The Concubine Pact
The moment Yeong-ju’s absurd words left her mouth, the restaurant plunged into a silence as cold and hard as ice.
Desperate to thaw the insane atmosphere somehow, I forced a laugh and said,
“Ha, haha… Yeong-ju’s just cracking a really weird joke to celebrate our new deal….”
But whether I spoke or not, Yeong-ju still wore that gentle smile no longer; she kept staring straight at Sim Geum-a. Sim Geum-a, for her part, held an expressionless face and refused to look away either.
What surprised me most was that even Choi Eun-ji showed zero reaction to Yeong-ju’s rude remark. She simply watched Sim Geum-a’s profile in silence.
“...Mind if I ask one thing?”
At last Sim Geum-a’s mouth opened.
“Who’s the primary wife?
Is it you? Or… do you have some woman stashed away somewhere else?”
“Hey, why are you even playing along with this!”
I shouted in protest, but Yeong-ju and Sim Geum-a still would not take their eyes off each other.
“Even ten years ago… no, almost eleven years back, I’ve seen plenty of proposals like this.”
Yeong-ju slowly began folding her arms at Sim Geum-a’s reply.
“Not sure if our younger husband already explained, but…
Eleven years ago I spent a short stretch managing the girls who poured drinks. Short as it was, those unnies—whether they were called concubines, side wives, or mistresses, the labels didn’t matter—got taken in by capable men all the time….”
Choi Eun-ji quietly closed her eyes at the story of her boss’s past. Yeong-ju simply listened in silence.
“But once they left, the only cases that actually worked out well came down to one single condition.
It wasn’t that the husband treated her well, or that the woman herself was more capable. Nothing like that.”
She paused and locked eyes with Yeong-ju.
“The primary wife—the main wife—wasn’t a crazy bitch. That was the one and only condition.”
Finished speaking, Sim Geum-a downed the cold coffee in front of her in one gulp, then turned her gaze from Yeong-ju to me.
“Our younger husband has real ability. That’s why he’s got so many women hanging around him, right?
I get it. But… if the person in question is going to be me, then I’ve got a few things I need to think about too.”
She looked at Yeong-ju once more.
Yeong-ju did not flinch from that testing stare. The smile was gone now; her expression was utterly serious and cold as she asked,
“If the primary wife… is me?”
A faint smile touched Sim Geum-a’s lips.
“Hmm… your presence feels pretty strong, so it might be rough…
But you don’t seem like a crazy bitch, so… yeah, I’d probably accept.”
“Alright.”
The two of them simply stared at each other for a while without another word.
Then Yeong-ju uncrossed her arms, said “Looking forward to working with you,” and held out her hand with a smile.
Sim Geum-a gripped that hand firmly, and the strange contract between the two women came to an end.
After that, as if nothing had happened, the conversation continued in a far more relaxed atmosphere.
“So, where do you live? Planning to keep living there?”
“Yeah. I’ve got way too many subordinates who followed me there on faith alone. Abandoning the place would be tough.”
“That so? We’ve got two spare bedrooms here. I only meant you could just live with us if you wanted.”
“Wow, you even thought that far!
Thanks for offering a room, but unless the walls I built get smashed someday and I have to bring everyone here as refugees…
Coming over to sleep once or twice a week is doable, but full-time residency is a bit much.”
“Fine, then that’s how we’ll do it.”
Their dialogue raced ahead so quickly and naturally that I simply could not keep up. In the end I could not hold it in any longer and cut them off.
“Wait, wait, wait…!
So that whole insane talk about concubines and whatever—that’s just over now?”
At my words Yeong-ju shot me a look that screamed, This bastard has zero social awareness.
“I just shoved another woman firmly into your mouth and you’re still complaining?”
“That’s right, younger husband. You’re a real husband now, that’s all. Heh heh.”
Yeong-ju and Sim Geum-a started cackling together like it was the funniest thing in the world.
I could not bring myself to continue and turned my eyes aside—only to find Choi Eun-ji wearing the exact same vacant expression as me, the look of someone thinking, What the hell kind of bullshit situation is this?
…This is completely fucked.
Our eyes met and we both understood. Our thoughts were perfectly aligned.
The long, drawn-out “meeting” in the restaurant finally ended. Sim Geum-a’s subordinates who had been waiting outside received some instructions from her, left the words “We’ll come again tomorrow,” and departed the Shelter.
Once she confirmed they were gone, Sim Geum-a—as if the charismatic figure from earlier had never existed—shouted in a voice as excited as a child’s.
“Wow! Then show me my room already! Where is it, where?”
She had fully returned to her usual lively, confident self.
Beside her, Choi Eun-ji looked as though her fatigue had multiplied several times over in those few minutes; she seemed barely able to keep up with Sim Geum-a.
That afternoon, under Kang Po-gyeong’s guidance, Sim Geum-a and Choi Eun-ji began touring various parts of the Shelter with me.
The first stop was the newly created bedroom.
“Wow, this place is amazing! So soft! Our mattresses don’t even compare!”
Sim Geum-a flopped onto the bed and bounced around like a kid, pure delight on her face.
Next they headed to the resource processing room.
“...This machine really just takes plastic and spits out clothes?”
Sim Geum-a stared at the massive machine with an expression of pure disbelief.
“Yes, that’s correct. More precisely, there is a special plastic for clothing; we break it down and use the recovered resources to synthesize fiber.”
Even after Kang Po-gyeong’s explanation she still looked fascinated, touching and tapping the machine.
They continued on through the power room, the hydroponics bay, the medical bay—every facility the Shelter had to offer.
In the power room, where three energy cores rotated in silence generating endless power, they felt awe. In the hydroponics bay, under the blue artificial sunlight, they stared in shock at the sprouts that had already grown quite a bit.
Finally they arrived at the top floor of the Shelter, home to the dome-shaped manual defense system.
Looking out at the 360-degree panoramic view of the outside world, the two women fell silent for a long moment.
“...From up here, it almost looks like the world never ended.”
Sim Geum-a murmured quietly.
For the first time, her eyes held neither greed nor calculation—only pure wonder, and the faintest trace of something like sorrow.
After marveling at the shower facilities, then marveling again at meals that were complete just by adding water, Sim Geum-a and Choi Eun-ji finished dinner and entered the bedroom assigned to them—Room 6.
Wearing the Shelter’s signature soft gray training suits, the two of them looked awkward in the unfamiliar comfort.
“Wow, so these really were group uniforms….”
Sim Geum-a lay on the bed, staring at her own sleeve in wonder.
“It’s a bit late to ask now that everything’s over, but… what are you really thinking?”
Choi Eun-ji pulled a desk chair over, sat down, and propped her legs up on the bed where Sim Geum-a was lying.
“Hmm? What? That concubine talk from earlier?”
When Choi Eun-ji nodded, Sim Geum-a answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“What else? I grabbed the line for sure. You saw the whole thing from the side….”
“No, what I’m asking is whether grabbing that line is really solved just by becoming a concubine. That’s what I mean.”
“Of course it is. Seo Yeong-ju—that woman has a hell of a presence, but thank god she’s someone you can actually talk to.”
“How is that ‘someone you can talk to’? The woman who told you to your face to become a concubine?”
At that, Sim Geum-a snickered and looked at Choi Eun-ji with pity.
“Hey, did you take that at face value?
Think carefully about our conversation again.”
Sim Geum-a waved a hand through the air as if searching for a cigarette, then muttered,
“Ah… is this a no-smoking zone? The world’s ended but this place hasn’t… yeah, it’s probably a no-smoking area.”
“What do you mean by ‘someone you can talk to’? Don’t just stop mid-sentence.”
When Choi Eun-ji pressed her, Sim Geum-a flopped back onto the bed and began interpreting the true meaning of every exchange she had shared with Yeong-ju earlier.
“Earlier, Seo Yeong-ju asked me, ‘Are you going to keep living there?’
That meant, ‘You’re one of us now, so move your base here.’
“So I answered, ‘I’ve got too many subordinates who followed me there on faith; abandoning it is hard.’
That was me conveying my intention: ‘I want to keep my territory and my forces exactly as they are.’
“Then that woman said, ‘We’ve got spare bedrooms, so you can live here.’
That was a proposal: ‘I’ll even give you a room, so prioritize this place over your own territory.’
“So I said, ‘Thanks, but I’m tied to that side so full-time is impossible. Instead I’ll come sleep once or twice a week.’
That was the final agreement: ‘I’ll accept your proposal, but I’ll remain an independent force. Still, I recognize this place as my new affiliation and will take an interest in it.’
“...That’s the conversation we were having. You didn’t realize?”
Hearing that, Choi Eun-ji could only mutter in sheer disbelief, “How the fuck… do you even figure that out?”
Still lying down, Sim Geum-a tapped Choi Eun-ji’s leg with a finger as she spoke.
“During dinner earlier, you heard them talking about expanding the safe zones, right?”
“Yeah. Once they have enough drones, they said they’d build more safe routes connecting their territory to ours.”
“Exactly! That’s the opportunity!”
Sim Geum-a’s eyes flashed like a predator’s once more.
“If we can get even a portion of the new drones they’re offering to lend us—drones from the new production batch!
Then we won’t have to risk our people’s lives scouting and expanding anymore.
We just follow the safe paths the drones clear, plant a flag, and suck up every resource in the area!”
At Sim Geum-a’s ambitious plan, Choi Eun-ji wore a skeptical look.
“...Will Seo Yeong-ju just accept that?”
Sim Geum-a laughed as if the question itself were pathetic.
“Why does it matter whether Seo Yeong-ju accepts it?
Our ‘husband’s’ will is what matters most, don’t you think?”
When Choi Eun-ji still looked at her with complete incomprehension, Sim Geum-a murmured “Eun-ji, Eun-ji…” with pity, then continued.
“The real master of this Shelter is Seo Yeong-chan—our husband.
No matter how strong Seo Yeong-ju’s presence is, no matter how smart she looks, she has never once said a single word that steps outside the ‘position’ our husband has acknowledged for her.”
Her voice was full of conviction as she went on.
“‘Primary wife’? Sure, fine. That only applies inside the limited space called ‘the household.’
Even the talk she had with me was only because I’m a woman she’ll be managing.
Every other important decision outside of that? Our husband’s opinion will always come first.”
Then she groaned, “Ugh, I really want a cigarette!” and tightly hugged Choi Eun-ji’s legs.
Watching Choi Eun-ji thrash around trying to free her legs, she delivered one last line.
“There’s an old saying: ‘Even if you work as a servant, better to be a servant in a great house.’ Right?”
She looked out at the darkness beyond the window and grinned.
“But in this world right now, our husband isn’t just some great lord—he’s practically a king.
So the servants that king employs will at least be lords themselves.
We’re going to become those ‘lords.’”
In her eyes, ambition burned bright—ambition to rewrite the power map of this ruined world.