Chapter 169
Chapter 169
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 169
Chapter Title: The Order of the Kings
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A military retreat is nothing like grabbing drinks with friends and heading home. If you're pursued during the withdrawal, you're bound to take heavy casualties, so naturally, you need rear guard units to protect the retreating forces.
And those rear guard units usually end up dead. Their whole purpose is to act as bait, sacrificed to save the larger force.
The Undead Legion kept throwing out those kinds of decoys to block our pursuit as they retreated.
And we happily devoured every one. Leaving them alive would just mean they'd regroup in Beijing anyway. Bit by bit, we whittled down their numbers as we advanced on the city.
"Beijing."
China's capital. Or at least, it used to be. It can't fulfill that role anymore anyway. Come to think of it, China doesn't even have anything resembling a government left.
"After all that insane slaughter, they've still got 200,000 left."
We wiped out 350,000 between Shijiazhuang and Seoul. Out of the original 650,000, we took out about 100,000 before they even reached Shijiazhuang.
Then, pursuing the retreating Undead Legion, we managed to eliminate another 200,000.
In the process, 30,000 Hunters were killed or wounded. The exchange rate is staggering. Roughly speaking, we sacrificed 20,000 Hunters to take down at least 200,000 of the Undead Legion.
Simple math puts it at a 1:10 ratio. The Undead Legion started with 550,000 after those losses, so why only 200,000 in Beijing...?
The remaining 150,000 Undead Legion troops are blocking other routes into Beijing, preventing us from approaching from multiple paths.
It's war. Even if you concentrate forces in one spot, there's a limit to how many you can gather there.
Unlike Shijiazhuang, Beijing isn't protected by walls. If we don't limit their avenues of approach, the Undead Legion will get surrounded from all sides—east, west, south, north—and pummeled.
"What a complicated feeling."
There were once two countries called international thugs: one was America, the other China. Neither is in great shape now, but China's is far worse.
And that won't change even if we destroy the Erosion Core that's taken root in the capital of what was once that thug nation.
The new thug on the block, going by the name Korea, has no intention of sitting idly by while the old thug makes a comeback.
"Not my problem."
Erosion Cores need to be eradicated, and international politics shifting in the process doesn't matter. It's not my field, and honestly, the Korean government can't afford to worry about that right now either.
We've already seen what happens when they do. I barely managed to hold things together on the brink of death, but we nearly got wiped out.
"Fifteen minutes till go-time."
Han Sang-ah spat out her chewing gum onto the ground.
"You two did great. Just a bit more."
Once other Hunters open the path to the Erosion Core, the selected assault team—including me—will charge in. The moment we do, the Hunters who cleared the path pull back.
No matter what, 30,000 Hunters can't keep fighting 200,000 troops. If we destroy the Erosion Core, all the monsters vanish anyway, so there's no point guarding the perimeter.
"Fifteen minutes."
Han Sang-ah held something out to me at my murmur. A cup ramen.
"Think there's time for this?"
Fifteen minutes is enough time to eat cup ramen and even cook some rice.
I checked the lid on the cup I'd taken and made a baffled face.
"Hot spicy beef big bowl? What the hell."
Where's the regular spicy beef bowl? I don't count big bowls as real spicy beef. Han Sang-ah replied to my grumble.
"I like this one better."
Jeong O-hoon chuckled at her words.
"That's the heiress to a chaebol family's verdict, someone who's eaten fancier stuff than you. Accept it."
Chaebol heirs don't get the common folk's tastes. Hard to argue when they're footing the bill. I nodded obediently.
Jeong O-hoon rummaged in his pocket and squirted something into his cup. Mayonnaise from last night's dinner.
Taste buds leaning Russian, huh. Glancing sideways, Han Sang-ah tossed something into hers too.
"Chocolate?"
I stared at her, eyes wide. She said calmly,
"One piece adds flavor."
Bullshit, no way. Chocolate in ramen improving the taste? No chance. They both customized theirs, so I couldn't be left out.
I added scorched rice from breakfast.
And so we spent the remaining fifteen minutes eating our personalized cup ramens.
"Let's move."
Three minutes left. Departure was imminent.
— Operation commencing at this time. Good luck.
With Major General Woo Il-seop's voice, the Hunters charged en masse.
We had to conserve energy before entering the Erosion Core, so we didn't join this fight. We just followed the path the others opened.
The Hunters who'd commanded at Jourgong and Jogong were moving the same way.
Only helping other Hunters when absolutely necessary.
Clearing the path took five hours. Amid the ongoing combat, about 7,500 suffered severe injuries, and 2,800 died.
"That it?"
A sinister black hole loomed ahead. The entrance to the Gonsalok Erosion Core, Great Eight.
"Capacity's ten people."
Like the fridge before, Gonsalok had entry limits. Ten was perfect—we had exactly ten from the meeting.
Without a word, we leaped in.
Vision went black. Then text appeared before my eyes.
I stared at the text. So now they want me to play king too? Ridiculous.
Pop. The surroundings suddenly brightened. In the center of the space where I stood was an ornate throne.
And the other nine who'd jumped into the Erosion Core with me were there too.
"Everyone get the gist?"
Everyone nodded at Choi Yeoreum's words. I spoke up immediately.
"It's not just about picking an order. The key is reigning in sequence."
If one king screws up the kingdom during their ten years, the next has to clean up the mess.
Failing that or making it worse just burdens the following king even more.
"Every action, every choice will ripple into massive changes, affecting the next person."
Something done carelessly could snowball into disaster.
"They won't actually make us live through ten full years, right?"
Maybe, maybe not. I've been through setups like this before—time inside flies while the outside barely moves.
It's not a pleasant experience. Coming back leaves you a little off. The disconnect between perceived time and real time is unsettling.
"The last one's gonna be the toughest."
We nodded at Sung Si-hoon's words. In short, the final king is the ultimate cleanup crew.
Once the last king reigns, if the nation we've nurtured can't hold off Gonsalok, we're all dead.
"None of us have ever been kings. Not sure about the rest of you."
Silence fell at Han Sang-ah's remark. True enough—we'd never ruled as kings.
For starters, everyone except me was probably wired with democracy, capitalism, humanism as givens.
The worst power trips they could pull would be everyday norms in a class society.
Like how the modern worst racial discrimination was once commonplace for white folks.
Could we pull it off? My eyes naturally went to Jang Tae-seok, whose head seemed packed solid with muscle.
After some thought, I spoke.
"Jang Tae-seok should start us off."
"Yeah, I think so too."
Sung Si-hoon jumped in like he'd been waiting.
"Agreed. Hope's List ranks him highest anyway. Strongest goes first."
Choi Yeoreum, listening in, piled on the flattery.
"Is that right? Makes sense."
And that musclehead nodded like it was the best idea ever. Come on, even if Hope's List favors brawlers, this is too much.
Jang Tae-seok sat on the throne. Unable to hold back my curiosity, I asked Choi Yeoreum,
"What's the deal? Why can't you wrest control of Wonder Club from that guy?"
She answered,
"When I use my head, he uses his fists."
Logic of power, got it. Makes sense—can't think straight with a shattered skull.
Best advice I could give her?
"Don't think. Charge in, smash hard, then blame the guy."
She scowled.
"What kinda bullshit is that?"
Anyway, all ten of us agreed: Jang Tae-seok as first king.
"Shows up right away."
The moment he sat, the throne vanished, then reappeared empty.
First king set. Time for the next big decision.
"Who takes last?"
Silence at Jeong O-hoon's question. Could be the hardest spot—or not.
The final throne-sitter gets hit hardest by everyone else's reigns, beyond their own skills.
"I'd like it if possible."
I spoke first. Truth is, I didn't want to leave it to anyone else.
We could fix others' mistakes, but not if we're last.
Screwing the finale means facing Gonsalok's core without cleanup.
But taking the toughest role means biggest gains on success. Others would want it too.
"Who'd stop you if you want it? You've been carrying the load."
Lee Se-eun backed me up, even pointing out I'd suffered most.
Saying it myself would've sounded lame, but her bringing it up first helped.
"Gotta be true, right?"
Kim Chae-hyun, flipping her balisong, agreed readily. The others followed suit.
First king: Jang Tae-seok. Last: me. The rest sorted their order and took turns on the throne.
Finally, my turn. Alone, I muttered at the throne.
"Alright, let's see what shape the kingdom's in."