Ch.8888. Tax Office (2)

# The National Tax Service

Lee Hyeon-a’s mention of the National Tax Service was enough to make even Jeong Dong-geon, the hero of the Pohang recapture, tremble in fear.

What exactly had the National Tax Service done since the founding of the Balhut Cult that would make Jeong Dong-geon, a military representative and brave soldier, shake with fear?

To understand this, one needed to know which government institutions were favored by citizens and members affiliated with the Balhut Cult.

“Which government organization run by the Balhut Cult do I like the most? Why suddenly ask that?”

“It’s a public opinion survey by social class. Since you’re a businessman of sorts, you’re certainly qualified for such a survey.”

“Not ‘of sorts.’ I’m a proper businessman representing the cult. So… the government organization most favored by the cult.”

Let’s examine this from the perspective of Kim Tae-hyun, a businessman who made considerable money in the Balhut Cult, and Kang Jae-wan, a journalist.

Kim Tae-hyun pondered briefly at Kang Jae-wan’s survey question.

“Well, it would be the expedition force led by Mr. Jeong Dong-geon, wouldn’t it? They’re my main client, so naturally I have to like them. Besides, isn’t the expedition force led by Jeong Dong-geon called heroes?”

Kim Tae-hyun answered without hesitation that it was the military led by Jeong Dong-geon.

Frankly, this was partly due to his personal interest as they were his main client, but considering public opinion, it was understandable that the most popular organization was the military led by Jeong Dong-geon.

“They actually liberated villages and towns around Gyeongju. They even liberated Pohang, creating a liberation army narrative!”

In peaceful times, it was difficult to recognize the significance of the military, but now with the apocalypse approaching, the army was faithfully fulfilling its role as humanity’s guardian, protecting everyday life.

The military, under the orders of the Dragon God Bahamut, protected Gyeongju while liberating numerous villages and towns, eventually even liberating Pohang, earning them the narrative of a liberation army.

Honestly, who would dare dislike an army with the narrative of protecting humanity from zombies?

Of course, those being pursued by such an army would naturally dislike them, but Kim Tae-hyun, representing ordinary citizens and entrepreneurs, recognized that the powerful liberation army that successfully liberated Pohang was the only military that could keep them alive and protect them in this apocalypse.

“True. While Dragon God Bahamut finished things off, it was Jeong Dong-geon and his military who were liberating Pohang before that, not Bahamut.”

Kang Jae-wan agreed with the term “liberation army,” stating directly that it was Jeong Dong-geon and his military, not Bahamut, who actually liberated Pohang.

Of course, even as he said this, Kang Jae-wan added:

“Ah, that’s not to say Dragon God Bahamut didn’t contribute. It’s just that his power was so immense that it couldn’t be used recklessly.”

“I know. I witnessed that overwhelming scene.”

It wasn’t that Bahamut hadn’t contributed, but from an ordinary human’s perspective, it wasn’t as tangible.

Rather, the military that gradually built up a liberation narrative and finally unleashed its potential at the end was more relatable.

The liberation of Pohang concluded with the arrival of Dragon God Bahamut, but before that, it was the expedition force led by Jeong Dong-geon that was liberating Pohang.

Because that expedition force played such a significant role, the cult was able to contact survivors remaining in Pohang and achieve this safe integration—at least that’s how ordinary citizens in Gyeongju perceived it.

“Which institution do you like next?”

“Hmm.”

What organization would be the next most impactful to ordinary citizens?

“I’d say it’s the administration led by Sister Su-a Lee.”

“True. Sister Su-a’s swift administrative orders are on a completely different level from the sluggish administrative commands before the apocalypse.”

Realistically, it would be the administration led by Lee Su-a, an administrative official who was incredibly visible to citizens.

Unlike the characteristically slow administrative processing and orders of civil servants before the apocalypse, she handled numerous complaints arising from the apocalypse instantly through rapid and prompt processing and administrative orders, and even swiftly identified and addressed any resulting side effects.

Lee Su-a and the bureaucratic group following her, who processed numerous complaints and adversities within the cult and broke through obstacles with prompt administrative processing, could be a reliable indicator for the cult.

Kim Tae-hyun also greatly benefited from these swift administrative orders, which was one reason he was able to make significant money, so he had no reason to dislike the administration.

“I can also make a living thanks to that person.”

Kang Jae-wan was also favorable toward Lee Su-a because he had found a way to survive as a journalist with her help, and she legally guaranteed that he would be protected even if he exposed the dark realities quietly emerging within the cult.

“And next?”

“That’s tricky.”

They wanted to mention the next most favored organization.

From here, it was likely to enter the realm of personal preference.

Kim Tae-wan and Kang Jae-wan looked at each other with subtle expressions, thought for a moment, and then:

“Even if opinions differ, I suppose Hwang Seung-man’s judiciary is the most decent?”

“I’ve been sued and faced annoying issues because of the laws that person created.”

For the middle position, they mentioned the judiciary led by Hwang Seung-man.

Kang Jae-wan, who exposed contradictions and dark realities within the cult, frankly stated that this wasn’t bad, but Kim Tae-hyun, who had become an entrepreneur, sighed that he had been caught up in troublesome matters because of it.

In reality, establishing a judicial system wasn’t simple, and even now, they were still constructing a new judicial system tailored to the apocalypse, presenting new legal grounds.

However, the temporary laws established before fully constructing the legal system… despite the efforts of Hwang Seung-man and his subordinate judges, unfortunately, there were too many gaps and loopholes between the laws.

Due to those who exploited these gaps and loopholes, Kim Tae-hyun had been sued and faced annoying issues several times despite having done nothing wrong.

“As a businessman, consider it an honor and accept it.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!? And there are definitely problems!”

Distrust in the judiciary exists in any country, and even now, there were citizens complaining about laws that didn’t fit this apocalypse.

The decisive reason why ordinary citizens of the cult had mixed feelings about the judiciary was:

“The reason we dislike the judiciary is that they still haven’t carried out Jo Sun-do’s sentence.”

“Rationally, I can understand, but emotionally, I still can’t comprehend it.”

The main reason was that Jo Sun-do’s sentence had still not been carried out.

Above all, despite Dragon God Bahamut’s stern judgment, the judiciary accepted Jo Sun-do’s appeal, leading to inevitable distrust among cult residents.

Especially the North Gyeongju residents who had experienced Jo Sun-do’s tyranny were greatly disappointed by the judiciary’s choice, and even now, they were protesting daily at the former Gyeongju branch location, demanding Jo Sun-do’s execution.

The distrust from North Gyeongju grew louder the longer Jo Sun-do’s appeal dragged on, and petitions continued to emerge questioning why he wasn’t being punished despite Dragon God Bahamut’s judgment.

“No, even we wouldn’t like Jo Sun-do.”

“Even with the great Bahamut’s judgment, we want to conclude this without legal complications.”

“He deserves execution in this apocalypse. But if we don’t accept the appeal and just finish it, it creates a precedent that could be misused!”

From the judiciary’s perspective, they didn’t think Dragon God Bahamut’s judgment was wrong.

The Gyeongju branch also fully recognized that Jo Sun-do deserved to die even by apocalypse standards, but they had to accept his appeal to prepare for any potential precedent.

From the judiciary’s standpoint, they accepted the appeal because they wanted to punish Jo Sun-do without any complications, but unfortunately, the deep-rooted hatred toward Jo Sun-do remaining in North Gyeongju was criticizing the judiciary.

“Please give us a chance to explain this judgment to you!”

“Go away.”

The judiciary was genuinely aggrieved.

However, law itself had always been a difficult subject for ordinary citizens, easy to be ignorant about.

In fact, even before the apocalypse, most citizens didn’t understand the common-sense judgments made by the judiciary and many were outraged, unable to accept the verdicts.

But the judiciary had its own hardships, having derived judgments through specific legal principles and processes, and very few people bothered to understand this.

Knowing this, the judiciary had recently been trying to resolve the deep-rooted judicial distrust by explaining this judgment in simple terms to the protesters…

“Next is what we dislike.”

“The National Assembly? Or the legislature?”

Next would be an organization that most citizens either disliked or completely ignored.

The legislature, where politicians gathered—what was called the National Assembly before the apocalypse.

Now, Park Cheol-gon and Hwang Geun-chul were representing it, but numerous unnamed politicians were affiliated as members under them.

“It’s hard to call it the National Assembly. It’s more like a parliament.”

“True. Honestly, they lack presence.”

Well, even if called the legislature, the legislative power they could exercise was either monopolized by the Dragon Priestess or partially shared with the administration and judiciary, and there weren’t even enough representatives of the people to constitute a legislature.

However, they were respected as advisors or aides to Bahamut or the Dragon Priestess, could exercise veto power over policies as a parliament, and could gather opinions to formulate policies, thus meeting the minimum requirements of a parliament.

In fact, it was difficult for most citizens to comment on the existence of the parliament because it played such a subtle role that it didn’t deserve to be called a group that should be criticized so much.

Nice to have, fine without. That was about the extent of its presence.

“But somehow it feels unpleasant.”

“And the compromise that politicians advocate doesn’t sit well with me either.”

At this point, the role of politicians was social compromise and persuading citizens of the compromised content.

They were essentially announcing the cult’s policies in front of the people while trying to garner public support for new policies they had conceived.

But the results weren’t particularly good.

“If Bahamut steps in, there’s no problem!”

“Fool! Bahamut wouldn’t deal with such trivial matters!”

“Well, since there’s the Dragon Priestess as his representative… she’ll take care of it!”

Honestly, most Balhut Cult members preferred Dragon God Bahamut, who stayed quietly in the temple, to directly intervene rather than politicians who appeared before the public.

The extensive political hatred that occurred before the apocalypse led to significant distrust of active politicians, and due to the ideological conflicts and left-right divisions it caused, there was a psychology that preferred someone unrelated to those logics to step forward.

In other words, there was distrust of the existing political establishment.

“Well, if you want to do proper politics, the size of the country needs to grow.”

“And considering Bahamut’s achievements so far, they shouldn’t have thought about winning with popularity. Realistically, Prime Minister would be the limit.”

“They should think about policies to comfortably serve Bahamut from now on.”

Politicians naturally felt this movement among citizens.

From now on, politicians had to formulate political strategies different from before, suitable for the apocalypse, and social consensus was needed accordingly.

That was easy for politicians who made a living from politics, and social consensus could be achieved by using the reputation of Bahamut, who was overwhelmingly supported.

The problem was:

“If you elect me, I will declare independence from the dictator Bahamut!”

“By overthrowing the Four-Dragon Bahamut, our Gyeongju will gain the reputation of Dragon Slayer!”

“Drag that guy out!”

Due to disappointment in the existing political system, numerous political newcomers interested in politics emerged.

This in itself wasn’t a bad direction and could be seen as favorable in terms of aiming for a generational change in politics, but regarding what they advocated… let’s not discuss it.

“How can anyone blatantly ignore the founding principles of the Balhut Cult!?”

“If they were decent political aspirants, they would have already joined our party.”

“Oh no!”

Frankly, there was no way for a decent political force to emerge normally in the apocalypse, and genius lunatics who defamed even gods to somehow attract people’s attention appeared.

Yes, literally genius lunatics who maliciously and forcefully ignored the founding principles of the Balhut Cult, defaming even the Dragon God.

Naturally, claims like independence from Bahamut or killing the Dragon God were immediately cut off by the mainstream political forces within the cult, and their assertions never made it outside.

In fact, a nation’s founding principles were one of the important elements of its identity, and statements that lightly abandoned those principles were equivalent to saying that the country should rightfully cease to exist, so it was only natural for those living in that country.

“You guys claimed all the good slogans first! So what we can claim is limited!”

“Yes, it’s kicking latecomers! It’s the ladder-pulling of old fogies! This is political oppression and suppression of extra-parliamentary parties!”

Of course, even the genius lunatics who defamed the Dragon God had excuses, which were that the existing political system had already brought new pledges and politics tailored to the apocalypse before the lunatics appeared.

As if their time making a living from politics wasn’t a lie, they had preemptively claimed and advocated for an absolute monarchy centered on Bahamut or a constitutional monarchy centered on the Dragon Priestess.

So the lunatics criticized this as monopolization or ladder-pulling, saying that since you’re claiming that, we have nothing left to claim.

“Then join our party! We want generational change too!”

“No! This is something only I can do! I can do it if it’s me!”

The answer from the existing political system was simply to join their party and bring about generational change.

And then…

“Ah.”

“I don’t even want to think about it.”

There remained an organization that all Balhut Cult members disliked.

For Balhut Cult members, it was essentially the final boss, the strongest and worst organization.

“I didn’t evade taxes. I didn’t evade taxes. I didn’t evade taxeeees!”

It was the National Tax Service.

Everyone’s idol… no, everyone’s nightmare.