Surviving in Kim Su-ho's Seoul (2)
Kim Su-ho's policy of saving people couldn't exactly be called evil, and morally speaking, it wasn't particularly wrong. The problem was that in this apocalypse, it was far too idealistic.
One could be certain it was the right thing to do, but the apocalypse reeked of blood—the kind of place where righteousness alone wasn't enough to survive.
"Foolish bastard. Are humans such rational creatures?"
"From the moment this apocalyptic crisis hit, Kim Su-ho became the perfect scapegoat."
Contrary to Kim Su-ho's thinking, humans weren't all that rational. Logically speaking, yes, in this situation, everyone should cooperate and focus on survival as he said. But pure logic couldn't explain this apocalypse, and with no explanation, people were desperate to vent their growing resentment on someone. It was purely emotional, an escape from brutal reality, but humans could become more vicious than anyone else to make sense of it.
Those who kept their wits about them and grasped the situation thought...
"If a regular citizen like Kim Su-ho can do it, then so can I."
"The Han River defense line? I could handle that."
If even a civilian like Kim Su-ho could do it, they felt they could too. These were the same geniuses from Lua Nox who had insulted self-proclaimed gods for rejecting Kim Su-ho's proposal, convinced they could pull it off themselves.
"Why should a civilian like Kim Su-ho be the leader?"
Before the apocalypse, they had been high-ranking ministers or assemblymen. They couldn't stomach bowing to Kim Su-ho, a fresh-faced young guy just starting out. They believed that if they ousted him and seized power, they could solve everything. It was safe to say they were all involved in the political conspiracy brewing in Gangnam.
In an apocalypse like this, rumors and fake news were devastatingly effective. They used them to build their base, stirring up public sentiment against Kim Su-ho.
"Don't they have any conscience?"
The irony was that these were the ones who benefited most from his policies. Kim Su-ho had preserved their vested interests to secure their cooperation, yet they were now trying to discard him like a worn-out rag and divvy up control of Gangnam and the Han River defense line among themselves. They were inhuman beasts through and through—Kim Su-ho had picked the worst possible people to save.
But who could have known the ones he rescued were such monsters? If he had, he would've washed his hands of them.
"Not a single one of these bastards is helping...!"
In truth, he deeply regretted saving these inhuman beasts. Gangnam's self-proclaimed assemblymen had incited those blaming the apocalypse, igniting left-right conflicts. Even Kim Su-ho, who had little interest in politics, quickly grasped the cause.
Or perhaps his forced level-ups made him analyze it almost compulsively. Either way, he realized this was a backlash against his idealistic policies.
"It's a failure. A complete failure."
A normal person might deny their failure and cling harder to the policy, but Kim Su-ho had no such luxury. He immediately admitted it and started devising countermeasures.
The problem is I have no political advisor to consult.
Kim Su-ho lacked specialists in this area—political advisors. His subordinates were mostly frontline operators, not debaters or theorists. The absence of such advisors was likely a key cause of this mess.
If he'd had a pragmatic politician to temper his ideals with reality, he might not have ended up in this bind. Unfortunately, on this Han River defense line, there was no such realist from his perspective.
"Why should I follow Kim Su-ho?"
"It's a national crisis now, but if we can wield Korea's power again, we can overcome it."
"Isn't this overstepping? I should do it—I can handle it!"
Instead of realists, all he saw were ugly power-grabbers twisting politics for gain. But Kim Su-ho now knew their game. Just as they had stirred and absorbed extremist supporters in Gangnam, he had used his own field operatives to uncover their true nature.
Fringe opportunists seizing the apocalypse. Not even real assemblymen.
They weren't elected officials or even legitimate proportional successors. Just chance-takers who joined parties to grab power in the chaos.
But how could they claim to be National Assembly members? Because they were actually in those parties—fringe factions that hijacked them when they collapsed and claimed succession.
The mega-flood had doomed the National Assembly along with Korea. Most lawmakers from both conservative and progressive parties were wiped out, leaving negotiation groups gutted. These opportunists fished in troubled waters, taking over the empty shells.
Protests to the official party remnants would be futile; the two major parties were effectively corpses devoured by these beasts. One might quibble if they truly represented traditional Democrats or conservatives, but...
"Kim Su-ho isn't the president."
"Isn't this illegal?"
"It's illegal, flat-out. The Assembly must impeach him and strip his authority. Kim Su-ho is Korea's enemy! An enemy of democracy! Heroes are enemies of democracy!"
Though on the brink of death, clinging to the "Republic of Korea" name tag had become a dagger stabbing at Kim Su-ho. Parasitic on that label, they hounded him, and even knowing it, he couldn't fight back effectively. After all, they bore the names of parties that once represented Korea—original members who survived the disaster and claimed control-tower duties to wield assembly powers.
Kim Su-ho, no political fighter, was gradually losing ground to their logic, his sighs multiplying.
"I'm not the president, nor was I ever meant for this. But isn't this an emergency apocalypse? Follow my orders."
"Are you threatening us now?"
"If necessary."
With eyes heavy with emotion, Kim Su-ho issued what amounted to an ultimatum: given the circumstances, just follow orders. No matter how idealistic a pushover he was, he was a capable fighter who had pragmatically defended zombie waves. He judged letting them run wild would worsen things, even considering force to stop them.
"Follow my orders. I'm a five-term assemblyman."
"But the command..."
The real kicker: a genuine elected assemblyman had joined the fray. When this survivor demanded command, Kim Su-ho faltered, questioning how to handle it.
"I'm an Awakener too."
The assemblyman countered Kim Su-ho's objection by claiming Awakener status. Surviving to the Han River line amid the chaos meant clever tricks or raw power—Awakening was the fastest path to strength, and he'd taken it.
"Understood."
With a real assemblyman present, Kim Su-ho lacked the justification to suppress them and had to back down. The "Republic of Korea" label was tattered but intact, deserving respect. Yet this concession led others to mistake it for weakness against Korea's sacred laws.
His retreat against assembly authority cost him prestige.
"You're no president of ours."
From those inwardly resentful of his baseless command to absorbed malcontents and even ministers, one bold stand reversed the tide. Kim Su-ho sighed, head aching at the reality.
"So what do you want me to do? You know how dire it is, right?"
Had he confronted the real assemblyman more aggressively—leaning hard on the apocalypse excuse and invoking hellish Gangbuk—politicians' sophistries wouldn't have sown doubt in his leadership among the discontented. Without political advice, Kim Su-ho hadn't thought of it, and now the government he'd revived challenged him in return.
"Then return our authority."
"I'll hand it over if you'll cooperate."
Kim Su-ho would've gladly let them have all the authority if they'd just cooperate. The Han River line was a brutal battlefield; zombies and survivors poured in daily. He needed every fighter and administrator possible. If they took over, he'd yield gladly.
"We'll see how you handle it."
But even yielding authority didn't buy cooperation. Their grudge stemmed from a powerless civilian like Kim Su-ho arbitrarily using their privileges. Had he been an executive branch insider or affiliate, complaints about overreach might've stayed subdued. But as an outsider, they saw him as an invader usurping their power and regime, venting openly.
"What was I supposed to do?!"
Kim Su-ho had ample counters to their complaints. Back then, without those powers, controlling the chaos seemed impossible. He knew it was overreach but had no choice—that's how he'd managed any order at all.
"You've been through a lot."
"NIS agent."
Not every Korean government organ defied Kim Su-ho; some, especially field ops, loyally followed him.
"What insane ideas. Still blind to reality?"
"Our elites have always been disconnected from the people, authoritarian—now, in this mess, you ignore reality!? Think we're suckers?!"
"Kim Su-ho's a hero! Yet these elites steal the achievements he's piled up!"
Field agents knew the country's grim truth intimately. Daily, they rescued survivors with Kim Su-ho from hellish battlefields, escorting them to the defense line while fighting undead—blasting paths through bridges at death's door if needed. As constantly deployed NIS agents in those meat grinders, they knew reality better than anyone.
"The country's already doomed. A failed state."
"Korea's effectively gone."
"Isn't it just Kim Su-ho's power propping up the empty name!?"
Korea was a failed state, a corpse parasitically sustained by Kim Su-ho's personal prowess. Ironic for agents who'd served it, but they'd lost faith, deeming it hopeless.
"Do these idiots have brains!? Risking everyone's survival for that pathetic power!?"
"Strip His Excellency's authority and hold the Han River line!? No way! Even if you're Awakeners, how many are past level 5? I guarantee hardly any—you're cowards who can't return to that hell!"
They raged at Korea's contradictions exploding in the apocalypse. Why cling to old statuses now? Curses flew openly.
"At this point, abandon them."
"We can't go down with them."
Radical agents even proposed a loyalist coup to Kim Su-ho. They were that disappointed in their antics; Korea deserved to fall and be reborn under a new government.
Their view: Korea's lifespan ended—rebirth as a new nation to vitalize survival.
"No, we can't. Aren't they Korean citizens too? If I persuade them earnestly, they'll come around eventually."
"You think that's possible?"
"I'll try."
But no matter how tough, a coup wasn't right, Kim Su-ho said, halting their momentum. Violence couldn't be justified—that was his stance.