19. Balhut Cult (1)
The day of their encounter with Bahamut was later evaluated—and reminisced about—by countless survivors as the moment that sealed Gyeongju's fate.
"From this hour onward, the Balhut Cult shall commence the Gyeongju reconstruction project!"
Having absorbed and consolidated numerous survivor camps, the Balhut Cult had grown into Gyeongju's most powerful faction. And the first declaration from this meteoric rise was the launch of the Gyeongju reconstruction project—a grand civil engineering endeavor to rebuild the ruined city into something new.
This ambitious initiative drew keen interest from survivor clubs and lone wanderers who had yet to face Bahamut in person, while camps that had never even considered joining openly voiced their discomfort. But the Balhut Cult ignored all complaints and pressed ahead undeterred.
"With advice from Gyeongju's own experts, we will assuredly make this reconstruction a success."
Now the undisputed head and pontiff of the Balhut Cult, Choi Yu-na had summoned specialists from every administrative field who had survived the zombie apocalypse—per Bahamut's command. Economics, judiciary, culture, administration, construction, politics, and military. There were retired politicians, active ones, architecture professors who had taught students, and even veterans. They could be seen as the cult's handpicked elite, poured into with full effort.
Looking back now, those bastards survived this chaos pretty damn well too.
In truth, it was closer to recruiting whoever among Gyeongju's field experts had made it through alive. Those invited by Choi Yu-na caught sight of the other specialists and thought casually, Ah, familiar faces. People I know. They marveled at how these folks had endured a catastrophe on the scale of the zombie apocalypse. But the moment Choi Yu-na entered the meeting room, every face tensed as they turned to her.
Had the Balhut Cult not purged all the zombies from Gyeongju and reclaimed the city, these people would likely have been branded useless long ago.
"To fulfill the Balhut Cult's pledges, we'll need vast manpower. But with survivors flooding in all at once, we're critically short on civil servants to manage and oversee them."
"Then re-recruit those who were bureaucrats before. If that's not enough, we'll pull people from within the Balhut Cult."
They had no choice but to prove their worth—to Choi Yu-na, or rather, to Bahamut watching this scene—not just their usefulness, but their full capabilities. For these individuals, fresh memories of being discarded in the apocalypse's harsh grip made the Balhut Cult their lifeline, a guarantor of survival snatched from the jaws of death.
Lee Su-ah, now an administrative bureaucrat of the cult, reported her findings with desperate resolve, pointing out issues one by one.
"Zombies are gone from the city proper, but hordes still approach from outside. Plus, we need a security force to crack down on internal criminals and troops to liberate nearby villages on the outskirts."
"We'll form units of Awakened. Jeong Dong-gun, please select personnel for military and police roles."
"Understood, Yu-na."
Some burned with desperation to prove themselves; others exuded calm confidence. Jeong Dong-gun, with his proven track record of dominating survivor camps, addressed Choi Yu-na with far more composure than Lee Su-ah, boldly stating what was needed. His points were spot-on necessities, so Choi Yu-na nodded and pledged support for his policies.
Bahamut's descent had wiped out the zombies inside the city, but external hordes, internal security, and liberating zombie-overrun villages still demanded troops. Above all...
"What of the survivor camps that haven't joined us?"
"No movements yet. Our staff predicts they'll follow the Balhut Cult's lead."
"Good work. Keep a close eye on them going forward."
"Yes, ma'am."
Not every camp had submitted to the Balhut Cult. They publicly claimed neutrality, and as long as they didn't attack, the cult had no intention of striking first—especially with Bahamut's orders emphasizing dialogue and diplomacy. Thus, the cult's only military option was surveillance.
"Drafting new laws will take time, so we'll need interim statutes for the reconstruction period."
Next up was Hwang Seung-man, the judicial bureaucrat tasked with the cult's legal affairs. He proposed temporary laws to bridge the gap until apocalypse-suited legislation could be crafted.
"Interim laws?"
"Punishing based on pre-apocalypse statutes during reconstruction would breed chaos and injustices. So we'll scrap all existing laws and enact three temporary ones."
Hwang Seung-man argued that applying South Korea's old laws verbatim would cause uproar, as acts once major crimes were now everyday occurrences in the apocalypse. Scrapping them for three interim laws made sense.
"First, murderers face severe punishment. Second, those who injure others get light punishment. Third, thieves get minor punishment. Those who obey these three shall be protected in the name of the new god Bahamut."
"That sufficient?"
Hwang Seung-man recited what was commonly known as the Three Governing Laws. Bluntly compared to modern law, they seemed crude.
"Yes, for now. These are just for reconstruction; post-rebuild laws will be different."
"Understood. We'll implement the three interim laws per your recommendation. Next..."
The zombie apocalypse wasn't over—it was ongoing. Gyeongju's internals were cleared, but external threats lingered amid reconstruction frenzy. Simplifying laws until resolved was Hwang Seung-man's stance.
"Us."
Whoa, hard to believe those two are teaming up.
The next presenters were politics and society experts. At Choi Yu-na's cue, two men shot their hands up together. The other bureaucrats gaped at the rare sight of them rising in tandem.
"Hwang Geun-chul."
"Park Cheol-gon."
They hailed from factions with opposing ideologies and tendencies. Pre-apocalypse, they'd clashed in extreme left-right conflicts. Now, like forming a grand coalition, they linked arms in unity. Of course, fracturing over ideology at this point would be absurd. But to bureaucrats accustomed to the media's portrayal of their bitter divides, this alliance felt off-putting.
I get it, man...
They truly seemed an ill-matched pair—and they knew it, facing the stares.
"First, the cult needs defined positions. Clear authority, responsibilities for commanding others, and a restructured org chart."
"Then ranks—by duty hierarchy, or task type and difficulty."
"Finally, statuses. Firm internal hierarchy for true efficiency."
Positions, ranks, statuses—the trio essential for the Balhut Cult. Choi Yu-na frowned, pondering.
How do I respond to this?
Bahamut's roadmap didn't cover it.
Before the meeting, she'd received a tailored notebook from Bahamut, letting her hold her own against these so-called elites. But politics—ranks specifically—threw her off-script. At 16, with zero real-world experience beyond schoolteachers, Choi Yu-na's options were limited.
"...I'll entrust that to Hwang Geun-chul and Park Cheol-gon."
She delegated to the experts, since she couldn't critique. Yet she maintained a poised, majestic air akin to her dragon lord, bluffing impressively before the cadre.
"Understood."
"Leave it to us."
Her ploy worked; they smiled faintly, bowing politely. They'd earned the pontiff's trust with their pitch, they figured.
Of course...
This'll kick off my political career in the Balhut Cult.
No dark betrayal brewed. Gyeongju's power was the Balhut Cult and its god Bahamut; the politicians foresaw their momentum lasting. With a dragon, war's unwinnable. This is the winning thread!
Craving survival and high office, they wished the cult eternal dominance as Korea's new standard-bearer. Unbeatable in battle with Bahamut, they'd climb high, wield power luxuriously.
Here, even prime minister's possible!
Yes... they eyed the cult's premiership. As minor provincial lawmakers unlinked to the central assembly, their ambitions burned for the top.
"How's reconstruction progressing?"
Leaving the schemers, Choi Yu-na turned to architecture professor Yu Su-seong's report.
"On the Gyeongju reconstruction: no issues so far. We're demolishing collapsed or stench-ridden ruins swiftly, repairing the viable ones to make them livable ASAP."
"With your skills, how long?"
Yu Su-seong, an Awakener, had gained construction and crafting skills—bonuses to building and tool-making speed. A normal Awakener might erect one structure daily; he did multiples faster, more efficiently.
"Even with mine, restoring pre-apocalypse life for our registered numbers needs at least 20 days. Demolition, debris cleanup... more than expected."
Even with skills, normalcy was grueling. The city lay zombie-ravaged; rebuilding demanded hordes of labor.
"Luckily, core infrastructure—power, sewers—is intact. Proper maintenance means city-wide electricity and water. Of course, until then, we rely on Bahamut."
"Bahamut promised full support. The intact basics are hopeful; rebuild infrastructure atop them for pre-disaster life..."
"But gas and fuel... Nearby stations yielded some, but pre-apocalypse consumption would exhaust it fast."
"...We need alternative energy sources."
Normalcy was elusive. Water and power solvable, but gas and vehicle fuel? Gyeongju lacked sources; stockpiles would vanish, crippling oil/gas machines.
"Yes. Bahamut provides unlimited pure water and electricity for appliances/EVs, but gas and oil elude even him."
"We'll devise measures."
Sensing fuel woes ahead, Choi Yu-na eyed the final bureaucrat.
"Lastly... Lee Hyun-ah."
"Yes. Economic bureaucrat Lee Hyun-ah."
Unlike her mild-eyed sister, she was a sharp-gazed career woman in crisp secretary attire.
"The Balhut Cult needs currency now."
Lee Hyun-ah asserted the need for money to fuel economic activity.