Ballantine: "Skelton, don’t worry. Everything will turn out fine."

    Recently, Ballantine, who had changed his nickname, exuded considerable confidence as he prepared for this grand endeavor.

    I had given Ballantine two major requests. First, to keep my identity as Skelton as secret as possible. In other words, to ensure Skelton didn’t look like Professor. The second was, of course, to secure my role as a forum moderator.

    With the restoration of Failnet, the conditions for a moderator election had been established.

    VIVA_BOT014: "The forum moderator election will proceed as scheduled."

    During the dark days of Failnet’s downtime, users had been forced to flock to a government-run site called NationNet or StateNet, but those hastily made platforms couldn’t handle Failnet’s enormous traffic.

    The government’s system required real-name accounts, installation of authorized login certificates, and, even then, the servers frequently crashed, making the internet almost unusable.

    It was yet another reminder of how exceptional and thoughtful an operator my role model John Nae-non was.

    Naturally, when Failnet was restored, its users erupted in a frenzy of excitement.

    On the day of restoration, the forum became a scene reminiscent of the first invasion of Failnet.

    ?? "????? Let’s gooo!!"

    ?? "Hello? Came from Failnet?"

    ?? "It’s so cold! My fingers got frostbitten, so I’m typing with my tongue~~~"

    ?? "Is your forum warm? We’re freezing to death over here!"

    DongjinDad: "???????????????"

    ?? "Doing Failnet like penguins, huddling together."

    ?? "Viva! Aren’t you guys cold?"

    ?? "????? We’re back!!!!"

    ?? "Minus 277 degrees—Let’s gooooooo!!!!!"

    ...

    The once-quiet forum had roared back to life.

    It was so active that it was almost impossible to participate in discussions.

    However, unlike before, the beggars—the desperate users—were nowhere to be seen. Or perhaps they occasionally popped up but were drowned out by the cheers of genuinely happy users celebrating the restoration of the internet.

    Amidst this lively reunion, Ballantine and I steadily advanced the steps necessary to make Skelton the next forum moderator.

    Ballantine: "The main variable is this: Will we exclude Failnet users without accounts from voting, or let everyone participate?"

    The easier route would be the latter.

    If Failnet users could vote, Skelton’s victory was almost guaranteed. Despite their struggles in the cold, Failnet users far outnumber the handful of active forum users.

    But neither Ballantine nor I thought it would be that simple.

    After all, the moderator system was created specifically to filter out troublemakers migrating from Failnet. It made sense to deny voting rights to Failnet users. So, what plan did Ballantine have?

    He had a strategy.

    Ballantine: "Back when John Nae-non analyzed the network to connect Viva! Apocalypse! and Failnet, we discovered a large number of spare accounts on the Viva side."

    Each Viva! Apocalypse! account has a unique ID, which only becomes a legitimate account when linked to the user’s satellite device, the Obelisk. However, Melon Musk had created several spare accounts in the system that hadn’t yet been linked to satellite devices.

    Ballantine speculated on the reason:

    Ballantine: "Take DongtanMom’s intercontinental drone delivery, for example, or the certified shopping sites she used. It seems Melon Musk wanted to continue doing business even during the apocalypse. Viva! Apocalypse! was likely part of that plan—to secure a community of doomsday preppers, create a marketplace, and then attract others who hadn’t joined yet."

    "If I’m right, Melon Musk probably has a large stock of satellite devices at his headquarters."

    I had thought similarly.

    For a cunning businessman like Melon Musk, even an apocalypse would have been an endless opportunity. If the disaster on his space bunker hadn’t occurred, we might be living in a world a hundred times more controlled by his vision.

    Even now, a corner of the forum screen still featured his photo with Bumpy under the caption, "The First Friend of Mutation."

    "..."

    At any rate, those unsold spare accounts were the ace up our sleeve to secure my moderator position.

    Ballantine: "All those accounts have the same default password: 0000. It’s not difficult. But just because the password is simple doesn’t mean the accounts can be activated."

    The battle for the armband had begun.

    *

    "Skelton, why are you suddenly running around in this cold weather?"

    I first went to see Rebecca and her daughter.

    "Still no contact from the U.S. military?"

    "It’s too cold. Maybe when it warms up a bit."

    Rebecca''s home was surprisingly well-maintained.

    While Rebecca lacked skills in cement work, plumbing, or electrical repairs like me, her traditional woodworking skills, honed in the vast forests of America and Canada, were a step above mine. She had transformed her house into a charmingly rustic, 18th or 19th-century American home.

    The fireplace, log walls, and tapestry-style fabrics decorating the walls gave it a distinct warmth.

    "Ondol* is nice, though."

    (*Note: Ondol refers to traditional Korean underfloor heating.)

    I gave her a little unsolicited advice, but Rebecca, being Rebecca, remained unconvinced.

    "I don’t like the idea of baking my body like bread."

    Regardless, I handed her a heartfelt gift.

    "What’s this?"

    "Ah, nothing much. I had some free time this winter and decided to make it."

    "Sausage?"

    "Yeah."

    Sue, yawning, came down from upstairs.

    Apparently, the recent cold weather meant they weren’t on guard duty, leaving them with more free time than usual.

    For Sue, I handed over a juicy canned good I had received earlier from Melon Musk.

    "Thanks, Skelton."

    "No need to thank me. Just having you around gives me a sense of comfort in one corner of my heart."

    "Skelton, you’re acting different than usual."

    She was sharp as ever.

    Finally, I revealed the real reason for my visit to Rebecca.

    "What? Voting? Moderator?"

    "Yeah. So, there’s going to be an election for the Korean Forum Moderator. When the time comes, I’d really appreciate it if you could cast your precious vote for me. And while you’re at it, your American friends too..."

    "Uh, okay."

    "If you could persuade them to cast their votes for me, it’d really make this a happy end-of-year season for me."

    "...You’re talking more than usual, Skelton."

    It was the first time I’d seen Rebecca look at me with disdain.

    So, this is what that face looks like.

    Now I understand Park Sang-min’s struggles.

    Politics, it seems, isn’t for the faint-hearted.

    Elections require you to completely set aside your pride.

    "Please."

    "Uh, hmm..."

    In any case, I secured Rebecca +@.

    "..."

    Next up was Defender.