Chapter 10

10. Chaebol (1)

What would happen to the chaebols if the world were to end?

This is a topic that any Korean would be curious about.

A community user named 'Gijayangban,' who has been very active recently, reported on the current state of a chaebol family.

gijayangban: Found the hideout of the chairman of Seokju Group, Park Chulju! It's a pig farm, a pig farm!

The current state of the chaebol that Gijayangban posted was enough to plunge us, the doomsday enthusiasts, into despair.

They built a concrete fortress large enough to house dozens of people and established a self-sustaining ecosystem inside, capable of handling agriculture, manufacturing, and entertainment.

When I saw the small golf course inside the fortress captured by a drone, I couldn't help but exclaim in amazement.

"Wow."

Indeed, they are chaebols.

If you have trillions in assets, you can build something like this.

I'm not particularly envious.

I know I can't mimic it no matter how hard I try.

Besides Park Chulju, other prominent chaebols in South Korea have built similar or slightly less impressive fortresses to prepare for the disaster.

Very few chaebols left Korea, not only because foreign countries are equally unsafe but also because the influence they wield in Korea doesn't work abroad.

Most of them abandoned their groups.

They demoted themselves from modern monarchs with thousands or tens of thousands of employees to the heads of their families to ensure their survival.

This might be a rational choice in a world destined to end, but some chose a different path.

*

After the first visit, I tried to visit Seoul at least once every two months.

Each time I went, the surroundings became more desolate, miserable, and dangerous.

Every time I entered Seoul, I passed through Gangnam, which was once one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in South Korea but has now deteriorated into a refugee camp filled with various tents and shabby makeshift buildings.

Every time I entered the refugee camp, which had fewer tents, I noticed a particular makeshift building.

The dilapidated building had a sign in better condition than the building itself.

[Parpung]

One of the chaebols who once wielded significant influence over South Korea's economy.

This makeshift building was erected about 16 months ago, three months after the war began.

While passing through the bustling refugee camp, I noticed a crowd gathered like a cloud. As I approached, I could smell a delicious aroma.

Upon inquiry, it turned out to be a free soup kitchen set up by the Parpung Group, using their own resources.

Operating a soup kitchen when the economy is functioning is one thing, but operating it when trade has collapsed is a whole different level.

Parpung had set up several such soup kitchens at key locations in Seoul.

Even for a powerful chaebol like Parpung, this must be quite a burden.

Since I had nothing else to do, I waited in line for two hours. To my surprise, I was served braised pork and beef soup, which are typically served at funerals, and it tasted quite good. Moreover, adults were given half a cup of soju in a paper cup.

I didn't drink or smoke while in the air-raid shelter, but here I accepted it without hesitation.

"Wow~!"

This Park Kui, a man who could turn into a Parpung fanboy with just a bowl of soup and a drink!

However, while eating, I overheard conversations around me that were quite different from my thoughts.

"The chairman is trying to get into politics."

"Looks like it."

"Is he spending so much money in this situation just to have ulterior motives? Forget about comforting the people."

Honestly, it was annoying to hear.

In such difficult times, one should be grateful for a good meal, not suspect others' intentions.

You're not living purely out of goodwill either.

I wanted to say something to show gratitude to Parpung for the soju, but after some thought, I realized I didn't have the courage to stand up for them, so I held back.

After calming down, I left the restaurant and something caught my eye.

"It's Jeppungho."

A middle-aged man in a well-pressed suit under an active jacket was shaking hands and introducing himself to people eating the soup, accompanied by people with forced smiles.

"Did you enjoy your meal? I'm Jeppungho."

Jeppungho.

The owner of the Parpung Group.

Behind him stood middle-aged men with similar features and a young, neat-looking man and a pretty girl, presumably his children, standing in order with awkward expressions.

I was drawn to them as if possessed.

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

However, when I approached, the girls were at the back, and I ended up shaking hands with the energetic-looking Jeppungho.

"I'm Jeppungho."

This was the first time I had seen and shaken hands with a chaebol leader so closely.

When I first saw him, I realized for the first time that a person's eyes could shine like that, even if they weren't a hunter.

Moreover, his hand was rough and hard, and I could feel a mysterious strength beyond mere grip.

Later, I heard that there would soon be a parliamentary election.

Not because all the members of parliament had died, but because their terms had expired.

The fact that only 1% of South Korean MPs died in a war that wiped out 18% of the population was a foreboding sign.

*

After getting a bowl of beef soup, I arrived at a building.

This building is the National Crisis Management Committee, or simply the NC.

This extralegal agency, known as the modern emergency office, is the most powerful and influential institution in South Korea since the war began.

The main reason I visit Seoul is that many of my acquaintances are stationed at the NC.

I have indeed benefited a lot from it.

The most important information, walkie-talkies, military frequencies, spam, cooking oil, and holiday sets, among other things.

That day, there were unusually few people.

Especially, the female employee I usually ask for something was not there.

After exchanging greetings with the security guard I knew, I was approached by someone I had never seen before.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

A blank expression, dead eyes, and an extremely formal tone and posture.

The first impression was cold.

"What's the matter?"

"Are you aware of the recent front-line situation? As the battles intensify, we are currently short of troops, especially capable troops who can endure the war..."

As expected, he's a recruiter.

Due to the nature of the war, quality is more important than quantity, so instead of recruiting anyone, they approach physically fit and promising individuals at random.

This man seems to like me, but I have no intention of going to the front.

"If I had the ability, would I come here to beg for connections?"

I tried to respond confidently.

"You used to be a hunter, didn't you?"

It didn't work at all.

I sighed and asked.

"Who sent you? Director Lee Sanghoon?"

If it's Lee Sanghoon, I plan to go and have a word with him.

"No, it's Commissioner Kim Dalram."

"Kim Dalram?"

It's been a while since I heard that name.

A junior.

He was particularly loyal to me.

I think he might have had a crush on me.

In my memory, he was overly enthusiastic but always made mistakes and relied on me, which is a result of ignoring the passage of time.

"Senior Park."

Can a person change so much in just five years?

He was not young even back then but still had a girl's heart. Now, he has become a manager who looks so worn out that even a needle wouldn't draw blood.

"It's been a while."

I could tell from his voice alone that he was a completely different person from the good junior I knew.

On his desk, there was a photo of his family, his wife and children, prominently displayed.

He has become a father.

"Kim Dalram."

"Let me cut to the chase. Help me one last time."

"I want to ask why I should help, but I guess I can't, right?"

"Do you want to be drafted by the country or live freely as you do now?"

"Didn't we make a deal that I would never serve again?"

"Do you think such a deal would hold in this world?"

The difference between my face, which was serious, and his, which was incredulous, seemed to reflect the gap between the reality I thought and the actual reality.

I smiled bitterly and avoided his gaze.

"Live freely."

"Then help me this one last time. I made a deal with Lee Sanghoon to settle this."

"Lee Sanghoon?"

"He doesn't care about you, so don't hold a grudge. He's not a person anymore; he's a number."

"Seems like you change when you become a high-ranking official."

"You know we're short of people, right? And what's happening on the front lines?"

She, who had maintained a mostly expressionless demeanor, now looked at me with a hint of reproach.

"..."

A bitter taste filled my mouth.

I know.

What's happening on the front lines.

That I'm not entirely blameless.

In the oppressive silence, Kim Dalram shifted her gaze back to her documents.

"Jeppungho."

"Jeppungho?"

The face of the man who had a gleam in his eye and a mysterious strength under the aroma of beef soup flashed before my eyes.

"He says he will hunt monsters with his people."

She handed me a document.

"If this report is accurate, it's an impossible mission."

No, it's a collective suicide disguised as a mission.

Before I could say anything, my perceptive junior spoke coldly without looking at me.

"Just pretend."

I knew she had changed, but the transformation of such a kind and gentle junior was quite disheartening.

"This is the last time."

"As long as I'm alive, I'll stop you from being drafted."

"Thanks."

At least her nature hasn't changed.

As I turned to leave, carrying the bitterness of life and the rare moments of emotion, she called out to me.

"Senior."

Kim Dalram called me.

"You don't look a day older?"

I didn't respond to her comment.

*

I met Jeppungho again a month later.

The meeting place was the Parpung Group headquarters, designed by a world-renowned British architect.

The headquarters, which had survived a nuclear attack, had issues with the power system and elevators, so I had to take a temporary construction elevator installed outside to reach the 55th floor, a considerable height, at a slow pace.

"Ugh."

It was terribly cold.

In the group meeting room, which was once only accessible to those with significant influence in South Korea, a group of men in suits were seated in their respective positions.

Judging by their ID badges, they seemed to be employees of the group, maintaining a certain level of appearance even with the export routes closed.

I wondered.

Are they still getting paid? What about the performance bonuses they used to boast about?

Jeppungho, who had been shaking hands and smiling at everyone at the free soup kitchen, was now sitting with his back to the center of the room, the farthest seat from the entrance.

He didn't react when I entered.

Instead, a middle-aged man who looked like a secretary approached me.

"Mr. Park Kui, I hear you're a former hunter."

He briefly interviewed me about my experience, combat history, and rank.

Most of my records have been erased, so I answered as best I could.

"I'm D-class. I've stood in front of a gate and had some combat experience, but I've never been a main hunter."

Jeppungho made an uncomfortable cough.

I didn't pay much attention.

I was just curious about the reason.

Why would a chaebol leader suddenly start hunting monsters?

Even in a world where trade is impossible, this seems like an excessive change of business.

Unfortunately, none of the men in suits could answer my question.

From the moment I revealed my meager experience, I was treated like a piece of office furniture.

A short while later.

"You may leave now."

I was politely asked to leave the meeting room without getting a chance to speak.

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

In the hallway, a group of people with a different atmosphere from the meeting room were gathered. When I approached a friendly-looking person, he only nodded and smiled, as if he were a foreigner, without saying a word.

I understood how I was being treated and kept quiet, but someone unexpectedly approached me.

"What's the matter?"

A young lady.

I recognized her face.

She was one of the young people standing behind Jeppungho at the soup kitchen.

I remembered her because she was quite beautiful.

"I have a question. Is it okay?"

At first, she seemed cold and difficult to approach, but when I spoke to her, she quickly smiled and responded kindly.

"Why is the chairman hunting monsters?"

Unfortunately, she wasn't wearing an ID badge, so I didn't know her name, but from her appearance, she seemed to be the chairman's granddaughter or niece.

After a moment's thought, she looked around to make sure no one was listening and then sighed as she explained.

"Did you know the chairman was planning to run for parliament?"

"Yes."

"It didn't work out."

"Why?"

"The incumbent MPs extended their terms indefinitely."

"Really?"

Later, I found out it was almost unanimous.

Two abstention votes were cast, but to me, they were even more despicable.

"The chairman's plan was foiled. He had provided significant support to both the ruling and opposition parties. From individual conveniences for MPs to the repair of the damaged parliament. When the group protested, the parliament responded that they would provide a seat if we could find an open constituency. That's how it ended up."

"Is that the 'constituency' we're going to?"

"I'm not going. The chairman and his loyalists will go."

Unlike her first impression, she didn't seem like a Parpung person.

I asked her.

"Me? I'm not Parpung. I'm a step below. My father is the CEO of a first-tier subcontractor."

She sighed and glared at the meeting room door with a resentful look.

"What's the point of clinging to a group that's already gone?"

Then I understood.

This woman had no attachment to Parpung.

In fact, she harbored a clear sense of enmity towards Parpung.

Once the floodgates opened, she poured out her pent-up feelings.

"They're all crazy. They're not even related by blood, just by employment. Why are they acting like it's pre-war?"

"I don't know... "

"Excuse me."

Suddenly, the woman's eyes sparkled.

"Are you a hunter?"

"I'm not anymore."

"I have a favor to ask."

She stepped closer.

"Can you talk some sense into my father?"

She handed me her father's business card.

"Please, make him stop this madness."

At that moment, the meeting room door opened.

Leading the way was Jeppungho.

With a serious and stern expression, he walked down the hallway with large, confident strides, his eyes fixed ahead.

Behind him, a dozen or so men in suits followed silently, each with their own expression.

The executive who had spoken to me earlier said curtly.

"Mr. Park, let's go."

"Do I have to go too?"

"Yes."

I turned to look at the woman who had spoken to me.

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

After a brief moment of thought, I said,

"It might not work out."