Political Statement (1)
“Hmm, I figured as much. Whose request is it?”
Yoo Seo-kyeong said that while glancing at Yoo Wol-ryeong. She already seemed to have pegged Yoo Wol-ryeong as Ju Kang-rim’s backer.
“I had a feeling from the moment you, who should’ve been prepping for college entrance exams, suddenly knew all about the Awakener Management Act and pushed me to support it. Like, oh, some bastard’s trying to pressure me through my son to boost their poll numbers. If my kid publicly backs the bill during election season, it’ll drag me down.”
Yoo Seo-kyeong rose calmly from her seat as she spoke.
“Sorry, but no dice. I’m not supporting it, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t voice an opinion. The party line’s already set.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“My thinking was too narrow. I figured Mom would take the easy path. But... that bill’s gonna pass anyway. Maybe not exactly as you think, but close enough.”
Ju Kang-rim shrugged.
Yoo Seo-kyeong furrowed her brow.
“That rabid, rampaging tiger of a bill’s getting through?”
Ju Kang-rim nodded. Yoo Seo-kyeong probably thought she’d blocked it with her resistance, but reality was different. The outcome was already locked in. No amount of lawmakers mumbling half-assed agreements could stop it.
Because the Awakener Management Act draft would become a transnational “rule” binding humanity together until the bitter end of extinction. It wasn’t just Korea—this was happening worldwide, simultaneously. Decided by the VIPs, the immortals who ran the whole damn world.
In a situation where the tide had turned irreversibly, Korea couldn’t escape alone. Better to ride the wave than get swept under it.
“Mom, think about it. What do you do if there’s a rampaging tiger loose in your house?”
“Siberian tiger or Bengal?”
“...Is that really the point?”
“It matters. Those are the ones our zoos mainly keep. The only ones that could plausibly break into my house.”
Yoo Seo-kyeong ticked off her fingers as she explained.
“Unlike Bengals, Siberian tigers are endangered. And they’re also called Baekdu Mountain tigers, so they’ve got fans. Poll numbers could tank if I go after one.”
“So you’d put down a Bengal?”
“Anyway, species aside—if you’ve gotta live with a tiger, don’t lie under it. Climb on top.”
Yoo Seo-kyeong narrowed her eyes at Ju Kang-rim.
“Ride the tiger?”
“You’re not totally against managing awakeners, right?”
Awakeners were still subjects of study and suspicion, but everyone knew they’d be a major pillar in the chaotic future ahead. Yoo Seo-kyeong just opposed the current bill because it focused too much on exploiting them.
“Ungoverned awakeners are already leaking out through crime syndicates and foreign brokers left and right. Just opposing it as a bad law means missing chances to compromise.”
“So, accept it?”
“Ride the tiger. You’re a key opposition figure right now, so your voice carries weight. Compromise where you can, fight where you must, and improve the bill.”
Yoo Seo-kyeong wasn’t foolish. She’d probably already mapped out her compromise line internally. The bill’s sponsors were just too hardline, forcing her hand. By her standards, it was utterly intolerable. But she knew unstoppable tides existed. Charging head-on left you with nothing but broken roots. To keep your principles, you had to bend.
“Why say it’ll pass anyway? How do you know?”
He couldn’t say he’d seen the future. He’d initially thought, just support it and let it through, Mom. But picking a fight between the Vito family and Gerald changed his mind. He needed someone he could influence holding the reins on this bill.
“I got a job. Working for a high-up on commission, so I hear and see things.”
“Samdo Group? Seemed like just a mid-tier 50s-rank company.”
She knew that much, but not the real identity behind Samdo Group.
“Son, I love you, but betting my career, patriotism, and—above all—poll numbers on your word alone? The party would brand me a traitor. My political life’s on the line.”
“You want solid proof.”
“Smart enough to make me doubt you’re really my kid. Yeah.”
Yoo Seo-kyeong crossed her arms, mumbling thoughtfully.
“One thing’s sure: it won’t pass as is. And negotiation seems unlikely...”
“Because of Congressman Park Tae-hyeon?”
Her eyebrows shot up. You know that far? But she’d given up prying how Ju Kang-rim knew so much.
Park Tae-hyeon, third-term congressman for the opposition Democratic Party. A nagging thorn in Yoo Seo-kyeong’s side, tied by bizarre bad blood. They always shared districts, fixated on the same issues, but proposed polar-opposite solutions.
Coincidentally, Ju Kang-rim knew Park Tae-hyeon inside out: food prefs, booze, women, clothes—even his backers and puppet masters.
“Eh, don’t worry about that guy.”
Ju Kang-rim tugged the dog’s leash.
“Just patriot quietly, Mom. Let someone else punch for country.”
“What’re you gonna do?”
Yoo Seo-kyeong grimaced.
“You’ve changed so much while I wasn’t looking, Kang-rim.”
“Feels like a stranger, huh? Kids grow up when parents aren’t watching.”
“Nah, proves you’re mine—you’re turning into me.”
Ju Kang-rim grimaced at that. Turning into Mom? An insult. But he couldn’t deny he’d taken after her.
“I don’t wanna play politics like you, though.”
“What’re you talking about? You’re already deep in it.”
Yoo Seo-kyeong grinned.
“Making a very active political statement, even.”
Ju Kang-rim returned to the hotel in Sejong City and handed off the dog. Samdo Renaissance Hotel had a branch there too. Staff, already notified, took the dog smoothly to his room.
No rest—he headed out immediately.
“Worried we’re stirring up needless complications?”
Yoo Wol-ryeong spoke while driving. Ju Kang-rim found it unexpected.
“Politics?”
“Our status makes meddling in state affairs feel... iffy.”
Status? Then it hit him—grim reapers were basically civil servants. Didn’t click for him, but clearly huge for her.
“Sure, a public servant dictating policy’s problematic on paper. But this isn’t complicating things. It’s the shortest, fastest path.”
“Dipping into politics?”
“I’m not delusional enough to think I can knife every immortal worldwide.”
Ju Kang-rim replied cynically.
“No plans to hack at their tough hides forever. World’d end first. Best if they kill each other. If not, drag it to the surface at least.”
“But by the rules...”
“By the rules, yeah. What I’m doing trashes morals and regs.”
He flashed a chilling smile.
“But Yeomra picked me to skip the long, tedious process, right?”
“...True.”
Yoo Wol-ryeong nodded reluctantly. She admitted some corner-cutting was needed to resolve this. Just tugged at her conscience.
Ju Kang-rim didn’t blame her. He’d delayed or bent rules on his own guilty stuff too.
“Why tweak the Awakener Management Act at all costs?”
He’d first told her just to back it. Now he wanted changes—why?
Ju Kang-rim gave a wry smile.
“Realized I’m twenty.”
“Yes.”
“Draft age soon.”
“...Ah.”
“Remembered the hell of being conscripted under the original bill. Don’t wanna repeat. So, fix it.”
Yoo Wol-ryeong’s eyes wandered blankly before she spoke.
“Samdo Group can pull strings to exempt you. Or fake a death. Messing with the whole bill seems overkill.”
“Eh, my empathy’s too rich for solo perks. Plus, grudge against the pusher.”
Incumbent opposition congressman Park Tae-hyeon. Vanguard of the bill, but really Gerald’s frontman.
Ju Kang-rim supported management, but Park’s version was beyond imagination—pure slavery for awakeners.
“Duty to country,” “patriotism”—excuses when you had nothing better. No distinctions for ability or personality: blanket coercion, cheap labor. Treat S-ranks and F-ranks “equally”? Same low pay for both.
“Vital resource, prevent brain drain”? Don’t wanna pay fair.
Classic evil in pretty packaging. Plus, bred disillusionment with the state.
Park was worse: stoking gate/zombie fears to control them easier. Awakeners appeared near gates; zombie plagues too. Rumors swirled they were carriers.
Ju Kang-rim knew better from seeing the end, but now was conspiracy central. Park pushed “state control for dangerous awakeners”—at active-duty private pay.
Definitely better off dead. A hundred times over.
“Can’t be helped, then. Heading to meet Park Tae-hyeon now?”
“Huh? Nah. Even I need prep to take down a sitting congressman.”
Killing wasn’t the issue. Managing fallout was. He planned to minimize—or exploit—it.
“Then...”
“Most awakeners are zombie hunters, so for hunter-related stuff, hit up stakeholders. Know the strongest, biggest awakener group in Korea with max interest in the bill?”
Yoo Wol-ryeong tilted her head. Grim reaper pro, but spotty on the living world.
“Where?”
Ju Kang-rim grinned.
“Republic of Korea Army.”