Free Web NovelBefore the true nature of the Awakened was discovered, they were seen not just as an upgraded version of Hunters—but as a complete replacement.
The very idea of comparing Hunters, who operated under an entirely different principle and mechanism, to the Awakened was absurd from the start.
Their abilities, which rivaled those of monsters themselves, elevated them to the point that even the word "Savior"—a term deemed impossible in our cynical modern society—was attached to them.
At the center of it all stood Kang Han-min.
After his arrival, we were left behind.
And the reason for that became brutally clear in the video Kang Han-nam released.
With no risks, no costs, and nothing more than the activation of a single power, Kang Han-min wiped out a full combat-type horde.
The idea that a single over-level-10 Awakened could take responsibility for an entire Rift wasn’t metaphor or exaggeration—it was stark, undeniable reality.
Now that truth had been revealed.
Those who had passively accepted Kang Han-min as the so-called savior now understood exactly why he had no choice but to be the savior.
Until now, people had only seen blurry or manipulated footage due to security concerns. freёwebnovel.com
But in front of the Jeju Rift, a crystal-clear high-definition recording of the true hero in action was finally revealed.
The impact spread instantly—not just across the Korean-language forums, but through the entirety of Viva! Apocalypse!.
There’s no need to recall every detail of a chat window scrolling so fast it was unreadable.
Let’s just borrow M9’s words.
mmmmmmmmm: 15,000... 20,000... 30,000...
mmmmmmmmm: 40,000...! 60,000!... 80,000...
mmmmmmmmm: 90,000!!!!!
The FOX TV Kang Han-nam channel viewer count shot to 90,000 in an instant.
That number hadn’t been seen since the early days of Live! Apocalypse!.
Foxgames: Sorry. Freezing the chat for a moment.
Foxgames: We’re even borrowing government servers, but even that doesn’t explain this. This is unreal.
Foxgames: The real savior is just different. The real savior.
As the chat froze under administrative order, Foxgames posted a notice.
Let’s ignore the fact that this shady old man was taking subtle jabs at me.
He probably harbored a petty grudge of his own.
But what mattered came next.
Ninety thousand viewers—all focused on one screen.
Kang Han-nam’s livestream.
“Oh. Pretty intense, huh? That surprising? Huh? Isn’t he less cool than Skelton? He is less cool, sure. Acrobatics, flair, technique—none of that’s Kang Han-min’s thing. But he doesn’t need it, does he?”
“Sorry, admin~ could you unfreeze the chat a little? I’m running low on dopamine. This whole thing is for dopamine, you know? And it only comes from the chat.”
“All right, I’ll unlock a few accounts. Keep it civil, okay?”
The frozen chat began moving again, slowly.
A few lines appeared.
OwnerOfUnit3B, Orphezia, Hannam-dong: This is Kang Han-min. This is Kang Han-min. I’d forgotten for a moment.
VillainessNoblewoman (Male, 32): Wow... this is insane. Absolutely insane.
Ovious: Is this the Savior?
Anonymous424: Wow...
Dead2131: I’ve only heard stories, but to blow away that monster so effortlessly?
...
...
The comments were all praise. ƒrēewebnovel.com
As the atmosphere grew heavy, Woo Min-hee let out a light gasp.
“Oh my.”
I looked at her.
She was looking at her phone.
“Looks like my chat’s been unlocked. Hold on~.”
Sure enough, a familiar nickname appeared in the chat.
gijayangban: He has such tremendous power—so why did he do nothing last time?
“......”
I think I finally understood why Woo Min-hee was so popular.
Her heart was more beautiful than her looks.
Then—
“Oh. Reporter Guy?”
Kang Han-nam responded to her comment.
“Kang Han-nam just picked up Woo-senpai’s comment!”
Cheon Young-jae, self-proclaimed livestream expert, helpfully explained the terminology no one asked for.
I wish someone would throw him out already.
Meanwhile, the stream continued.
“Everyone keeps saying it. Seoul was in danger—where was Kang Han-min? What the hell was he doing in Ganghwa Island while the city was dying and people were moments away from death? Just watching?”
Kang Han-nam let out a snort.
“They have no idea how much pain Kang Han-min went through. Look. Using a power that strong—do you think there’s no feedback on the body?”
“Lies.”
Woo Min-hee said coldly.
But neither Kang Han-nam nor the 91,321 viewers would hear her voice.
“Kang Han-min was at death’s door! Driven by the obsession to protect Seoul, his body was falling apart, barely able to move from his hospital bed on Ganghwa Island—but they stopped him. Why? Because ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ if Kang Han-min died, it might not just be Korea that ended, but the whole world. And that’s when Skelton showed up.”
The room’s mood turned cold.
Because Kang Han-nam—no, Kang Han-min—had mentioned me again.
From here on, this might be my only chance to confirm his true intentions.
In the tense silence, Kang Han-nam continued in a slightly flippant voice.
“Well, that guy. He got lucky.”
I could feel both Woo Min-hee and Cheon Young-jae looking at me.
Woo Min-hee had known all along.
But the dim-witted Cheon Young-jae seemed to have only just now figured it out.
He got lucky.
That single line said it all.
Everything that came after was probably just noise.
“Next time, the Savior Kang Han-min will handle it. I hear he’s made a great recovery!”
Now the chat was all about Kang Han-min.
There was no trace of the name Skelton anymore.
*
There’s no point arguing about what’s already happened.
We hadn’t gathered here for the stream—we were here to understand Kang Han-min’s intent.
Why had he sent Woo Min-hee and me into the eroded zone, only to broadcast something like that?
What was he trying to gain?
Did he want me dead?
If so, there were a thousand easier and cleaner ways to do it.
If he’d wanted to, he could’ve killed me silently when we last met.
“Maybe he wants to damage your reputation?”
Woo Min-hee’s theory was interesting, but not entirely convincing.
Kang Han-min’s reputation was already far above mine.
At most, I’d briefly brushed his shoulder.
Sure, within the internet world, my standing was higher—but even that was being caught up to now.
Kang Han-min is Kang Han-min.
Even among over-level-10 Awakened, he was at the top.
They said stronger Awakened existed in places like India or Southeast Asia, but all of them were dead.
Only Kang Han-min remained.
Even Na Hye-in and Woo Min-hee had to take a step back in front of him.
And me? Not even Awakened?
Standing beside him was a contradiction.
Then, Cheon Young-jae suddenly spoke.
“Whatever the reason, if an influencer like Kang Han-nam keeps shaping public opinion like this, it’s not going to be good for you.”
No one, including me, replied.
I had intended to answer.
Until his next words.
“You know why livestreams are so popular?”
Neither I nor Woo Min-hee liked where this was going.
If he had any sense, he’d have stopped there.
But if Cheon Young-jae had sense, he’d be much further along in life by now.
“Because they’re real-time communication! Not like TV! That’s why they feel more immersive, more trustworthy. That shared experience builds consensus—and you can’t ignore that.”
Woo Min-hee turned her head away.
In that, she and I were similar.
Call it the pride of pureblood prep schools.
So no, I wouldn’t be listening to this so-called expert’s opinion.
Instead, I turned to M9, the self-appointed live viewer counter, who had joined late.
“Why are you looking at me? I’m just here to watch.”
M9 grinned as he spoke.
He was probably enjoying this deep down.
Everyone knew he secretly saw himself as my rival.
Maybe he thought if Kang Han-nam dragged me down, he’d get his shot.
That’s M9 for you.
Not easy prey.
In the corner, Moon Yang-gyeong was, as always, silently observing everything we did from her corner of the train.
Honestly, I was starting to get it now.
Why the other Jeju elites didn’t like her.
I’d seen her work with Go Hee-seol and Park Hae-min once or twice, but that was it.
I’d seen Go Hee-seol and Park Hae-min eat and walk together—but never her.
Once, I even saw her eating alone in the corner.
It wasn’t full-on ostracism, but it was close.
Despite her normal appearance, there was something off about her.
Anyway, I’d have to deal with this myself.
“I’ll ask him directly.”
There’s nothing more meaningless than speculation by third parties when the subject’s intention is unknown.
“......”
Tap tap tap
I logged in with an old account.
Moon Yang-gyeong peeked out from her corner but I ignored her and kept typing.
Tap tap tap
SKELTON: This is Skelton. I just want to ask one thing.
The message was to Kang Han-nam.
The content was simple.
SKELTON: Are you Kang Han-min?
I expected a reply.
It had to be a joke.
Kang Han-min had always had a secretive, mysterious image, and he wasn’t quite normal—but he was the kind of guy who liked to joke.
I’d fallen for his online pranks many times.
I still vividly remember the shock I felt clicking on his infamous post: “Bro, that’s the urinal.”
Even after meeting him again—after seeing how seriously he’d embraced the role of Savior, how he now burned with the same flames of hatred as I did—he still had remnants of the old Kang Han-min.
People don’t change easily.
Parts change—but never the whole.
“......”
With vague hope, I waited for a response.
The stream had just ended, so maybe he’d still be online.
In the quiet, I heard voices murmuring.
“I get not liking streams. I even get not liking people who watch them. But dismissing their influence—that’s too much.”
Cheon Young-jae again.
He was talking to M9.
Even if M9 mistook me for a rival, he was still an old-school, purebred survivor.
“Livestreams are only watched by certain people, though, right?”
“No, Em-hyung. The viewers are soft power. That Live! Apocalypse! thing? It’s just another form of streaming.”
Cheon Young-jae again.
I really wish Kim Daram were here.
If nothing else, he had a talent for smacking down idiots smaller and weaker than him.
Fortunately, the wait wasn’t long.
Ding~
A message arrived.
From Kang Han-nam.
From Kang Han-nam: ?
What? A question mark?
What does that mean?
Pretending not to know?
As if we don’t both know everything.
A chill ran down my spine as I waited for the next message.
From Kang Han-nam: Is this really Skelton?
SKELTON: ?
From Kang Han-nam: Wow. It is you.
SKELTON: You’re Kang Han-min, aren’t you?
I asked flat out.
From Kang Han-nam: No. You’ve got the wrong guy.
From Kang Han-nam: :)
Not a joke. Not a trick.
Even face-to-face, Kang Han-min dodged the truth.
His intentions had plunged deeper into mystery.
But I wouldn’t just sit and watch.
I activated Plan B.
That plan?
From Foxgames: Oh? Look who it is :)
From Foxgames: Skelton! The same Skelton who ignored all eight of my messages!
From Foxgames: Eight desperate messages—ignored! And now suddenly, the legendary Skelton messages poor little Foxgames? :)
Disgusting and petty, yes.
But it was the only way.
I was 100% sure Kang Han-nam was Kang Han-min.
But I didn’t need certainty—I needed evidence.
Like any research paper, you start by defining your subject.
Same principle.
Foxgames was the only one who knew Kang Han-nam’s true identity.
His FoxNet fortress was inaccessible even to VivaBot.
I took a deep breath and stared at the screen.
“......”
Tap tap tap
SKELTON: (Skelton apologizing) Sorry! I’ve been crazy busy lately—I couldn’t even get online properly!
SKELTON: (Skelton crying) I really did see your messages, but there were like thirteen world-ending crises one after another! So many monsters, you wouldn’t believe!
It hurt my pride.
But the pride of the strong is different from the weak.
The strong regrow their pride like a stag regrows its antlers.
From Foxgames: Hmph... :(
Foxgames reacted.
Still bitter.
SKELTON: (Skelton sheepish) ;;
“Wow.”
Someone gasped, but I ignored it.
Pride didn’t matter—results did.
From Foxgames: Well, if you say so. So? What’s up? You don’t usually ask for things... guess you need something, huh~ ;)
SKELTON: (Skelton curious) There’s this guy called Kang Han-nam who’s really famous lately.
From Foxgames: Ah~ Kang Han-nam~?
SKELTON: Who is he, really?
No answer.
One minute, two minutes, five.
It was embarrassing.
“......”
Tap tap tap
SKELTON: (Skelton wondering) ?ㅅ?
“...Wow.”
Another gasp.
It was Cheon Young-jae again.
Why was he even here?
I only allowed Woo Min-hee, another oldbie from the forums.
I turned to her.
She smiled slyly, then snorted and wiggled a hook-shaped finger at Cheon Young-jae.
“Yeong-jae. Let’s step outside~.”
“Huh?”
“Why?”
“No, never mind!”
One more person remained.
Moon Yang-gyeong, who had been loitering like it was her birthright.
I looked to Woo Min-hee, but she was already gone, taking Cheon Young-jae with her.
As I debated whether to speak, Foxgames replied.
From Foxgames: It’s Kang Han-min. You probably knew, but still. :)
“Gasp.”
Moon Yang-gyeong let out a breath.
Her eyes were already glazed over.
I ignored her and stared at the screen.
I hadn’t imagined it.
Kang Han-nam was Kang Han-min.
But now we were back to the beginning.
Why was Kang Han-min doing this?
Why go so far just to smear my name?
“Inferiority complex?”
Moon Yang-gyeong muttered under her breath.
“...No, that can’t be it.”
Or maybe...
Maybe she was right.
People sometimes blurt out the truth without meaning to.
There’s much to say.
But none of it matters.
What I want to understand is Kang Han-min’s method.
That’s why I’m going to meet the unknown Jeong Dae-kyung.
I shut my laptop with a grimace.
Ignore it.
That’s the rational response.
If I were Professor Park Gyu, I’d endure it.
But—
“......”
Tap tap tap
SKELTON: (Skelton asking) Hey, sorry, but do you have a spare character or something? Like a Kang Han-nam stand-in?
SKELTON: (Skelton bashful) It’s nothing much—I just wanna try anonymous streaming too.
SKELTON: ;)
Skelton can’t hold back.
