Apocalypse’s Teacher

Chapter 93

A child who was on the verge of tears stood in front of me.

I nodded quietly as I listened to Juyeong, who was trembling and holding back tears.

'Dongdaemun.'

It's them again.

From the time of the Old Man until now, they've been showing such irritating behavior that my feelings toward them have only worsened.

But now wasn't the time to be angry about it.

"I see."

Since the child was crying, I needed to comfort her first.

That had to come first.

I reached out and patted Juyeong's shoulder.

"Thank you for telling me. You've been through so much."

Juyeong's body shook violently.

She scrunched up her expression in every direction, biting her lip hard, and barely managed to nod.

More tears rolled down.

I wondered how much emotional turmoil she had endured.

And how hard it must have been for her so far.

Perhaps she had longed for someone to comfort her, to the point where even a little kindness made her cry immediately.

A child who cried a lot.

In my heart, Juyeong became such a child.

*

After calming Juyeong down, I came out to the rooftop.

Mr. Park, who had arrived there first, spoke.

"They said it's next week. That fight of theirs."

"So soon?"

"They probably don't want to delay. It's already the end of January, and if the war drags on until March, the zombies will start to thaw, which would make things difficult."

"Do they have any shelter following them?"

"No. I don't know what Dongdaemun is thinking, but no matter how I look at it, this seems like a bad move."

Mr. Park crunched a piece of candy as he continued.

"They must know too. If they go to war so openly, it'll be hard to handle the aftermath. Once the war ends, other shelters around them will pounce to tear them apart, and I don't know if they have a plan in place for that."

"They wouldn't have acted recklessly."

"That's just my opinion."

Mr. Park, having already chewed and swallowed his candy, pulled out another hard candy.

He said he quit smoking, but I wondered if he'd end up with diabetes at this rate.

As I absentmindedly thought about that, Mr. Park brought up something I couldn't ignore.

"There's someone stirring things up from behind."

"What?"

"I think there's someone egging Dongdaemun on to start this war. Think about it. They seem almost certain that the Eternal Pilgrimage Church has some problem. If they're that confident, they must have gotten the information from somewhere, but I find the source of that information suspicious."

My brow furrowed.

Mr. Park glanced at me before continuing to speak, his gaze now directed below the railing.

"Who would benefit if the Eternal Pilgrimage Church and Dongdaemun clashed?"

Divide and conquer. That must be what Mr. Park was implying.

I racked my brain to keep thinking.

'Other shelters?'

No, they wouldn't be the ones to provoke such a war.

The current situation would already be satisfactory for them, and they knew that maintaining the status quo was more beneficial than engaging in territorial disputes that would harm themselves.

'Then, the Eternal Pilgrimage Church?'

Could it be a staged act?

Could the information about the Eternal Pilgrimage Church faltering, along with all the circumstances, be part of the Priest's scheme?

I thought about it, but even that remained uncertain.

The Eternal Pilgrimage Church prioritized proselytizing and expanding their territory over war.

No matter how much Gangnam and Gangbuk seemed like separate worlds, if it were the Priest, he would have come up with something even more nonsensical.

He wouldn't have engaged in a war of attrition like this.

As my thoughts continued, something suddenly came to mind, and I muttered under my breath.

"Blacklist...."

The blacklist that included me, the Old Man, the Artist, and the Priest.

The person who would benefit the most from both the shelters and the Eternal Pilgrimage Church disappearing.

Mr. Park responded to my muttering.

"That's what you think too, right?"

It seemed Mr. Park had been considering that possibility as well.

"Do you have anyone in mind?"

"For now, exclude the Rider. He's not smart enough to pull something like this off."

"What about the Engineer?"

"The Engineer can be ruled out too. I just met him last week. He's busy poking around everywhere trying to build some generator. He didn't even know a war was brewing."

"Then...."

"The Mercenary, or maybe the Artist."

There was certainty in Mr. Park's words.

Of course, I could somewhat agree with his guess.

The Mercenary was a war fanatic.

In wars between shelters, he served as a mercenary who directed battles for astronomical fees, earning both admiration and disdain from many shelters.

If it were him, he might start a war for his own gain.

However, my instincts told me otherwise.

It wasn't about the circumstantial evidence.

"The Artist."

That man I met not long ago, his gaze had seemed too dangerous.

And his ideology had felt too impure.

"It's probably him."

An extreme apocalyptic fanatic.

A true lunatic who made it onto the blacklist purely for spreading ideology without any evidence to support it.

Someone who benefited as the world neared its end—the one closest to being the mastermind behind this war.

Mr. Park agreed.

"He hates the Priest as much as you do."

"And he hates shelters too."

Mr. Park and my gaze met.

Mr. Park crunched another candy and swallowed it as he asked.

"Are you going to intervene?"

It was a question of whether I would try to disrupt the war.

I exhaled deeply and continued to contemplate.

'Originally....'

I hadn't intended to get involved.

Protecting the children was far more important than participating in a war that carried such risks.

But there was something shaking my resolve.

"Dongdaemun has lost a lot of people."

They abused the child.

What they did to Juyeong was something anyone would call abuse.

Despite being a large shelter, Dongdaemun didn't take care of the child.

Not only did they neglect her, but they also pushed her into doing such dangerous things.

I couldn't forgive that.

"And the ones they're fighting are cultists."

Divide and conquer. For a moment, I felt a bit of understanding toward the Artist's mindset.

'Might as well get rid of the nuisances while I'm at it.'

My resolve hardened.

Mr. Park, noticing something through my expression, asked.

"Do you have a plan in mind? After all, it's a winter war. Bullets will be flying everywhere, and there will be people using explosives all over the place. Bomb attacks won't work."

"I know. Do you think I haven't gone crazy a few times during the winter?"

Though I might not be well-liked, in Seoul, I am notorious enough to rank at the top.

Beyond survival, I've engaged in looting and arson attacks.

There's no one more remarkable in that field in Seoul than me.

"Use poison to fight poison. Just add one more thing to that."

"What is it?"

Mr. Park looked at me with interest.

I grinned and answered him.

"Fisherman's gain."

War inevitably results in the depletion of forces.

That's why people who want to swallow weakened shelters always appear.

All I need to do is to coax them just a little.

So, it's not just the Artist who can use this strategy.

*

The innermost part of Mapo Shelter, the Shelter Leader's office.

Hak-jong, the Shelter Leader, thought.

'It feels like I've been seeing him more often lately.'

The man right in front of him, known to the public as Bomberman, seemed to have been around too frequently these days.

Hak-jong spoke.

"...What is it this time?"

What matter had brought him all the way here again?

After agreeing to stay out of each other's business, why did he keep showing up?

A question laced with multiple meanings.

To that, Seokho replied.

"The shelter feels a bit small."

"...What?"

"It feels a bit cramped. You must be really good at what you do, huh? From what I saw today, it seems like drifters are coming here from all over."

Seokho's words were correct.

Mapo Shelter, run by Hak-jong, had better conditions than others, attracting drifters who couldn't find a place and were getting jobs as workers.

It could definitely be taken as a compliment.

Yet, for some reason, Hak-jong felt a sense of unease at those words.

The reason was obvious.

It was because the one saying it was Seokho, who always took something like a bandit whenever he came by, making his skin crawl.

"What are you trying to say?"

He didn't want to waste energy on pointless chatter.

If there was a reason he came, Hak-jong wanted it resolved quickly so they could part ways.

Hoping that this time wouldn't bring major losses, he spoke.

To that, Seokho gave an unexpected answer.

"Hey, do you need more land?"

Hak-jong's expression hardened.

"What?"

"I said, don't you need more land?"

Seokho grinned.

As he scanned the room, he noticed a map of Seoul hanging on the wall and quickly got up to head toward it.

Tap-.

With his index finger, he pointed to a spot on the map.

He gestured toward the Dongdaemun area, on the exact opposite side of Gangbuk.

"I think I can give this to you as a gift."

Hak-jong's gaze followed Seokho's finger to the spot, near Dongdaemun on the map.

Seokho, feigning goodwill, was saying he would give that land as a gift. But Hak-jong wasn't someone naive enough to fall for empty words.

"Are you planning to participate in the war?"

"Exactly."

"The reason you're making such a proposal must be that you need troops."

"That's why it's convenient talking to someone quick-witted."

Seokho chuckled.

"So, what do you think? Tempting, isn't it?"

Hak-jong stared at Seokho.

Quickly calculating the gains and losses in his mind.

'Dongdaemun, huh.'

The troops that would need to be sacrificed, and the land, wealth, and manpower to be gained.

All of these were immediately turned into figures in Hak-jong's mind.

In the silence of the office, after completing all his calculations, Hak-jong finally spoke to Seokho.

"It would be problematic if you meddled in the internal affairs of the shelter."

This was a statement made with the post-occupation situation in mind.

The proposal was certainly tempting for Hak-jong as well.

'To own a stretch of land extending from Mapo all the way to Dongdaemun.'

And that wasn't all.

The area in between included Seodaemun, occupied by Bomberman, and Jongno, overrun by zombies, so there was no concern about their connection being severed.

It was a mutually satisfying deal.

After completing his judgment, Hak-jong's response came.

"I'm not suited for politics."

A straightforward affirmation.