Chapter 111
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 111
Chapter Title: The Mayor's Betrayal
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"...78.7%."
2030 youth generation approval rating.
Not just a number—it's a 78.7-ton shackle around my ankle.
Other age groups barely hover at 40%, teetering precariously up to 50% at best.
Why? Why on earth? What reason could these young people have for supporting me so blindly?
This isn't normal. It's not the picture of a healthy democratic society.
It's practically a new cult.
A cult leader descended upon 21st-century Neo Incheon—that's Lee Garam, apparently.
"I can't understand it."
Why?
What's the reason?
I haven't done a damn thing for the youth.
On the contrary, I'm the worst kind of bastard plotting to siphon off their money (taxes) and run.
I pondered deeply.
My past actions. Was there anything that could make the youth go wild?
First, I'm young. 29 years old. The youngest mayor in history.
They identify with me. The "young mayor" frame leads straight to the lazy equation of "one of us." A fresh youth in a political world full of old fogeys—something like that.
This wasn't my intention. I just happened to possess this age. Is youth an official position?
Second, that damn SNS.
All those outrageous posts I made in desperation to get impeached. They were just a parade of trash talk, but they consumed it as "MZ-style honesty" and "refreshing statements." They even built an image of "hip politician" and "communicating mayor," completely opposite to my intent.
Third, the rebellious youth.
All my antics standing up to the Hero Association President, flipping off corporate chairmen, and causing chaos on live broadcasts. But that was all desperate flailing to get impeached.
All these misunderstandings piled up, creating the horrific illusion that "Lee Garam is the only politician who represents our generation's voice."
But that's exactly where the path lies.
Yes, this is it.
Illusions exist to be shattered.
Tens of thousands of neurons in my brain exploded like fireworks, beginning to construct a new strategy.
"Expectation. And betrayal."
The two keywords that stir the most intense emotional waves in humans.
Think about it. A bad guy from the start? People just shrug it off. That's just how he is.
They might curse, but they don't get hurt. They might get angry, but they don't grieve.
But betrayal from someone you trusted?
That's different. It delivers pain and rage on another level. It's a scar engraved on the soul.
Anger and disappointment are proportional to expectations.
If a guy who did 99 bad things does one good deed, people get moved and say he's turned over a new leaf. But if a guy who did 99 good deeds does one bad thing, all his past good deeds get branded as hypocrisy.
"Heh heh heh..."
This is it.
A high approval rating is actually the most fatal weakness. The higher you fall, the greater the impact.
I'm the "guy who did 99 good things" to the youth generation.
Now it's time for that "one decisive mistake."
The value they hold most dear. Their reverse scale.
Fairness.
Opportunity must be equal, the process fair, and the outcome just.
Show them Lee Garam, the young mayor they believed represented their generation, blatantly favoring the older generation and elders.
If that hero leads the charge in preferential treatment for the elderly and tramples the youth's values, becoming the ultimate old fogey?
"I'll become the most unfair mayor in the world."
This goes beyond simple anger. It's betrayal. Resentment. The utter despair of being abandoned.
Not only will approval ratings plummet, but the speed of turning into antis will be lightning-fast.
Perfect. A perfect plan.
Now I just need to empirically verify this perfect theory.
That's science. Hypothesis, experiment, proof.
Conveniently, there was a precious test subject napping at my feet, swishing its tail.
"Nero-kun."
Meow...?
At my call, the tri-colored furball narrowed its eyes lazily.
I picked it up and gently placed it on the desk.
"Nero-kun, you're young, capable, and full of promise as a cat."
I pulled out the premium freeze-dried dried mackerel from the drawer.
"Here, three super tasty dried mackerels."
Nyaang!
Its eyes sparkled with anticipation.
Its nose twitched, and its tail started thumping the floor: tap, tap.
"But Nero-kun, you're still too young. Unlimited potential. So for now, just one for you."
Plop.
I placed one dried mackerel in front of Nero.
Munch munch. Chomp chomp.
Nero looked puzzled for a moment, then snatched up the mackerel in front of it.
"And the other two... I'll give to the retired elderly cats basking in the sun at Catopia, who devoted themselves to Neo Incheon's peace(?) in the past."
There are no such cats, actually. For some reason, all the cats at Catopia are young.
But the important thing is the setup.
"This is respect for experience and reverence for elders. That's what social consensus is."
I put the two dried mackerels back in the drawer.
Of course, Nero's consent wasn't needed.
Meooow!?
A desperate cry toward the trusted butler. A wail against reverse discrimination!
Nero glared at me in disbelief.
"It worked! My theory is perfect!"
Even a cat rages this much at unfair treatment! How much more the youth of this era!
The social experiment is a success. The theory is proven.
Project name... yes, the synonym for betrayal.
Brutus Project.
"Subtitle... Et tu, Igaram? Even you, Lee Garam?"
Kuhuhu!
Just imagining it made me laugh uncontrollably.
Enraged youth gathering in the city hall plaza, chanting "Lee Garam, step down!"
MIGA fan club members shedding tears, saying "We believed in you..." and "How could you do this to us?"
And the plummeting approval graph.
"Kyakyakat!"
Evil laughter filled the mayor's office. I even felt like a black aura was rising behind me.
Wait, proud youth of the city.
I'll gift you the true bitterness of the world, the pain of betrayal!
Just as my self-satisfaction with the plan reached its peak.
Ssshhk—
The door suddenly opened.
"Mayor, that laugh just now was the dumbest and most pathetic in all of human history."
As always, my sharp-tongued secretary Seria Park threw a verbal dagger.
"W-what are you talking about! That was the smile of an evil mastermind!"
"Evil mastermind. Every evil mastermind on Earth would crawl out of their graves, grab you by the collar, and sue for defamation without a word."
"Urk."
I should be used to it by now, but Seria's barbs are always fresh and always hurt.
Her gaze shifted to Nero on the desk.
"And what did you do to this poor creature."
"Ah, nothing! I just taught it about social consensus and respect for elders! It was a kind of social experiment!"
"What happens in the mayor's head isn't called a social experiment; we've socially agreed to call it mental delusion. Hand over the remaining two dried mackerels in the drawer to Nero right now."
How did she know? Does she see right through my drawers?
I sighed in resignation and opened the drawer to take out the remaining dried mackerels.
Nyamyamnyam.
Nero wagged its tail once as if to say "I knew it," then proudly devoured them.
The chomping sounds echoed especially loudly.
"If you're bored, why not go down to the complaints office? They say it's unusually lively today. Showing your dumb face might quiet them down a bit."
"Who has time for that! I'm super busy right now! Planning a crucial project for Neo Incheon's future!"
"Yes, yes. Go do the world's most useless worrying to your heart's content."
Bang.
As if my response wasn't worth hearing, Seria closed the door and left.
The mayor's office was left with the wounded Lee Garam and Nero grooming itself contentedly after finishing the mackerels.
Grrr.
Pain of betrayal? It seems to have forgotten already.
"Haa."
This is unfair. Really unfair.
I really am busy!
I'm racking my brains to most effectively incite generational conflict and shatter my approval ratings!
In the end, I trudged out of my seat toward the complaints office.
And 10 seconds after arriving at the complaints office, I fully understood what Seria meant by "lively."
"This is all the support we get? Are you kidding! Do you know who we are!"
"How did we build this country! Is this how you treat us?"
"Why was the quarterly support cut again! Get the mayor out here!"
Thunderous roars shook the entire complaints office.
The source was elderly men with graying hair and faces etched with the winds of time, yet unable to hide their bulging muscles under their suit jackets.
Roughly five or six of them. And at each of their waists hung sharp swords.
It was the Swordmaster Veterans' Association elders.
Living legends, and at the same time, the worst complainers the city hall complaints office feared.
"Elders, that's the national merit hero pension set by the government. Our city even added extra support funds."
A young official explained with a tearful face, but it seemed not to reach their ears at all.
"Hey! You young ones have no manners! When we were smashing kobolds in underground dungeons in German mines to earn foreign currency, you weren't even born!"
"Right! Sweeping Vietcong villains in Vietnam jungles! Laying highways while battling giant sandworms in Middle East deserts—do you even know?"
"You think the Saemaul Movement just happened? We shaved mountains with sword energy, built bridges with telekinesis! We did it all! We laid the foundation of this country! Mayor! Where's the mayor!"
A repetitive repertoire that made even me dizzy just listening. But the problem is, even with exaggerations, it's all true.
They were literally superhumans who had pierced through modern Korean history with their bodies.
Legendary first-generation heroes who fought through the turbulent modern history of Korea.
That's why they're even more annoying.
When real heroes turn into old fogeys, there's no way to deal with them.
Yes, now's the time. The moment to herald the prelude to the Brutus Project.
I stepped forward with a warm, trustworthy smile equipped.
"Elders, what's all this commotion about?"
As if by magic, the noise in the complaints office stopped.
The elders who had been bellowing like they would flip the world moments ago spotted me and straightened up as if nothing happened.
"Oh, uh... it's the mayor."
The one with the loudest voice cleared his throat and bowed politely.
Shrinking infinitely before authority—a truly Korean scene.
"Well, Mayor, we were just... feeling a bit aggrieved."
I smiled kindly and patted their shoulders.
"Don't do this here. Come to my office. Let's have some warm tea and talk."
We moved to the mayor's office.
The elders looked around awkwardly, even uncomfortable sitting on the premium leather sofa.
When Seria brought fragrant jujube tea, they received the cups with both hands as if honored.
"Now, speak freely. What has you so aggrieved?"
At my words, the one who seemed the representative cautiously opened his mouth.
"As you know, Mayor, there are no policies for old heroes like us."
The others nodded and chimed in one by one.
"Hero pensions have been frozen for years, not keeping up with inflation... real value keeps dropping. Disability hero allowances are pocket change—enough for a few packs of ramen a month."
"Equipment support only goes to the young ones; we're patching up old gear to get by. Superpower medical treatments are too expensive to even consider. Life is hard."
"We don't want much. Everyone's just scared of us... avoids us... We just want old heroes like us to live decently."
Their grievances poured out endlessly.
Tales of sorrow, hardship, loneliness. Stories of people fearing them.
'Of course young people are scared when you swarm in with swords every day and cause scenes in the complaints office.'
Of course, I wore the most heartbroken, sympathetic expression while listening intently.
Finally, as their complaints subsided.
I declared in a resolute voice.
"Don't worry, elders."
I stood up with a determined expression. Their gazes focused on my sudden movement.
"How could I not know how much blood and sweat you shed for this country?"
I met each of their eyes one by one.
"I'll take care of it all. This is Lee Garam."