Chapter 62
Chapter 62
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: 39. Campaign (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Where should I even start?
Explaining the situation to a mother who had lost her son.
Truth be told, I could just leave.
Ignore her, and that would be that.
Would we ever cross paths again?
Maybe in the afterlife, if such a thing existed—but even that was a slim chance.
That afterlife would be packed with unprecedented guests, after all.
But seeing the old woman left alone in the darkness, forced to accept the death of her only son... and knowing I had witnessed his end up close without offering any explanation—it gnawed at me.
There was still time before the armored vehicle arrived.
Driven by a sense of duty or perhaps mere whim—I couldn't tell which myself—I spoke to her.
"...The doctor's death was heroic."
Park Sang-min's mother seemed like a tough woman.
Her clothes were worn and faded, but they were clearly high-end, and the jewelry she wore was no ordinary trinkets.
Yet there wasn't a speck of elegance or refinement to be found—perhaps her personality was too harsh to accommodate any.
"That idiot fool couldn't have died like a hero."
The old woman glared at me with bulging eyes.
"You killed him, didn't you? Huh? You did it, you bastard!"
She lunged straight for my collar.
I swatted her hand away.
"Watch your mouth."
"How dare you talk back! You lowly son of a bitch! Filthy scum without a family tree!"
"Mind your language!"
Her attitude was so overbearing that I raised my voice before I knew it.
"Before the war, you couldn't even meet my eyes, you wretch?!"
The old woman raised her hand to slap my face.
This crossed the line.
There were other ways to subdue her, but to teach her a lesson, I kicked her back, sending her tumbling.
"Agh!"
Some people only come to their senses when pain sinks into their bodies.
She seemed to be one of those types.
As she rolled on the ground, her fine clothes caked in dirt and pain shooting through every corner of her body, she finally grasped her reality. She plopped down on her rear and hung her head.
"Why does everyone hate you? My son. Sang-min, our Sang-min..."
For the first time, moisture glistened in the old woman's eyes.
I pondered for a moment.
Should I tell this rude old lady the truth?
"..."
The conclusion might have been decided from the start.
From the moment she told Park Sang-min to come back—and I overheard it.
A sense of obligation, perhaps.
Park Sang-min couldn't return, but I felt I owed it to his mother to relay what had happened to him.
"...Alright. I'll tell you everything in order. If you don't believe me, you can go inside the National Assembly building and check for yourself."
The story rewound to right after we left the old woman behind.
*"There was no choice. Honestly, with the government fleeing and the country in chaos, what was the Assembly supposed to do? Constitutionally, our role is legislation and checking the executive branch. But how can we check them when the country isn't on solid ground? Even the president, the head of the executive, ran away. All that's left are bureaucrats. What could we do when the top brass fled?"*
I didn't bother listening to Park Sang-min's excuses.
I chalked it up to him having his own circumstances.
*"The election wasn't my call either. It came from higher up."*
He tossed several leading questions my way, but I ignored them all. I had no desire to engage.
The National Assembly building loomed ahead.
Park Sang-min pulled out his phone, fiddled with it, and showed me a photo.
In the picture, a group of gloomy, grubby kids stood in neat rows, with Park Sang-min proudly gripping a boy's shoulder in the center, beaming.
Park Sang-min gazed at his photo self and began his tale.
"I know I'm unlikeable. It's the fate of politicians. A job where you're bound to get hated. But I think it's better than being a judge."
"Bear? You mean bear children?"
"No, not bear. Better! Not 'behr'—'bet-ter'!"
"Ah. Got it."
"This is a photo from the private orphanage I sponsor."
Park Sang-min swiped through with proud eyes.
There weren't just group shots—pictures of the rundown but lived-in orphanage facilities and the kids, with Park Sang-min always front and center, flashing his politician's smile. It was its own point of amusement.
"I've saved countless kids orphaned and wandering. But if I don't get elected as a national representative this time, I won't have the power to look after them."
Park Sang-min looked up at me with sad eyes.
"If I don't get elected, these kids all die."
I said nothing.
I didn't even glance at him.
His intent was so transparently childish that I had to manage my expression.
The Assembly was now within reach.
The grand doors, once trod by Korea's most powerful and influential, stood wide open and corroding.
A few pigeons flapped up in a flurry, scattering feathers.
"...This is the first time I've ever defied my mother."
Park Sang-min said.
Unlike before, I turned to look at him.
He smiled back at me.
"Can you believe it? A national assemblyman, a total mama's boy his whole life."
He opened the door.
"I'm not going in."
I stated flatly.
"Couldn't you at least pretend? My mother's watching."
"..."
I stepped inside the National Assembly.
First time setting foot here, but no thrill or emotion stirred.
Just the usual musty smell, darkness, and chaotic ruins stretched before me.
What caught my interest more were the marks on the floor.
"?"
I turned to Park Sang-min.
"A capsule, right?"
"Yes, a capsule. Pure coincidence or someone malicious? It was plopped right in the middle of the Assembly hall."
"See these marks?"
I pointed at the floor.
Uniform gouges dotted the corridor floor at precise intervals, like they'd been stabbed by a sharp awl.
"Wh-what is this?"
Park Sang-min was as green as I suspected.
I knew it.
Despite flaunting his hunter credentials for a proportional seat, he was dubious even for basic training.
"Among small monster types, there's a spider variant. Similar to Earth's spiders, but with only six legs."
"Th-that much I know. A prime sedentary type, right? Once they establish a base, they're tougher to exterminate than any other sedentary monster."
"Why is that?"
"Uh, well."
"Because they build mazes and spawn offspring. More accurately, minions."
What Park Sang-min said was true.
Spider types were the trickiest small monsters once they set up a base.
Like spiders weaving webs, they reshape the terrain to their liking and spawn hundreds of mini-spiders—spiderlings—to erase any humans who enter the maze from existence.
"Minion traces are everywhere. Beyond the capsule, it looks like one monster appeared here."
"But no terrain alteration?"
Park Sang-min looked around.
"Don't spider types turn their base perimeter into an erosion zone instantly, making it their fortress?"
"It must be recent. Mixed in with the super-large type."
"But spider types only produce minions after establishing a base, from what I know."
"..."
He'd studied hard, it seemed.
This time, he was right.
Spider types, like queen ants, fully fortify their territory before spawning spiderlings.
At least, no reports of reversal during my battlefield days.
Come to think of it, this Park Sang-min guy.
Smarter than me, book-wise.
Top Korean university, master's in the US.
His rushed hunter creds nearly made me dismiss him entirely.
"...Haa."
Park Sang-min slumped to the floor.
Fear of a monster zone was one thing, but bone-deep fatigue overwhelmed his face more.
"Not going any further, right?"
"Yeah."
"Ten minutes, then. So Mom believes us."
Heavy silence enveloped us.
Nothing to say.
We didn't like each other much.
If we were teenagers, maybe a scuffle and makeup—but we're jaded adults.
No reconciliation in the adult world.
We both knew our roots were worlds apart.
"Kim Daram was your senior, right?"
Park Sang-min broke the long quiet.
I nodded silently.
"She was one of the few I could talk to."
I checked my watch.
Only two minutes passed.
Felt like ten.
"That Woo Min-hee was weird. Speaks oddly. Kinda off-putting? No malice, but her tone just rubs you wrong."
Woo Min-hee had that vibe.
Park Sang-min let out a deep sigh.
"...Just like my mother."
I looked at him.
Second time.
Coincidentally, both when he mentioned his mom.
His mother didn't seem pleasant.
The archetype of a haughty, picky rich lady.
Like one making a young department store clerk kneel and berating her endlessly.
Park Sang-min chuckled wryly at the distance.
"Well, being here might all be because of our mom, come to think."
"She told you not to go."
"No, I mean my whole life. Inertia, you know? Pushed by the inertia she created."
"Inertia..."
"From the moment I left her womb, my life was set."
Park Sang-min spread his hand, staring at his palm.
He studied it intently, then turned to me.
"Like palm reading."
"..."
"Snacks, play, clothes, school, hobbies, friends, wife. Mom decided it all. Even becoming an assemblyman was thanks to her."
"Must be from a good family."
"Yeah. Annoying, right?"
Curiosity struck.
"What about your dad?"
Wonder what life was like with a woman that fierce.
"Started a new family and left."
Figures.
"Who could endure that personality? Even my wife couldn't and bailed. My little brother's got something like autism too. You'd be shocked. This rude Park Sang-min having such a awkward sibling."
Definitely self-aware.
He knew how others saw him.
Yet living a life hurting and using people—that took talent, in a way.
Ignorance is bliss for the mediocre.
Anyway.
"Ten minutes up."
Park Sang-min stood.
Oddly, I felt the regret.
This man, just five years older, whose life diverged so wildly from mine—his story intrigued me.
Perhaps fate's doing.
Tales of domineering parents were fantasy to an orphan like me.
"Want to go deeper?"
I also realized Park Sang-min hadn't stumbled into this role.
He read the flow well.
Under arrogant ego hid sharp insight.
Quick to see politician Park wouldn't sway me, he dangled human Park instead. Applaud-worthy agility.
Thus, unplanned, I stepped toward constitutional history's heart.
Assembly corridors lined with frames.
Excerpt constitution, five-five veto, gym election.
Stains of Assembly impotence, modernist style, fading under a roofless ruin.
"I still vividly remember my first day here."
Park Sang-min said as we strolled leisurely inward.
"Everything was shocking, new. First time I felt truly alive."
His steps halted.
His eyes glared at the brazen gray-white orb in the podium center.
"...Even if it was on rails Mom laid."
At the fallen capital's core lay a monster egg.
"I like it here."
Park Sang-min slipped a hand into his pocket.
Before withdrawing, a familiar metal-and-plastic grip peeked out.
A pistol.
"..."
As expected.
Click.
"Drop the gun. On the floor."
I aimed first.
"Three seconds."