45. The Road to Pohang (1)
Of course, the Balhut Cult wasn't heading out on an expedition to Pohang right away. Wars demanded extensive preparations—stockpiling supplies and weapons for the soldiers was essential. They also needed to draft operational plans for Pohang and secure a safe route there.
"There are two routes from Gyeongju to Pohang."
At present, there were two roads connecting Gyeongju to Pohang.
"The first follows the Hyongsan River upstream. Stick to the road along the river, and you'll reach Pohang. By vehicle, it'd take thirty minutes. No, without any congestion, twenty minutes would do it."
The first option was to travel up the road along the Hyongsan River. Follow it straight, and you'd hit central Pohang in no time. It was the fastest route, but...
"I'm told there are plenty of villages and towns along the way."
"Yes. You'd have to fight the zombies there. And the biggest drawback is that there's only one entry point into Pohang proper."
The problem was all those villages and towns en route, infested with zombies and variants. Unless they cleared them out in advance, any later advance would face interference, and supply lines for the operation would suffer. Worse, with only one entry road from Gyeongju into Pohang, it wasn't ideal for the Balhut Cult's goal of conquering the entire city.
"The second is the Geonpo Industrial Road. If we secure the mountain tunnels, it offers smooth supply transport for the cult."
"Is that so?"
The second route ran through the Geonpo Industrial Road's mountain tunnels to Pohang. Once the tunnels were held, the surrounding mountains meant minimal zombie encounters.
"Zombies nearby or monsters in the mountains are a concern, but the road runs straight to Pohang. Set up watchposts along it, and we can manage the supply line with our forces."
Compared to the Hyongsan River route's endless villages, this was far more efficient. And its advantages didn't stop there.
"For conquering all of Pohang, we must use the Geonpo Industrial Road. Follow it straight, and you reach the Pohang Steel Mill. Branch onto Yeongilman-daero midway, and you can hit the Hyongsan River or Pohang Airport. Three advance paths make it the central hub for our assault."
That was the key point Jeong Dong-gun raised: it could serve as the transportation nexus for the Pohang campaign. Veer from Geonpo onto Yeongilman-daero, and you'd access the Hyongsan River route; below lay the path to Pohang Airport. Straight ahead led to the steel mill. For attackers, the three-pronged Geonpo road was a must.
"Pohang outclasses Gyeongju in scale anyway. A frontal assault would be tough. Flanking via Geonpo Industrial Road is best."
Pohang's size was roughly double Gyeongju's—land, population, industry. All overwhelming. So the zombies there would number at least twice as many. In the worst case, if the whole city had turned, the enemy count would skyrocket.
"So, what's the plan for the assault?"
"We'll use an outpost to recruit local survivors in Pohang."
Jeong Dong-gun's idea was to enlist those still alive in Pohang. Fighting solo would be grueling, but local allies meant solid intel on layouts and interiors. If they were awakeners, they'd bolster the cult's forces directly, easing the burden.
"Then we need a physical link between Pohang and Gyeongju. To recruit locals easily."
"Yes. I'll lead an advance team to secure the Geonpo Industrial Road first."
"I'm counting on you."
Internet communities could work for recruitment, but in the apocalypse, few trusted online posts seriously. A few fixed-nick awakeners shared reliable info, but none in target Pohang. Even if allies existed, the Balhut Cult's name—being a cult—didn't inspire much trust. They needed to prove themselves with action, which meant physically connecting Gyeongju to Pohang.
"Whoa, tons of zombies."
"Stay sharp. This isn't safe southern Gyeongju—it's Jo Sun-do's northern turf. And Pohang's still zombie-held."
"Got it, boss."
At Choi Yu-na's order, Jeong Dong-gun assembled the cult's elite vanguard and began clearing the path to Pohang. The route from northern Gyeongju to Geonpo teemed with stray zombies. He and his soldiers methodically cut them down as they advanced.
"Man, the outside world's crawling with zombies."
"Zombie wave. A real one. Think any survivors are left in Pohang?"
They faced overwhelming numbers head-on. Using modified military trucks and buses as barricades, concentrated fire dropped the hordes—but the sheer volume awed them. Near Gyeongju, Bahamut's power had prevented such masses, so this was the cult's first large-scale clash.
"A hundred, maybe? Per skirmish?"
"Could be more."
Usually 20-30 zombies; now, 100 minimum, up to 200-300 charging. Exhausting. The soldiers sighed, glancing at their leader.
"Can twenty of us punch through to Pohang?"
"Haven't we cleared halfway already?"
The men griped about the hardship, but they'd won every clash decisively—no losses. The Balhut Cult racked up victories against zombies unscathed. Morale held firm; this trial fueled their battle spirit and confidence.
"Boss, suspicious zombie ahead."
"Variant?"
"Looks like it."
A scout's report via binoculars. Jeong Dong-gun immediately suspected a variant; the soldier confirmed, tensing.
"Anyone seeing those ripped muscles and calling it normal is blind."
"Charging?"
"Yeah... uh, yes. Spotted us. Coming straight at us with clear hostility."
The variant differed starkly from regulars—not the shambling undead trope, but grotesquely specialized. Some leaped, some brute-forced, some even commanded others. This one, muscle-bound, barreled toward the vanguard with fury.
"Load up, then. Single shots—no full auto by mistake."
"Roger."
Even a mighty variant was just target practice once spotted. The sniper loaded a special round and nailed its head. Bang. It burst like a watermelon, collapsing. He discarded the spent casing, reloaded, and fired into the torso. A massive explosion engulfed it, incinerating the surroundings.
"Solid performance."
A casing etched with fire and water lay at his feet. With the variant silenced, he retrieved it, muttering approval.
"It is. But what if a stronger variant shows? Will these rounds hold?"
Jeong Dong-gun agreed but voiced concern for tougher foes. As Bahamut feared, a powerful zombie could endanger the front lines—even if Gyeongju stayed safe. After bonding with these men over battles and meals, losses would sting.
The soldier, oblivious to his unease, grinned boldly.
"They'll work. Bahamut Bullets are invincible—firing cannon shells or water jets from a rifle!"
"True. Invincible."
Fact-based: a rifle hurling artillery blasts or high-pressure cuts. One bullet equaled massive firepower. Against zombies, they shone; specialized anti-awakener rounds existed too, rarely needed. No awakener who'd seen them in action doubted.
"But the Dragon God worries stronger zombies might appear. Rounds that fail against them."
"That's... scary."
Jeong Dong-gun nodded gravely—it was Bahamut's direct warning. Unavoidable concern. The soldier's face sobered too.
"But I believe in their potential. Not just bullets—the rifles will improve too, boosting their power."
"Music to my ears."
The Balhut Cult would overcome. Or rather, he trusted the ammo's untapped potential. Current facilities limited it, but guns and rounds would evolve. Jeong Dong-gun nodded agreement, ending the chat to scan the field.
Zombie corpses littered the ground, rotting. Only the Bahamut Bullet-struck variant blazed.
"Pile the bodies there and burn them. Clear the path for the main force."
"Ugh, hate this part."
"No choice. Left alone, they'll stink up the place. Wild animals might eat them, spawning weird variants."
Next: corpse disposal. Rotting flesh drew beasts, risking infection or mutations—unproven, but Jeong Dong-gun always incinerated them centrally. For Bahamut Bullet kills, just toss atop the burning variant. Simple, though the haulers griped.
"Winter's coming—won't they freeze?"
"Still. They were human once. Better a clean pyre than sprawled rot."
"Right."
It honored their past humanity. Zombies were once people; a simple cremation beat roadside decay.
As zombie-stink and smoke clogged noses and throats...
"Hey, soldier guys. Hard work, huh?"
Snack time arrived.
"PX! Hey, PX guy."
"Not PX—Kim Tae-hyeon!"
"But that's what you do?"
"Can't deny it..."
Not cult-provided; bought from the food truck. Soldiers eagerly awaited Kim Tae-hyeon's visits. Inside: steaming hot food, cool drinks.
"Yeah, yeah. Made you guys something tasty. Cash upfront, though."
"Tab it. Bill the cult."
"Noted."
No coins on ops, so IOUs ruled. Awakeners got good pay and perks; minor splurges didn't hurt. With no outlets amid heavy duties, the truck was mobile paradise over bland MREs.
"Road here okay?"
"Don't ask. Zombies everywhere—if I weren't awakened, I'd be toast."
"No elders, then."
"Yeah. They haven't awakened yet. Solo shift."
Jeong Dong-gun, settling in, noted only Tae-hyeon aboard and mentioned his parents. Too risky for unawakened folks; Tae-hyeon confirmed, and he nodded understanding.
"Mom and Dad handle the market stall. I fetch and sell. Expeditions are getting dicey—better secure safety early."
"Smart. Outside's a whole other world to us."
Tae-hyeon's wry smile drew a nod; beyond Gyeongju lay alien hell.
"Usual order?"
"Make it one."
Jeong Dong-gun duly requested hot fish cakes and a cool drink.