The guard in charge of the next room I would be in gave me a warning to not bring anything other than my recorder and a lighter. He mentioned that I would later find out what the lighter was for. Kim Mina, marshal of the former Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, stares me right in the eye as I entered the room. Just by briefly observing him, I noticed that he has this sharp look on his eyes, like someone with malicious intentions. He gave off an aura gleaming with dark energy that I’ve never seen before in my life. I reached my hand out for a handshake but was quickly dismissed and was called an “American Pig.” Compared to the past two North Koreans I interviewed, he does not hold back at all. He says what he wants to with no regard to the receiving party of the message. As I take my sit, I noticed that he actually is handcuffed to the table. He also has a broken nose, more of like a fresh wound. Another thing I noticed is that he is 5 ft 8 in height, which is actually uncommon for a North Korean considering their average height is only 5 ft 5, which might actually explain as to why he looks down on other people quite so often. He fled together with the other defectors and crossed the demilitarized zone. When the South Korean soldiers saw them and asked them to surrender, he was the only one who refused to lower his weapons. A soldier knocked him to the ground and that might be the reason as to why he has a broken nose. You, American guy, got any lighter with you? The bastard I told to bring a lighter didn’t return. He asks as he pulls out a cigarette out from his pocket. I’ll check… I checked my pockets and found the lighter the guard gave awhile ago. I then lit his cigar before we started. So, what do you want to hear about me? I am sure you have already been made aware of who I am? I never liked the Americans but I loved their movies. I have heard that you were the marshal. You were more like of the second-in-comma… He briefly stops me. Me, second-in-command? No, no, no… He laughs. The Supreme Leader was in bad shape even before the outbreak. He was so paranoid of people stealing away his power that he basically had most people in his tree line that were threat to him executed. Of course, he didn’t do the killing himself. The bastard’s got a weak stomach. His people treated him like a god, bringer of gifts and surprises, joy and sadness, bliss and suffering… hell, people would kill themselves if the fat fuck tells them to do so. I knew the truth from the very beginning so he cannot deceive me. Him and the father of his father is nothing else but a puppet, an idol to face the people. Of course he never knew that. We, the council, tells him what to do and what not to do every single time, at least back then. I always hated power struggle, so in order to fix this problem of mine, I did what any Brutus would do to his Julius Caesar… He blows smoke from his cigar. I had all of them killed. Fed them to hungry dogs to be exact. It felt so satisfying, really. As it stands now, I am the council. He laughs loudly and crazily like a person from a mental institution would do. Loud enough that the guard checked in and see If I was still okay. I am sure you would want to hear how we survived all this years? The council of the previous generation started the construction of the underground cities. They were so obsessed with self preservation that they built the underground cities incase you Americans decided to nuke our country. Throughout the years, the underground urban settlement increased in size and was the same size like that of New York’s. Just like you, we also sent spies out of our country in order to gather intelligence. So when the reports of the first outbreak came to us, the council decided it would be for the best to go hiding immediately. He chuckles. I really need to stop referring to myself in third person. I ordered my men to forcefully evacuate everyone immediately. The lower class lived in the outer cities, the cities closest to the surface. They are the main driving force of the country. They provide the food we eat and the materials we need. The higher class lived in the cities second closest to the surface. What they do and what they are is self explanatory. Now, the council, army, and the fat guy lives in the innermost cities. The innermost cities are found way deep underground that even if hundred nukes were to be detonated, we still wouldn’t be touched. Everything was going too well for us until one day, an infected was able to enter the cities. How could the fucks be so fucking stupid to not check the people entering the city thoroughly? It was too late then when the army reached the outer cities. Infection was everywhere and so many were fleeing towards the inner cities. So, I had the tunnels connecting the middle cities to the outermost cities blocked and guarded at all times. Because of this, we are now stuck underground, unable to escape. We also did an inspection and checked everybody for suspected bite marks and scratches. There were some who pleaded that the bite marks were from their farm animals, but I took no chance. I had them shot on site. I mean, better safe than sorry. There came a time that our food supplies came short so we had to improvise. I had the people resort to cannibalism while I ate what remains of the food supply. Pretty clever, don’t you say? Of course I never abandoned fatty. I need a puppet to run what remains of the country. This went on for a couple of years until one day, one of my subordinates turned against me and a coup d’état happened. The assassination attempt on me failed and so I went to hiding. There were random patrols out of nowhere searching for me. After a few days of hiding, I saw a group of people who were attempting to escape from the underground by going through an unguarded tunnel. I was the last guy going through the tunnel so as a surprise to those who betrayed me, I left it open wide for the infected to enter through. One of the patrolling guard saw us because of the unblocked tunnel and started shooting at us. The sleeping undead were awakened and were attracted to the sound the gun produced. We observed from an abandoned factory the tunnel slowly filling with the undead. We continued traversing through the abandoned cities and every now and then, we would hear gunshots. He smirks. The fucks deserved it anyways. The journey took about three days because we had to travel slowly as possible as to not get the undead’s attention. We made it to the surface and everything was clear. I felt the sun’s rays on my skin. It’s been a long time since I have seen the sun. We rested in Pyongyang for a day until we finally decided to cross the demilitarized zone only to be captured by you fucks. The curse words found in the story is necessary to give life to the character.