A Gate Opened On My First Day As A Politician - Chapter 17: Hunters (1)
*Pi Chae-won.*
I sat at the bedside, staring coldly at the bandaged girl.
The girl was breathing faintly through an IV and a respirator.
…Had she really foreseen the future?
She opened her eyes. She remained perfectly still, staring at me. I did the same.
As I gazed into Pi Chae-won’s vacant eyes, a thought crossed my mind:
If she truly possessed precognition, then under no circumstances could I let her fall into someone else’s hands.
For a long time, we simply locked eyes without speaking.
Having made up my mind, I acted swiftly.
Putting on the warmest smile I could muster, I gently took both of Pi Chae-won’s hands in mine. It was a tactic Yang Pan-seok often used during election season.
“Thank you so much, Pi Chae-won.”
“…”
“You saved my life. I don’t even know how to properly express my gratitude.”
For a brief moment, I questioned if this was an appropriate thing for an adult to do.
But I was walking a tightrope.
A single slip, and I’d fall to my death. And I had three people depending on me.
I smiled skillfully and started speaking earnestly. First, I lowered my gaze with a bittersweet smile.
“…I won’t ask how you knew.”
The secret was already locked away. No one would be gossiping about Pi Chae-won predicting the helicopter crash.
“This is the military. If Pi Chae-won’s abilities are revealed, then…”
I left a pause to spark dangerous imaginings.
“…You won’t remain free. Not as you are now.”
I looked at her with concern, applying a gentle squeeze to her hands.
With a small gesture of performance, I delivered the next line straightforwardly.
“I feel a bit sorry to bring this up, but do you have any relatives to turn to?”
“…”
Pi Chae-won lowered her gaze in silence. After a moment, she shook her head.
“How old are you again?”
“…Senior in high school.”
“An orphan, then.”
A blunt evaluation meant to stir slight discomfort.
“I’m an orphan too.”
Turning strong emotions into shared empathy, I smiled faintly and lifted the mood with a brighter tone.
“Well, my aunt took me in right away, though.”
“…I see.”
“Are you scared?”
A heavy message delivered in a lighthearted voice. The contrast added to its weight.
I looked out the window as I spoke, avoiding her gaze. Speaking without direct eye contact lent a sense of sincere self-disclosure.
Honestly, looking into her eyes while having this conversation felt slightly unbearable. It was, after all, a morally dubious act.
I strained myself to forge a connection.
“Do you wonder if the orphanage would even take you in? What you’ll eat tomorrow? Where you belong in a world like this…?”
“…”
“It probably feels like you’re just floating.”
I continued speaking plainly.
“The rooftop door. You locked it to keep others out, didn’t you? Do you remember?”
“…Yes.”
“I wasn’t supposed to open it, but I did.”
I turned to her with a sorrowful smile and posed the question as if seeking confirmation.
“…It was me who saved you, wasn’t it?”
“…Yes.”
“Then, how would you feel about me becoming your guardian?”
Pi Chae-won, with her vacant eyes, responded in a faint, unsteady voice.
“…Why?”
I had to answer immediately.
“…Because I understand the sorrow of losing parents.”
I was a nobody—a broke, powerless nobody.
“And because we saved each other. I feel like this is fate.”
The only path forward was to dominate the superpowered industry.
“Besides, kindness doesn’t always need a reason, right?”
There was no way I could let this precious variable fall into someone else’s hands.
“Pi Chae-won, I’m planning to establish a foundation.”
I was walking on a tightrope. A single slip, and I’d die.
“If you’re willing, would you like to come and learn with us?”
I felt sorry for her.
But now, she couldn’t escape me.
* * *
“Yawwn… Hyung!”
Yang Il-ho waved with a grin, his mouth stuffed with a boiled egg. Next to him, Lee Ho-jung looked disgusted, glaring at him.
Somehow, Lee Ho-jung had found new heels and stockings to replace her broken and torn ones. She was now even dressed in a women’s suit.
“Why do your outfits keep leveling up every time I see you?”
Lee Ho-jung, with her neatly combed mid-length hair tucked behind her ear, smiled confidently. Sometimes it was annoying how aware she was of her own beauty.
“I traded 28 cans of seafood bibimbap sauce at a clothing store for this.”
“What?”
“Soldiers don’t eat that stuff anyway. After a few smiles at the storekeeper, they gave it to me as a gift.”
“Isn’t that profiteering by exploiting the price difference between civilians and the military?”
“Hmph!”
So brazen. After three sleepless nights building the foundation, I decided to let it slide.
I idly flicked at the mountain of eggshells on the table and glanced at Yang Il-ho.
“How do you eat so much without getting fat, you pig…”
“You were on TV earlier, hyung!”
“That’s still on?”
Lee Ho-jung answered for him with an exhausted face, likely from the aftereffects of our three-day grind.
“People have never been more interested in politics than now. Yesterday’s fight in the Busan City Council even made the news headlines…”
“So, what were they saying about me on TV?”
“They called you Yang Pan-seok’s puppet.”
I half-expected that.
“A former aide to Yang Pan-seok, who essentially won through dumb luck and is now just a figurehead for him, right?”
“Yep.”
“Couldn’t you at least lie and say they didn’t?”
“Nope.”
Relentless. I clicked my tongue bitterly and muttered.
“Well, from now on, I’ll have to carve out my own space.”
Yang Il-ho tilted his head curiously.
“How?”
“If I approach the people sincerely, won’t they open their hearts?”
The superpowered world would be mine to take.
* * *
“What are you doing?”
“Ah!”
Gam Chul, scribbling something in a notebook, jumped in surprise and quickly closed it. His glasses fell to the floor.
I leaned down from my wheelchair to pick up the glasses and handed them to him with a light smile.
“What were you writing?”
“Ah… ha ha…”
Gam Chul responded sheepishly.
“Just, uh… an essay?”
“An Essay?”
“Uh-huh. A mix of reports and articles, I guess. What should I call it? Oh, right—let’s just say it’s a journal.”
It was probably less of a journal and more akin to a historical record. After all, a former international war correspondent was now documenting the Gate Incident.
“It’s already been two weeks.”
“…Yes.”
Two weeks had passed since the Gate opened.
The estimated death toll: 980,000. Injuries: 3.4 million.
South Korea was enduring a history soaked in blood and tears.
Not that it hadn’t before.
Gam Chul spoke somberly, his eyes full of sorrow.
“If you head just 50 kilometers south, people are probably still dying even now.”
“…I suppose so. Do you want to go?”
Before the Gate Incident, Gam Chul had already been working as a war correspondent, traveling hundreds of kilometers to other nations.
“…I do.”
Gam Chul’s soft, kind eyes, magnified by his round glasses, dropped downward.
On his lap was Gam Seok, nestled in a baby carrier, sleeping soundly.
His answer was clear enough.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go. He couldn’t.
I offered a bitter smile and prepared to turn my attention to civilian issues for the first time in a while—when the TV screen abruptly switched to breaking news.
—*Breaking news: A large group of survivors has been confirmed in Apgujeong, classified by the military as a Level 1 danger zone. This group, centered around what are commonly referred to as ‘Awakeners,’…* (TL Note: There you go, the first mention of beings called Awakeners.)
Damn it.
The broadcast cut to some shocking footage.
It was aerial footage taken by a helicopter—meaning the press had breached the military’s air defense network. I immediately focused on the screen.
A few individuals were seen leaping across rooftops, herding monsters. The monsters were eventually cornered in an alley.
There, several teams of people worked to drive numerous monsters into one spot.
Finally, one person extended their hand.
In an instant, the alley erupted into a massive pillar of fire.
My fists clenched involuntarily.
One person had created a towering flame several meters high.
That individual must not fall into anyone else’s hands.
The fact that this had been broadcasted meant the existence of superpowers was now officially revealed.
A chaotic nation, and the flames rising within it.
A troubling new chapter of history was beginning.
* * *
“Why was a media helicopter allowed to fly over Apgujeong? Does Director Kang not control the air defense network? Is he trying to get himself killed?”
“S-sorry, sir.”
“That wasn’t a threat—it was a question. If you don’t want to die, monitor air traffic properly. Did the operations room start partying because there haven’t been flying monsters yet?”
“No, sir. It all happened so suddenly—”
“Is there anything in this situation that doesn’t happen suddenly? Who knows if a Gate will burst open tomorrow and flying monsters will appear? Two days ago, two bridges over the Han River were destroyed from Gate activity. Do you still think we have the luxury to slack off?”
Having built a good rapport with Vice Minister Cha Jae-kyun, I was able to enter the command center without facing any restrictions.
Cha Jae-kyun was chewing out a soldier but stopped when he noticed me. With a sharp gesture, he dismissed the soldier, who quickly fled.
Impressive authority. Cha Jae-kyun reverted to his professional tone and gestured for me to approach.
“You’ve arrived at the perfect time, Assemblyman.”
I got straight to the point.
“YBC has done us the favor of making superpowers official.”
“…Had the country been under full martial law, those reporters wouldn’t have gotten away with this.”
His calm, slightly quick tone was as cold and pointed as ever.
I sought to temper his anger.
“I’ll relay your message to Assemblyman Yang Pan-seok. We can’t collaborate with those who act against the nation’s interests during a crisis.”
“This isn’t the first time that network has tried to send reporters into restricted areas and gotten caught.”
Which likely meant the journalist was already in jail. This aerial footage was probably revenge.
It seemed like the tough measures taken by this sharp-looking official were starting to show their consequences.
It wasn’t entirely a bad thing. A weaker military could give me more room to expand my influence.
Still, we couldn’t afford for the military to grow so weak that it would falter against monsters. Cha Jae-kyun wasn’t the type to let that happen, though.
What mattered most now was securing that pyrokinetic for the Han Seung-Moon Foundation. He couldn’t be handed over to the NIS or any other group.
“I heard there’s a large group of survivors in Apgujeong.”
“The group numbers in the thousands. They’ve mainly been operating around residential complexes and a large mart. We were aware of them but…”
So they had known about them but left them alone.
“I didn’t expect them to include superpowered individuals.”
On the situation room screen, the pyrokinetic was incinerating dozens of monsters at once.
If the military were to rescue that pyrokinetic and assign him to the Foundation, would they listen?
Given Cha Jae-kyun’s envious gaze, that seemed unlikely.
In a situation where sea routes were cut off, the military wasn’t limitless. Awakeners, however, could simply be fed and sent back into battle. That straightforward economic logic made their value skyrocket.
Few people in South Korea understood this yet, but fortunately, I had realized it first. The problem was that Cha Jae-kyun wasn’t an easy man to deal with.
How could I secure the pyrokinetic for the Foundation? I didn’t have the military’s resources, safety, or power to offer.
What to do…
Bribery, threats, persuasion—none of it seemed feasible.
But handing him over to the military was unthinkable. A flame pillar tall enough to engulf a two-story building was too compelling. What would happen if he consumed a mana stone?
He’d become a walking bomber—a human tactical weapon.
Moreover, he was the first publicly recognized superpowered individual. Perfect for use as a promotional symbol. His value wasn’t limited to raw power.
…I couldn’t compete with the military materially. I’d need a more humanistic approach.
Time for a new gamble.
The *three visits to the thatched cottage* [1] approach.
I’d go to Apgujeong myself to rescue this superpowered individual.
However, like Liu Bei seeking Zhuge Liang, showing such humility required the other party to let me try.
And I doubted Cha Jae-kyun would send me there.
* * *
When I returned to the barracks assigned to us, everyone was gathered around the TV.
“Hey, this…!”
Normally, Yeo Do-yeon would have expressed her emotions with a single, harsh swear word. However, after her scolding from Gam Ji-yoon’s crude remarks, her language had become somewhat tamer.
“I know, I know.”
“No, wait…!”
“Apgujeong Survivor Club. I heard about it from Vice Minister—”
Yeo Do-yeon grabbed my wheelchair and pulled me to the TV, jabbing her finger at the screen.
Yang Il-ho and Lee Ho-jung were staring at the TV with a dazed look.
Lee Ho-jung muttered under her breath.
“Seok-ho…”
“What?”
I immediately turned my focus to the screen.
Kang Seok-ho. Unit 3. The same Seok-ho we left behind in Yeouido was fighting monsters on TV.
…Hmm.
Hmmm.
Alright.
As a National Assemblyman, I couldn’t just sit by and watch survivors trapped in Apgujeong.
A rather picturesque idea began forming in my mind.
* * *
Footnotes:
[1] The phrase “three visits to the thatched cottage” refers to a famous Chinese historical anecdote from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. It describes how Liu Bei, a prominent warlord, made three humble visits to the thatched cottage of Zhuge Liang, a brilliant strategist, to persuade him to join his cause. The story symbolizes persistence, humility, and the recognition of another’s value. In this chapter, the protagonist uses the phrase metaphorically to express their determination to personally recruit the pyrokinetic, emphasizing both the difficulty and the importance of the task.