Hiding a House in the Apocalypse

Chapter 10: Chaebol (1)

What will happen to the chaebols when the world collapses? It's a topic that would pique the curiosity of any South Korean.

Recently, a community user named "gijayangban," who is quite active, shared the current status of one chaebol family.

gijayangban: I found the hideout of Seokju Group's Chairman Park Cheolju! It's Cheolju, indeed~ Mr. Cheolju!

The update from gijayangban regarding the chaebol was enough to cast a shadow over the minds of us, the doomsday pessimists.

They had built a fortress of concrete, large enough for dozens of people to live comfortably on top of a gentle slope. Inside, they had established a self-sustaining ecosystem that could handle everything from agriculture to manufacturing and entertainment.

When I saw the mini golf course inside the fortress captured by a drone, I couldn't help but exclaim, "Wow."

Indeed, it was the work of a chaebol. When you have assets in the billions, you can create something like that. Not that I envy it; after all, it's something I could never emulate, no matter how hard I tried.

Apart from Park Cheolju, who gijayangban posted about, many of South Korea's leading chaebols had built similar or even less impressive fortresses to prepare for disasters.

There weren't many chaebols who left South Korea because, aside from the fact that foreign countries were not necessarily safe either, the power and influence that worked in South Korea didn't necessarily carry over abroad. Most of them had left their conglomerates behind.

From being the rulers of modern Hyundai with thousands or even tens of thousands of employees to becoming the head of a single household, they had reduced themselves and worked to survive.

In this world destined for destruction, that might be a rational choice, but some chose a different path.

After my initial encounter, I tried to visit Seoul at least once every two months.

Each time I went, the surroundings had deteriorated, become more miserable, and above all, more dangerous.

Whenever I entered Seoul, I passed through Gangnam, a prestigious district in South Korea that was once renowned. Now it had deteriorated into a refugee camp filled with all sorts of tents and makeshift buildings.

Every time I entered the refugee camp, I noticed a particular building that stood out.

Amidst the crumbling buildings, this one had a signboard in relatively good condition.

[Pafung]

Once one of the top conglomerates that had swayed the South Korean economy back and forth.

This building had been erected approximately a year and about four months ago, or in other words, three months after the outbreak of the war.

As I passed through the bustling refugee camp, I saw a crowd of people gathering like a cloud, so I went to investigate, and indeed, there was a tantalizing smell wafting through the air.

Upon inquiry, I found out that Pafung Group had directly emptied their pockets to set up a free food kitchen.

Operating a food kitchen in the situation where the economy was functioning correctly versus operating one when trade had come to a halt was like night and day.

Pafung had set up several of these kitchens at major locations in Seoul.

Although Pafung was one of the top conglomerates, wouldn't this be a heavy burden?

Anyway, I had nothing else to do, so after waiting in line for a full two hours, I received a bowl of mixed noodles and beef soup that could pass as a funeral menu and even half a paper cup of soju for adults.

When I was in the underground shelter, I didn't even drink alcohol, let alone smoke, but here, I readily accepted it.

"Cheers!"

This Park Gyura was quite an easy-going guy, transforming into a Pafung man with just one bowl of food and a glass of soju!

However, while I was enjoying my meal, I overheard some disturbing conversations around me.

"Seems like the Chairman is trying to get into politics."

"It's obvious."

"Is he spending money like this during these times? No way. It's not for the welfare of the people."

Honestly, it irritated me to hear such things. If you've been well-off during these difficult times, shouldn't you at least be grateful? Why do people keep suspecting others' motives? Even when they're not exactly living righteously themselves.

I wanted to express my gratitude for the soju from Pafung, but upon deeper reflection, I realized that such a level of loyalty might not be necessary.

After suppressing my anger and leaving the restaurant, something caught my eye.

"Jepung Ho."

A middle-aged man in a lively jumper and well-tailored suit pants was shaking hands and introducing himself to the people who had come to eat. "Have you enjoyed your meal? I'm Jepung Ho."

Jepung Ho.

A member of the Pafung Group.

Afterward, there were other men who resembled him in appearance, middle-aged and above-average, as well as a young man and pretty young women who were presumably his children, standing awkwardly in formation.

As if possessed by a ghost, I headed in their direction.

My intention was to shake hands with the chaebol's daughter.

However, when I got closer, I noticed that the young ladies were standing behind him, and in reality, it was the vigorous-looking Jepung Ho who shook hands with me.

"I'm Jepung Ho."

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Meeting and shaking hands with the actual head of a conglomerate at such close proximity was a first for me.

When I first saw him, I realized that a person's eyes could shine like this, not as a hunter but as an ordinary individual.

Furthermore, his hand was rough and firm, and I sensed an unknown strength in his hand, beyond mere grip strength.

From the stories I heard later, it seems there will be a parliamentary election soon.

It's not because all the members of parliament died, but because their terms have already expired.

However, the fact that the death rate among South Korean members of parliament was only 1% in a war where 18% of the South Korean population vanished was indicating some profound and meaningful outcomes.

***

After getting some beef soup, I arrived at a building located below.

This building belonged to the National Crisis Management Committee, abbreviated as the NCMC.

In this post-apocalyptic world, this ultra-legal institution, often referred to as the modern equivalent of a prime minister's office, was the most powerful and influential organization in South Korea since the outbreak of the war.

The main reason for my visits to Seoul was that I had many acquaintances within the NCMC.

I had gained quite a lot from these connections.

The most important information, of course, was related to War, military frequencies, spam, edible oil, holiday sets, and so on.

That day, it seemed strangely deserted, especially because there were no female employees who usually asked me for favours every day.

As I was walking, an unfamiliar person approached me, breaking the silence.

"Could I have a moment of your time?"

With a stoic face, lifeless eyes, an extremely formal tone, and posture, he seemed quite indifferent.

My first impression of him was rather cold.

"What is it?"

"You are aware of the recent situation on the front lines, aren't you? Due to the escalating battles, our current military strength, especially the competent forces that can withstand the war, is lacking..."

It seemed like he was a recruiter.

Due to the nature of the war, the quality of troops had become more important than quantity. Instead of conscripting anyone randomly, they approached physically fit individuals and tried to persuade them.

His eyes seemed to favour me, but I had no intention of going to the front lines.

"Why should I come here and beg for connections if I had the ability? If I had the capability, I would have come here to sell connections."

I replied with some dignity.

"You used to be a Hunter, right?"

Well, it didn't seem to work, but it was worth a try.

Sighing, I asked, "Who sent you? Director Lee Sanghoon?"

If it was Lee Sanghoon, I planned to go and have a word with him.

"No, it's Director Kim Daram."

"Kim Daram?" [TL Note: For all those wondering who the fuck Kim Daram was few chapters ago like me. Now you know.]

It was a name I hadn't heard in a long time.

She was a junior.

The girl who followed me around so much, always full of enthusiasm, but seemed to rely on me for everything. Looking back, it felt like she was too nave and immature.

"Senior Park."

It's amazing how much a person can change in just five years.

Back then, she wasn't particularly young, but she seemed to have retained the innocence of a girl. But now, she had transformed into a shrewd and unrecognizable manager.

"It's been a while."

Even just hearing his voice, I could tell.

This girl was no longer the kind junior I used to know.

A photo of her husband and child, along with her, was displayed prominently on her desk.

She had become a mother.

That was Kim Daram.

"Senior, I won't beat around the bush. Can you help me just this once?"

"Why should I help you? Besides, didn't we make a deal that I wouldn't serve again?"

"Do you think such promises still hold in this world?"

My serious expression and her bewildered face highlighted the gap between the reality I had envisioned and the actual reality.

Suppressing a bitter smile, I avoided her gaze.

"...I guess we have to live freely."

"In that case, please help me just this once. I made a deal with Director Lee Sanghoon."

"Lee Sanghoon?"

"I'm not interested in senior, so don't hold any grudges. That person is no longer an individual but someone who assesses figures."

"As you rise in status, it seems the world changes accordingly."

"Senior knows that there's a shortage of people, right? Do you know what's happening on the front lines?"

While she had been mostly expressionless, this time she looked at me with a hint of reproach.

"..."

A bitter taste lingered in my mouth.

I knew it too.

What was happening on the border.

That I wasn't entirely upright.

Amidst the cold silence, Kim Daram shifted her attention back to the documents.

"Jepung Ho."

"Jepung Ho?"

The face of the man with a peculiar aura and extraordinary strength, who had an odd presence even under the scent of beef soup, flashed before me as if he were a vivid painting.

"That person wants to hunt monsters with his own people."

She handed me a report.

"This is..."

If the contents of the report were accurate, it was an unreasonable operation. No, it was a group suicide mission disguised as an operation.

Before I could even bring up the question, my perceptive junior spoke coldly without looking at me.

"Just pretend."

My once kind and friendly junior had changed significantly, and this transformation left a bitter taste in my heart.

"This is the last time."

"As long as I'm alive, I'll prevent you from being dragged to the front lines."

"Thank you."

Despite everything, her core hadn't changed.

At that moment, I felt a mix of life's bitterness and the rare moments of moving emotions.

"Senior."

Kim Daram called my name.

"Why do you look like you haven't aged at all?"

I didn't respond to her words.

It had been a month since I last met Jepung Ho.

This time, we met at the headquarters of the Pafung Group, designed by a world-renowned British architect.

While the Pafung headquarters had survived even nuclear attacks, it had faced issues with its power system and elevators. Instead of the ultra-fast elevators within the building, I had to take a temporary outdoor elevator, which moved slowly, to reach the 55th floor.

"Ugh."

It was incredibly cold.

Once upon a time, only those who were considered powerful figures in South Korea could enter this meeting room. Besides me, there were a bunch of people dressed in suits, who seemed like employees within the group, using their staff badges. It seemed like the group still maintained some semblance of order, even though international trade was impossible.

I was curious.

Did they still receive their salaries? Did they get the performance bonuses their employees used to brag about?

As I greeted everyone with a friendly face in the free cafeteria, Jepung Ho, who had been so willing to shake hands earlier, sat at the central seat in the meeting room, facing away from me.

Instead, a man who appeared to be his secretary, a man in his mid-fifties with a scholarly appearance, interviewed me briefly.

My career, combat experience, rank, and so on.

Most of my records had been erased anyway.

I said what I could.

"I'm a D-rank. I've stood in front of Fissures before, and I have some combat experience, but I've never been the main fighter."

Jepung Ho let out an uncomfortable cough, indicating his discomfort.

I didn't really care.

I was just curious.

Why would a conglomerate leader suddenly participate in monster hunting?

Even though the world had changed due to the loss of trade, wasn't this an excessive career change?

Unfortunately, none of the others in the suits provided an answer to my question. The moment I revealed my weak career, I was stamped as something like office equipment in their eyes.

A little while later, they asked me to leave.

I didn't really have anything to say, but I did have one question.

In the corridor, there was another group of people who seemed different from those in the meeting room. They were huddled together, looking friendly. I approached someone who seemed approachable and asked.

"Why is the Chairman going on a monster hunt?"

Regrettably, unlike the others, this person didn't show me a staff badge, so I couldn't know her names, but she seemed like the Chairman's granddaughter or niece.

She thought for a moment, then looked around to make sure no one was listening before sighing and telling me her story.

"Do you know that the Chairman was planning to run for a seat in the National Assembly?"

"Yes."

"Well, that plan fell apart."

"Why?"

"The incumbent lawmakers effectively extended their terms."

"That's unfortunate."

Later, I found out that it was almost unanimous. There were only two votes against it, and in my opinion, those guys are even more despicable.

"The Chairman's plans fell apart because of that. He had been supporting both the ruling and opposition parties indiscriminately all this time. Starting with convenience support for individual lawmakers and repairing the broken National Assembly building. So when we complained at the group level, they told us that if we found a vacant electoral district in the National Assembly, they would secure a seat for us. That's how it happened."

"Is that 'electoral district' where we're going?"

"I won't be going. The Chairman and his loyal followers will."

Contrary to my first impression, she didn't seem like a Pafung person at all. Instead, she seemed to hold a clear grudge against Pafung.

It finally made sense to me.

This woman had no lingering affection for Pafung. In fact, she seemed to carry a deep-seated resentment towards it.

"There."

Suddenly, the woman's eyes sparkled.

"You're a hunter?"

"Not at the moment."

"I have a favor to ask."

She approached me.

A subtle fragrance wafted into my nose.

"Can you please stop my father?"

She handed me her father's business card.

"This madness, please make him stop."

At that moment, the door to the meeting room opened.

At the forefront was Jepung Ho.

With a serious and dignified expression, he walked down the corridor with unwavering determination, his eyes ready to shine brightly at any moment.

Following him, about a dozen men in suits silently accompanied him, each with their own expressions.

The company executive who had interacted with me earlier looked at me and said firmly, "Hunter Park, let's go."

"Do I need to go too?"

"Yes."

I turned to the woman who had spoken to me.

Many people passed between us, but her gaze was fixed solely on me.

I hesitated for a moment, but it didn't last long.

"It might not turn out well."