Free Web NovelI always feel this way, but is there really anyone as volatile as Melon Mask?
The man who went to space, our world’s so-called creator, Melon Mask—it didn’t take long before he was being called a bastard again.
The first thing I noticed was the server slowdown.
Viva! Apocalypse! was visibly lagging.
I’ve never experienced the dial-up modem era myself, but according to some of the older users, the speed now is enough to remind them of those days.
That is to say, it’s gotten so bad that you have to wait forever just to load a single image file, let alone a video.
There are even frequent reports of users losing their entire carefully written posts to glitches.
Of course, pureblood oldbies like me habitually use autosave, so we avoid that kind of loss. But the new users? They probably got a rude awakening.
That alone would be enough for people to curse Melon Mask—but there’s an even more serious issue that started leaking out among North American users.
It was first raised by one North American user who claimed to be a war veteran.
32th-regiment's_redbout: The drone sent by the military knew our location exactly. We’re in the middle of a barren desert we call “the Wasteland,” under a rocky overhang even drones shouldn't be able to detect—yet the soldiers showed up and demanded cooperation.
32th-regiment's_redbout: Who told them where we were? We’re a completely self-sufficient survival group. We don’t trade. We don’t meet outsiders.
That wasn’t the only case.
Similar testimonies—where soldiers or armed groups showed up and demanded cooperation from completely isolated, independent survivalist communities—started appearing everywhere.
EarlyDickson: Sure, we used to trade with outsiders, but we’ve been fully self-sufficient for two years now. We survived two brutal winters ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ without a single deal. Our lifestyle is rough, but at least we’re not getting shot at and losing people. We’ve been living like cavemen in caves.
EarlyDickson: Then a military drone flew straight to us in this monster-free wasteland and dropped a note. Polite words, sure, but the message was clear: “Cooperate, or we’ll wipe your entire community off the map.”
Elvis88screwd: I won’t say much. It’s all repetition anyway. How the hell did the military know our location? They pinpointed us right in the middle of a forest beneath a mountain range.
...
...
Melon Mask didn’t just hand over the admin rights to Viva! Apocalypse!
He gave the U.S. military access to our location data.
Today’s U.S. military isn’t the elite force we used to know. It’s changed—more like the twilight era of the old Korean military: a federation of warlords held together under charismatic leaders or rogue generals.
These warlords operate in the name of the government but are essentially independent fiefdoms.
Still, just as cultures differ by country, American-style warlordism also took on a uniquely American flavor.
Whereas Korean warlords isolated or crushed smaller factions that didn’t belong to their inner circle, American warlords made an effort to “franchise”—to grant smaller factions territory and let them manage it under the big name.
In simple terms: Large warlords seized key regions like cities, power plants, oil fields, and factories, and leased out less strategic, resource-poor areas to weaker groups—under their own brand.
This allowed them to both delegate control over grey zones they couldn’t handle and turn potential enemies into nominal allies. Meanwhile, the smaller factions benefited from the big-name branding, which discouraged outside aggressors from other states.
The drones sent to those North American users? Not from the major warlords—those were from franchised factions underneath them.
These franchised warlords reached out to isolated, free communities.
What they wanted was subjugation.
And step by step, they’d take everything from those communities—resources, people, eventually even the land.
The reason this intel got leaked was clear.
Melon Mask gave it to them.
I couldn’t contact VivaBot—she’d been reassigned—but another anonymous insider shared the truth.
NIX_SUNRISE: Melon gave everything. He never meant to give out sensitive personal info, and up until recently, that data was kept separate. But for some reason, just before he left for space, he handed all admin privileges over to the government.
Which means this:
The current operators of Viva! Apocalypse! know where each user is located.
Of course, if you're connecting through Necropolis, the government can’t track you.
But the new admins aren’t idiots.
Seoraksan13Peaks: What the hell? Why can’t I log in? Fuck
IUsedToLiveInBundang: Seriously. I’ve been getting login errors all morning. Finally got through.
Deadman92091: Slow as hell. Did Melon die and take the servers with him?
beeAmbitious: So he just threw everything away before dying? I used to respect him. Now the ending’s just pathetic.
,,,
,,,
Necropolis-based logins were now restricted.
I don’t have concrete evidence, but I tested it myself: satellite-device connection vs. mobile-phone Necropolis signal. The former was slow but steady; the latter? Severely limited.
“So our board is dying now.”
Emgu gave a bitter laugh as he said that.
“Well, we expected this.”
Woo Min-hee added, standing next to him.
There’s little we can do.
This whole mess is happening in North America. It’s a government-level issue.
We don’t know what the U.S. government plans to do with the satellite network.
Maybe, as some ex-intelligence users speculated, they’ll repurpose the hundreds of satellites making up Viva! Apocalypse! as military hardware to try and save what’s left of America.
Or maybe it’ll become a private network for the privileged elite.
What’s clear is this: even now, U.S. naval ships are scouring the globe, fighting for their survival.
In that context, it’s not surprising that the new operators of Viva! Apocalypse! reached out to me.
System Administrator: Are you Skelton?
A user with the name “System Administrator” initiated contact.
That nickname? It wasn’t something he typed in Korean. Probably a machine translation artifact.
Same with the chat he sent me.
More importantly—his username had a space in it. Normal users can’t do that.
A regular user would be stuck with System_Administrator or System-Administrator or just SystemAdministrator.
So yeah, this guy’s legit.
Let’s see what he wants.
System Administrator: Callsign Professor. Golden Fleece holder. You’re Park Gyu, right?
“....”
Tack tack tack
umchang: What do you want?
System Administrator: We saw your takedown of the General-type. Impressive work.
umchang: As the first to defeat it, I renamed it Nemesis.
System Administrator: Right, Nemesis-type. Got it. As an Old-School Hunter and Golden Fleece bearer, you probably know: that type is the most dangerous threat we’ve faced. Nothing’s deadlier than something that mimics human tactics to kill humans.
System Administrator: The Rift found the optimal way to drive humans to extinction.
umchang: So what’s your point?
System Administrator: The number of General-types has increased. That thing—once half-myth—started popping up all over the place right after you defeated Codename 001 in Seoul.
System Administrator: The fragile alliances between the states began to crumble. They couldn’t withstand the pressure from the General-types.
He wasn’t listening.
Reading this stranger’s chat, I could tell.
If he respected what I said earlier, he would’ve called it Nemesis-type from the start. If he understood who I was, he would’ve shown at least a shred of deference to Skelton.
That lack of basic courtesy told me everything.
He wasn’t here to talk to me. I was just an NPC with data he wanted.
And—predictably—it went just the way I thought it would.
System Administrator: I know it’s sudden, but I’d like you to submit a report on the General-type. Your reports have been invaluable to scholars and Hunters even before the Awakened emerged.
System Administrator: America is in crisis. Unless we take down the General-types threatening each state, we have no future. But if we survive this—
System Administrator: Our ships are back at sea. The unknown threats remain, but all Chinese subs have been neutralized. Trade will resume. The world will return to what it once was.
System Administrator: Humanity will thrive again. We need your help, Professor.
System Administrator: Will one day be enough? If not, type /admin to reach me again. Ask anything you want.
And just like that, the new system admin logged off.
He didn’t even wait for a reply.
Sadly, VivaBot is out of commission. No one to consult.
“What are you going to do?”
Woo Min-hee asked, arms crossed, watching me.
Staring at the monitor, I replied.
“...I dunno.”
Then smirked and added,
“I don’t really feel like giving a nice answer.”
Just look at the board right now—it’s a mess.
The board is dying.
The once-lively community that us oldbies used to love—now a ghost town.
No real posts. Just complaints about login failures and curses hurled at Melon.
Of course, we Viva! Apocalypse! purists are past that.
I logged into FoxCode for the first time in a while.
FoxCode is the Korean-language refuge built by FoxNet after Necropolis leakers contaminated the main board.
Sure enough, with the main board going to hell, both purebloods and “satellite device” newcomers had gathered here.
The fact that newcomers were here? That alone proved how bad things were.
Even knowing they'd be ostracized, they came here anyway—because the death of Melon and the board’s simultaneous collapse were that serious.
At that moment, a group chat on FoxCode lit up.
Foxgames was presiding over the meeting.
foxgames: Been thinking this for a while... maybe it’s time for us to find a new nest.
If I had to pick someone who bounced back the hardest after New Seoul started rising, it’d be Foxgames.
I’ve had my personal issues with him. He’s two-faced, sure—but no one can deny the guy’s competent.
He’s good at everything except games.
Backed by the government, doing all sorts of experimental projects, he’s exactly the kind of ambitious player that dominates during an apocalypse.
foxgames: I’ll tell you guys first—I’ve made a new site based on Necropolis.
foxgames: It’s called Fox World.
One thing’s for sure—he got some serious funding from the Jeju government.
foxgames: This is a new server I got from the Jeju administration.
foxgames: Can handle 5,000 concurrent users.
Foxgames shared a prepared screenshot. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com
His new site? Same old layout. Looked familiar. Nothing groundbreaking.
But it gave off a sense of stability.
What blew us away was how well it ran.
Smooth.
Flawless.
“Wow. This one’s actually solid.”
Emgu let out a genuine gasp.
Wish Woo Min-hee could’ve seen it—but she was off somewhere, in comms with someone.
foxgames: The Americans are going off the rails. What can we do? The tide’s turning.
foxgames: The age of Fox World is here :)
foxgames: I’ll give accounts to you, my friends gathered here.
“...”
It’s a good thing.
With our board falling into political decay, having a new site to migrate to? That’s a relief.
But then why...?
Why do I have such a bad feeling about this?
foxgames: :)
Too bad I don’t have time to worry about Foxgames’ real intentions.
“Sunbae.”
Woo Min-hee came over with a serious face, having just finished a K-WalkieTalkie comm.
She’s usually the detached observer. If she’s walking over to talk?
Not a good sign.
Looking at her face, I waited.
“Things in Seoul... they’re not looking good, are they?”
For just a moment, Kang Han-min’s face flashed through my mind.
“...”
I'm used to it by now.
