Warlord (1)
"This is Lieutenant Colonel Lee Seong-bong. I have been temporarily delegated command authority over the inland forces."
This was the radio transmission we'd picked up a while back when we dispatched drones to Yeosu to aid the survivors. My first thought upon hearing it was that the ROK Army had been properly smashed to pieces. No matter how dire the situation, for the top brass of the mainland defense forces to be just a lieutenant colonel? That was too much.
"They probably can't cross over anyway, not with those massive sea monsters in the way."
There was no fear on the faces of survivors living their daily lives on Jeju. Just discomfort, anger, and stress in abundance. But in this era, wasn't that something?
"So the guy in Yeosu..."
"Could be both."
As time passed and the drones picked up more transmissions, it became clear the situation was worse than expected. It wasn't just that the army was weakened, leaving a lieutenant colonel as the top commander for the mainland defenses. There were higher-ranking officers both on Jeju and nearby. But neither was helping Lee Seong-bong.
The superiors on Jeju had no intention of stepping foot off the island and had cut off supplies, citing inability to operate motorboats. The nearby superior was even worse. Our drones received transmissions from Gohung, right next to Yeosu. The commander there was a general.
Hearing that transmission, I tilted my head in confusion.
"Didn't the Yeosu guy, Lee Seong-bong, say he'd been delegated temporary command of the inland forces? Their stories don't match."
By rank alone, Lee Man-cheol in Gohung should obviously hold command. There's a massive gap between a field-grade officer and a general. One more question nagged at me.
"Do we even have scout drones doing civilian aid in Gohung?"
The only scout drone activity on the ground had been in Yeosu. But Yeosu and Gohung were right next to each other. If an emergency threatening lives had arisen, Artemis might've sent one on her own initiative.
"Then how does the Gohung guy know about us?"
Artemis said it with conviction.
"Why?"
Our standard drones had short operational ranges. He probably never imagined we were docking combat drones on an airship for long-range ops. Likely figured we were just a survivor group operating multiple drones nearby.
"So between Lee Seong-bong and Lee Man-cheol, who's the legit top commander with government authorization?"
When claims conflict, the side with higher rank or forces holds a slight edge in credibility. Historically, rebels were usually the underdogs against government forces.
The mystery resolved quickly.
Lee Seong-bong cut in over the radio. Unlike his polite inquiry about our affiliation, his tone was sharp as a blade.
I rested my chin on my hand, enjoying the two commanders' pissing contest. Their voices dripped with long-simmering hatred—not just a matter of treason. My soldier's instincts told me they'd been at odds for ages. Being interceptable radio and given their positions, they were holding back from outright curses, mindful of subordinates and potential other survivor groups listening.
Correction: Lee Man-cheol's patience had run out.
A strategic comparison table appeared on screen. Yeosu was indeed outmatched in basic troop numbers and equipment. Plus, Gohung had the most refugees outside Jeju—human resources the military could conscript at any time.
Artemis pulled up footage: the great bridge linking Gohung and Yeosu. At the Yeosu end, guard posts and machine-gun nests. Explosives rigged along the span. Lee Seong-bong was ready to drop it anytime. Otherwise, they'd have to loop north through the interior, punching through infected hordes.
"Not cutting the bridge to stop infected, but to isolate from fellow humans..."
It was disheartening.
Now I got why their stories clashed.
Artemis sighed, deflated by this stomach-churning spat.
She called my name with a hint of unease.
"Yeah?"
She seemed worried my ex-soldier patriotism or military honor might kick in.
"Not a chance!"
I'd quit despite promotion potential, chasing money and safety into the Shelter.
"I know that full well."
The two commanders had forgotten about recruiting me, now locked in a fierce verbal brawl—threats of court-martial executions, bombings, all sorts. Poor the soldiers monitoring them in the ops room.
I muted their comms and scanned recon footage of Yeosu and Gohung. Unlike Yeosu's fragmented, every-group-for-itself state, Gohung was stably organized on a large scale. They'd launched major sweeps recently, controlling most of their territory. Scout drones spotted young and middle-aged folks tending crops under local elders' guidance. Yeosu had more unsafe zones than safe ones, but Gohung controlled nearly everything. Pre-apocalypse, it'd been smaller than Yeosu, but less exposed to infected waves flipped the script.
Plus, a drone industrial park meant they operated plenty of their own. We scouted outside detection range, but drones bumped once—both combat models, hovering muzzles aimed, when another transmission hit. Not Lee Man-cheol; a younger officer on duty.
Vroom! Our drone bolted at pre-programmed max speed.
A startled voice. Vroom! But it pursued immediately. Performance gap was insurmountable, though. Ours was bigger, dual-rotor tiltrotor vs. their common quadcopter. No contest in power.
Artemis chuckled as their drone faded behind.
All this was recorded footage. Noise Trees blocked real-time comms.
Lee Man-cheol was a man of action. Military trucks and APCs rolled toward the bridge—show of force? The standoff lasted nearly an hour until warning shots from Yeosu's machine-gun nest made them withdraw.
Not a detail missed.
"This ain't some '88 Panmunjom standoff. What the hell are they doing?"
I rubbed the bridge of my nose in exhaustion. Now we'd have to worry about inter-military clashes or looting on top of aiding emergencies.
Fortunately, nature mediated.
Snow was falling from the sky. Fat flakes, pouring down.