Fake Your Excellency (3)
As expected of a capable merchant, Kim Dae-geon returned a week later with news about the impostor.
He'd sent his men to track down the guy's base, and it turned out to be easier than anticipated. The impostor had taken over a street full of restaurants and settled his followers there. The very next day, Kim Dae-geon visited in person, handing over the 100 cans and 20 MRE packs I'd given him, plus 100 more he'd prepared himself—a total of 200 cans and 20 MREs as a friendly gift.
The impostor was thrilled. Though not exact, Kim Dae-geon estimated the group's size at around a thousand people. Like other survivor bands, communal living was the rule. That same day, he mixed the 200 cans into the soup at their communal kitchen and fed everyone. And just as the rumors said, the residents each received a half-slice of white bread of unknown origin alongside their rations.
The impostor ate the same food from the communal kitchen as everyone else, and a hulking man in a gas mask, over two meters tall, was always at his side. When Kim Dae-geon asked who he was, the impostor grinned and replied, "Dae-geon, do you know of the Ragged Wanderer?"
"He's an impostor, sure, but from what I've heard, he seems like a decent guy just trying to help. It's practically volunteer work—no real gain for him."
"Your Excellency, there are a few odd things about him."
The impostor thanked Kim Dae-geon for letting people have some oil in their food during the cold winter. As night fell, he invited Kim Dae-geon's group to stay in a guest room at his building.
That evening, a resident knocked on their door. When Kim Dae-geon asked what was up, the man said, "Will you attend tonight's worship service?" So they did.
"What, is he some kind of cult leader?"
"Yes, Your Excellency."
Kim Dae-geon had been a devout Catholic once, but lost his faith after losing his family in the gate crisis. The sermons showed some Bible knowledge, but they were just patchwork scripture—cheap worship at best. Not surprising. In this hellish world, a man handing out bread and water, eating the same slop as everyone else, would naturally be hailed as a god.
History's full of it: Zhang Jiao of the Yellow Turbans and Taiping Dao, Zhang Lu of the Five Pecks of Rice, Hong Xiuquan of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom. Religious leaders always pop up in chaotic times. I'd even heard from one of the Han sisters that Seoul alone probably had over a hundred cults.
But unlike other frauds who just called themselves gods with no powers, this guy's daily bread handouts made followers think, Maybe... just maybe he's the real deal. Smartly, he didn't claim divinity outright—instead, positioning himself as an apostle, God's agent receiving divine revelations to save people. Yet he introduced himself as the rumored "Your Excellency" to lure in refugees from other groups. He could brush off the infinite water and power rumors as exaggeration, making the impersonation plausible.
"He's a cult leader, but not quite like the ones I imagined."
"Your Excellency, I saw something at night."
After the service, as Kim Dae-geon stepped out for the bathroom, he ran into women on the stairs. They all wore sheer see-through gowns and lingerie, clearly freshly bathed unlike the other followers. Escorted by the fake Ragged Wanderer, they headed to the top floor, to the impostor's room.
"Sex offerings, right?"
"Definitely sex offerings, Your Excellency."
My impression of the impostor dropped from "not normal but not evil" to "total psycho." But Kim Dae-geon saw him differently—as a man whose good and evil blurred together.
It hit me again: the gulf between outsiders' morals and mine. I pegged him as societal trash worthy of immediate extermination the moment I heard about the sex offerings. Kim Dae-geon? He figured feeding and sheltering the starving meant they owed that much in return—not exactly honorable, but fair trade.
Thinking it over, he had a point. In a world where law and morality had collapsed, someone like me—safe and loaded—lecturing ethics would just sound insane to folks scraping for today's meal.
"So, can you bring him here? I'll cover the extra 100 cans."
"No need, Your Excellency. A few more meetings, invite him to preach at my temporary base, and I can lure him here."
"Don't push too hard—take it slow."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
Kim Dae-geon was reliable. He understood trust, the merchant's core virtue.
Our capture plan: He'd build rapport with supplies, act like a potential convert, then invite the impostor to preach at his temp base and lead him here. Easy after that. Issue temp passes for the North Sector to Kim Dae-geon and his man. Kim Dae-geon's an awakener, but admitted he wasn't strong enough to beat the fake Ragged Wanderer. Then send out Im Jui to neutralize the leader and his guard, and I'd talk.
The impostor could be useful if handled right.
"Governor, bring that."
I nodded to Im Jui beside me. She nodded back, fetched two wooden crates from inside, and returned.
"Your Excellency, really, it's fine. I gave him mostly the crappy canned stuff my guys hate anyway."
"Not cans. Take 'em for your men. Open one."
Kim Dae-geon pried open a crate, stared at the contents, then alternated glances between me and Im Jui, mumbling in a daze.
"Your Excellency, this is... uh... ah..."
A reaction fit for witnessing the impossible. Fair enough. I'd had Im Jui pack one crate with ten packs of premium beef cuts—one per type—and the other with ten glass bottles of fresh milk.
"Your Excellency, sorry, but..."
"Yeah, try it."
He bowed, uncorked a bottle, took a sip, and muttered like a broken man again.
"This... slurp... makes no sense. Logically..."
"Everyone reacts like that first time."
"Ah, Your Excellency! Sorry! I was just rambling!"
"It's fine."
He passed the sipped milk to his men; they took turns sipping and reacted the same. Surprisingly, the beef shocked him more. Turns out, his association's beef came from diseased, injured, or old livestock used for transport or farming—tough and tasteless. Mine? Prime marbled cuts from pre-apocalypse food-grade cattle.
"Share the beef with your guys later. Tastier than your shop's stock."
He knelt and bowed deeply.
"Your Excellency, I'll stake my life to bring that cult leader here."
"Good. Don't overdo it."
Before leaving, he mentioned internal Seonghun Merchant Association companies had caught on to our dealings and were pressuring him to introduce me. I held off replying, but he asked if he could tell them, "Only I can trade with him." Exclusive dealing rights, officially.
That's why I liked him more—he hid nothing, laid out his true intentions. If the Crossroads punks had been upfront instead of lying about "we're the only ones who can deal, approach and die," I might've agreed.
I approved. Tears in his eyes, he bowed and vowed to match any price or item I wanted.
A month passed since Kim Dae-geon left. Today was the day.
At dawn, one of his men arrived alone: the cult leader and fake Ragged Wanderer were at the temp base, requesting morning worship. He'd pick them up and bring them here.
Four total: Kim Dae-geon, his man, the leader, and the fake. No big escort—just the one guard—showed confidence in the fake's strength.
I issued North Sector temp passes for them, instructing the subordinate to deliver Kim Dae-geon's. Told them: arrive, hop off the truck, dash straight into the barrier.
"Do-hyun, Jui says she's back. She spots a car from afar."
"Alright. Time to head out."
Han Byeol and I waited outside the entrance. Five minutes later, a car pulled up to the North Sector gate. Front: Kim Dae-geon's man driving, Kim Dae-geon shotgun.
"Damn, he's committed to the aesthetic."
Back seat: fake Ragged Wanderer and the leader, wearing a crown of woven thorny branches like Jesus's, in white robes.
Kim Dae-geon and his man grinned brightly, parked, got out, nodded at me on eye contact, and bolted through the barrier into the North Sector. Bowing toward me, they shouted,
"Your Excellency! I've brought the brazen impostor!"
"Good work."
The leader looked startled briefly, then smiled leisurely as he stepped out and approached the barrier.
Thud.
"Oof."
He headbutted the barrier, stood awkwardly for seconds, then chuckled.
"Impressive skill."
I approached the north barrier with Han Byeol and Im Jui. True to form, the leader sported a beard like a biblical figure.
"Kneel. Do it now, and I'll at least consider not killing you."
He laughed heartily, then sobered instantly.
"Apostates who lost faith deserve death, but I'll give you a chance. Ragged Wanderer, shatter this glass wall and make these heretics kneel before me."
The hulking fake beside him nodded and punched the barrier.
Clang!
A deafening boom echoed. Potent enough to fake being Im Jui.
"Even the Ragged Wanderer's strike fails... Overkill for apostates."
"This guy's fully lost to his own persona."
"What was that?"
"Whatever. I suck at fighting, so I won't step out. Instead..."
I pointed at Im Jui.
"I'll send her out as my champion warrior."