Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 110.3: Debt (3)

King’s whims led me to meet a man I had never known and would never fully understand—Seol Chando.

"Hello?"

At first glance, Seol Chando seemed ordinary.

A moderately lean build, average height.

Except for the large, unsightly scar running across his left cheek.

"This wasn’t from the battlefield."

Noticing my gaze linger on his scar, Seol Chando brushed his fingers over it as he spoke.

By the time he was discharged, he had held the rank of captain.

He hadn't started as one, but after a series of commanding officers died in the field, he had been promoted on-site out of necessity.

"I originally planned to quit after my short-term service. An older friend of mine said he’d get me into his company."

He rolled his eyes, lost in thought.

"Let’s see... how many did I kill? The number’s in the thousands at least. Yes. That’s just the ones I personally killed. If you count those who died indirectly—starvation and such—it’s well over a hundred thousand."

Seol Chando spoke with unsettling calm as he recounted his actions in Pyongyang.

There was no trace of guilt in his expression.

It was a common trait among so-called villains, but unlike them, Seol Chando did not exude bravado or twisted pride.

"I did what needed to be done. If it hadn’t been me, it would’ve been someone else."

He added as he sipped his tea.

According to King, Seol Chando was suspected of being involved in the deaths of over a million people in Pyongyang.

Out of all the members of the 7th Corps—whose records had been deliberately erased and concealed by the government—only two men had been formally charged with war crimes: Seol Chando and his direct superior, Lieutenant General Park Jeongdeok.

He had avoided a dishonorable discharge in exchange for his silence.

As for the other man, Park Jeongdeok had committed suicide in prison, and when the press caught the scent, they swarmed around Seol Chando instead.

Seol Chando had never intended to become Pyongyang’s butcher.

He had volunteered for the mission, drawn by the promise of higher pay, the thrill of exploring uncharted territory, and the pride of being an elite special forces soldier.

According to Seol Chando, the 7th Corps, despite its name, had initially been formed with the strength of only 1.5 divisions.

Instead, they had gathered the best soldiers from various units, forming small, specialized teams led by highly rated officers.

Under the command of Lieutenant General Park Jeongdeok—a former military advisor in «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» China who would later take his own life—the 7th Corps advanced into North Korea, armored vehicles in tow.

At first, it had gone well. They had felt like liberators.

Not only civilians but even North Korean soldiers in uniform had welcomed the South Korean military with open arms.

The unit advanced unchallenged, moving smoothly all the way to Sariwon.

But things changed as soon as they crossed Sariwon.

A group of armed fighters emerged from behind the cheering crowds and slaughtered both civilians and soldiers alike.

The South Korean military retaliated immediately, wiping out the attackers. But that brief skirmish was a grim omen of the relentless future awaiting them in North Korea.

"Some truly welcomed us. But not all.

"They claimed they had nothing to lose. That was a lie. Too many of them had everything to lose."

North Korea’s extensive paramilitary networks only made things worse.

With nearly a century of authoritarian rule ingrained into their structures, these organizations operated under strict chains of command. Even if a leader made a reckless decision, subordinates rarely dared to resist.

Attacks on South Korean forces began, day and night, in every region.

The U.S. military—once hailed as the strongest in the world—had claimed a historic victory in Iraq but suffered immense losses during the prolonged occupation, ultimately withdrawing.

A similar fate awaited the South Korean military.

Casualties mounted, and heroes emerged. freewēbnoveℓ.com

It was during this time that the legend of General Bang Soo-byeon, the self-proclaimed Awakened, began.

"Did you know?"

Seol Chando asked, lighting a cigarette.

"Even the most bookish nerd, some kid who spent all his time playing childish games like LoL, will lose his mind if his closest friend is killed right in front of him?"

Every attack was met with blood-soaked vengeance.

It was around then that Seol Chando began showing signs of becoming a butcher.

"I suddenly found myself wondering—these people who claim to have nothing to lose...

"Why are they so desperate to kill us, even when their so-called royal family has already been wiped out?"

He personally interrogated the leader of a local paramilitary unit.

If "interrogate" was even the right word—it was torture.

Only after completely destroying the man beyond recognition did Seol Chando extract an answer.

Someone was giving the orders.

It was Pyongyang.

On the surface, they pleaded for South Korea’s help, but in the shadows, they mobilized local organizations to harass and bleed the South Korean forces dry.

Their intentions were clear.

Pyongyang wanted to prove it still controlled the regions beyond its borders, so that when reunification inevitably came, they could retain their power.

Seol Chando called them the "Pyongyang Nobles."

"That’s when I knew.

"Pyongyang had to be destroyed."

His superior, Lieutenant General Park Jeongdeok, had similar thoughts.

After Seol Chando took command following the death of his company commander, Park Jeongdeok initiated his boldest operation yet.

A total siege.

All roads leading into Pyongyang were cut off.

Electricity was severed.

Water supplies were shut down.

The goal was simple: starve the "Pyongyang Nobles" out of their city.

The moment they stepped outside Pyongyang, they would lose all their power.

Their authority was tied to that land. That was Park Jeongdeok’s belief.

The plan was inhumane, but in the face of North Korea’s closed-off society, the South Korean military’s secrecy, and the global turmoil unfolding elsewhere, the Pyongyang siege never made headlines.

Elsewhere, in India, tens of thousands were dying or disappearing daily.

On the first day of the siege, Seol Chando received unexpected reinforcements.

They were North Korean soldiers—not from Pyongyang.

"Those Pyongyang bastards... it’s about time they got what they deserved, don’t you think?"

They volunteered to blockade the back roads.

Seol Chando, acting on his own authority, integrated them into the chain of command.

Less than a day later, those non-Pyongyang troops caused an incident.

Some, high on drugs, broke into Pyongyang and went on a rampage—murdering, raping women, and looting luxury goods.

Park Jeongdeok saw this as a disaster.

Though a meticulous soldier, he was also a political one.

His ambitions extended beyond North Korea.

He had envisioned himself as the first military president since the dictatorship era, rising to immortal fame after overseeing the annexation of the North.

His plan had been to intimidate the Pyongyang Nobles into submission—not to physically harm them.

The incident had been Seol Chando’s independent decision, and as a result, he was placed on probation.

But his probation lasted less than a month.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

The officers who replaced him—his company commander, battalion commander, even his regimental commander—were assassinated.

The unit was under attack from all sides, and the assaults showed no sign of stopping.

As rumors spread that the government was considering a full military withdrawal, Park Jeongdeok, now desperate, gave Seol Chando unrestricted authority.

And so, the legend of the butcher began.

This had nothing to do with Seol Chando.

He was unwavering. Not a shred of shame in his demeanor.

It wasn’t that he took pride in his past, but neither did he feel any guilt.

"As I’ve said before, I just happened to be there. I simply did the job that the situation required of me. If it hadn’t been me, someone else would’ve done it."

That was the only thought Seol Chando had about his past.

But past sins do not simply vanish.

Seol Chando knew that well.

"Still, every action comes with a price. Let’s call it a debt."

He ran his fingers over his scar.

"I got this wound in this city. A Pyongyang bastard shot me out of spite."

"There are Pyongyang people here?"

"There should be plenty. There used to be a refugee camp nearby, and many of them trickled into the city. One of them recognized me and spread the word."

Seol Chando smiled faintly.

It was only then that I noticed—his deeply etched scar remained rigid even as he smiled.

With that half-frozen smile, he spoke.

"This is the only burden I have to carry."

Seol Chando stood up, gave a polite nod, and left.

King never contacted me again.

One of his subordinates casually mentioned that King was currently tied up negotiating with nearby warlords.

A woman in a rabbit mask led us to a merchant selling solar panels.

As we walked through the bustling market, I pondered King’s intentions.

What exactly was he trying to tell me through Seol Chando?

Lost in thought, I bumped shoulders with a drunken man.

"You bastard!"

He bellowed at me before stumbling away.

It was a minor, unpleasant incident, but for a brief moment, something clicked in my mind.

I felt as if I was beginning to understand what King wanted to convey.

Most crimes are personal in nature, with a perpetrator and a victim.

Like two sides of a coin, they are bound together by the thread of misfortune.

But this was the apocalypse.

The world no longer wielded societal condemnation as a weapon against crime, as it had before the war.

In the absence of moral judgment, if a perpetrator felt no sense of guilt, then the only burden left for them was simple.

Revenge. A physical debt.

Outside, Ha Tae-hoon and Cheon Young-jae were busy installing the solar panels.

"Alright! Alright! There! That’s good!"

Carrying the bottle of water King had given me, with a slice of lemon floating inside, I approached them.

Cheon Young-jae took a gulp of the cool water and grinned.

"Senior Park, remember that woman? The one in the rabbit mask? She told me she wants to see me again. That’s a green light, right?"

Ha Tae-hoon, drinking his own water beside him, scoffed.

"You got screwed over by a woman before, went through hell, and you’re still thinking about them? Just settle for a real doll like me."

Both hunters turned to look at me.

"So, how the hell did you become friends with King?"

Cheon Young-jae asked, astonished.

Ha Tae-hoon shared the same curiosity.

Feeling awkward, I shrugged.

"I’m just that popular."

The new power system was successfully installed.

The solar generator was more stable than expected, supplying a high output of electricity, and the newly acquired batteries—claimed to be less than a year old—exceeded expectations.

Bzzzzzz—

What had once been a mere passive motion detector was now a full-fledged defense network, with an array of surveillance devices and drones guarding my territory.

There was still no sign of the academy hunters, but I had no intention of lowering my guard.

If not them, someone else would come for my territory sooner or later.

"A convoy spotted in the north. Looks like they’re heading south."

"What’s south?"

"King’s city, probably."

More people were on the move.

Chhhhk—

CQ. CQ. We are a small group of refugees traveling with elderly and wounded. We have severe injuries and are in urgent need of medical supplies. If anyone can spare medicine, we will offer anything in return.

"There are only two of us here, both women. Young, too. One’s twenty-one, the other’s nineteen. Please, someone, help us!"

Radio transmissions were becoming more frequent.

Bang! Tatatatatata!

Bang! Bang!

Gunfire rang out more often as well.

News arrived shortly after we activated the new power grid—Seol Chando had been found dead, shot and left in a ditch.

King, strangely affected by it, sent me multiple messages all at once—something uncharacteristic of him.

Message from CrunchRoll: That bastard was always on edge, never let his guard down. But that day, he drank. He loosened up. Even went to a brothel, which he never did.

Message from CrunchRoll: Guess he was in a good mood. Even when he was getting shot, he was laughing as he returned fire.

Message from CrunchRoll: At least he died smiling. That signature half-smile of his, right to the end.

Message from CrunchRoll: A good death, huh? lol

Almost as if scripted, Defender—who I hadn’t heard from in a long time—also left me a message at nearly the same time as King.

I had been working, so I didn’t check Defender’s message until dusk.

As I took the last sip of my lemon water, I opened it.

Message from Defender: I saw the post. You must have seen it too.

Message from Defender: I won’t hide behind orders or necessity. What I did was my doing. I carried out my mission with full awareness.

Message from Defender: Anyway, I’m glad you’re back. There’s a lot I want to ask, and I really want to see you again, but...

Message from Defender: Do we even deserve to be there?

Deserve.

A word Seol Chando never used.

A simple choice of phrase, but in that, I could see the difference between Defender and Seol Chando.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before replying.

SKELTON: That’s for you to decide.

"......"

It still felt lacking.

I added another line.

SKELTON: At the very least, I’ll help you pay off the debt you have to bear.