Paradise Bathhouse (1)
I'd become the Union's Supreme Commander. And yet, with only about 250 residents under my belt, I was now at the head of a union numbering in the tens of thousands. Was this really right?
Official documents piled up daily by the cartload. Even before Odujeong, plenty of small warlords had been affiliated with the Union. Victory in the Yongsan battle had drawn even more factions under its banner.
That night, after my elevation, I vented to the Han sisters—but their reactions weren't what I'd expected.
"Master, those Odujeong bastards have finally realized their place. It should have been this way from the start, but at least they've come to their senses now."
"No, that's not what I—"
"Do-hyun, now we have true legitimacy. The higher the seat, the more it means when your subordinates put you there—not when you claw for it yourself."
"Sigh..."
They took it as a matter of course. They had no idea how burdened I felt.
Only Lee Kyung-min truly got it. I'd drop by the hospital every night, sharing drinks with him in the clinic.
"Your Excellency, they're waving your name to lock in their number-two spots and shore up the system. From what I can tell, though, they're not the type to go around plundering or throwing their weight around. You can relax."
"Yeah."
Educated folks really were on another level.
"It's late. I'm heading to the recovery room. You too, Director—don't burn the midnight oil studying."
"Yes, Your Excellency! Sleep well tonight!"
"You too."
I'd recently discovered something: no matter how much I drank, a night in a single recovery room left me fresh and hangover-free the next morning. It must treat hangovers like any other ailment. Felt kinda wasteful using a high-end room like that, but it was too damn convenient to quit.
To rush the building tech tree, I'd planned a bathhouse for the under-restoration '1st South Sector' building. But with document processing staff swelling and calls for a records office, we made the next one housing instead.
We used to fret over idle residents with nothing to do. Now there was more work than our numbers could handle.
We'd take on 50 more vetted by the Reconstruction Government.
"Housing."
The restored '1st South Sector' building glowed, transforming into housing. We'd remodel the interior into a government office for official business.
For now, I'd pull 20 residents to staff it like civil servants—sorting documents, logging info—every day.
We especially needed a division for the classified intel the Union kept dumping on us, so I created a new 'Intelligence Bureau.' Appointed Han Byeol as the inaugural chief, with two trusted aides to handle secrets.
Han Seol would manage the office itself.
Supreme Commander of the Union or not, I was basically a figurehead with zero actual duties.
New small warlords kept showing up to pay respects, so I set a single day for them all to come at once.
Ham Seong-hoon's handpicked 53 new residents arrived. My reputation must precede me—every one clocked over 60% loyalty.
Of them, 12 were former Reconstruction Government public works officials, so I slotted them into the 'Paradise Sector Maintenance Project.'
Pulled 10 more for the understaffed office.
Two Awakeners went straight to the 1st Guard Unit.
I hadn't lifted a finger. Just skimmed the report from the Han sisters.
The maintenance crews were up at dawn, chopping wood, carving stone, sweating all day long.
Office staff clocked in early and dragged home after sunset.
Made me wonder if Paradise was turning into hell. I hinted to the sisters about easing up.
"Master, do you think the residents are suffering right now?"
"No, they look happy enough, but grinding like that every day... won't they burn out eventually?"
That's when Han Seol chimed in.
"Do-hyun, the number of residents begging for office jobs is insane."
"Huh? Why? It's dawn-to-dusk drudgery."
"Because... working in the very first office, right behind the Union Supreme Commander's residence? That's prestige. They don't see it as hard at all. We practically have to drag them out at quitting time—they're that proud."
"Master, residents think office work is super glamorous. Tons want into the 1st Guard Unit too."
"...If they're happy, who am I to argue."
One of Han Byeol's intel docs noted the Gangnam-based Republic of Korea government already knew all about the Union—and wanted to build ties.
She opined that Union control over all of Gangbuk wasn't some pipe dream if things kept going.
My fame had outpaced my assets by too much. Time to lay low, aim for 1,000 residents.
Build the foundation first, then we could do anything properly.
"Everyone, clap."
"Your Excellency! Congratulations!"
"Your Excellencyyy!"
Three hundred fanatics wailed at the sight of me. This scene played out every time we finished a building restoration.
After the '1st South Sector' office, we kicked off '2nd South Sector.' Bathhouse this time.
Housing took priority for growing residents, but with folks saying ten to a room was fine, we crammed into existing houses and prioritized the bathhouse.
"Bathhouse."
"Ah... ah! It's the miracle light!"
"Your Excellency!"
The building shimmered, morphing into a bathhouse. Looked just like the ones I knew—complete with that big, familiar bathhouse logo plastered on.
Plain two-story concrete job.
Stepped inside with the cadres.
"Whoa... so this is it."
First floor was a full amenity hub: massage chairs, compact gym, the works.
"Your Excellency! Incredible!"
"Yeah."
I'd half-expected some ultra-lux spa, but nope—just our everyday bathhouse, slightly upscale. Even nailed that signature bathhouse scent.
"Your Excellency! Your Excellency! Over here, quick!"
Han Seol's shout cut through as we poked around. Everyone rushed over.
"Ah, Your Excellency—it's a fridge stocked with drinks."
I strolled over casually. I'd clocked it the second we entered—not a production facility, so it restocked weekly. Nothing thrilling.
But I had no clue what treasures lurked inside.
Lee Kyung-min brushed it off, but Han Seol was lit up.
"Your Excellency! The thing you've been desperately searching for...!"
"No way!"
Her face said it all. I bolted to the fridge.
"Ah... ah!"
I clutched the door, dropping to my knees.
"Your Excellency! Are you all right?!"
"Your Excellency!"
Everyone panicked at my dramatics—except Han Seol, who nodded teary-eyed.
The little drink fridge brimmed with options: water, sports drinks, banana milk, soy milk, OJ... And crammed in the bottom corner: twelve glorious cans that hit me right in the chest.
There they were. Ruby-red sheen, bold black COLA lettering.
Hands reverent, I gripped the door and swung it wide.
"Hoo."
Cold mist blasted my face. Trembling fingers snagged a can.
"Ah!"
Ice-cold. The aluminum chill raced up my skin.
"Everyone... go check out the first floor facilities."
"Yes, Your Excellency!"
Slipped into the gym area, sank into a chair, and just stared at the can in silence.
"The day you end up in my hands has finally come."
Back when I lived alone, I was a cola fiend—one can a day minimum. I'd park a 1.25L bottle on my desk, game through the night—that was routine.
"Hoo!"
Hands shaking too much; deep breath, then cracked it open.
Tsssk!
"Gah!"
First cola tab in over two years—that crisp pop, the sweet-tart aroma stabbing my nose.
Cradled the can like a relic, took a sacred sip.
This was it. Liquid sugar numbed my tongue while fizzy bliss tickled my throat.
"Kuh!"
Coughed—too long without carbonation. But no pain. This was the cough of joy.
Pressed it back to my lips, chugged.
"Y-Your Excellency? We've... finished checking the first floor."
"Hm?"
Jeong Su-hwan's report snapped me out. I'd been slurping the last drops like an animal, snout jammed to the rim.
"Ahem... Right. What else was there?"
Set the empty aside, schooled my face to sternness.
"Break room with board games, small viewing room, nap rooms. And a supply closet—soap, disposable toothbrushes, toothpaste."
"Full-on amenity palace. Let's hit the baths?"
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"First, empty that fridge of every cola can and set 'em aside."
"Han Chief already handled it."
Stairs marked second floor men's bath, basement women's.
Up we went, all guys.
"Whoa..."
"Ooh..."
"Your Excellency..."
Forty lockers. Simple reason for the awe: pure, nostalgic bathhouse vibes.
Two big fans whirred overhead; shelves stocked with lotion, skin cream, cotton swabs, hair dryers galore.
"Baths first."
Entrance piled with towels and scrub cloths like a mountain. Nailed the men's bath aesthetic.
Creeeak. Door swung open—humid wave, that classic scent enveloped us.
"Fun. This is fun."
Pure luxury indulgence compared to production sites, but hands-down the most entertaining facility yet.
Showerheads lined both walls, fresh soap bars on every shelf.
Then Jeong Su-hwan burst out laughing.
"Hm? What?"
"Ah! Your Excellency! Sorry! It's just... been so long, I couldn't help—"
"Ha!"
I cracked up too at the sight. Massive wooden tub overflowing with coarse salt.
Dad-joke energy through the roof.
Three pools: massive cold plunge, 37.8°C hot tub, tepid soak. Scrub benches too.
Bathhouse staples: stone sleeping slabs, two saunas.
Clap clap clap. I started applauding; everyone joined in.
Your standard neighborhood bathhouse, plunked down perfect.
"Han Seol!"
"Yes, Your Excellency!"
"Tell everyone: work's done for today. Draw lots, enjoy the baths in shifts."
"Right away!"
I didn't join the residents. Truth was, one of my fantasies was a solo soak in an empty bathhouse.
Tonight, I'd make it happen.