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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Chaebol (2)
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The greatest damage caused by the war wasn't from nuclear strikes, but from the insidious ambushes lurking in the cold depths below.
A country like Korea, almost entirely dependent on imports for its goods, would die without sea routes open.
Once Chinese submarines started targeting trade lanes, Korea's maritime paths ground to a halt, and its economy received a death sentence.
Not even Parpung Group could escape that fate.
They just had a better shot at holding out longer than most other conglomerates.
After all, they had affiliates in construction, distribution, heavy industry, and even defense contracting.
And maybe that's why.
The equipment deployed to the operational zone was far more impressive than I'd imagined.
Five cutting-edge armored vehicles I didn't recognize, armed with flamethrowers and 20mm autocannons. Three 40kg quad drones capable of providing air support if needed. A platoon of foreign mercenaries who looked like ex-US military. And over two hundred support troops armed with personal firearms.
There weren't many young faces.
The youngest were in their mid-to-late thirties, with most in their forties—and plenty in their fifties.
The operation commander was a guy named Choi Eosa, a former army colonel with zero experience against major monsters.
There was a hunter acting as advisor, but not only was he a stranger to me, he wasn't even a proper hunter.
By "proper hunter," I mean someone trained and certified at a "school" meeting international standards, with at least a year of real combat under a verified mentor, plus another year fighting in gate zones near rifts, and holding a C-rank or higher.
Someone like my mentor John_nenon, who dropped out midway despite graduating from such a school, would be treated as non-combat personnel against major monsters—D-rank at best.
And yet, that non-combat personnel was holding the lifeline of a chaebol group that once dominated Korea.
"I'm Park Sang-min, a sitting National Assembly member and hunter. Nice to meet you."
This guy, with his actor-like handsome features, was the assemblyman.
Word was, he'd leveraged his hunter background to snag a proportional representation seat—one of those specialized slots.
I had no idea what qualified a non-proper hunter to represent all hunters, but the mugunghwa badge gleaming on his faux-military collar looked pretty sharp.
Choi Eosa was the nominal commander, but Park Sang-min was the one really calling the shots.
"This industrial complex has a massive zombie infestation, but research shows zombies have a lifespan of about a month. After that, they starve to death. We're delaying the op to avoid unnecessary fights with them."
His soft, trustworthy voice and good looks made even his bullshit sound plausible to the clueless.
"What do you think, hunter dispatched by the National Crisis Committee?"
For some reason, he kept asking my opinion on everything. His intent was obvious.
He was trying to crush me underfoot.
Because I was the hunter sent by the National Crisis Committee.
Right now, the National Assembly was a powerless club for the elite, while the real power lay with the Committee.
That resentment had twisted into mockery directed at me.
I could brush off something like that with a laugh.
At most, three years. That was this guy's lifespan.
The real issue was the possibility he'd pin the blame for this doomed operation's failure on me.
That wasn't what I wanted.
I was the type to live quietly and alone, cutting ties with everyone when the time came.
"From my view, that doesn't sound right."
"No, Assemblyman, you're mistaken."
"I don't agree at all."
So I kept countering him at every turn.
It was hard not to, really.
The guy was just spouting nonsense.
"I see it differently."
Even a worm writhes when stepped on, so after a few jabs, Park Sang-min struck back.
"You checking the 3D model?"
That was his counterattack.
With nothing substantial in his head, he resorted to sneers and bullshit to dismiss my points outright.
I ignored him and kept going.
"If you think zombies will just starve, they're in shutdown mode. They enter a torpor, slashing their metabolism to the bone. Sure, if they forage for a month and find nothing, they die—but zombies who've set up in an urban area where they can hide from the sun are a different story."
"Ah, come on. Close that Ant Wiki tab~."
Park Sang-min was incredibly rude, but the expressions of the watching group executives weren't exactly cheerful.
Especially the chairman's—they shifted noticeably.
Even a layman could tell who was making more sense just from context.
The argument peaked over entry tactics into the target industrial complex.
Park Sang-min insisted on leading with the armored vehicles. I argued the opposite.
"No, Assemblyman. Ever seen a zombie with a gun? Heard of one? Zombies are sensitive to noise and smell. Rolling in with oil-stinking, engine-roaring armor is just advertising our position."
"Enough!"
Park Sang-min swung his arm.
A thuggish aide stepped in front of me, trying to shut me up.
I shoved them aside and kept talking.
"Send seasoned scouts ahead first to check formations, then decide entry based on that. It's not too late. Fights are 90% planning. 10% individual skill. If the plan's garbage, how do you win?"
"This bastard... you think you can just keep mouthing off?"
Park Sang-min's patience hit rock bottom.
"You little punk think a National Assembly member is a joke? Huh? Who the hell do you think you're talking back to?"
Group members pulled us apart.
Luckily, the one who dragged me off was my reason for being here in the first place.
"You're President Ji Chang-su, right?"
"Yes. That's me."
"Younghee asked me to look out for you."
"Younghee did?"
Younghee.
A perfectly ordinary name for a perfectly ordinary woman.
I gave Ji Chang-su a concise rundown of the operation's risks, backed by my knowledge and experience.
True to form for a man running a company with over three thousand employees—even as a subcontractor—he took my words seriously.
The clincher dispelled his doubts.
"Truth is, I'm not D-rank. No bragging, but I'm leagues above that parasite."
But some invisible thread held him back.
"The chairman, though..."
"What's the chairman got to do with it? Honestly, the whole group's done for, isn't it? Still doing business? Got anything left to trade?"
Ji Chang-su shook his head.
He shook his head, but stared into space with that deep, serious gaze older folks get when lecturing juniors.
"Hunter Park, you're young, so you might not get it, but bonds between people aren't forged and broken that easily. Especially for folks like us who've shared time and trials..."
"..."
I got the gist.
I'd wrestled with similar thoughts myself.
"Besides, even if we bolt from this crumbling outfit, what could we do? We'd just be another refugee from Parpungman."
"You have family waiting for you to come back safe."
"..."
"I don't."
I left first.
"When I signal, run without looking back."
"But the chairman!"
"Don't worry. He'll hightail it too."
The operation's outcome was predictable as sunrise.
Armored vehicles up front, zombies swarming in.
Momentum was good at first.
Up until they piled up a wall of corpses with flamethrowers and autocannons, pushing toward the center.
Then they hit the limit.
Zombies surrounded them from all sides, cutting off retreat. And worst of all, the thing I'd feared most appeared.
A 3-meter abomination of dull gray flesh hovered in the air, looming over the humans.
It pulsed shockwaves with every breath-like expulsion, rippling the surroundings.
It was less a living creature and more a statue.
Or an idol, maybe.
Everyone there froze in their own mix of terror and awe, staring up at it.
In the silence, I grabbed Ji Chang-su's wrist.
"Let's bounce."
It was humanity's enemy: a monster.
Humanity can't beat monsters.
*
Battle results.
Most equipment destroyed. All mercenaries lost.
Choi Eosa KIA.
Of the two hundred employee support troops, only half made it back.
Park Sang-min survived, blaming it on Choi Eosa's incompetence and Parpung Group's poor prep.
Fine by me.
Ji Chang-su lived.
"This should break that chairman's stubborn streak. Thanks for the assist."
Kim Daram greeted me with a smile, but it didn't look all that happy.
She'd only arranged this out of necessity.
I understood.
In a world where everything had collapsed, ignoring a powerful individual's demands wasn't easy.
"Wasn't exactly fun. But why pull that stunt? I can guess the gist."
"Two playgrounds. One's trashed. The top kid from the trashed one shows up at the good one, and they won't let him play."
"Mom metaphor through and through."
"Anyway, rejoice. No more hassle from him."
Kim Daram sent me a telegram—and an unexpected gift.
A personal ID number.
Now I had special status in the military frequency world.
"But that chairman wants to see you again?"
"Pass."
"Up to you, sunbae. He's out of juice now. No resources left to wield influence."
What drew me back to Je Phong-ho?
Looking back, curiosity.
Who wouldn't want to witness the end of a fallen chaebol, if they were Korean?
Je Phong-ho received me on the third floor of his HQ building.
The executive elevator that once whisked me to the 55th was offline.
The fancy bathroom reeked of piss.
He'd laid out a meal and was waiting.
Main course: steak with truffles. Wine: some top-shelf Chateau whatever.
Mushrooms and booze were great, but his meat was a clear step below what I had stashed in my bunker.
"Hunter Park."
He greeted me with a beaming smile.
His face wasn't much different from the cafeteria one.
"I checked your record. Did some digging. You're a big deal."
"Ancient history now."
"Same as me."
Je Phong-ho's eyes sparkled.
"That slimy Lee Sanghun wasn't even a match, right? Teamed up with Kang Han-min—the savior who's half-legend now—and Na Hye-in."
"..."
The wine soured in my mouth.
A name I'd nearly erased from memory.
"Why'd you call me?"
"Looks like you'll reject whatever I say first."
"You know me."
"Straight to it: I plan to retry that industrial complex."
"Won't work. You saw."
"Sometimes you gotta do the impossible."
Je Phong-ho half-closed his unusually bright eyes, gazing wistfully into his blood-red wine glass.
"I was a concubine's son."
"..."
"Says 'mother: Rose Suk' or whatever, but that's not her. My real mom didn't even get a name recorded. Back then, my odds of inheriting the group were zero. But I did it."
His gaze intensified.
Well, his narrowed eyes widened, catching more light from the ceiling fixture, but I mistook it for fiercer resolve.
"I crushed and trampled every obstacle, forcing my father to choose me."
He had the aura for it.
"I'm sixty-nine. Time to try again."
"Not me."
"Just tell me how. The way to beat that monster!"
I couldn't refuse that plea.
Heck, he owed me one—warm noodle soup and a shot of soju.
"...It's a necromancer type. As you saw, it mutates corpses into zombies. When attacked, it throws up a reflective barrier around it—but it doesn't reflect organic matter like living things. Tough to get close, but if you can... options open up. And there's one spot without the field: coin-sized..."
Je Phong-ho nodded eagerly like a kid, scribbling my intel in a notepad.
Afterward, I asked him.
"Why obsess over that place? With your wealth and connections, you could prep plenty elsewhere. Hole up somewhere decent, protect your family and inner circle easy."
"How could I?"
He choked up, countering.
"Tens of thousands of Parpung employees who trusted and followed only me?"
Now I got why his eyes gleamed so strangely.
He was a boss through and through.
The kind who commands loyalty, draws people in.
Or maybe he saw himself and Parpung as one.
*
Je Phong-ho's final challenge ended in failure.
The absence of that woman's father from the casualty list—who'd spoken to me—was a small satisfaction.
The ambitious cafeteria he'd set up became a junkie den, now an abandoned eyesore no one visits.
This was the end of one chaebol I knew.
Thanks to it, I leveled up from perennial lurker to a user with enough clout for a popular post.
But Je Phong-ho's story wasn't over yet.
About a year and ten months after the war broke out, a photo hit the community.
— gijayangban Found this pic on Failnet. Doesn't the face look familiar?
The photo showed a horde of zombies.
Seemed active in some rural area, forming a massive group of thousands.
But the one leading them... that face rang a bell.
No doubt.
The zombie in the shiny suit was Je Phong-ho, chairman of Parpung Group.
While most chaebols ditched their groups for family fortresses of a dozen or so, this top-tier tycoon still roamed the ruins today, leading thousands of followers.