Chapter 138

Chapter 138
## Chapter 138

### Title: A Call to China

Inside the Blue House.

President Jo Won-hoon massaged his weary eyes after finishing his discussion with Yoo Chan-seok.

“That slippery devil. I truly pegged him for nothing more than a mindless brute swinging his weapons at every monster he encountered.”

That was the typical mold for hunters. Generally, they weren’t the type to weave intricate webs or incite chaos to satisfy a clandestine objective.

Even those who harbored private ambitions rarely possessed the nerve to push things to this extreme a level.

“He is certainly a remarkable individual.”

The man was cunning. He knew that simply asking for help to eliminate Gonsalok wouldn’t stir the Korean government, so he had engineered a scenario where Gonsalok was forced to strike first.

In the face of such an event, Korea was left with no choice but to back the subjugation of Gonsalok led by the headhunter.

“Since it has come to this, we must proceed.”

Jo Won-hoon didn’t particularly enjoy the sensation of a solitary hunter pulling the strings of the nation. However, he was a leader who wouldn’t allow personal irritation to jeopardize the grand strategy.

At the very least, the president of a country had to maintain a certain level of statesmanship. Furthermore, while the manipulation by Yoo Chan-seok was grating, Jo Won-hoon was actually quite satisfied with the inevitable conclusion it would bring.

This was the reason he had limited himself to a brief, stern caution.

Jo Won-hoon drummed his fingers on the mahogany surface in thought before lifting the handset of a secure hotline resting on his desk.

“Connect me with General Secretary Li O-jun.”

A moment of uncertainty hung in the air from the other side before the operator spoke.

—May I inquire as to the nature of this call?

“You may not. Simply put the call through.”

Even if the administration in question was merely a provisional government, it still represented a head of state. Jo Won-hoon typically upheld the standard protocols of international politeness.

On this occasion, however, President Jo Won-hoon felt no inclination to provide such pleasantries. Following a brief pause, a voice resonated through the speaker.

Li O-jun. This was the individual serving as the General Secretary of the People’s National Salvation Party, the entity currently overseeing China’s provisional government.

—President Jo Won-hoon. To what do I owe this unexpected communication?

“General Secretary Li O-jun. A force of Korean hunters is moving to eliminate Gonsalok in Beijing. You will cooperate.”

The words were framed politely, yet the underlying tone was that of a non-negotiable demand. A heavy silence stretched across the line. Finally, Li O-jun found his voice.

—Wait a moment, President Jo Won-hoon. You intend to settle a matter of this magnitude over a telephone line?

“Why? Did you expect me to board a jet and hand-deliver the news?”

Li O-jun fired back with immediate indignation.

—Is that not how proper diplomacy works? We are talking about Beijing’s Erosion Core. You cannot simply declare out of nowhere that ‘Korean hunters are coming to kill Gonsalok, so provide support’ without a single shred of prior consultation or logistical planning!

“Are you raising your voice at me right now?”

Jo Won-hoon’s icy interjection caused the man on the other end to fall silent instantly.

—No, that is not my intention. It is just that this is not a topic suited for a casual phone call.

“What is the issue? We are both short on time, are we not?”

This wasn’t a session for soft diplomacy or mutual concessions. Jo Won-hoon hadn’t contacted Li O-jun to bargain.

“Roughly 30,000 hunters are being mobilized for this mission. Your provisional government is responsible for the supply lines, transport, housing, and all other necessary support services.”

The Korean administration had zero intention of footing the bill for any of it. They were going to shift the entire burden onto China.

—30,000? Stop, we cannot possibly sustain that many hunters!

This wasn’t just a matter of providing food for 30,000 ordinary citizens. These were high-tier hunters. You couldn’t shove them into drafty tents or expect them to eat rotting, foul-smelling scraps.

They demanded high-end lodging and top-tier resources.

—Attempting to provide for them would make the lives of the Chinese citizens even more unbearable.

Jo Won-hoon let out a sharp, mocking breath. It was laughable. It wouldn’t be the citizens who suffered—it would be the personal coffers of the People’s National Salvation Party members.

“General Secretary Li O-jun. Since when did the welfare of the masses become your primary concern? I had no idea you were such a devoted servant of the people.”

Jo Won-hoon was well aware of the inner workings of that grandly named provisional body.

Even as their nation lay in tatters, Li O-jun and his associates in the People’s National Salvation Party were preoccupied with hoarding personal wealth.

The phrase “Rebuilding China” was nothing more than a hollow marketing tool. Having grabbed power during the collapse, Li O-jun and his circle had no interest in noble endeavors.

Ensuring their own luxury was their only true goal.

—Regardless, what you ask is impossible. We cannot do it.

“You are, of course, permitted to decline. The Republic of Korea holds the sovereignty of its neighbors in the same high regard as its own.”

Li O-jun exhaled a small breath of relief at Jo Won-hoon’s statement.

“However, if you refuse, we will immediately issue a mandatory recall for every Korean hunter currently active within Chinese borders, including the units in Nanning.”

—What?! Wait, on what grounds could you possibly justify such a move?

Jo Won-hoon’s answer was cold and direct.

“We have gathered intelligence suggesting that Gonsalok in Beijing is preparing an imminent assault on Korea. Defending our own borders is our highest priority.”

If every Korean hunter fulfilling contracts in China were to vanish, the defensive lines currently maintained by the provisional government would crumble.

Japan, at least, possessed some internal hunters, even if they were of mediocre quality. China’s provisional government, however, had virtually none.

They were almost entirely dependent on Korean manpower for their survival.

If those warriors were pulled out in a single wave, the monsters would pour in as if invited, and the provisional government would be erased.

“Ah, but if you are inclined to be cooperative, I do have a suggestion.”

—I am listening.

Jo Won-hoon went on in a calm, measured voice.

“The Republic of Korea will provide the necessary supplies for the hunters on credit to your government. Once the operation is concluded, you will reimburse us in Korean won for the value of those goods.”

It wasn’t a donation—it was a high-interest loan. And the debt had to be paid in hard currency. Naturally, the supplies themselves would be used exclusively by the Koreans.

—You are proposing that we take on a massive debt to pay for Korean goods that will be consumed by Korean hunters? What kind of logic is that…

“As I mentioned, the Republic of Korea respects the sovereignty of other nations. The decision rests entirely with you.”

If he said no, every single Korean hunter would depart China. Most of the hunter guilds were based in Korea and received significant state subsidies.

Very few firms would dare to ignore a direct mandate from the Korean government.

“Oh, and when the time comes to settle the debt, we will calculate the value of those supplies based on current Chinese market rates.”

Jo Won-hoon was planning to bury the Chinese provisional government under a mountain of debt they could never escape.

The cost of basic goods in China had skyrocketed to insane levels. Pricing Korean imports at those hyper-inflated local rates would result in a staggering total.

“Frame it correctly to your citizens. After all, the destruction of Gonsalok is a primary goal of your party, isn’t it?”

Turning this into a political victory would be simple.

They could just claim that the People’s National Salvation Party had successfully pressured Korea into launching the attack, leaving out the fine print. No one in China would ever be privy to the contents of this call anyway.

—And if we find ourselves unable to pay it back?

“Then you can settle the account with land. China is vast. Carving off a few slices to hand over wouldn’t even be noticed.”

Jo Won-hoon began jotting notes on a pad as he spoke.

“Hebei, Shandong, and Jiangsu should suffice as collateral.”

—That would encompass both Shanghai and Beijing…

Jo Won-hoon gave a hearty, cheerful laugh and responded in a surprisingly warm tone.

“Don’t let it worry you. When the day comes, if you are prepared to offer a reasonable price, we can discuss selling them back to you.”

Li O-jun could only shake his head in disbelief—Korea wasn’t just planning to hold the land for years; they were already plotting to sell it back for a profit.

This was a mugging without a weapon. And Jo Won-hoon delivered the final blow with a polished insult.

“China is a world power, is it not? This arrangement is beneficial for China as well, so please demonstrate the generosity that is expected of a great nation.”

A world power? Li O-jun’s face twisted in a silent snarl. It was obvious to everyone who the real power was in this conversation.

Korea was grabbing everything they could reach, squeezing it dry, and then saying, “You’re a big country, right? Don’t sweat the small stuff.”

Li O-jun felt sickened, but he was powerless to fight back.

“Ah, and you are more than welcome to use my final remark for your internal propaganda.”

Korea had acknowledged China as a great power. That alone could quiet the angry masses.

If the hunt for Gonsalok succeeded, China would be trapped in debt. If they couldn’t pay, prime territory would become Korean property.

If the public began to riot, Li O-jun could use that soundbite to soothe their pride in a crisis.

—I understand, President Jo Won-hoon. We will accept your terms.

“Excellent. We will draw up the specifics and forward them to you.”

Even when the documents arrived, China would have no choice but to sign. Jo Won-hoon wouldn’t budge on a single word, and Li O-jun was well aware of that fact.

After the line went dead, Li O-jun’s fury boiled over. He grabbed an invaluable porcelain vase and hurled it against his ebony desk, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

“That absolute son of a bitch!”

Breathing heavily and staring at the ruins of the ceramic, he turned to leave the room—only for the phone to chime once more.

It was President Jo Won-hoon again.

Li O-jun’s dark, murderous expression shifted into a bright mask of compliance the moment he answered.

“Yes, of course? Ah… I understand completely. That sounds marvelous.”

The reason for the second call wasn’t a matter of state. Jo Won-hoon was simply promising substantial private bribes in exchange for his cooperation.

Li O-jun, who had been shaking with rage just seconds before, was now struggling to hide his delight. Korea had guaranteed him enough personal wealth to acquire thirty or forty major buildings.

When considering the vast territories China would lose for these personal kickbacks, it was reminiscent of the historical sale of Louisiana to the Americans.

No—even that transaction had the justification of keeping the land out of British hands. This was far worse.

—And should the mission against Gonsalok fail, the debt for the supplies can be settled by transferring ownership of several mines in Guangdong, Fujian, and Zhejiang.

Li O-jun felt a brief pang of hesitation. “Several” mines—there was no telling how many Korea intended to seize.

“We shall proceed with that arrangement.”

The doubt, however, was short-lived.

‘China is finished regardless.’

There was no point in staying on a sinking ship like the Titanic. Li O-jun convinced himself that he was simply being practical.

The vital thing was to grab the riches that were currently within his reach.

He walked over to the window, looking down at the sprawling, miserable slums that sat in the shadow of the skyscraper.

“I have no desire to live among those who boil discarded food dust and call it a meal.”

Li O-jun whispered the words to the empty room and looked away. He felt no loyalty to a dying country. With that hollow justification, he pushed his nation even closer to the edge of the abyss.