A Gate Opened On My First Day As A Politician - Chapter 31: North Wind (2)

China pushed monsters into the Korean Peninsula. They shoved every monster from their northeastern border into Korea like madmen.

North Korea detonated a nuclear bomb without consultation. Asking for help first would have been humiliating for them. As a result, fallout became a game of Russian roulette.

The north wind blows.

“First, I apologize for my extreme remarks.”

I stepped out from the podium and bowed at a 90-degree angle.

I kept my head bowed for a long time.

This was tomorrow’s front-page news.

“But.”

A brief silence followed. The pause drew attention to my next words.

“Is this a world where extreme actions don’t require apologies?”

—

For this moment, I hadn’t slept for three days and nights. My bloodshot eyes burned, and my voice, hoarse from exhaustion, began to speak.

“The South Korean Air Force uses a bomb called the MK84. It costs $3,100 each. That’s about 3.5 million won in our currency.”

Yesterday, I screamed like a lunatic at home, scratching my throat raw. My cracked and feeble voice streamed through the microphone.

The image was clear: a young politician losing sleep out of concern for the nation.

“The F-15K fighter jets of the South Korean Air Force can carry seven bombs each. That’s 25 million wo. And 40 fighter jets are preparing to take off to aid North Korea. That’s 1 billion won.”

I waved a stack of papers I had received from Cha Jae-kyun.

Officially, it was an operational plan I had secretly acquired.

“This is the operational plan. Three airstrikes have been scheduled. A total of 3 billion won. And to prepare these fighter jets, we launched the first and second FX programs, spending 4.6 trillion and 2.9 trillion won, respectively.”

With a blank expression, I flung the stack of papers onto the floor. The pile hit the ground with a slap.

“We are about to use fighter jets prepared at the cost of 7.8 trillion won to drop bombs worth 1 billion won three times. Furthermore, we’re currently unable to secure a stable supply of bombs or jet fuel.”

The room was silent, save for the blinking red light of the live broadcast camera.

“The ‘Monster Damage Recovery Foundation’ includes orphanages for children who lost their families to monsters. However, due to funding issues, these orphanages remain non-operational. Meanwhile, 3 billion won could feed 6,000 orphans for a month.”

I spat out my words, my voice trembling.

Emotion began to creep into my tone.

“The reason why South Korea is stealing food from war orphans is because China shoved monsters into the Korean Peninsula and because North Korea threatened us with nuclear bombs to prolong its regime.”

With a deep frown and dark circles under my eyes, I murmured calmly yet with evident fury.

“I understand. This is international relations, and this is politics. Everyone acts selfishly for their own nation. China did, and so did North Korea.”

I addressed the entire nation.

“Then why are South Korean politicians silent?”

Pointing to the air, I raised my voice for the first time.

In a sudden outburst, I yelled as if unable to control my anger.

My rapid, distorted voice spilled out of the speakers.

With every word, I slammed the podium with my finger as if it might break.

A terrible scream erupted from my cracked throat.

“They sent monsters to our land! They scattered radiation! And what are our country’s leaders doing? Right now!”

Bang! At the end, I pounded the podium so hard it seemed it might shatter.

Some reporters covered their mouths.

I had crossed the line of political decorum.

Of course, this was a deliberate breach.

With a somber expression, I began to choke up.

“…Two million. Two million people have died.”

The voice of a young politician filled with rage echoed.

A single tear rolled down my cheek.

How many negotiations had been made to secure this stage? Yang Pan-seok must be smiling contentedly at his TV right now.

“Monsters keep pouring out of the Gate. Half of Seoul’s citizens…! Are trapped inside their homes, dying, even now…!”

Though the National Assembly put the Monster Response Special Committee in charge with the guilds at the forefront, the reality was that I had single-handedly founded the guild. The Assembly had merely claimed the credit.

That was why I could criticize them now.

Give and take.

“But why is the military… Why is the military aiding the North Korean regime while citizens are suffering right before their eyes…?”

And.

The military didn’t need public support.

Military command wasn’t under Won Ok-bun’s control but was effectively handled by Cha Jae-kyun through prearranged agreements with the political sphere.

No matter how much I criticized the military here, they wouldn’t suffer a scratch.

Shadowboxing.

That was the essence of what I was doing. The amusing part of shadowboxing was that it still yielded rewards.

The more the public was stirred, the higher my recognition would soar. As I often said, politicians are beasts that live off attention.

And.

Now, Cha Jae-kyun would say this to the North:

“Due to domestic public opinion, we will reduce support.”

—

Though I vehemently criticized Cha Jae-kyun, in reality, both of us stood to gain.

On top of that.

I managed to curb Cha Jae-kyun’s political ambitions.

As a soldier, Cha Jae-kyun remained untarnished by my attacks, but as a politician, he took a significant hit.

This was the strategy we had devised.

Balance of power. Mutual benefit.

I gained political capital by denouncing the military and the National Assembly.

The National Assembly stole my achievements to propel the Monster Response Special Committee forward.

Won Ok-bun safely ascended as acting president, using Cha Jae-kyun as a shield.

Meanwhile, Cha Jae-kyun secured absolute military authority with tacit approval from the political sphere. Additionally, support to the North could now be scaled back.

It was a symbiotic relationship, with everyone feeding each other scraps of their flesh. This was Korean politics. Creative economy.

I concluded my speech.

“…Everything I’ve said thus far is solely the personal opinion of Assemblyman Han Seung-Moon. I also take full political responsibility for these statements.”

“I am now turning myself in to the police on charges of leaking military operations.”

Of course, I didn’t mention that parliamentary immunity would prevent them from detaining me, or that this was all prearranged and the police wouldn’t actually touch me. Those were secrets.

“…However, I’d like to say one last thing.”

Now was the time to hope for the southeast wind.

“With the help of government officials working tirelessly at the Sejong Government Complex, I was able to gather the remaining Meteorological Administration staff to measure the wind direction. As a result, due to the influence of the summer monsoon, continental winds were blowing. In other words, the southeast wind is blowing. Radioactive fallout is, fundamentally, ash contaminated with radiation. The fallout will blow northward. I sincerely hope the citizens of South Korea do not succumb to fear, and I kindly ask everyone to cooperate with the guidance of local governments with patience and consideration. That is my earnest request. Thank you.”

Staggering, I collapsed into the arms of the police officers and was escorted into a police car. I hung my head low, looking despondent.

Inside the slowly moving police car, I reflected.

“Jininsa Daechunmyeong”
(‘Do everything humanly possible and leave the rest to heaven.’)

Whether the southeast wind would blow or not, I didn’t know. I had done all I could. The rest was up to fate.

A relieved sigh escaped my lips.

“Phew…”

Politics sure is a spectacle.

That’s how my first month as an Assemblyman came to an end.

—

The detention at the police station lasted only one night.

The next morning, ten Assemblymen—excluding Won Ok-bun and myself—gathered outside the police station, demanding my release.

In front of the police station, an elderly politician and a young politician shook hands, reconciled, and hugged tearfully, pledging to dedicate themselves to the nation.

Yang Pan-seok’s operation was complete.

Day 1: Cha Jae-kyun delivers a partial solution.
Day 2: Won Ok-bun stirs national pride immediately upon her inauguration.
Day 3: The National Assembly and the guilds strike a follow-up blow.
Day 4: I mitigate the side effects of the nationalism.
Day 5: National unity.

In just five days, life began returning to the country.

According to the Deputy Minister of Finance, even when the police cracked down on panic buying, there was no backlash. As public sentiment calmed, companies that had been acting recklessly began to restrain themselves.

Yang Pan-seok quickly started pushing special legislation through the National Assembly. These would likely be quietly passed later when public scrutiny had eased.

Cha Jae-kyun’s headaches with large-scale refugee protests were temporarily resolved, and support for North Korea was significantly reduced. Given the negative public opinion caused by their actions, they had little to say.

Won Ok-bun, acting as interim president, began restoring the administrative system based out of the Sejong Government Complex and took control by cracking down on a few chaebols causing trouble.

Most importantly, the Han Seung-Moon Foundation gained significant recognition, and voluntary donations for operating orphanages began pouring in. In just two days, six billion won was raised.

“This… is how a country should work…”

I laid down on a soft bed, satisfied. Hugging a pillow, I rolled around. It felt cozy.

How meticulously had I planned all this, losing sleep to execute such a grand scheme alongside the country’s most powerful figures? My mind felt like it was splintering apart.

I enjoyed my brief vacation.

I went shopping with my aunt for a new suit and prosthetic leg, took reporters to the guild to snap a few photos with hunters, and returned home to devour two plates of sashimi my uncle had prepared. Then, I sprawled on the couch with Yeo Do-yeon, watching a weekend variety show.

Scratching my round ankle absentmindedly, I thought, ‘Today, I can sleep peacefully.’

Slowly, I closed my eyes—

Poke. Someone jabbed my cheek.

“Hey.”

“……”

“Are you ignoring me?”

Poke. Poke. I stubbornly pretended to be asleep, refusing to yield to violence.

“Do you really want to wear rabbit-print pajama pants at your age?”

“W-Well, you’re hiding bunny pajamas in the third drawer— Ah! Ow! Ack!”

Yeo Do-yeon mercilessly jabbed my side. Groggily, I sat up on the bed, swaying, as Yeo Do-yeon bluntly scolded me.

“Hey, 27-year-old kid. Get up already.”

“You’re 28…”

“Shut up.”

“I’m in my mid-20s, and you’re in your late 20s—Ow!”

A loud slap on my forehead sent my weakened body collapsing back onto the bed.

“Get up.”

“Just kill me…”

“Really?”

I flailed my round ankle weakly.

“Put on my prosthetic.”

“Ugh…”

Yeo Do-yeon sighed, frowning deeply as she carefully attached the prosthetic. I steadied my shaky body.

“Let’s go.”

“…Okay.”

Taking Yeo Do-yeon’s hand, I got out of bed.

Supporting my wobbling frame, Yeo Do-yeon helped me to the front door. That’s when my mind cleared, and my blurry vision returned.

“……”

“……”

At the door, Pi Chae-won was staring at me with a peculiar expression. I jabbed Yeo Do-yeon in the side.

“Hey, I’m wearing pajamas.”

“Yeah.”

“You could’ve told me to change.”

“I did.”

“That was telling me to change?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you even human?”

With a devilish grin, Yeo Do-yeon turned and disappeared into the room, leaving me standing there in my rabbit-print pajamas as Pi Chae-won stared blankly at me.

“……”

“……”

“…Hi?”