012_Fake Your Excellency (1)
The trucks loaded with goods carried four massive, extra-long reels of hose—far larger than anything I had. And the batteries they wanted to charge weren't some puny power banks scavenged by the Crossroads faction; they were ten high-capacity power banks. They even brought fast chargers, which could supposedly top them off in eight to ten hours.
The wealth of the Crossroads faction and Kim Dae-geon's group wasn't even comparable.
We hooked two hoses each to my house and Im Jui's, filling up two water tankers. The regular plumbing produced about a ton of water per hour, so two hoses meant two tons an hour. At twenty-five tons per tanker, it would take over twelve straight hours to fill them completely.
Kim Dae-geon's crew asked if they could pitch tents in front of the barrier, and I gave them the okay.
"Your Excellency, thank you so much."
"Got more hoses?"
"Yes, Your Excellency. We have several more back at the Seonghun Merchant Association base."
"Next time, bring every last one. And you said you had two more water tankers? Bring those too. I'll fill a hundred thousand liters every week."
"Your Excellency! Thank you!"
Han Seol came over carrying three baskets brimming with vegetables and fruit—I'd told her to grab them. Their trade goods included everything from flour and rice to handmade soy sauce and all sorts of seasonings. Our group had long passed the survival stage; now we were indulging in the rich folks' hobby of gourmet dining.
Kim Dae-geon had nailed that perfectly, bringing high-end stuff outsiders could barely dream of instead of canned preservatives. There were even unopened luxury bathrobes and silk pajamas in the mix.
Even for a trade, taking luxury goods like these without reciprocating would bruise my pride. And honestly, it always nagged at me—giving away water and power that cost me nothing, charging them for it. Was that really fair?
"Your Excellency, this is..."
"A gift. Sell it, eat it, do whatever."
"Thank you, Your Excellency!"
Kim Dae-geon's group gawked at the vegetables and fruit, fresh as if just harvested. No wonder. There were no farms around here, and with winter closing in and the chill setting, getting produce like this sparked all kinds of thoughts.
"Your Excellency, if it's not too rude, may I try one right here?"
"Go ahead."
Kim Dae-geon picked up a tomato and took a bite. The firm flesh crunched satisfyingly, juice dribbling down his chin. He closed his eyes, savoring it before swallowing with a sigh.
"It's been so long since I've had vegetables this fresh and delicious."
I hadn't grown them myself, but hearing praise for produce from my house felt good anyway.
"From your goods, it looks like your faction's got some serious pull... Are you the biggest outfit at the Seonghun Merchant Association?"
"No, Your Excellency. There are several bigger than us. But we're still in the top ten."
Staggering. They seemed loaded already, and they were barely top ten? That meant even richer factions out there.
"How's the Reconstruction Government these days? You mentioned spies there."
Kim Dae-geon flinched at my words, waved off his subordinates, and leaned close to the barrier, whispering.
"Your Excellency. Three days ago, the Reconstruction Government's president was assassinated."
"Assassinated? Right, they had a president."
I'd never heard about one in past Reconstruction talks—thought they ran a cabinet system. But the Han sisters said there was a president, just a powerless figurehead. The assassinated one was the prime minister they'd kidnapped during the military generals' coup against the Republic of Korea government when they declared independence.
Denying the current president's legitimacy, they'd snatched the number-two successor and propped him up. A legitimacy totem for their ruling party's claims and their own authenticity—a vegetable president who couldn't decide a thing alone.
Hell, I'd never even heard his name. Not that I'm ignorant; ask random folks on the street pre-apocalypse who the prime minister was, and nine out of ten wouldn't know.
"They've got a prime minister too, right? Doesn't he take over as acting president or inherit the role?"
"By their constitution, the prime minister inherits the presidency, not just acts. But the prime minister and all the ministers resigned."
"Why?"
"Rumors say they feared assassination, or that the Reconstruction Minister threatened them to inherit the presidency himself."
"Reconstruction Minister? Seo Su-yeon?"
Kim Dae-geon clapped when her name left my mouth.
"As expected, Your Excellency knows the Reconstruction Government's internals."
"Eh... something like that."
Truth was, I had no clue. But the info was intriguing. With the PM and ministers bailing, the presidency naturally fell to number-five successor, Reconstruction Minister Seo Su-yeon. Now she was president—a total fast-track grab.
Rumors swirled she'd pressured the resignations to claim the seat, or even that she was the assassin. No idea if desperation or some scheme drove it. Hardline generals were furious, of course, but you couldn't just oust a legally inaugurated president outright. Civil war was basically inevitable.
Kim Dae-geon figured winter made fighting suicidal for both hardliners and reconstructionists— they'd hunker down, then boom in spring. Hoped the fallout didn't reach us.
A month and a half since starting trades with Kim Dae-geon. Winter hit hard, turning brutally cold. Even heading up for morning coffee meant wrapping in a blanket.
Kim Dae-geon showed weekly with four water tankers and a goods truck. Two weeks back, the shower business launched—and it was a smash hit. Running 24/7 hot water was straining their massive gas reserves. They'd even formalized a partnership with Seonghun Merchant Association boss Ham Seong-hoon: one day a week reserved for his crew.
Kim Dae-geon openly thanked me for the massive profits. And he'd heard rumors about me spreading inside the Association too.
Asking how far, he said the "Your Excellency" figure commanded vast resources and insane power—rumors of barehandedly slaughtering three hundred raiders who'd come to pillage.
I'd never done that.
Also, the Ragged Wanderer had become this figure's loyal servant. That one was true.
Winter kept things quiet now, but come thaw, factions might swarm here. He'd keep bringing weekly intel. Solid guy.
Before he left, I gifted fruit and veggies, asking to up the weekly tofu, seasonings, and bacon hauls.
"Your Excellency! It's been too long. I hope you've been well!"
The Crossroads faction still traded. Difference now: zero pity left, so I dealt harsher.
Their leader beamed, hands clasped politely, gazing at me. I stepped up.
"What's so damn funny? I'm freezing my ass off, and you're thrilled about that?"
"Y-Your Excellency! What do you mean? I just... seeing you healthy after so long..."
"Kidding. Drop the cans, grab your barrel, and get lost."
"Yes, Your Excellency!"
Might seem overly harsh, but they'd branded themselves traitors by betraying me once.
Life was blissfully peaceful. My people bathed daily in hot water, ate warm meals every time. Wished time would just flow like this.
Snip, snip. My hair had grown too long, so Han Byeol offered to cut it. I'd done it myself living solo.
"Master! Don't move—stay still!"
"Wait, you sure you can actually cut hair? It's not even..."
"Don't worry. I cut for friends back in the Reconstruction Government."
A chill hit me. My cuts seemed better.
"Those 'friends' wouldn't be..."
"My subordinates. They said I could make a living at it."
"That's pity... They were humoring you."
"Pardon?"
"Nothing. Keep going... I'll just wear a hat for a while."
Now I got Han Seol's icy glare at breakfast when Han Byeol volunteered.
"How's it look? Not bad, right?"
I checked the mirror she handed me.
"Get me a hat."
"..."
Teasing aside, it wasn't disastrous. Her skills were just a hair worse than mine.
"Do-hyun!"
"Yeah?"
Han Seol, mid-trade with Jeong Su-hwan outside, came in looking for me.
"Su-hwan insists on speaking to Your Excellency directly..."
"Me? Why?"
"No idea. He was dead serious—wants to talk face-to-face."
"Be right there."
"Your hair..."
"Someone should've told that girl. All the praise made this monster."
"I'll tidy it up later," Han Seol said with a smile.
"Your Excellency! I hope you've been well!"
"Yeah, fine. You too?"
"Thriving, thanks to your grace!"
The formalities thickened by the day.
"So... what'd you need to say in person?"
Jeong Su-hwan met my eyes gravely.
"Your Excellency. Have you recently gone out and distributed water and bread to the slums?"
"Nope. Haven't stepped foot outside here in almost two years. Why?"
"As you know, rumors about Your Excellency are spreading. Soon, folks'll pinpoint this place and come knocking."
"I know. No one's shown yet, so still hidden. That the big news?"
"No. Lately, a man's been going around calling himself 'Your Excellency,' handing out bread and water to the poor."
"What?"
Jeong Su-hwan's gaze was deadly serious. For some reason, an impostor had appeared, impersonating me.