Chapter 27: A Hellish Heaven
Translated by Vine | Proofread by Lust
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The zombie apocalypse had transformed the world into a living hell for the ordinary citizen.
All the comforts they once took for granted were gone, and the routines of daily life had become nothing but luxuries now.
Many suffered, despairing at the horrors of this world, convinced it was the embodiment of hell. Yet, there were those who saw this apocalypse as heaven.
One such person was Cho Sun-do, self-proclaimed king of North Gyeongju. In this new world, he had gained things he could have only dreamed of before.
“What a wonderful world this has become,” he thought.
Yes, to others, this was a nightmare. But to him, this was paradise.
In the old world, enjoying luxuries, holding beautiful women, or indulging freely in drugs would have been nearly impossible with South Korea’s strict law enforcement.
Cho Sun-do wasn’t wealthy enough to live lavishly, nor was he attractive enough to court beautiful women. He lacked any real power and had only managed to survive by committing petty crimes.
At best, he’d been a small-time trafficker for a criminal organization, sneaking drugs into the country. Even then, he was just a disposable pawn. The only pleasure he could steal was by secretly sampling the drugs he transported.
“Come here, darling,” he called, smirking.
“…Yes, sir.”
But when the apocalypse struck, everything changed for Cho Sun-do.
Gone was the weak man, discarded by his organization. In his place stood the king of North Gyeongju.
Cho Sun-do had been lucky.
On that fateful day, high out of his mind, he’d killed a zombified gang member in a reckless haze, triggering his Awakening. He was among the first to realize that he could strengthen his abilities not only by killing zombies but by taking human lives as well.
“I can give you anything you desire,” he whispered to the trembling girl beside him.
“Y-Yes… of course,” she replied, her voice shaking.
From there, it had all been simple.
Shedding all remnants of rationality and morality, he abandoned any sense of restraint. He hunted down survivors indiscriminately, looting their supplies and taking their lives to fuel his own power.
Disposing of evidence was laughably easy.
The CCTV systems in the city no longer functioned. He could toss the bodies to passing zombies, who’d eagerly devour the remains. Then, he would hunt the zombies that feasted on his victims.
What efficiency!
To Cho Sun-do, this zombie apocalypse wasn’t hell—it was a heaven handcrafted by the gods to grant him everything he’d ever wanted.
“But… darling, why do you look so glum? Have I done something wrong?”
“N-No, Cho Sun-do, sir… you’re the hero of this place.”
In this world, strength meant you could do anything.
Absolutely anything.
“Are you trying to make me out to be the villain?” he sneered, his voice dropping.
The young woman let out a strangled gasp.
There was no one who could challenge Cho Sun-do now. He had more than enough women to entertain him, young and beautiful ones at that, but they all watched in silence, casting sympathetic looks toward whichever unfortunate girl had caught his attention that day.
They dared not resist.
It was only natural.
Here, Cho Sun-do was the true king of Gyeongju.
“Please… spare me… please… please… have mercy…”
“Why are you saying that? Have I done something wrong?” he asked, feigning innocence.
The woman sobbed, pleading with him for mercy. But her pleas fell on deaf ears.
In this apocalyptic world, Cho Sun-do’s word was law. His truth was reality.
With each strike of his fists, the young woman could only let out desperate, pained cries. The other women around him clenched their fists in fury, their bodies trembling, yet none dared to interfere.
“What’s this? She’s already passed out? I thought an Awakened would last longer,” he muttered, looking down at the woman’s limp body with distaste.
Though she lay unconscious, bruised and battered, he lost interest, seeing her as nothing more than a broken toy.
“Hey! Get this woman patched up!” he barked.
“Y-Yes, sir!”
Despite his cruelty, he didn’t want her dead. Cho Sun-do’s twisted pleasure came from breaking proud, independent women beneath him, making them submit to his whims.
The woman he’d just brutalized had once been a successful career woman—someone he wouldn’t have dared approach in the old world. Now, forcing her into submission was his way of venting his perverse desires.
“Isn’t it a wonderful world?” he mused.
The women around him said nothing.
In his eyes, this was paradise. But to those suffering under him, it was a hell from which there was no escape.
All they could do was remain silent in a feeble form of resistance.
“What are you doing, slave? Didn’t you hear me? Get her healed up. If she doesn’t make it, it’s your life that’s forfeit.”
Gone were the constraints of morality. He lived by his own whims, and those who served him tended to his needs without complaint.
No one dared protest, not even when he killed his slaves for the slightest offense. Any who had objected had long since vanished from his domain.
“Or do you want to end up like those slaves who dared to rebel?”
“N-No, sir!”
Anyone with a conscience who’d tried to stand up to him had been dealt with swiftly.
North Gyeongju was his kingdom.
If he commanded it, they lived. If he willed it, they died.
Once, slaves had dared to revolt, but Cho Sun-do, in his wrath, had shown them no mercy.
He had massacred everyone involved, slaughtering not only the leaders but anyone even remotely connected to them.
Only the female slaves with exceptional beauty were spared, yet even they suffered as mere objects of exploitation for his men.
Terrifying.
Those who had witnessed the brutal end of that revolt looked upon Cho Sun-do with abject terror. They knew he was a tyrant in every sense, and they dared not show any defiance.
Quickly, they carried the unconscious woman out of the room, casting frightened glances behind them.
Left alone, Cho Sun-do looked around the empty room, a bored expression settling on his face.
“This is getting dull.”
The same women.
The same pleasures.
The same luxuries.
At first, he’d been ecstatic, enjoying each day of indulgence in ways he’d never thought possible before the apocalypse. But now, even his twisted life of excess had grown stale.
Holding new women no longer brought any excitement. Luxuries had become routine. Everything he once craved now felt mundane.
His Awakened body even resisted intoxication, rendering drugs less effective than before. Though he could use an extreme dosage to get high, he avoided that risk.
“Damn it. Yoo Soo-sung. Jung Dong-geon…”
Even the house he lived in—a grand building he’d seized—felt insufficient. The self-proclaimed king of Gyeongju deserved more.
He’d tried to recruit Yoo Soo-sung, a renowned architecture professor among the survivors, hoping to build a palace fitting of his title. But Yoo had rejected him, joining the Bahamute Cult instead.
“And Jung Dong-geon! I thought he’d understand!”
Cho Sun-do had expected an ally in Jung Dong-geon, a fellow Awakened leader who ruled with an iron fist. But Dong-geon had abandoned him as well, joining the Bahamute Cult.
Why? Why would he give up his throne?
The only person he’d thought would understand him had left him behind.
Cho Sun-do clenched his fists, furious that they had chosen to follow Bahamut instead of him.
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“I should have taken them when I had the chance,” he muttered, recalling Lee Hyun-ah and Lee Soo-ah, the two sisters who had joined the Bahamute Cult.
He remembered their defiant faces, wanting to see them twisted in pain and fear. He’d entertained countless fantasies about abducting them, making them his own.
And then, there was Choi Yuna.
Of all the women who had eluded him, she was the one he regretted the most.
Before she had joined the Bahamute Cult, Cho Sun-do had often eyed Choi Yuna in the survivor camp, imagining ways to break her. He’d thought about forcing her into submission, taking that defiant spirit of hers and bending it until she begged for mercy. But before he could act, the arrival of mutated zombies had thrown everything into chaos, and in the confusion, Yuna had managed to escape.
“Damn it…” he cursed under his breath.
His fantasies about the women who’d escaped him, the people he’d wanted to subjugate—they all drifted out of his reach long ago. All of them were now beyond his grasp, safely nestled under the protection of the Bahamute Cult in South Gyeongju. That cult was growing larger and stronger by the day, with Bahamut himself as their mysterious and powerful leader.
But Cho Sun-do refused to let it go. He could feel the Bahamute Cult’s influence creeping northward, threatening his kingdom in North Gyeongju.
“Damn it. Damn it. Damn it!”
The rage bubbling within him turned icy, chilling his initial flush of excitement. He despised the Bahamute Cult and everything it represented. The very existence of that “dragon god” Bahamut gnawed at him. How could that creature be allowed to undermine everything he had built?
Of course, he hadn’t been idle.
He’d been spreading rumors on the Gyeongju community boards, trying to convince people that Bahamut was a fraud, a monster preying on human ignorance. He’d rallied the remnants of the city’s underbelly, bandits and thieves who still lurked in the shadows, and united them to oppose the cult. But even with all his efforts, Bahamut’s influence only grew.
“I don’t understand! Why do they follow him so blindly?” he shouted, slamming a fist against the table.
He was the king of Gyeongju, not some grotesque dragon. Why did they not see that? He was human; Bahamut was a creature, a monster. And yet, the people willingly submitted to that beast.
“I am the one destined to rule this world!” he muttered, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white.
Just then, one of his lackeys entered the room, bowing deeply.
“Boss, I’m back.”
“Ah, good. Did you get what I asked for?” Cho Sun-do asked, his voice low and expectant.
The lackey hesitated. “Uh… I wasn’t able to get it, sir.”
“What? You’re telling me you couldn’t get a simple pack of cigarettes?” Cho Sun-do glared at him, the irritation in his voice barely concealed.
The lackey shifted nervously. “It’s not just that, boss. They’re saying they won’t accept any more trades unless it’s in Bahamute Cult currency.”
“What did you say?”
Bahamut again.
Always that damn Bahamut!
Everywhere he turned, the Bahamute Cult was tightening its grip. Even the local merchants and traders now only accepted currency issued by the cult.
“So, they’ve stopped all bartering, and you can’t trade without their coins?” Cho Sun-do asked, voice trembling with barely restrained fury.
The lackey nodded. “Yes, sir. They said we need Bahamute currency, or else… no deal.”
“Then we’ll raid South Gyeongju! Or start printing our own fake currency!” Cho Sun-do snarled, pacing back and forth in frustration.
But even his lackeys showed signs of reluctance. “Uh, sir… attacking South Gyeongju… that’s dangerous. If we make a move, the Bahamute Cult might label us as enemies. We could end up being hunted down by them.”
“Bahamut. Bahamut. Bahamut!” Cho Sun-do shouted, his voice echoing in the empty room.
Why did they believe in that dragon? Why did they flock to that monstrosity instead of bending the knee to him, the rightful king?
“I am the rightful ruler of Gyeongju!” he roared, fists clenched in impotent rage.
This world was supposed to be his. He was supposed to be the one in control, feared and obeyed. But the presence of Bahamut threatened all of that.
He turned to his lackey, his expression suddenly calm and cold. “Gather everyone. It’s time to remind these people who the real king of Gyeongju is.”
“Boss… do you mean… war?”
Cho Sun-do’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “Yes. War. If they won’t recognize me as king, I’ll make them regret it.”
In his mind, this was the way things were meant to be. To take by force, to pillage, to subjugate. That was the truth of this new world. And he would not let Bahamut or anyone else take that from him.
“I will turn this hellish world back into my personal heaven.”
With that, Cho Sun-do set his sights on the Bahamute Cult, vowing to crush them and reclaim his throne, no matter the cost.
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