Ch.309309. Adjustment (2)

Thus, the National Assembly convened its first plenary session under the parliamentary cabinet system since the first general election. Due to its symbolic and historical significance, all attending members participated with tense expressions.

“I will approve Park Cheol-gon as Prime Minister and authorize the establishment of the cabinet.”

“Thank you, Ms. Yu-na.”

Yu-na personally attended the plenary session to approve Park Cheol-gon, the leader of the Constitutional Democratic Party, as Prime Minister and authorize the cabinet’s establishment. Prime Minister Park Cheol-gon formalized the cabinet’s launch with appropriate ceremony.

With this, the new cabinet to govern Seorabeol’s administration was launched. At that moment, Park Cheol-gon addressed all political parties attending the plenary session with a raised voice.

“Now we must create a nation that has overcome the apocalypse—a country belonging not to any individual, but to everyone. The Dragon God will watch over us but will not interfere. We must widely proclaim that the era of humanity has begun.”

While emphasizing harmony and unity, he also voiced the Constitutional Democratic Party’s platform—a reasonable starting point.

As Prime Minister Park called for unity and integration across all factions, Hwang Geun-chul, who had taken the Speaker’s position, began to respond flexibly as the leader of the Dragon God Association.

“Though our political affiliations differ, don’t both the Dragon God Association and the Constitutional Democratic Party share the same devotion to our nation? We must all cooperate with the cabinet to overcome the apocalypse and return to pre-apocalyptic living conditions! Don’t you representatives, elected by citizens who no longer wish to face apocalyptic reality, understand this?”

When the Dragon God Association, the main opposition party, expressed its willingness to cooperate with the administration, many representatives also indicated their intention to collaborate with the Constitutional Democratic Party’s government according to their own beliefs.

However, not all representatives intended to cooperate with the Constitutional Democratic Party.

The Constitutional Democratic Party and Dragon God Association weren’t the only parties to enter the National Assembly in this general election. Several parties claiming to represent a third position had also succeeded in entering parliament. Among them, the Korea First Party, with a lukewarm expression, began openly attacking the government.

In particular, the remarks of Hong Jin-beom, the Korea First Party’s representative, shook the plenary session hall roughly.

“You call this a cabinet? Isn’t this country a monarchy? So why are the Constitutional Democratic Party and Dragon God Association dividing power between themselves? This is neither democratic nor monarchical—just an abnormally hybrid system!”

As Hong Jin-beom shouted for division, several young representatives who opposed unity and harmony began applauding. Prime Minister Park Cheol-gon, sitting in the Prime Minister’s seat, lowered his head with a sigh and an expression that said “That guy’s causing trouble again.” But soon, with a patient demeanor, he quietly refuted the Korea First Party’s claims.

“I disagree. Seorabeol has gauged the public will through voting, and this election’s direction reflects what the people wanted. Above all, both Dragon God Bahamut and the Priestess emphasized unity and harmony for Seorabeol’s first steps.”

It was essentially a warning—regardless of any objections, both the Dragon God and the Priestess had advocated for this path, so they should moderate their tone. However, to the Korea First Party, which wanted to break the two-party system and seize power, it sounded like a threatening rebuttal.

Therefore, Hong Jin-beom and his Korea First Party didn’t back down, instead countering Park Cheol-gon’s statement with a seemingly mocking tone.

“Unity sounds nice, but just because we eventually sit at the same table, does that make the table just?”

“It’s difficult at first. But we must strive to accomplish this difficult task.”

“Ridiculous.”

Despite the Korea First Party’s opposition, parliamentary politics gradually became orderly as most representatives supported unity and harmony. Thanks to this orderly parliament, the administration run by the Constitutional Democratic Party began to normalize.

However, as this system continued, the appeal of third-position parties gradually diminished. Korea First Party representatives, fearing loss of seats in the next election five years later, began systematically obstructing cabinet operations—not only by unconditionally opposing bills or politicizing policy inquiries, but even by publicly questioning the Priestess’s authority.

“They weren’t helpful during the election so I ignored them, but now that the election is over, they’re useful.”

For this purpose, they needed to radicalize public opinion, making contact with extremist groups inevitable.

As the Korea First Party made proper contact, extremist groups that had been fading away began to revive. With political party support, they started spreading conspiracy theories across various social networks—claiming Seorabeol’s founding wasn’t legitimate and questioning whether Dragon God Bahamut’s declaration of neutrality was truly neutral.

They even made claims that made listeners doubt their ears, such as arguing that the national reconstruction budget proposed by the Constitutional Democratic Party and Prime Minister Park Cheol-gon—which included coin money no different from oil money—was too small, suggesting Dragon God Bahamut was embezzling coin money.

“I want to slaughter all these potential traitors. Why should I listen to such would-be traitors? I’m not enduring this because I want to!”

“Your thoughts escaped your mouth.”

“Oh no!”

Despite emphasizing unity and harmony, Park Cheol-gon began feeling his patience reaching its limit as they seemed to be sinking back into pre-apocalyptic quagmires.

While the administration remained stable thanks to Dragon God Bahamut’s trust, some citizens were beginning to waver due to baseless conspiracy theories.

Most citizens did strongly welcome and support the cabinet and Bahamut’s unity approach. However, due to the Korea First Party’s baseless claims, they were falling into ideological confrontation rather than implementing the most important post-founding policies, and administrative resources were increasingly being diverted to such pointless matters.

Like it or not, they were representatives elected by the people, so seriously examining their claims was also part of the cabinet’s role.

At least until now, this had been a parliamentary issue, and since the Prime Minister himself hadn’t intervened, with the Constitutional Democratic Party handling the response, Park Cheol-gon’s concerns hadn’t been too prolonged.

Thus, the first National Assembly general election ended as Seorabeol’s great first step symbolizing peace and harmony.

“Can the Awakened and ordinary people truly be considered the same citizens?”

How nice it would have been if things had continued quietly, he thought several times. Unfortunately, once the national event of the election ended, the public’s eyes turned to social issues they had previously ignored.

“So, is an Awakened person’s vote equal to that of an ordinary person who hasn’t awakened?”

Yes, it was the question of whether the Awakened and ordinary people were truly the same citizens.

For example, one political commentator said in a media interview:

“In fact, many ordinary citizens felt a certain emptiness in this election. They voted, but national policy directions mostly flowed toward Awakened-centered interests—Awakened politicians, Awakened interest groups, Awakened welfare budgets. They felt that while votes were equal, actual influence was different.”

This statement spread rapidly throughout Seorabeol via social networks, and numerous complaints began to surface.

“My vote has the same weight as that monster’s?”

“What good is being Awakened? They take my job and get more benefits.”

“The political establishment is all on the Awakened’s side. Ordinary people are just statistics.”

Ordinary people began expressing dissatisfaction with the Awakened-priority policies that had been implemented since before Seorabeol’s administration was established.

During wartime, prioritizing combat-capable Awakened made sense, but now that peace had arrived, they argued all such privileges should be abolished.

Indeed, Seorabeol had prioritized housing facilities for the Awakened, assigned healing mages preferentially to them, and even maintained dedicated hospitals for Awakened who left the front lines.

During wartime, when fighting the Cult of Immortality, these policies weren’t controversial at all. But now that the war had ended, they became among the most fiercely debated policies, and citizens began expressing dissatisfaction with Seorabeol’s prioritization of the Awakened.

They argued that such budgets should be used for citizens, or that the government should prove its commitment to citizens through actions, not just words.

Conversely, the Awakened were quietly angered by these citizen reactions.

“We saved this country. We stopped the apocalypse. What more do they want?”

“Humans who hid throughout the war now want to play hero just because they pay taxes?”

“Ordinary people call it ‘discrimination,’ but isn’t it just because they’re incompetent?”

These reactions came primarily from Awakened working in mid-sized guilds or as freelancers, rather than from the three major guilds or large guilds that the government kept on a tight leash.

But this was merely the claim of those who, despite not participating in the war, considered themselves the vanguard of this war and the foundation of reconstruction.

“As always, just trust the administration and that’s enough.”

“Even in Gyeongju, they managed the differences between Awakened and ordinary people well. With the Awakened Project, what’s there to worry about?”

Awakened who directly participated in the war didn’t harbor complaints, believing the administration would find some compromise.

Rather, while high-ranking Awakened who understood Seorabeol’s system remained quiet, those who joined Seorabeol midway or at the end expressed more dissatisfaction and demanded more Awakened-focused policies.

“The political establishment is pursuing excessively conciliatory policies toward ordinary people for popularity!”

“Awaken! Awaken!”

“I think I’ll go out for lunch!”

While high-ranking Awakened said nothing, ordinary Awakened expressed such dissatisfaction, leaving Seorabeol’s administration feeling like they were losing their minds—solving one problem only to face another—but they had no choice.

It’s normal for incidents and accidents to never cease in human communities, and even small societies experience countless conflicts and disputes. Considering this, quietly completing reconstruction projects was perhaps an unrealistic wish.

Thus, conflicts between the Awakened and ordinary people began to manifest throughout society. In schools that had just started their semester, bullying issues between Awakened and non-Awakened students were discussed. In multi-family housing areas where Awakened gathered, they became objects of hatred, mocked by extremist groups as “the new rulers’ wall.”

Of course, this wasn’t just an Awakened issue—it affected ordinary people too. There were reports of hate crimes where Awakened assaulted ordinary people, crushing their limbs.

“Now, now. Everyone calm down. Our Constitutional Democratic Party will somehow resolve this conflict.”

“Just being in the same room with that alien makes me feel disgusted.”

“I don’t want to talk to ordinary people either.”

As the situation moved toward extremes, the Constitutional Democratic Party immediately formed a Social Integration Committee to emphasize harmony and unity, but all that occurred were emotional fights between Awakened representatives and ordinary people’s representatives.

This repeatedly derailed meetings, only increasing Prime Minister Park Cheol-gon’s sighs.

“Lord Bahamut, we must activate the artificial Awakened project as soon as possible.”

Finally, judging this a social problem that couldn’t be immediately solved by human power, Park Cheol-gon requested Dragon God Bahamut’s intervention not long after making his decision.

With opinions that failed to understand each other’s existence and communication completely breaking down, what could someone in the Prime Minister’s position do?

Moreover, the newly established nation of Seorabeol had more important national policies and couldn’t concentrate all its resources on a single social conflict.

Therefore, Park Cheol-gon’s conclusion was to increase the progress of the artificial Awakened project, which had long been conducted only in Gyeongju.

“That means building my temple in Seoul. Didn’t we postpone that because it might be criticized as tyranny?”

This meant activating the Bahamut temple construction plan that had been deliberately postponed for fear of being called tyrannical.

“Yes. But it’s necessary despite those side effects.”

However, with such conflicts arising, Prime Minister Park Cheol-gon believed it was his duty to destroy all complaints through rapid reform.

Yes, if all root causes were eliminated, half the current complaints would simply disappear, and for that, a major reform—or rather, a transformation—was inevitable.