196. North Korea (2)
But every policy, naturally, came with its side effects. North Korea was no exception, and within Pyongyang itself—now complicit in the regime's crimes—a faction of young elites openly rebelled against the Kim family.
"How can such a bastard truly be called our Leader? How can he claim to be the nation's guide? It makes no sense!"
Contrary to the provincial prejudice that painted all of Pyongyang as a cesspool of self-serving scum, even a dictatorship like theirs had its share of true believers among the party members in the halls of power. These were the ones burning with genuine patriotism, dedicated to serving the people and forging a better nation—idealists bound by a fierce sense of duty, or hot-blooded young party cadres easy enough to find. They were the real elite, who had immersed themselves in study to strengthen this nation called North Korea. And because of that, they had come to realize the bitter truth: everything they had learned was a lie.
To these conviction-driven rebels, the Kim family might as well have been faithless dogs, abandoning every duty of a Leader. Logically speaking, could any nation's representative in their right mind abandon the provinces to total slaughter just to save one capital city?
"The Kim family is no longer our Leader!"
"Reactionaries! They're reactionaries!"
Thus, it was these very souls in Pyongyang who rose first against the Kims, sparking a coup before anyone else.
"Vanguard! Vanguard!"
"Oh heavens! Why do you inflict such trials upon us North Koreans?"
From the regime's perspective, however, these were the true traitors, the ones plotting its downfall. That's why they had to be crushed with unmatched brutality—a warning to all of Pyongyang not to defy them. To preserve the sacred myth of the Paektu bloodline, these rebels had to be branded enemies of the people, whether they were or not. The regime had no choice but to declare it so.
"I can't take it anymore! The Kim family has no right to rule North Korea!"
Yet their uprising wasn't entirely futile. One by one, the seeds of revolution they planted took root in hearts across the land. Centered on the young elites, deserters began slipping away from the regime and Pyongyang without orders. It started small, of course—barely a ripple.
"Does only Pyongyang have the right to rule North Korea? Of course not! There are places anywhere outside the capital where we can raise our own power!"
"Right! Let's head to Sinuiju!"
To resist the Kims, countless elites fled Pyongyang for provincial cities. The destination drawing the most was none other than Sinuiju—the gateway city handling North Korea's economy and bordering China. Even though the Kim regime had thrown open the Yalu River border, turning Sinuiju into hell itself, its geographic advantage was an irrefutable boon. And despite the river's breach, warlord factions and survivors still held out there, which helped too.
"Sinuiju is a land of opportunity! We can still trade with surviving Chinese forces, using that as a foundation to build our strength!"
In short, they saw it as prime ground to topple the Pyongyang regime through ties with China. Above all, in this apocalypse where maximizing an Awakener's power was key, a hellhole like Sinuiju could forge the blade to slay that regime. They planned to hone their abilities against undead hordes from China, steeling themselves for the challenge.
Before the end times, it would have sounded insane. But in this apocalypse, Awakeners grew stronger by winning battles and surviving. Those on the front lines naturally outleveled their rear-echelon counterparts, with superior skills to boot.
"These warlords lack the talent to stand alone! Even if they have some ability, they have no strategists! No vision for the future!"
That's why these elites believed it was time for them to step up. The warlords of Sinuiju boasted higher levels and quality after a year of strife than Awakeners anywhere else in North Korea, including Pyongyang. But they were just exceptional fighters—uneducated, lacking the training for true independence or long-term planning.
"Let me devise strategies for you!"
With that pitch, elites fleeing the Kims often slotted in as strategists for local warlords. They knew starting from scratch as latecomers would invite suppression from established powers, leading to quick annihilation. From the warlords' side, an intellectual volunteering service from the heavens? They welcomed it with open arms.
"Uh... comrades? For us? You'll think up strategies? For real?"
"What's so strange about that?"
"No, it's just... did I do some good deed somewhere? The heavens I cursed so much are finally smiling on me?"
From the warlords' view, it was like a miracle gift dropping from the sky—Pyongyang elites, whom they'd never even glimpsed before the apocalypse, throwing in their lot as advisors. Suddenly, they had brains for situational analysis.
The elites from heaven bowing their heads to scum like me!
These warlords had grown strong enough to form bands, but never into true powers rivaling Pyongyang. Why? Because they were poor, uneducated masses, victims of the regime's policy of keeping the populace ignorant. Without proper schooling, they lacked the logic or rhetoric to persuade local survivors—stuck maintaining the status quo.
But with the elites' arrival, everything changed.
"Listen up, everyone! Pyongyang's abandoning us right now! The Leader—no, that piggish Kim family—is scheming to exploit us for their own survival! You all know they never acted for North Korea, only themselves. But now they've dropped even the pretense, herding us straight into the undead's jaws! They're after our lives!"
First came the gift of eloquence to sway the masses. The elites stirred up provincial resentment against the Kims, folding locals into the warlords' forces.
"Can you people stomach such outrage? Can you let that vile pig steal your lives without a fight? I can't! That's why I threw away my guaranteed position and wealth in Pyongyang to come to Sinuiju—for you!"
Their logic was simple: inflame the present reality, confess as class traitors, empathize with the crowd's plight and rage.
"So to shatter this reality, I beg your precious vote for my lord! He has a vision to turn Sinuiju into a new paradise! Some of you might doubt, thinking he's just another Kim—his actions no different. I get it. I truly regret those suspicions! Let me bow my head here and apologize!"
Unlike the Pyongyang regime's endless "serve the party first" mantra,
"But unlike the incompetent Kims, who couldn't deliver meat soup to the people for decades, my lord will build a nation where you eat it once a day, like in the South!"
They peddled populism to rally the masses. Candidly, one might ask what set it apart from the Kims' rhetoric—empty, provocative promises no one could guarantee.
"We'll support you!"
"We're in too!"
But to North Koreans long tortured by Kim dictatorship, it was an irresistible drug. The young elites scratched exactly where it itched: fiery agitation, sincere apologies in words, and "realistic" pledges. In this apocalypse, who could refuse a path to survival?
"This is solid, right!?"
"Yes. If we leverage Sinuiju's geography as a gateway, we can trade with China—and South Korea too."
And it wasn't baseless rabble-rousing. They devised plans to exploit Sinuiju's position for trade with China and South Korea, normalizing North Korea's wrecked economy. Markets were key, of course.
"We'll need to negotiate with Chinese warlords, but don't worry. The guanxi network linking to China is still intact."
"Guanxi? That's reliable! But can that network really function now?"
"Don't fret."
They had ironclad guanxi networks, using them to tap Chinese markets. South Korea would follow via Beijing routes to Seoul, they figured. Thus, the regime's elite exodus cut deep, birthing new powers to end it—with their own hands.
And contrary to Pyongyang's expectations,
"Kings are already crowning themselves across China."
A year on, China too was shaking off apocalypse shock, teetering into warlord fragmentation. Its lords all styled themselves kings, staking claims as regional overlords.