52. Meeting (1)
A post appeared on the Balhut Cult community site, believed to be from a Pohang survivor camp. It was on a special board created just for this day, accessible only by entering a specific password, so it couldn't have been some random troll post. To know that post's password, you'd have to get it from the supplies scattered at the Steel Industrial Complex Three-way Intersection. In other words, this post was almost certainly from someone at the Pohang University camp nearby.
The post was emotionless, stating only the bare essentials, but to the Balhut Cult, it marked the first step toward conquering Pohang. They'd made contact with one of the three survivor camps dividing the city.
"Pohang is split into three major factions. The Pohang University camp where that post likely came from, the one across the Hyongsan River to the north, and the navy centered around the port."
"Unlike Gyeongju, divided into south and north, it's three factions. About what we expected. The navy survived since they could flee by sea."
"If luck's on our side, we might claim Pohang's navy." Son Sang-hee explained the three-way split—different from Gyeongju—and Choi Yu-na's expression shifted subtly at the mention of the navy still holding out. Jeong Dong-gun advised that if the navy had survived, the Balhut Cult could bring them in.
"Would the navy really follow us, given our reputation?"
"Ah."
Unlike in Gyeongju, Yu-na's face clouded with worry—she'd felt firsthand how poor the Balhut Cult's external reputation was. Jeong Dong-gun seemed to regret his slip too.
"Excluding those three, are there any mid-sized factions worth mentioning?"
Still, for the troops' safety, he had to confirm everything. He kept questioning Son Sang-hee, who was advising on Pohang from beside him.
"A camp nearly as big as the three majors almost formed at Pohang Airport around Priestess Baek Seol-hwa, but it fell apart when she went missing. Looking back, that's probably when the mutant spider zombies showed up. No other notable factions come to mind."
"So, along Yeongil Bay, there are just scattered small-to-mid survivor camps, not anything major?"
"Yes. I was there too but couldn't hold out and fled here."
There had been a major force at Pohang Airport, but it collapsed—regrettably. Son Sang-hee figured mutant spider zombies devoured them around then.
If true, advancing via Yeongil Bay Road meant no major ally, but...
"Perfect for recruiting as subordinate factions under the Cult."
"Yes."
"Huh?"
On the flip side, those manageable mid-sized groups were prime targets for the Balhut Cult to absorb—delicious tonics... no, forces they could lead in partnership. To rule Pohang, the Cult needed proxies to exert influence. A major like the one Son Sang-hee mentioned would help conquer but likely demand heavy compensation or control. If they sought fair pay like Jo Sun-do but justly, the Cult couldn't refuse. Thus, they needed a champion to handle such figures.
"First, let's handle the meeting. So, Park Cheol-gon and Hwang Geun-chul..."
No. Jeong Dong-gun would be better than those two.
"Bahamut?"
Yu-na was about to pick the two politicians for the crucial meeting, but Bahamut designated Jeong Dong-gun first. Surprised he'd speak up, Yu-na and Jeong Dong-gun focused intently.
"Eh? Where's that deep voice coming from?"
Son Sang-hee trembled at the sudden baritone in the tent with just three people. It wasn't a prank from outside. A ghost? She seriously pondered as...
Originally, I'd have sent Park Cheol-gon or Hwang Geun-chul as Yu-na thought. But on reflection, at this stage, a soldier who can showcase the Cult's might fits better than a politician.
"Indeed. Bahamut says so."
"True enough. Can't argue with that."
The unidentified voice—Bahamut—explained in detail. In an apocalyptic disaster, to seize meeting initiative, flaunt power with a soldier, not politics. Yu-na and Jeong Dong-gun agreed. Sending relatively weak Park Cheol-gon or Hwang Geun-chul to unknowns was risky—they could be taken hostage. Jeong Dong-gun, who could defend himself, had to go.
Grant him full authority. Lead them to cooperate with the Cult.
"By your command."
"Uh... what?"
Jeong Dong-gun bowed without hesitation at Bahamut's grant of full authority. Only Son Sang-hee glanced around, lost.
...Does he need to phrase it so grandly?
"It's a fine word, isn't it?"
...Fair point!
Bahamut quietly ribbed Jeong Dong-gun's "by your command," but got an irrefutable retort. It was, in a way, every man's dream phrase.
The meeting spot was set at the Steel Industrial Complex Three-way Intersection—chosen with the university camp's approach in mind. Plus, the Balhut Cult had cleared zombies nearby, making it relatively safe.
"You're the soldier who liberated this intersection?"
"Yes. Jeong Dong-gun."
"I'm Ha Jin-woo, the representative."
Jeong Dong-gun set up the table and tent first. Soon, a few from the university camp arrived via the road— a professor-looking man and some students. The professor, camp rep, took the lead in talking.
They're in rough shape.
Grimy faces, greasy hair everywhere, but Jeong Dong-gun looked away. No need to scold; in the apocalypse, this was decent.
"Suspicious. That's not digital camo."
"You really Republic of Korea military?"
Still, they pointed out his navy uniform, not standard digital camo. They knew ROK troops wore digital, so suspicion arose.
"Yes, suspicious indeed. Can't deny it. Truth is, I'm not Republic of Korea military. I'm Balhut Cult military."
Judging no gain in deceit, Jeong Dong-gun was frank. The camp reacted variably to his admission.
The most heated: "Balhut Cult... the cult from Gyeongju?"
"Yes. From Gyeongju."
"That cult isn't satisfied with Gyeongju and eyes Pohang now?"
Calling it a cult, Ha Jin-woo sternly accused them of greed.
"Could be. But you know surviving this harsh world on Gyeongju alone is tough, right?"
"Hrrm."
Fact. Gyeongju's resources and industry were limited; the Cult, having pacified it, had to expand—targeting Pohang's vital steel.
"Our motto is simple: Attack Pohang, save our kin. Different camps now, but we're all Republic of Korea citizens, neighbors. What's wrong with rescuing fellow countrymen?"
"Fair point."
The Cult were citizens too. Once neighbors, why not help? Logic landed; Ha Jin-woo and students nodded gravely. Sensing persuasion, Jeong Dong-gun pressed.
"We won't force our doctrine on Pohang. Our leader says so too."
They'd proselytized early on, but as Gyeongju's government, no more. Bahamut opposed his own idolization, proclaimed religious freedom—no aggressive conversion. So Jeong Dong-gun promised easily.
"And you're feeling supply shortages, aren't you?"
"...We think we're fine still."
He cited supplies as reason to ally. They claimed sufficiency—bluff or truth?—but he listed what he'd seen en route.
"No. Coming here, I saw even outer Pohang farms unharvested. Harvest season's long past. Miss those unrotted crops now, and in a month, even edibles freeze solid."
"Ugh!"
Cities had limits. Four months in, autumn turning winter—harsh Korean cold. His words rang true.
"But we have rice from abandoned farms, purified water, canned tuna, ramen, kimchi—plenty for you."
"Really!?"
Some warmed at food promise. In apocalypse, food was leverage; he wielded it well.
"Hrrm!"
Even skeptics perked. Seizing the moment, he piled proof.
"Yes. You recovered what we dropped here—know how much?"
"Y-Yes."
They'd gained from it, allying already; couldn't deny abundance. Precious supplies lavished for contact.
"Each drop: enough for a family of four, two full days' meals. Plenty."
Generous drops, repeatedly. Stretched, three days. It eased their hunger.
"Bits make mountains. Giving it to you proves room for deals, no?"
"What do you want, then?"
Why lure with valuables? What gain?
"Trust."
Jeong Dong-gun said trust.
"Your belief we can conquer Pohang."
If Bahamut descends, it's over. He skipped that, confident.