Serabeol's Bizarre Days (1)
Even as Bahamut engages in countless exchanges abroad, we can't overlook the internal affairs of the Balhut Cult. While he's preoccupied with dealings involving Alicia or the Phoenix Cult, the Balhut Cult—no, Serabeol—has begun taking shape as a true nation under the Dragon Priestess Choi Yu-na and the cabinet that follows her.
Naturally, they're elevating provisional government bodies to full-fledged status, reviving all sorts of agencies that weren't urgently needed before and thus hadn't been stood up. They're gearing up to handle every function of a proper country.
To stand against the apocalypse, new growth and vitality are starting to overflow. Serabeol is ready for a fresh era ahead, one bursting with nothing but smiles...
"I hate humans!"
Sorry. Yeah, it's way too soon to call it a happy ending just because the nation's been founded—Serabeol's got far too many internal headaches for that, doesn't it? Fine, enough with the rosy portrayal. If I had to sum up Serabeol's real situation in one word...
A total shitshow.
"What the hell's it this time?"
Kim Tae-hyeon—who started with a humble food truck, ran what passed for a small business before the end times, and now owns something that qualifies as a major corporation post-apocalypse—felt it quickest of all. Sure, he got the buzz in the private sector from Serabeol's founding. A livelier market meant more money-making chances for a business owner like him, and his core gig, transportation and logistics, stood to boom again.
But his face soured after Serabeol's official birth.
"Too damn many assholes muscling in on my turf."
"Eh, that's just how it goes when a business blows up. Competitors piling on is normal. Hell, the fact you had zero till now was the real miracle."
It wasn't some anti-monopoly push from guilds checking Kim Tae-hyeon's transport dominance. Nah—word got out he was killing it in logistics, so folks started thinking, Wait, is this gig actually a goldmine? Next thing you know, everyone's diving in. The ones kicking off with food trucks like he did? Cute amateurs. But full-on guilds were betting their survival on it, lives on the line. Hell, even outfits calling themselves "corporations" swarmed in like piranhas, gunning for his shares.
"Fucking mercenaries. Won't join the army but happy to play lapdog for guilds and corps."
"Eh, who likes the draft? Universal hatred. 'Specially here—no warlord games like other spots. Army looks boring by comparison."
"That's the problem."
Pre-apocalypse companies pulling this? He'd call 'em dirty bastards and move on, no hard feelings. But these weren't your standard guilds or firms. These were sword-swinging mercenary packs—bandits with business cards. Honest Serabeol citizen Kim Tae-hyeon had zero recourse when they straight-up threatened to carve out his shares. And thanks to their "stellar" performance, his mainstay business turned red ocean overnight. Any scraps of equity? Long gone.
"Goddamn it! If you mercs wanna play soldier-boy so bad, help the army!"
He vented bitterly at the self-styled mercs' antics, dying to yell at them to back the military. But...
"Then no looting."
"Shit!"
From the mercs' view, army life had zero perks. Looting's just apocalypse normal, but Serabeol's troops cracked down hard. No side hustle? They cooked up independent outfits to maximize gains, skipping military ties altogether. First step: guilds and corps. It worked—they're entrenched in private biz now.
Somewhat inevitable, really. Balhut Cult tracked awakeners via the Awakener Project, births and numbers locked down. But wrangling wild ones who powered up zombie-slaying on their own? Info shortage. Now as Serabeol, policy's hands-off: pay taxes faithfully, no rebellion, no trouble? We ignore you. Emergencies? Conscript 'em as disposable combat power. Discipline's trash, but damn good cannon fodder.
"So... sticking with logistics?"
With Serabeol turning a blind eye as the merc boom swelled—and Kim Tae-hyeon facing it solo...
"I lost. Fuck it. Folded. Done."
He threw in the towel, resolved to shutter everything. Not ditching the Kim Tae-hyeon Company brand outright—just pivoting from transport as the core gig.
"Ditched logistics for good, huh?"
"Yeah. Mercs running wild. Why's their industry's exploding? Winter was pure red ocean."
Kim Tae-hyeon sighed wistfully at Kang Jae-wan's question, baffled at the merc surge. Last winter through February? Market was iced solid, deader than dead.
Left like that, mercs would've vanished without a comeback shot. But...
"Monsters showed up again."
"The hell? Thought the cold wiped 'em?"
Korea's brutal weather was supposed to have exterminated them, but with monsters back, civilians needed muscle. Merc industry boomed naturally. Issue? Where'd the "extinct" bastards spawn from?
"'Bout April. They bred successfully. Figured total wipeout, but nope—settled in. Tough sons of bitches."
"Fuuuck!"
Winter survivors bred, numbers swelled. Mercs are armed gangs; legal outlet for that firepower? Boom by basic economics. Hunting monsters leveled 'em up, fueling aggressive expansion—bodyguarding, corp security. Market share growing.
"But bound to happen. Cities get protection, rural farms? Not always. Starving new-bred monsters gotta raid for chow."
Monsters validated mercs' existence. Farms couldn't count on Serabeol 24/7, hired mercs for safety. Demand birthed the revival.
But here's the rub: "Farm guards all bailed for merc work."
"Can't argue."
Bluntly? That talent belonged in uniform. Dodging the draft for merc life starved the army worse. Police split-off lately? Shortage squared.
"Bahamut's grace and they skip the army! What the hell's Prime Minister Hwang Geun-chul doing?!"
"Beats me."
Even zombie-hunter naturals bucked Serabeol orders. Project awakeners skip undead hunts, awaken easy—but won't serve. Thanks for the power-up, sure. Still wanna live my life, my way.
"Nitpick us, we're same. Honest? Hate the army."
"Hey! We pay fat taxes, volunteer private support. We do!"
Bottom line: draft-dodging. Every Korean guy—or any enlistment-age youth—gets it. Even serving? Gimme cushy desk or civvie service, not bleeding youth on undead frontline hell.
"Next hustle? I'll plug it—cough up ad dough."
"Whoa, trash hack straight-up shaking me down. Backdoor ad! Dragon Priestess walks by, we're dead!"
Kang Jae-wan dropped the gloomy Serabeol undertones, prying on the next venture while demanding promo cash outright. Kim Tae-hyeon dubbed him hack, hollered like summoning neighbors in an empty street—pure ribbing.
"Priestess is slammed. Join our dumb chit-chat?"
"Fair... Food world's your jam, so probably production again."
Kang grinned, Priestess nowhere nearby. Kim scratched his head at the look, admitting he'd bet big on food biz he knew cold.
"Factory play?"
"Bento plant's old news. Going full throttle now."
Army supply runs meant factories from day one. Snagged Pohang gear cheap, built up. Processed endless US imports, shipped to troops and civvies.
Now, aggressive factory push as new core.
"Food, huh... US floods keep us stocked, but domestics? Dying to cheap imports, losing edge."
"Domestic crops? Rare as hen's teeth!"
Kang nodded approval, flagged fresh woes: bargain US goods crushing local industry. US ties poured wealth, but locals faded. Only flawless US factories ran; market takeover natural. Let it ride? Domestics extinct, self-reliance gone. Time for homegrown push, cut US reliance.
"Perfect timing—Serabeol's developing Hyongsan River area. Getting on that list."
Serabeol knew, targeting granary lands by the river to wean off US. Post-winter thaw? Spot-on. Kim riding the investment wave.
To which...
"...Y'know, you strike me less merchant, more gov cheerleader. Real traders'd scheme to fleece the state."
"Can't argue."
Kang pegged him Serabeol booster over profiteer.
"Yu-na saved my family and me. Dare bite that hand?"
They owed her their lives.
"...Serabeol's crawling with ingrates."
"Exactly the problem!"
Saved their asses, and already? Ungrateful pricks everywhere. Kim Tae-hyeon could only sigh at the social rot festering inside Serabeol right now.