Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 172.2: The Savior (2)

Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 172.2: The Savior (2)

Gong Gyeong-min gestured for me to go inside.
Judging by the atmosphere, it was one of two things.
Either he didn’t have clearance to enter Kang Han-min’s residence—or he simply didn’t want to.
I figured it was the latter.
I looked up at Kang Han-min’s fortress from in front of the building.
Kang Han-min’s “castle” used to be a slick office building for a major conglomerate before the war.
It was now a ruin, but still looked intimidating.
Most of it had gaping holes, but both the lobby floor and the top floor were still hidden behind gleaming glass.
A building adorned only at the beginning and the end—it reminded me of a fish stripped down to its bones.
Inside the lobby, Awakened soldiers in crisp combat uniforms stood lined up on either side, waiting for me.
At the front stood a young woman I didn’t recognize.
“Welcome, Professor.”
A pretty face.
By pre-war standards, she could’ve easily been an actress.
But there was no warmth in her.
“Savior Kang Han-min has been waiting for you for a very long time.”
It wasn’t just her.
Everyone lined up there wore the same artificial smiles, stiff postures, and showed not a trace of real emotion.
They looked more like dolls than people.
Maybe this was the same kind of feeling Gong Gyeong-min got when he saw those dusty, unkempt figurines in Kang Han-min’s room.
Chilled by a vague sense of unease, I stepped into the elevator.
I’d been wondering how I was going to get all the way to the top, but surprisingly, the elevator still worked.
It just moved slowly.
About one floor every three seconds.
Compared to the high-speed elevators we used to know, it was a turtle’s pace.
Still better than walking—and I did appreciate the glass window at the back that gave a view of the outside.
From inside that slowly ascending elevator, I watched the ruined city grow smaller and smaller.
From a distance, it didn’t look all that different from the pre-war days.
Sure, some buildings had collapsed, and others were just skeletons where full structures used to be. But the old capital of Korea still stood, eroding quietly while preserving its past glory.
When the elevator passed the 20th floor, the woman beside me finally spoke.
“This building used to be the TC Group headquarters. It was barely in the top 20 of the business world—frankly, a third-rate conglomerate. Not exactly fitting for someone like Savior Kang Han-min, but the elevator was relatively intact and easy to fix. Plus, as you can see, it offers a view of Seoul’s skyline from inside. I figured it would suit his taste.”
She smiled.
Probably the first time today she showed even a hint of human emotion.
But then—
“Savior Kang Han-min did end up liking it. Of course, we also decorated his quarters to match his preferences.”
Her tone was less like a normal person’s, and more like that of a cult member. Yeah, a fanatic.
“Savior Kang Han-min thinks very highly of your recent performance. I’ve never seen him that excited before—not since I began serving him.”
No need to answer. But I didn’t show any displeasure either.
Learning bits and pieces about Kang Han-min—someone I know well and yet not at all—through a third party like this might actually help when I finally face him.
We reached the 40th floor.
The target was probably the 60th.
The nameless woman suddenly stared at me.
She seemed to want a response.
Couldn’t just ignore her, so I met her gaze and asked:
“Do you need something?”
Still wearing that mechanical smile, she said,
“Professor, do you have any children?”
Nicely done.
I’d completely forgotten.
Kim Daram’s son.
That was the biggest bargaining chip I had to hold Kim Daram in place, but meeting Kang Han-min had taken up so much mental space that I forgot all about it.
I smiled—naturally, unlike hers—and answered.
“No. I don’t.”
“And your wife?”
“I’m still single.”
“Ah, I see.”
She nodded slowly, an unreadable smile on her face.
It gave me a bad feeling, but I decided not to overthink it.
This whole domain was clearly diseased, top to bottom.
When the doors opened, I finally saw, with my own eyes, the visual embodiment of the unease I’d felt before even stepping into the building.
Black.
It was all black.
There were lights, sure—but the walls, even the ceiling, were painted so black you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. The lights were so dim they barely reflected off the walls. It made us look like we were floating in darkness.
“What do you think?”
The woman looked at me with a different kind of slyness in her gaze.
“Did anything come to mind when you saw this space?”
A den of lunatics.
That’s my most honest, unbiased thought—but I had to pick my words here.
“It’s... a little dark.”
She stared at me, puzzled.
“Is that... a professional opinion?”
I said nothing.
I wasn’t about to dignify this madness with even the first consonant of my thoughts.
This was like the real-world version of the old internet slang “Byeon-meok-geum”—don’t feed the crazy.
I just stood there, blank-faced, and she let out a small sigh before starting to ramble unprompted.
“This space is meant to symbolize the inside of the female genitalia.”
The hell?
My fingers twitched.
If this were the online forum, I’d be pounding out curses at 1,200 keystrokes per minute.
As the light anger crawled up my bloodstream, she started explaining again.
“Think of the elevator we just took as the womb!”
I could see where this was going.
If the elevator was the womb, then we must be the babies.
And like babies being born through the birth canal, what awaited us at the end of this black hallway was probably the ‘vast new world’ created by that cult leader Kang Han-min.
It’s the most cliché metaphor imaginable.
But who am I?
I’m not just the legendary Skelton—I’m also Doctor Emiris.
“What are we then, coming out of the womb?”
Doctor Emiris doesn’t pull punches.
“...Menstrual blood?”
“...”
I could see her face rotting on the spot.
The first, no—the second genuine human expression she’s shown me.
I really must be a VIP in this hellhole.
If people like Ahn Seung-hwan and Kim Hanna—those elite Jeju types—are tolerating my nonsense and still trying to smile through it, that says a lot.
“No, not that. Would you like to try again?”
“A tampon?”
“Professor?”
“Hm...”
“?”
“Ah, sorry. I guess I lack imagination. Occupational hazard of being an old-school hunter.”
The truth is, it’s the opposite—but whatever.
I just didn’t want to play along with people I didn’t like.
As I kept dodging the “right” answer and buying time, the woman eventually gave up and delivered it herself.
“I’m not really supposed to say this, but since the Savior is waiting ahead, I’ll explain. If the elevator is the womb, then we are the gestating children. The fetus grows in the womb and comes out through the mother’s vaginal canal into the world, right?”
“Ohh. Is that so?”
“...This hallway is meant to represent that dark, long tunnel—the process of life.”
“Amazing.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
Even if she is basically a cultist, she’s still human after all.
“I know you probably don’t care, but at the end of this hallway, a perfect world awaits.”
The slight irritation in her tone confirmed it.
Anyway, at the end of that juvenile metaphor-hallway was a large door, barely visible through hairline fractures.
And in front of it stood a man I recognized.
“Hunter Park Gyu!”
It was Jeon Si-hoon.
Unlike everyone else drowning in the sickness of this domain, he still had some traces of humanity.
“Hey. Been well?”
We’d met once before, on Ganghwa Island, but that hadn’t been the time or place for long talks. I wasn’t someone they respected yet.
“Well, more or less.”
Jeon Si-hoon let out a sigh and looked around.
“Still crazy around here, I see.”
“You don’t come here every day?”
“Today’s special.”
I thought about bringing up that fanatical woman he used to see, but it seemed unnecessary now.
There was no anxiety or loneliness left on his face.
Instead, he now had the quiet pride that only those with real power possess.
He’d clearly found his place in this cult-like group.
“Well, the Savior is waiting. Let’s go in.”
The door opened.
At this point, I figured I was past the stage of being surprised or overwhelmed by a mere “scene.”
I’ve been through worse. I’ve seen more. I’ve lived on the edge of death.
What could possibly shock me now?
And yet, this room hit me like a punch.
It had to.
Ash gray.
The entire wall was ash gray.
The floor was covered in fine ash-colored sand, the same hue as what we’d seen inside the Rift.
That’s right.
This ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ color belonged to the world beyond the Rift.
Kang Han-min.
He had colored his sanctuary in the shade of the Rift.
“...”
Is this supposed to be the “perfect world” he spoke of?
What the hell is he thinking?
Without realizing, I felt a tremor in my chest as I took in the ash-colored space.
There he was.
A man lay in the center of this imitation world, flat on his back with his eyes closed.
Kang Han-min.
I looked around.
There was nothing.
No table, no bed, no desk—none of the usual things that belong in a human dwelling.
Just this massive space, hundreds of square meters wide, surrounded by ash gray and sand.
Thud—
The door closed.
Kang Han-min opened his eyes.
He slowly sat up and turned to face me.
“It’s been a while.”
His eyes gleamed with light so bright it erased his pupils as he grinned.
“Aniki.”
“...Yeah.”
We faced each other again.
In a world mimicking the Rift beyond, we stood eye to eye.
There was no other way.
In a room with no chairs, no desks, the postures we could take were limited.
Sure, we could sit cross-legged and face each other, or sit side by side and stare into the distance.
But not here.
I wanted to face him. From a distance.
Thankfully, Kang Han-min had no intention of getting closer either.
Keeping a distance of about fifteen meters—just the right amount for me—he looked at me and began to speak.
“I watched the broadcast.”
He smiled gently.
“Just as I thought, Park Gyu. You were the best of us. Who could’ve imagined it? That a lone man could take down a monster none of us could handle? Not even a fantasy novel would dare write that.”
“...”
A thousand thoughts writhed in my mind.
Words filled with resentment, disgust, uncontrolled fury—and yeah, maybe even jealousy.
But the words I needed to say here were clear.
Only one.
Even if this reunion with him ended in a single question and answer, there was something I had to ask.
Kang Han-min.
I stared straight at the man they called Savior and calmly asked,
“Kang Han-min. What the hell are you trying to do?”
His face froze for a moment.
Of course it did.
Because what I’d said was eerily similar to what Jang Ki-young, my old mentor, used to say to him again and again.
“Kang Han-min! What the hell are you trying to do, huh?!”
Jang Ki-young never understood why Kang Han-min was at our school, or what he intended to do with the knowledge and abilities he’d gained there.
Neither did I.
I thought I did once.
But now I can say for sure.
I have no idea what this former comrade of mine is thinking or what his goals are.
This room—shaped in the likeness of the world beyond the Rift—perfectly represents that feeling.
Kang Han-min stood frozen in shock for a moment, then slowly regained composure.
“...You sound just like him.”
He said in a low voice.
“Jang Ki-young. I guess that makes sense—you were his prized student.”
It’s always been my habit not to respond unless necessary—ever since my days as the Professor.
Let them talk.
I had already asked my question.
The same eerie silence that exists beyond the Rift settled around us.
Kang Han-min began to pace slowly.
With every step, the ash-colored sand beneath him dipped and shifted.
Of course, it wasn’t real Rift sand.
Everything beyond the Rift is fundamentally alien to Earth.
Even if you brought it back in sacks, it would dissolve into golden particles the moment it crossed over.
After treading across that imitation sand a few times, Kang Han-min finally spoke, without turning to face me.
“Do you remember the outcome of the first Hunter expeditions into the Rift?”
I didn’t answer again—but I knew.
Complete nothingness.
The world beyond the Rift, that ash-colored void, was buried in a silence deeper than deep space.
A world of eternal death.
That’s how one major international magazine once described it.
And they were right.
There was nothing inside the first Rifts.
Nothing at all.
“Some people called the Rift Heaven made manifest on Earth.”
I remember that too.
Utter nonsense.
The world beyond the Rift is hell.
A hell with the property of infinity.
When you stand on a high mountain and look across the endless horizon, you might see what looks like formless eyes descending—and countless monsters forming beneath them.
Anyone would feel despair.
“Park Gyu. What do you think? Do you believe that place is Heaven too?”
I had no intention of answering dodged questions, but this one—I would.
“No.”
I answered plainly.
Kang Han-min smiled.
“Really?”
A strange, knowing smile.
As if saying I’d just given the wrong answer.
I felt something boil up inside me.
So I asked.
“Then what do you think it is?”
Kang Han-min looked up at the ceiling.
“Heaven.”
The moment I heard that word, my thoughts went to the weapon I had hidden behind my back.
Yeah.
The axe.

Chapter 172.2: The Savior (2)