A Gate Opened On My First Day As A Politician - Chapter 4: Superpowers on the Red Han River (1)

“We need to get to a safe place first. Where should we go?”

“The military,” Yeo Do-yeon answered briefly, and I nodded.

“Where’s the nearest military base from here?”

I had no idea—I was exempt from service due to my disability. Yeo Do-yeon and Lee Ho-jung were women, and Yang Pan-seok, a war veteran, had pulled strings to go to Vietnam for national honors.

That left only Yang Il-ho, our sole military veteran.

“Right, Il-ho. Where’s the closest military base?”

Yang Il-ho sighed.

“Just because I served doesn’t mean I know every military post.”

“Ah, true.”

“Hyung, are you exempt?”

“…Yes. Seventeenth Division. Capital Defense Command.”

Representative Yang’s eyes gleamed.

“I was on the National Defense Committee during my first term.”

“Of course, sir. You would be.”

“The Seventeenth Division is in Incheon, and the Capital Defense Command is in Gwanak.”

The Seventeenth Division lay to the west, the Capital Defense Command to the south. Following the Han River, heading toward the Seventeenth Division might make sense.

But whether the Seventeenth Division or Capital Defense Command could handle those monsters was another question. They mostly had infantry with rifles. Frankly, I doubted small arms could do much against monsters the size of buildings.

More importantly, most of South Korea’s military forces were stationed up north, at the border.

“…What about heading north?”

Everyone turned their attention to me.

“We need to regroup with the military, but we should aim to reach a base with tanks and artillery. Il-ho, does your internet work?”

“Let me check… Nope, no connection.”

“Then, this means the monsters haven’t just targeted Yeouido. What network are you on?”

“KSK.”

“Everyone, please check if other networks are still working.”

Yeo Do-yeon and Lee Ho-jung each responded.

“LU+ internet is still up.”

“MU network is down.”

Relieved, I gave instructions.

“Noona, while the internet is still working, search for maps of the area and take screenshots. Capture everything along the left side of the Han River, all the way up to the military base in Paju.”

I could hear her frantically taking screenshots.

“Representative Yang, would heading north along the Han River be better? Trying to reach the Capital Defense Command or Seventeenth Division might be…”

“Get to the point.”

“I think both the Seventeenth Division and Capital Defense Command will be overwhelmed. There should be tanks stationed near Paju. Let’s head that way.”

“We’re already on course.”

“Thank you.”

I didn’t know much as a civilian, but I knew Paju was on the front lines. They would have tanks and artillery. I looked it up on my phone and confirmed that the 2nd Armored Brigade was in Paju.

“Let’s head for the 2nd Armored Brigade in Paju. Going to crowded areas will only attract monsters.”

There was one more issue to address.

Family.

“Noona, where are Aunt and Uncle?”

“I called earlier. They’re in Tongyeong.”

“What about monsters?”

“I don’t know. Seems like there aren’t any.”

At least they were in South Gyeongsang Province—that was a relief.

Il-ho was an orphan. No family, no romantic partner, no one besides us.

Which brought me to Lee Ho-jung.

“Ho-jung, are your family members safe—”

“They’re fine. Don’t worry about them.”

Her tone implied she had a terrible relationship with her family. A blessing in times like these.

Now, Representative Yang Pan-seok.

Since his district was in Jeolla Province, most of his family was there, and his son-in-law’s family was in Busan, where he worked for the prosecutor’s office.

The only problem was his granddaughter, who attended a prestigious school in Seoul. I’d even given her a ride a few times, so I knew her face.

“…Representative Yang, by any chance, is your granddaughter…”

“She’s on a school trip. They went to Gyeongju. What a stroke of luck…”

“Then it sounds like your family is safe. That’s a relief.”

“…Yes.”

No one seemed to have family left to worry about, so heading to Paju—

—Ring ring! Ring ring!

My phone. Cautiously, I answered. It was Aunt.

“Hello?”

“Seung-Moon! Seoul right now, are you—”

“Noona and I are both safe. We’re escaping to safety. Are there any monsters where you are?”

“Oh… Thank goodness. Oh, thank the Lord…”

“Any monsters?”

“No, none…”

Thank God.

“Aunt So-jung, can you give me a quick, concise summary of what you know from the news?”

“There’s been a biological attack in Seoul, the National Assembly building has collapsed, and strange monsters are… oh, god…”

She took a deep breath. In the background, I could hear my uncle frantically demanding, “Let me talk to him!” but thankfully, she didn’t hand over the phone.

“Strange creatures have appeared in central Seoul, killing people. Martial law has been declared, and the military is moving in to suppress them.”

“All right. My phone’s battery is precious right now, so I’ll hang up. Love you, stay safe, and we’ll get back in one piece. Please pass my regards to Uncle, and we’ll initiate contact if necessary.”

Click.

“All right, to Paju. Martial law has been declared, and the military is involved.”

“…”

“…”

Everyone stared at me strangely.

Yang Pan-seok nudged me while driving.

“You’re my type.”

* * *

What happened to Kang Seok-ho?

No one was asking questions like that. We moved forward in silence.

On shaking legs, Lee Ho-jung approached me.

“Excuse me… there are people…”

She pointed below deck.

From inside the yacht’s cabin, we could faintly hear the voices of about a dozen people waving frantically and shouting for help. What they were saying was obvious.

Some had even jumped into the river, desperately swimming toward us. A reckless move, to be sure.

I took both of Lee Ho-jung’s cheeks in my hands. It looked as if I was holding her head.

“Supplies, safety, control.”

If the evacuation dragged on, we’d need food to sustain them. They posed a potential threat. And with an unpredictable group, struggles for control could arise.

These were the reasons we couldn’t take them aboard. Wordlessly, she went back to her corner and sat down. As a National Assembly aide, she was educated enough to understand.

—Smack!

Yeo Do-yeon’s fist landed squarely on my face.

“Is this what I taught you, you bastard?”

“…Can’t you use words?”

Holding my throbbing face, I rose and addressed everyone.

“Shall we let them on?”

The answer was clear from their faces alone.

In favor: Lee Ho-jung, Yang Il-ho, Yeo Do-yeon

Opposed: Yang Pan-seok, me

As a rule, Yang Pan-seok avoided making enemies.

“…Turn around. But this is the last time.”

* * *

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

A young mother clutched her child tightly, bowing in gratitude. Beside her, Yeo Do-yeon, Yang Il-ho, and Lee Ho-jung helped people up onto the yacht.

Seven new passengers. The yacht was large enough that they fit snugly.

They looked visibly shaken, some even clutching the rail to keep from vomiting.

Yeo Do-yeon approached me, looking slightly remorseful. She wore her usual fierce, intimidating expression, but her left eye narrowed slightly—that was her way of showing regret.

“…Does it hurt?”

“Yes.”

She was terrible at apologizing, just like her father. She turned abruptly and went into the cabin without another word. I decided to forgive her, as usual.

* * *

While Representative Yang Pan-seok navigated the yacht furiously along the Han River, the rest of us gathered in the cabin to introduce ourselves.

A family of four and three students. That was my guess.

As everyone hesitated, the family man was the first to speak up.

“Thank you so much. My name is Gam Chul. We were just on a family picnic when suddenly—”

Sensing he was about to go on, I gently placed my hand on his, my expression concerned.

“You must be terrified. I hope the children aren’t too shaken.”

“Yes… it’s a miracle we survived. Thank you. This is my wife, Chun Hwa-ran, my daughter, Gam Ji-yoon, and my son, Gam Seok.”

The woman held a crying baby, and a pretty little girl clung to her hand, looking dazed.

“So you’re Ji-yoon? You must have seen some terrible things. Are you okay?”

“…”

I knelt down to meet her eyes, gently patting her head. She seemed to be a new elementary schooler, nodding absently with a blank expression. It broke my heart.

Next were the students.

“H-hello! I’m Ji-na. Thank you so much for saving us!”

“All right, Ji-na. Are you in high school?”

“Yes.”

She was clearly overwhelmed, responding in short sentences before zoning out, staring into space. I turned to her friends.

“What are your names?”

“…I’m Kim Jae-hoon. Thank you for saving us.”

“…”

The last student suddenly burst into tears, collapsing to the floor, so I didn’t get their name. Not that it mattered; I wouldn’t remember it anyway. The two other students clung to their crying friend and joined in.

In an instant, the yacht cabin was a chorus of sobs.

* * *

I stood beside Representative Yang Pan-seok, watching the yacht cut through the river. In the background, Noona, Il-ho, and Ho-jung were chatting with the newcomers, making the atmosphere lively.

Good.

“It’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Startled, I looked at Yang Pan-seok, who had voiced what I’d been thinking.

“…What do you mean?”

“That they’re back there, laughing and talking. So they don’t have to see this.”

I looked past the yacht’s helm at the red Han River.

People fell from bridges, their severed limbs floating. The yacht pushed through the drifting bodies, occasionally hitting the few who had miraculously swum this far.

He was steering the yacht, grinding people under its propeller without a word.

Curious as to how everyone was laughing without noticing, I glanced back.

“This is what it means to be a politician.”

Yang Pan-seok quietly steered the yacht.

“A politician has to save the people from harsh realities, bearing it all alone, to keep things moving forward.”

“…”

“Sometimes, the people catch a glimpse of the horror and scold us, asking how we could let this happen. But we keep going. Because that’s how a country survives.”

He looked at me with a wry smile.

“Do you understand what I mean?”

I didn’t want to think too hard about it.

“It means I’ll steer the yacht, and you’ll keep the people from looking out the window.”

Hearing this, I chuckled and joined the group, positioning myself to block their view of the outside.

“So, have you all introduced yourselves?”

Everyone greeted me warmly. The father of the family extended both hands for a handshake.

“I didn’t realize you were an assemblyman.”

“Oh, no, that doesn’t really matter.”

“With a man of government at the helm, it’s no wonder you’re so composed. Thank you again for saving my family.”

He stood and gave a slight bow, glancing out the window. But his face remained unchanged, his smile unwavering.

“I’m Gam Chul from the Korea Times. Just call me Reporter Gam.”

The red Han River drifted past the window as we shook hands, smiling against the horrific backdrop. He seemed like someone worth remembering.

Another thing became apparent.

Even as Reporter Gam stood up, everyone else deliberately stayed seated, averting their gazes. As if, in some way, they understood.

Politicians often assume the public knows nothing, but that’s not entirely true.

Sometimes, the people know more than they let on—they just choose to look away.