Chapter 120

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 120

Chapter Title: The Mayor and Fame

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What is work? What is labor?

Let's toss aside dictionary definitions. We need to talk about the essence. The essence.

The essence of work. It is the process of creating a situation where you don't have to work.

Ultimately, enduring current pain to do something, all so you can do nothing in the end.

Seria was absent today. No idea why. Don't need to know either.

The important thing is that she's gone. That's the only fact that matters.

The absence of that nagging secretary means peace for the mayor.

On the tablet screen in front of me, a girl was locked in fierce combat.

"A single ray of light piercing the darkness! Your North Star, Polaris, has arrived!"

Ugh. That dialogue.

At first, I wondered how anyone could say such cringey lines with a straight face, but now? I'd feel empty without them.

That's a hero's identity. The gold standard of self-promotion.

"Cawww! Is it you?! The puny insect invading my turf?!"

Opposite Polaris, a grotesque villain perched atop a utility pole screeched in rage.

B-Rank Villain, Battle Crow. Steel wings attached to his back and a black costume mimicking a crow.

He used to be an ordinary office worker. One night after overtime, he exercised at home and got noise complaints from downstairs.

He apologized at first, but the daily neighbor complaints pushed him over the edge.

"Fine, I'll show you what real noise is!" He made a flight suit and became the crow villain.

A victim of noise turning perpetrator, perpetrator turning villain. The tragedy of modern society.

I leave a dignified cheer in the chat.

My ID 'IlluwaIt' is now a legend on Polaris's stream. The undisputed chairman and certified pervert uncle.

"Noise harms the citizens! Surrender now!"

"Shut up! My cries are art! The overture echoing across Neo Incheon! Caw!"

This villain's got a brutal concept.

I clicked my tongue and focused on the screen.

Shweeeek—!!

Battle Crow flapped his steel wings and dove sharply.

The wingtips were honed sharp as blades.

His sonic boom descent looked plenty threatening.

But Polaris didn't budge.

She calmly lowered her stance, regulated her breathing, and condensed starlight into her body.

Her form began to glow faintly gold.

Back then, she'd panic and throw up a hasty light shield.

But now? No wasted motion.

Power distribution, timing, gaze control.

Everything refined.

Jin Yeonhwa. That old-school association president's Spartan training must've paid off.

Just as Battle Crow's sharp wings plunged toward Polaris.

That very instant.

"Starlight Burst!"

Compressed starlight exploded from Polaris's right hand.

A blinding flash erupted, slamming precisely into one of Battle Crow's steel wings.

Kwajik!

With a deafening rupture, the wing crumpled like paper.

"Cawww! My, my wiiiing!"

Balance lost, Battle Crow screamed as he plummeted. Polaris seized the chance, leaping lightly to kick his gut mid-fall.

Clean finish.

Overwhelming win against a B-Rank villain. Without a scratch.

"Haa… haa… Yay~! Victory! Situation clear! Citizens, you're safe now!"

Panting hard, Polaris flashed a V-sign at the camera. Sweat-soaked blonde hair and flushed cheeks.

I found myself grinning like a proud dad.

Good girl. Such a good girl, my Sia.

I raised her. Yeah, practically did.

Sure, Jin Yeonhwa trained her directly, but who laid the foundation for that growth? Me, IlluwaIt!

My capital. My foresight. My pervy power.

All that propelled her from D-Rank dirt to B-Rank skies.

Alright, time to assert my presence today too?

Perfect pervert message. Cheers and creepiness blended in artistic harmony.

"Uncle! Thanks as always! But can you please cheer purely for once?!"

Her face beet red, flustered beyond words.

My message sparks the chat back to life.

I smiled in satisfaction, gazing at the chat.

'Pervy but warm perv.'

Some viewer's comment last time. How perfectly does that capture me?

The supportive tall uncle aiding Polaris's growth, and the perv uncle lusting after her innocence.

This exquisite duality is IlluwaIt's essence.

I closed the stream and leaned deep into my chair.

"That skill in B-Rank... She'll hit A-Rank soon no problem."

But then.

Something struck me as off.

She's crushing B-Rank villains that easily, so why are viewers stuck around 100?

Normally, word spreads and viewers explode at that level, right?

"Why isn't popularity rising?"

No clue.

Algorithm issue? Irregular schedule? Tacky costume?

Or... am I the problem?

Am I scaring off new viewers with my pervy sponsorships?

Nah, no way. In today's world, this concept is tame.

It even adds character positively. Yup yup.

Yet conflicting feelings bubbled up inside.

I want Polaris more famous.

But also twisted possessiveness wanting her as my little secret star, my private hero.

Is this that indie band fan psychology?

That mix of betrayal and pride when our underground Hongdae club song hits #1?

"Mysterious."

What even is popularity? Not tied to skill, not all about looks.

So what's the secret...

Swish—

Then. Something soft brushed my leg.

Nero.

He'd snuck up, tail swishing as he looked up at me.

A lightbulb flashed in my head.

Yes. This is it.

"Nero, come here a sec."

I lured him to his dedicated cushion in the corner and opened the Nertube app on my smartphone.

[Just a Cat]

Lazy title.

Camera on, and Nero's face filled the screen.

Experiment time.

Hit start.

And then.

Numbers skyrocketed. Blinked, and the first digit changed.

The world showered Nero with cash.

Chat? Already scrolling too fast to read.

Just one calico cat dozing off.

Is this... reality?

On one side, a 20-year-old hero girl risks life fighting villains to protect the city's peace.

Her fame? Barely 100 viewers and 'warm perv's heh-heh donations.

On the other, a calico cat that just exists.

Eats, sleeps, occasionally pesters his owner. Yet tens of thousands worldwide go wild, pouring money endlessly.

This injustice. This overwhelming absurdity. Capitalism's true face.

I reached out and hit end stream.

Screen went black, frantic notifications silenced.

Silence returned to the mayor's office.

...Or not.

Meow!

Sharp protest.

Nero glared at me.

'Why'd you stop?' his eyes said.

"You attention-whore cat. Go nap more."

I flicked his nose lightly.

Nyaaah—

Nero mewled in discontent, then curled up on the cushion again.

Grrr...

Soon, peaceful snoring filled the quiet office.

Today's conclusion.

Justice can't beat cuteness.

No, cuteness is justice.

The mayor's office without Seria is synonymous with paradise.

But humans are fickle creatures.

Sit and you want to lie down, lie and you want to sleep, sleep and you dread tomorrow's commute.

Sitting on the office sofa made me miss my bed; relaxing made me itch to clock out.

Plus, no Seria doesn't make this my home.

Still a workplace, and I'm still Neo Incheon's mayor with that heavy label.

I decided to escape the office.

Destination: Insimdang.

My pride and shame. My masterpiece and black history. My success and failure.

A quick inspection of the contradictory bakery, then claim business trip over and head home.

Stepping from the official car, I let out a hollow laugh.

"Is that a bakery or the Tower of Babel?"

Every visit, Insimdang's building seems one floor taller. Literally.

Proof business is booming.

Entrance swarmed as usual.

I pushed through to the back, familiar route.

Staff passage. For the chosen only.

Opening the iron door, a new sign caught my eye.

[3rd Bakery Lab]

[Quality Control Team - Team Leader Kurokumo Tsubaki]

[Danger! No Unauthorized Entry!]

Poison?

Kurokumo Tsubaki. Poison Dragon Gang's poison master.

Curiosity won; I peeked through the gap.

Wall-lined liquid chromatography. Centrifuge analyzing mystery reagents.

One wall plastered with graphs of gluten content by flour type, sugar changes by fermentation time.

Center: Bread recipe chart looking like toxic substance analysis.

Is this a bakery or bioweapons lab?

Creeeak—

I opened the door.

"Tsubaki dear. Working hard?"

"Eeeeek! D-D-Daimyo!"

Tsubaki, in white coat holding a beaker, screamed at the sight of me.

Hey, come on. What'd I do?

"Whoa, you okay? Like at Ninja Town last time, why do you always flee from me?"

As I stepped closer asking.

Poof!

Smoke billowed before my eyes.

Coughing, I waved it away. In Tsubaki's spot: a man-sized log stood alone.

"...Body replacement jutsu?"

Unbelievable. How scary am I that she pulls advanced ninja tech to escape?

I just asked how she was.

"Shy type, huh."

Next time, ultimate lure.

Use my attention cat as bait. Tempt her with Nero pets.

Bittersweet smile, I headed to the real goal: kitchen.

Door open, hot steam and sweet aroma engulfed me.

Warzone of dozens of busy patissiers.

And the commander-in-chief: Sugargirl.

"Sugargirl~ I'm here~"

"Yeah. Mayor's here."

Hold up.

Something's off.

Normally, she'd spot me and charge with sparkling eyes.

Today? Bone-dry reply.

Just a head nod my way, still kneading dough.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The pounding sounded extra aggressive.

Huh.

Bad vibe.

Have I been too absent? Neglected my partner?

Business needs steady care and talk. I've been lax.

Sniff sniff.

I approached, playfully sniffing her.

"Oishmu! What's Sugargirl's flavor today?"

My killer aegyo. Ritual taste-test to cheer her up.

"......"

No reaction.

Gathering courage, I lightly tasted her nape. Subtle flavor molecules on my tongue.

'...Bitter.'

Dark chocolate. 99% cacao, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thick and acrid.

Gasp. Emergency. Worse than red alert. Her mood's in the gutter.

"Um, Sugargirl. You mad?"

She paused at my question.

I machine-gunned confessions, rambling excuses.

"Is it 'cause I skipped last time saying busy? I really was! Swordmaster geezers and ninjas swore loyalty... For real!"

"......"

"Or that time at Sinpo Market with pork soup? Sorry! But Koreans run on rice power! Gotta eat rice for energy! Bread's great, but rice sometimes...!"

"......?"

"No? Then the interview! 'Neo Incheon's icon'—I said Catopia first, hurt feelings? But Insimdang right after! Second ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠place! First and second are paper-thin!"

"......!"

"No way, the gift set you gave? Nero ate some, but I did too! Swear! One or two! Too many, not 'cause bad taste!"

I spilled every sin, gauging her eyes.

So this is 'guilty feet'?

"Hah?"

Sugargirl slowly turned. Eyes narrowed.

Not her usual lively gaze. Cold, sharp—pure villain eyes.

"What'd you say? Fed my gift set to that furball?"

"No, not all... "

"Insimdang second place?"

"Second's good! Silver medal!"

"Pork soup?"

"That... sorry."

Doomed. Poured oil on the fire.

"Haa..."

Sugargirl sighed deeply.

"Anyway, not that."

She pulled her phone from apron pocket, shoved it in my face.

"Look at this."

Screen: Photo of some shop.

Bright red sign. Tacky old script font. Name atop it.

Red background, white old script sign.

Below: 'By Seoul citizens! For Seoul citizens! Bread for Seoul citizens!' slogan.

Insimdang rip-off.