77. Alliance (2)
The alliance between the Balhut Cult and the United States! In exchange for America's vast food resources and reconstruction materials, the cult would trade weapons forged from Bahamut coins.
But one question might arise here. Why would America—boasting the world's top military might and even nuclear weapons, humanity's strongest creation—choose these Bahamut Bullets as payment?
Honestly, the cult's weapons excelled in efficiency from limited resources, but America's arsenal could easily replicate the firepower of a Bahamut Bullet.
"But... America has its proud weapons. Is there really any need to take Bahamut Bullets as trade payment?"
"We can't use those proud weapons of yours in our own cities."
"Ah."
The reason was brutally simple. They couldn't turn America's mighty weapons on American cities.
That was why democratic governments had dithered through this apocalypse—they couldn't destroy their own cities, especially capitals packed with infrastructure, with their own hands.
Korea might have quelled the zombie outbreak if it had sacrificed and unleashed its hard-developed superweapons, turning Seoul into a sea of fire. But they couldn't.
"It's no different from suicide. National retreat—no, civilizational collapse. Pointing weapons meant to protect citizens at the citizens and cities themselves? Can that truly be called a government? It would erase the very reason democratic governments exist, and all the authority they've built would crumble to dust."
As Steven said, democratic governments couldn't choose that path. They probably hadn't even considered it. It would mean abandoning the ideological foundation for ruling their nations with their own hands.
By forfeiting the reason to be a government, the contradiction would cause inevitable collapse.
Right. Losing central authority would just accelerate state independence.
Yet by failing to demonstrate overwhelming force and violence, America now faced the dire trial of fragmentation. The White House, without showing strength, was losing control over the states. Some states brazenly declared independence on the sly, only to slink back when export routes closed, like prodigal sons returning.
If this negotiation—and others—could secure the White House's authority and prestige, it would send a massive warning to the seceding states.
"I understand that. But aside from those heavy weapons, surely personal firearms would suffice?"
"Haha. At times like this, I'll just say we're curious about the weapons developed in this apocalypse."
The Americans were already intrigued by the Balhut Cult's weapons.
"Especially awakener-exclusive weapons handcrafted by someone with the blacksmith skill. We've been quite interested."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. Special enemies that only respond to mana attacks have appeared in America, ones our conventional weapons can't touch."
"That's frightening."
They weren't just interested in awakener-forged arms; new enemies impervious to normal guns had emerged on the American continent. Lee Hyun-ah glanced at Steven with a hint of fear at the thought of such foes.
Gradually, enemies immune to human-made weapons were appearing. Mana attacks still worked, so awakeners could handle them, but the loss of reliable old guns would breed unease even in America.
"Terrifying. So you need mana-infused weapons to counter them."
"Exactly. Surprisingly, there's high anticipation back home. Could we perhaps test a Balhut Cult weapon?"
"Of course. Let me show you."
For Lee Hyun-ah, who needed America's abundant goods, guaranteeing quality and performance was a given. Steven's satisfaction would mean larger-scale purchases for the cult.
As requested, she led him to what was once Choi's Ironworks—now the Balhut Research Institute, the cult's weapons lab.
"Wow. All these artisans crafting by hand, without machines?"
Steven witnessed a single artisan meticulously working on one bullet. He shot Lee Hyun-ah a look that screamed, Are they seriously hand-making each bullet one by one?
"Yes. They won't perform at full potential unless forged by an awakener. Higher skill or levels might unlock mass production, but for now, our artisans do it manually."
"That's a shame."
Lee Hyun-ah nodded. What she didn't mention: the process wasn't entirely handmade. Machines handled casings and specs; artisans just engraved enchantments for the finish.
From the outside, though, it looked like pure handcrafting—fueling the misunderstanding.
Hmm. Labor costs must be insane. Isn't this straight-up exploitation like in some black company? Even in the apocalypse...
As Steven's eyes narrowed suspiciously, Lee Hyun-ah caught it.
"Most work uses machines. What they're doing now is the final enchantment engraving, infusing magical effects."
"Aha! Got it. Nearly misunderstood there."
To dispel any doubt, she clarified machines aided production, and that was just the finishing touch. Steven chuckled awkwardly, relieved.
"Ready for a demo test? Fresh off the line."
"Yes. Let's try it."
They reached a spacious testing ground. Lee Hyun-ah handed Steven a rifle; he aimed at the large target.
Excitement building, he fired. The bullet hit—boom—the target erupted in flames, crumbling to white ash.
"WOW. Feels like firing a cannon from a rifle. This firepower... Anna, what do you think?"
"It triggers a massive mana explosion on impact. Even a tanker shrugging off machine guns could drop fast."
"Scary stuff. Like launching rockets from a rifle."
Steven consulted Anna on the power; she confirmed the explosive mana burst threatened even tough tanks. Sweating at her grim assessment, he likened it to rockets from a standard gun.
The target's flames still raged. Even surviving the blast, the lingering fire would char anything. Steven asked Lee Hyun-ah.
"When do those flames die out?"
"Once the engraved mana depletes, they'll vanish on their own."
She glanced indifferently at the blaze.
"How long?"
"About ten seconds in combat, they say."
"Ten seconds. Short if short, long if long."
In combat, ten seconds felt eternal to Steven—enough time for flames to engulf and kill.
"In an awakener fight, one second decides life or death. Burning for ten? Might as well say 'die.'"
Surviving the hit meant enduring ten seconds of agony while fighting. No sane person could; the initial blast alone terrified most awakeners.
"But used carefully in cities, it'd be a trump card."
Such power felled monsters too. No need for tanks, missiles, or drones—rifle-portable devastation was a boon for urban warfare, sparing American cities hellish street fights. For the White House, eyeing state politics, these bullets were tempting.
"Yes. They're for powerful variant zombies. Otherwise, milder bullets. Too destructive for cities."
"Perfect for named bosses."
Lee Hyun-ah explained the cult used them against strong variants to avoid building collapses in urban ops.
"What about against awakeners normally?"
"This."
Next: a lightning-marked bullet. Loaded, Steven aimed at a human-like meat dummy target. He grimaced briefly but fired without hesitation.
The dummy convulsed wildly, then collapsed.
"The meat's twitching."
"Anti-awakener suppression round. For the occasional dimwit raider. Military calls it the lightning bullet."
"Raiders—villains in our terms."
Steven recoiled; Lee Hyun-ah calmly described it as raider control. He equated "raiders" to America's "villains."
"Come to think of it, America calls awakeners 'heroes.' Yes, we term criminal awakeners 'raiders,' so villains fits your view."
"Exactly. Same understanding—let's move on."
"Yes."
She knew their hero culture, nodding as she defined raiders as criminal awakeners. Steven confirmed alignment and proceeded.
"It generates massive voltage inside the target, paralyzing nerves. Most awakeners get fried internally on hit. A stun round for subduing stronger criminal awakeners."
"Lightning bullets are gold. Perfect for taking down villain criminals in America."
Steven nodded approvingly at her pitch. Cautiously, Lee Hyun-ah probed.
"Is crime that bad?"
"Yes. Awakener criminals are extremely dangerous. Sudden power disrupts American society—they're enemies of the state."
He declared villains America's foes, chaos agents amid survival efforts.
"Plus, it'd shut up those demanding monster rights."
"Protests like that?"
Wildest: groups claiming monsters had rights. Anti-war vibes, but with monsters seizing cities, the White House saw them as headaches.
Lee Hyun-ah's genuine shock showed; the cult viewed mountain monsters as threats too, though zombies vs. monsters kept a three-way balance.
"America has no zombies but tons of monsters. Many citizens lost, right?"
"Haha, White House ignores that noise. Protests we can fake-listen to. Problem is extremists turning terrorist—and they're awakeners, too tough for regular cops. Perfect timing for this."
Steven dismissed the ideology but noted terrorist awakeners overwhelmed police gear. Cult bullets could let normals handle them.
"Never use on civilians. Awakener-exclusive."
"Understood."
She warned sternly; he nodded compliance.
"No need to see more. All premium quality. Tailor-made for our urban fights. Right, Anna?"
"Yeah. Balhut Cult bullets are just what America needs."
Steven clapped, praising them as masterpieces. Doubt gone, he polled Anna, who closed her eyes and affirmed.
"We have blacksmith-skill awakeners too, but not this potent. Any production secrets?"
"Top-secret for the Balhut Cult."
A hitch: America had blacksmiths, but inferior products. Steven probed slyly; she brushed it off lightly.
"Figured. Won't share for free, huh?"
"Yes. At least protect our copyrights."
"Haha. You're a tough negotiator."
Bahamut made the coins, but bullet development was Choi's Ironworks—now the institute's—sweat. copyrights ensured reward, Steven grimaced at her resolve.
Reluctantly, he spoke.
"Then let's add a deal."
"Possible?"
"I'm special envoy with full authority. If this tech benefits us, buying it outright is worth it. Right, Anna?"
"...Sigh."
Empowered, he could judge; the cult accommodated them, so reciprocity fit. Bullets' power tempted anyway—no issue back home. Anna stayed neutral, watching.