was fully focused on closing its own Rift—so the plan was never realized. However, after Jeju lost many Awakened and the government reestablished power in the capital, it became a viable project again.
Of course, the top priority was Princess.
According to intel, he was living with supporters near a highway zone not far from Ulsan.
This so-called “Tunnel City.”
Tunnel City, as the name implies, was a settlement established in a former highway tunnel.
Because of the tunnel’s structure, entry points were limited—making it easier to defend. And being a place where cars once sped at over 100 km/h, its interior was twice as spacious as a subway.
Thanks to the mountainous terrain, water and firewood were easy to procure, and since the foundation was a road, once repaired, survivors could use the paved surfaces with ease.
The abandoned vehicles littering the road also served as decent sources of metal and mechanical parts.
Most importantly, Tunnel Cities were less affected by erosion.
Even if the entire mountain above the tunnel turned into an erosion zone, the tunnel itself—somehow—remained intact.
Such Tunnel Cities were said to be commonly found in Yeongnam, at the edge of the Taebaek mountain range.
There were many tunnels, and unlike Gangwon Province, the Taebaek range in Yeongnam had gentler slopes and lower elevations, making it easier to access.
Now that the provincial warlords had collapsed without a sound, Tunnel Cities remained the only significant survivor forces in the southern regions.
Naturally, conflict was common.
Battles with leftover warlord troops or raider groups targeting the cities were routine, and even war between different Tunnel Cities occurred frequently.
Especially when they could tap into surrounding wind turbines for electricity—then, gunfire never ceased.
“The biggest problem will be the hostility of the southern populace.”
I wasn’t the overall commander of the reconnaissance team.
While I held operational authority and contact responsibility for Princess, the one leading the entire operation was someone named Pyo Won-sang.
This aligned with the expedition’s true goal—Princess—and its stated objective: to provide aid and assess the actual conditions in the southern provinces.
Pyo Won-sang was a controversial member of the Jeju Committee.
Like the other Committee members, he was a low-level Awakened in his late twenties, and more than anything, he had this baseless self-confidence glowing behind his eyes.
“But as long as we have this train, there’s nothing to fear.”
The Jeju Committee’s ambition was clear in this mission.
The participation of one of the veiled high-level committee members was evidence enough, but the real proof was the cost of the operation.
“This is the flagship of the Southern Recovery Operation: the Panokseon.”
They had prepared an armored train.
Quite literally, a train wrapped in thick armored plates.
It carried an arsenal powerful enough to annihilate a small city, along with a full crew of armed soldiers.
Of course, a train cannot run on its own.
It needs its partner: the rails.
According to Pyo Won-sang, after the war the government had been lukewarm about road repair, but railway lines had been properly maintained.
To ensure smooth supply of agricultural goods from the south and manufactured products from heavy industry zones.
Though they had abandoned the south, the nature of railway tracks made them difficult to build and even harder to destroy. Even aggressive scavengers showed little interest in them.
Presumably due to the anti-personnel mines buried along certain sections.
Drone reconnaissance revealed that with minimal repair, it would be possible to reach the southern provinces without ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ issue.
Though there was risk of passing through tunnel-held territories or zones still under warlord control, that’s what the armored train was for, according to Pyo Won-sang.
“Park Gyu. Long time no see.”
I reunited with Ha Tae-hoon.
His face looked brighter, the usual chronic gloom somewhat lifted—better than before. But honestly, I hadn’t wanted to reunite like this.
“Ah, I got scouted all of a sudden. Meant to contact you, but all the administrative stuff got in the way.”
He had been appointed head of the hunter team for this expedition.
Judging from the satisfied smile on Pyo Won-sang’s face next to him, it was clear whose side Ha Tae-hoon had joined.
“Good to see you, sunbae. Looks like you’ve lost some weight. You’re eating alright, right?”
Well, it’s not like it matters.
It’s not like I’m responsible for his life.
There was some bitterness, sure—but a skilled hunter taking the lead meant I could focus entirely on the mysterious Over-Level-10 Awakened, Princess.
Under Ha Tae-hoon were three hunter teams and a reserve unit.
All from Jeju, all skilled.
Four people were assigned to make contact with Princess.
Naturally, two of them were me and Cheon Young-jae from Unit 803—but Woo Min-hee also joined as a guest member.
Honestly, I absolutely didn’t want to go with her, but for a dangerous mission, having Woo Min-hee as insurance wasn’t a bad call.
And more importantly, if she wants to come, there’s no stopping her.
The problem was the final member.
Completely unexpected.
None other than Mgu.
“Oooh, Skelton! Or should I say, Commander Park Gyu?!”
As if I didn’t already hate the guy, now he was growing a beard too.
Not some stylish Western stubble—no, a damn goat beard. What the hell was he thinking?
“Looks like we’re a team again, Commander Park Gyu! Let’s write another legend together!”
I protested Mgu’s inclusion, but it didn’t work.
Because the one who strongly recommended him was Woo Min-hee.
“Sunbae, loosen your face.”
For some reason, she was absurdly fond of Mgu.
“Why’d you bring someone like that?”
“Why not? He’s fun to be around.”
Probably because Mgu fawned over her to a nauseating degree.
His role was something like a war correspondent again.
No one could clearly explain what exactly he did.
Anyway, that settled our team composition, but we weren’t the only ones assigned to Princess.
Kang Han-min had sent a group of his personal aides under the guise of a support team.
Whether it was Yuyang-seo’s instruction or not was unclear, but it was cross-verified that they were members of Kang Han-min’s personal guard.
“Pleasure to meet you.”
Four members.
All full-fledged Awakened.
Officially, they were meant to protect us in case Princess or someone else attacked with greater-than-Awakened force—but honestly, who knows?
Only Kang Han-min knew their true purpose.
The support team leader was a young woman named Moon Yang-gyeong. A Jeju native, her composure was airtight, like not even a needle could slip through.
She looked at me with a strictly professional gaze and said:
“I’ve been briefed by Savior Kang Han-min. I have detailed information, so please feel free to ask if you need anything.”
Woo Min-hee’s eyes toward Moon Yang-gyeong’s team weren’t exactly kind.
“They look like spies.”
She said it to their faces, and no one could deny it.
That was Woo Min-hee’s authority, I suppose.
After Woo Min-hee stormed off, irritated, we discussed the mission specifics with Moon Yang-gyeong’s group.
As previously mentioned, Princess was said to be living in one of the Tunnel Cities.
Precisely located somewhere between Gyeongju and Pohang, along a road riddled with countless tunnels—each now occupied by various groups, each with their own character.
“Among the groups occupying those tunnels, some are refugees, some come from former autonomous governments, and others are warlords or raiders. Believe it or not, intel says even cult factions are occupying some tunnels.”
In other words, a chaotic and dangerous region.
It wasn’t for nothing that they poured so much money into a toy like an armored train.
The scale of the mission, the surrounding conditions—none of this was normal.
In some ways, this was a mission into which New Seoul had poured its full strength.
And I—lacking both knowledge and a sense of mission—was going on it.
If this were a monster extermination mission, that’d be one thing. But as Kang Han-min said, my mission was to persuade Princess.
But how was I supposed to persuade him?
Personally, I never considered myself particularly good with words.
I could deliver clear, concise, fact-based reports—but I had no training or memory of learning how to move hearts with words.
So I asked.
“Why choose me?”
I asked Moon Yang-gyeong.
Expressionless like a mannequin, she rolled her eyes slightly, then answered with something that was almost a smirk—a smirk closer to a sneer.
“Because you’re Skelton, sir.”
“...It’s true that I’m Skelton, but I don’t understand putting me in charge of such an important mission just because of that.”
The one who replied instead was another of Kang Han-min’s followers.
A young man, not yet named, who looked barely twenty—maybe even still in his teens—added with a lively voice:
“You don’t need to worry about that.”
“Right now, Skelton is a god in the southern provinces! A god!”
Apparently, I had become a god without realizing it.
And honestly? That felt pretty good.
So I tested it out.
SKELTON: "Looks like I’ll be heading to the south soon..."
Hundreds of comments followed.
So many that I had to turn off notifications.
I read through them one by one.
Yubuchobap: Skelton! Skelton!
NaturalPulpBeautyTissue: Skelton-nim looked at me!
Anonymous2313: Wow... is this really Skelton-nim? That way of speaking is so unique.
Pals_koi: GODGODGOD is coming south?! What grand thing is he going to do?!
ChocoMuffin: Waa~ It’s Skelton-nim. I’m in Geochang—can you come here?! It’s not eroded yet!
Sabertooth21: This is Aphaedo. Not just Aphaedo—lots of people still live on the islands! I hope you’ll see us!
Sam-ilMajestyHeritageAPT: If you come, please post again! I’ll make sure to visit!
...
...
“......”
I closed my eyes briefly—and to borrow John Nae-non’s words—felt a cosmic energy gathering around my anus.
Is this the realm of gods?
In any case, the response was overwhelmingly positive.
Most of the hundreds of comments seemed to be from southern survivors.
Maybe Princess was among them.
Still, this mission won’t be easy.
A message arrived from Kang Han-min.
Message from Anonymous68: Aniki! I have a quick favor.
Message from Anonymous68: About those kids Yuyang-seo stuck to you—feel free to use them as expendables or ditch them.
Message from Anonymous68: They don’t have much time left anyway.
