Free Web NovelBefore the war, internet streaming—so-called "inbang"—once occupied a major slice of the media landscape.
It was too firmly established as an actual industry to be dismissed as a passing fad, especially when it had secured a loyal consumer base ready to open their wallets without hesitation.
It wasn’t uncommon for Korean streamers to wander near a Rift and get silently taken out by special forces. But compared to China’s “wanghong,” that was nothing.
They’d march straight into warzones with just a phone and a skeleton crew, hungry for views and clout.
Each time, the Chinese police and military would mete out ruthless punishment, yet wanghong swarmed like flies.
Even I was caught on camera once.
Thankfully, it was only from behind, and the Chinese military apprehended them immediately, so it ended as a minor incident.
But I still remember the logic one of them gave when they were caught.
They said that since they were doomed to live like beggars anyway, they might as well chase fame while they could.
I’ve never really watched inbang, so I don’t know how they interact with viewers or get them to open their wallets.
I’ve glimpsed a stream or two from one of those so-called stars, and to be honest, it felt like peering into a part of human nature I never want to understand.
Maybe the bad image I had of wanghong bled over into my opinion of Korean streamers.
But there was someone around me who did watch inbang.
"Haha. Seriously."
I try to hold back from complaining about Cheon Young-jae, but why does he always do this kind of crap?
I’m not saying he’s a bad person.
I know he’s the kind who can’t rest unless he wears what others wear, eats what others eat—but why does everything he does make me frown?
Ever since that legendary scammer Melon Mask sold the forum board for peanuts, we’ve seen a flood of unfamiliar, unwanted content enter our lives.
Park Hae-min’s beloved baccarat site was one of them.
The dating app that’s been stirring up trouble in Seoul lately?
Another dump from Melon Mask’s overflowing toilet.
So it only makes sense that something like a streaming platform would emerge from this mess too.
We already had the foundation with Live! Apocalypse!—hand over access to everyone, and voilà, you’ve got inbang.
But no one could’ve predicted that all this internet filth would be the work of a single person.
Every corrupt service shared one portal.
Its name:
[ FOX WEB ]
Streaming, casual games, gambling, dating apps—this is the breeding ground of all the viruses currently rotting New Seoul.
"......"
It’s obvious who made it.
FoxGame.
Someone I had long forgotten.
After the Nemesis War, he sent me a few messages asking me to pull strings in the government.
I ignored them all.
I assumed he’d died in his bunker.
He was known to be associated with Dies_Irae, and since that scumbag knew the bunker’s location, I figured he was bound to get killed eventually.
Apparently not just anyone can become an executive at a major company.
THE_FOX: So sorry, everyone! FOX WEB is currently undergoing maintenance! We just hired new staff yesterday, and they’re surprisingly competent, so we wrapped up early! free𝑤ebnovel.com
The man I expected to fade into obscurity after his game flopped rose like a phoenix from the ashes.
No—he didn’t just rise.
He transcended.
With a userbase now several times larger, he made a dazzling comeback.
For public opinion on FoxGame, I’ll borrow ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) Cheon Young-jae’s words:
"FoxGame? Oh, that guy? I heard he’s amazing. Used to be an exec at Nexus, one of the 3N giants before the war. Everything he touched turned to gold—they called him the Midas of the gaming industry. But then he burned out and built a bunker. Honestly, sounds like someone blessed by the heavens."
Only someone who knows absolutely nothing could spout that kind of nonsense.
That man is as despicable and cowardly as they come.
You can tell just by looking at the kind of services FoxGame runs.
"His streaming site? It’s a Ctrl+C, Ctrl+V of Pentax, the failed platform Nexus once tried. The gambling stuff? Same games they used to run before. Even the dating app? Ripped straight from a subsidiary."
Woo Min-hee, who also knew the truth about FoxGame, said this with a bitter smirk.
Surprisingly, she knew more about the pre-war internet than I did.
Anyway, the only reason FoxGame could explode in popularity this fast is 100% because of Melon Mask.
He irresponsibly ballooned the userbase, and since the company was already collapsing, they just handed out resources for free.
FoxGame, already freeloading off FoxCode, took the chance to dump its own data—plus stolen data from competitors and subsidiaries—straight onto their servers.
Still, managing a site used by tens of thousands isn’t something just anyone can do.
"Look, I know you hate him, but he’s undeniably talented. Even if he rode the IT bubble, not just anyone can ride that wave. He had the skills to climb on in the first place."
So while we were stuck on a cramped train with no future in sight, FoxGame was blowing up.
In a way, it was inevitable.
There were more users now, but Viva! Apocalypse!’s Korean board was still basically a gentlemen’s club of collapse preppers—guys with foresight, money, and social standing.
No thrilling content for the masses.
FoxGame sensed that need and perfectly timed their rollout, dumping all the data they’d hoarded into the system.
And they built a dominant portal almost overnight through word-of-mouth.
When I finally logged back into my legendary Skeleton account, I saw a new message from FoxGame.
foxgames: Ah, Skeleton. It’s fine if you ignored all my previous messages. Things are different now, heh.
foxgames: :)
"......"
I wanted to rip his mouth open.
If it were just about pride, I’d launch a full-blown campaign to expose FoxGame.
But that’s not the issue right now.
The reason I had to re-evaluate FoxGame came from—of all places—Cheon Young-jae’s trash taste in entertainment.
Among the streamers he watches, there was one especially unusual case.
[StrongMan Channel]
I didn’t know that streaming with a character avatar instead of your real face had its own terminology.
Cheon Young-jae, who knows way more about this than I do, explained:
"This is a Dullahan. You know—just an image, a cutout? When someone streams with only a character on screen, they’re called a Dullahan. When they use Live2D to sync the character’s expressions to their own, that’s a VTuber. They’re similar, but hardcore fans are strict about the distinction. In fact, old-school Dullahans used to get pissed if you called them VTubers."
I didn’t understand a word and didn’t care to—but this "StrongMan" streamed with a hyper-masculine, cartoonishly exaggerated Western-style male character, matching the channel name.
What I could tell was that this Dullahan was insanely popular.
[Viewers: 8,231]
Over 8,000 viewers.
Considering FOX WEB is a relatively new service, that’s the equivalent of a 50% national TV rating back in the day.
"Take a look at this map of Seoul. Most of it’s ruins, right? That’s accurate. And yeah, if you look closely, there are bodies everywhere. But there are levels to ruins. The Chinese didn’t bomb everything evenly. Some areas were hit hard. Some weren’t. Infrastructure varies. So where will become the next viable living zone? The answer’s obvious. That’s all for now."
StrongMan delivered information with charisma, humor, and energy—but more than anything, he specialized in content no one else was covering. Investment tips, forbidden footage, analysis of post-collapse city zones.
"This guy is insane. He only streams for an hour a day, and in one week he’s already top dog. The chick who used to be #1—dancing half-naked—is totally dethroned. And it makes sense. Rumors say StrongMan’s part of the Jeju elite, and he’s got insane footage. He even showed live video of the evacuation fleet sinking near Jeju."
Like every other hardcore viewer, Cheon Young-jae seemed thrilled to convert us to his latest obsession.
"He’s hilarious. Sure, who knows how long the content will last, but for now, he’s the one and only king. People even say he was a streamer before the war!"
But Woo Min-hee and I didn’t look too happy watching his stream.
First off—the nickname.
"StrongMan" is the kind of name you see in urology clinic ads. But I know someone who used to go by that handle.
More importantly—the voice.
"Haha! Yeah, exactly. It’s tragic, but thanks to that, we were able to close the Rift near Jeju. Why? Rifts tend to project monsters in proportion to the number of lifeforms—especially humans—nearby."
I played this voice for Moon Yang-gyeong, who’d been visiting our car often.
"What? Who is that?"
She acted like she didn’t know.
And that made sense.
That man hadn’t just hidden his appearance.
Those who knew him before he ever wore a mask knew his true voice.
Woo Min-hee, watching silently, muttered in disgust.
"...Isn’t that Kang Han-min?"
Spot on.
*
Message from unicorn18: Inbang? Kang Han-min? I don’t know. Not sure. But I remember when we were in China, he watched that stuff in the cafeteria all the time. Sent a lot of those "star balloons" too.
Na Hye-in is still visibly subdued.
She’s become incredibly passive.
Woo Min-hee shows similar traits. It must be the burden of being an over-level-10 Awakened.
Naturally, the Kang Han-min Kids know nothing about Kang Han-min himself.
"Who’s that?"
"Do we know him?"
They’re called Kang Han-min’s disciples, yet they don’t recognize his voice.
The Kang Han-min they remember spoke clearly, with a refined, confident tone—not like this mosquito-like buzz coming from StrongMan.
But then again, none of them ever really had a conversation with Kang Han-min.
The real trouble started when the train got within 20km of Daegu.
Just like the tunnel city we’d seen before—we detected another gas attack.
The dark tunnel city reeked with the rot of unburied corpses. Not a single living soul was left.
"...We really need to wear gas masks full-time at this point."
Even Pyo Won-sang, who rarely showed emotion, looked rattled by the repeated gas massacre sites.
We still didn’t know who was supplying the gas.
The prisoners we captured only mentioned some nameless warlord. They had no usable intel.
While the train halted for investigation, I retreated to my private cabin.
It was barely bigger than a closet, but few were privileged enough to have one on this train.
That alone showed how much we were respected.
Originally, I planned to do a little ego-searching on “Skeleton,” refresh my self-worth, and renew my will to live.
But then StrongMan—who looked suspiciously like Kang Han-min—showed up.
I’m not into streaming.
But at this point, I had no choice.
MoldUncle: Oh! StrongMan’s going live!
anon3218: Again?! Didn’t he stream yesterday too? He’s really spoiling us these days!
anon424: Honestly, he’s the only reason I keep logging in.
PaleNetLegend: Brrrrroadcast time~
ChocoMuffin: He said he’s dropping a huge video today, right?
GlassesWipe: Wait, huge? Even after the Jeju fleet sinking footage?!
daechimom: Nyomnyom~
umchang: I miss Skeleton...
...
...
The board was exploding.
It had become the hot topic.
Even if Cheon Young-jae hadn’t pointed him out, I would’ve noticed eventually.
"......"
They say people who work with the public are always disappointed by the public.
Because their interest and affection never last.
It flares up fast—but fades just as quickly—and moves on to the next star.
Isn’t everyone being too cold toward Skeleton these days?
He’s the legendary figure who saved Seoul.
I hoped people would at least show a shred of loyalty as I waited for StrongMan’s stream.
It was already heating up.
StrongManFanboy: Waiting
WarFrontLine: Waiting
HeeyaDad: Waiting
anon458: Waiting
OrpheaLine3, B-dong, Hannam-dong: Waiting
Berkut_Break: Waiting
Bailingout: Waiting
ShinWoongTteokbokki: Waiting
Dies_irae69: Waiting
...
...
"......"
I recognized more than a few usernames.
This wasn’t just a passing fad anymore.
It was a full-blown phenomenon.
My eyelids twitched as I checked the viewer count.
[Viewers: 9,932]
Familiar names started lighting up the chat.
mmmmmmmmm: 9700... 9800... 9900....!!!!
mmmmmmmmm: 10,000!!!!!
He’d passed ten thousand.
A dominant piece of content.
It was inevitable.
He had classified footage exclusive to Jeju’s elite—and the kind of money-making content the elders of Korea drool over.
As long as he could string words together, it’d be weird if he didn’t blow up.
And that not-so-handsome face?
Covered with a cartoon anyway.
I watched in a haze of bitter, unfamiliar defeat as the stream began.
"Let’s start with a video."
StrongMan played a clip.
Jeju.
A shimmering Rift loomed ahead.
Dozens of mid-tier monsters stood below it.
A man walked forward, slowly.
Boom!
The entire screen distorted with a massive surge of noise.
And then we saw it. freeweɓnovel.cѳm
The zone of emptiness expanding from the man’s body.
The moment monsters touched the expanding boundary, they dissolved into golden particles—without a sound.
"......"
Purification.
The unique ability said to be exclusive to Kang Han-min.
Silence overtook the chat as the broadcast ended.
When you witness something that incomprehensible—even snackable content like livestreams go quiet.
They say the same silence happened when I fought Nemesis.
After the stream ended, his flippant voice filled the void.
"What’d you think? The power of the strongest Awakened alive?"
He chuckled lightly, then added,
"This is the kind of strength it takes to say you can protect people."
The door opened.
It was Woo Min-hee.
I could tell by her expression—she’d been watching too.
"Senior."
I nodded.
"You understand what this is, right?"
I did.
It was a direct shot.
Kang Han-min was targeting me—Skeleton.
