Dong-Joo's voice rose sharply, slicing through the tense air with his scathing critique. The government's inability and sheer irresponsibility in handling the current crisis were pushing him to the brink.
"So, tell me," Kim Jeong-Hyeon said, his tone calm but his gaze brimming with newfound curiosity.
"What do you think we should do?"
"Have you heard of the Seogang group?" Dong-Joo began, his voice steadying as determination overtook his frustration.
"Based on the intel I've gathered, they're eyeing a bunker on Mount Mudeung. It's situated about a thousand meters above sea level, designed to withstand missile attacks. Strategic, fortified—practically perfect."
Kim raised an eyebrow but remained silent, his expression unreadable.
"Our plan," Dong-Joo continued, his voice tinged with a faint trace of hope,
"is to try building a bunker of our own. If that proves impossible, I'll consider joining Seogang. But that's a last resort."
"Joining them?" Kim finally spoke, his voice tinged with skepticism.
"That's a highly risky move. You know who Gio-Seong is, don't you? The man's ruthless, notorious for looking out only for himself. Dealing with him might bring more danger than it's worth."
"I know," Dong-Joo admitted, his shoulders straightening as resolve hardened his features.
"That's why I've got another plan."
Kim's interest piqued visibly. "And what plan might that be?"
"First, I'll meet with Professor Oh Seung-Hyeon. He's an expert in earthquake-resistant technology. If he agrees to help, I'll then approach Jang Jae-Gun, the owner of a major construction company, to handle the bunker's construction."
Kim leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing as he assessed Dong-Joo. "You've thought this through, haven't you?"
"Of course." Dong-Joo's voice softened, his confidence wavering just enough to hint at the weight of the situation. "But… building a fully equipped bunker, complete with survival facilities, costs an astronomical amount. That's why I've come to see you, Mr. Kim."
A thin smile spread across Kim Jeong-Hyeon's face, his sharp eyes gleaming with consideration. As a successful lawyer and one of Gwangju's most influential investors, Kim was no stranger to ambitious projects. His wealth spanned luxury high-rises, grand art museums, and his pivotal role as chairman of Moonlight Credit Union. Beneath his calm demeanor, his mind churned through the possibilities.
"Hah!" he chuckled, breaking the silence with a soft laugh.
"You're right, Dong-Joo. If the world truly crumbles, all my wealth will mean nothing. Frankly, I haven't planned for anything like this. Hearing your bold ideas… it's a bit humbling, really."
"Please, don't say that," Dong-Joo replied modestly, lowering his head slightly.
Kim reached out, clasping Dong-Joo's shoulder in a gesture of warm reassurance. "I trust you. Do what you think is best. As for the funding, leave it to me. And if push comes to shove and we need to deal with Seogang, I'll handle it."
A wave of relief washed over Dong-Joo, and he exhaled deeply. This was the first and most crucial step—securing a solid source of funding. Without it, his dreams of a bunker would remain just that: dreams. But now, with Kim Jeong-Hyeon's support, the faint glimmer of possibility began to feel like something far more tangible.
*****
Dong-Joo let out a long sigh as he stepped out of the restaurant. Lunch with Director Kim Jeong-Hyeon and Lawyer Kim Su-Yeon had barely ended, yet his thoughts were already racing ahead to his next meeting at Hanbit University with Professor Oh Seung-Hyun. Sliding into the car, he immediately commanded his AI assistant to play the latest news. Curiosity tugged at his mind, especially regarding the much-discussed government announcement.
The familiar cadence of the news anchor's voice filled the car, but the content was disappointingly repetitive.
"Not much different from yesterday," he murmured under his breath, a hint of frustration lacing his tone.
Today's briefing, despite earlier promises of a detailed explanation from experts, was instead handled by Major General Ha Dong-Gi from the Military Emergency Command. His statements were perfunctory at best, as though fulfilling an obligatory duty. Meanwhile, the President, who should have been at the forefront in such critical times, remained conspicuously absent.
Journalists had relentlessly pressed for a direct statement from the President, only to receive the same rehearsed response as the day before: the President was preoccupied with National Security Council meetings and consultations with foreign leaders. It sounded formal, almost reasonable, but it left the public feeling hollow.
Then, a piece of news broke through the monotony, seizing Dong-Joo's attention. The government announced that in the coming days, a spacecraft equipped with tactical nuclear weapons from the United States would be launched from the Naro Space Center in Goheung, Jeollanam-do.
His brow furrowed deeply. South Korea had gained experience launching satellites and even unmanned asteroid probes, but sending a manned spacecraft into space was an entirely different challenge. What unsettled him even more was the choice of spacecraft. Instead of utilizing cutting-edge technology like America's Dream Chaser, the mission would employ the Atlantis, a retired space shuttle last flown in 2011.
Dong-Joo leaned closer as the news anchor elaborated. The spacecraft had three major components: the Orbiter Vehicle, the External Tank, and the solid rocket boosters. The orbiter faced the daunting task of traveling into space, launching nuclear missiles to destroy the asteroid Apophis, and safely returning to Earth.
He shook his head slightly, his skepticism growing. The shuttle would first have to be transported to South Korea via an Airbus A380, a colossal logistical effort in itself. On top of that, the government was heavily promoting mission recruitment, which left him with more questions than answers.
"Hardly anyone in this country has even been to space," he muttered, his voice barely audible.
"And now they're entrusting a mission of this magnitude to civilians with no training?"
His gaze wandered to the car window, where the cityscape blurred into a swirl of colors. His thoughts drifted far beyond the horizon, chasing the trajectory of the spacecraft that was yet to launch. In the quiet hum of the moving car, he wondered if this mission was a desperate gamble, or if there was even a glimmer of hope.