Chapter 19
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: The Mayor's Day Off
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Run.
The most primal and effective survival strategy that has endured alongside human history.
If you can't fight, flee. If you can't flee, hide. If you can't hide, play dead.
Right now, I have only one option left: run.
Yeah. Human legs evolved for running away, after all.
Retreating in the face of a survival threat isn't cowardice—it's wisdom.
Does a gazelle worry about saving face in front of a lion? No. It just runs for its life.
She's going to show up soon. The top predator who speaks human language, her pale pink hair fluttering.
It's not too late yet. This is my last chance to end this anxious pacing.
"I've still got five minutes. If I sprint full speed right now, I can make it to that subway station in thirty seconds. Once I'm lost in the crowd, even Seria won't find me easily."
A simulation runs through my head.
Step 1: Take off my smartwatch and toss it on the ground. Can't rule out the possibility it's got a tracker embedded.
Step 2: Flip my shirt inside out. Changing appearance is Escape 101.
Step 3: Yell "Over there! It's Jin Yeonhwa!" to draw everyone's eyes, then belly-crawl into the crowd amid the chaos.
Perfect. Operation: Survival Gazelle. This could boost my survival odds by even 0.1%...
"Mayor. You're out earlier than I expected."
The voice from behind me.
Cold and crystal clear, piercing straight into my ears no matter the noise around.
My desperate escape simulation force-quits before I even hit execute.
Slowly, so slowly, like a creaking old machine, I turn around.
And there she is.
All the colors in the world lose meaning in an instant, sucked into one person.
She's not wrapped in her usual pitch-black suit.
A light gray dress that flows gently. A white cardigan draped over her shoulders. The pale pink hair that used to cover one ear falls naturally below her shoulders, swaying softly in the breeze.
Her makeup-free face only accentuates her translucent skin. Her expression is still blank, but instead of her usual sharp chill, she exudes a calm, gentle aura.
"Wow..."
The sound escapes me unbidden.
A pure exclamation, devoid of meaning or intent.
The only syllable my language center manages to spit out after shutting down everything else.
In that moment, I'm not the Mayor of Neo Incheon, not the guy isekai'd into a comic world, not the desperate fugitive dreaming of escape. Just a male primate beholding beauty.
"Why are you standing there with your mouth hanging open? A fly might get in, Mayor."
A chilling remark.
It feels like she's pouring ice water over my head. No, liquid nitrogen.
My mind snaps back. Forced return from illusion to reality.
Yep, looks can be deceiving—it's still Seria. The final boss blocking my laid-back life. A change in outfit doesn't alter her core.
"Ah, haha! Seria! Right on time! I just got here too!"
"I didn't expect the Mayor to be out here pacing ten minutes early. Were you that excited for our date?"
"Date? Building a healthy mayor-secretary relationship is key to team harmony and work efficiency! This is just an extension of duties for Neo Incheon's sake!"
"Sure, sure. If you say so."
A soulless reply.
I have to shift this awkward vibe somehow.
"So, what should we watch? I hear there's a fun romance flick out now. Or how about a comedy for some stress relief?"
My tearful effort to salvage the situation.
But Seria shoots it down without a second's hesitation.
"I already booked tickets."
She holds up her smartphone, showing the reservation.
[National Power-Class Hunter vs. Modern Strongest Sorcerer]
"...!"
It's my taste. Perfectly my taste.
Two so-called strongest clashing? My heart's already pounding.
"I figured you'd like this genre, Mayor."
Her calm voice. How much does this woman know? Is she spying on my late-night video binges or something?
*
In awkward silence, we head side by side to the theater.
Passing the dark hallway, our assigned seats come into view.
Huh?
Something's off.
A sofa-style seat separated from the others.
Couple's seat.
Couple's seat? Me and Seria? In a couple's seat?
Why?
How?
What for?
Thousands of hypotheses collide in my head.
Hypothesis 1: Simple mistake. No other seats available when booking.
Hypothesis 2: Efficiency play. One couple seat cheaper or easier than two regulars.
Hypothesis 3: Advanced psychological warfare. Trap me in tight space, induce contact, gauge my reaction to uncover true intentions.
Hypothesis 4: This is just a date.
No, no. Not 4. Impossible. Seria? With me? Ridiculous.
I settle on Hypothesis 3.
Closing physical distance to maximize psychological pressure—an elite interrogation tactic.
In this breath-sharing proximity, can I keep my cool and maintain the "incompetent idiot mayor" act?
The movie starts.
On screen, two legendary characters clash, shaking space-time.
Epic scale. Flashy action. Exactly the scenes that get my blood pumping.
But none of it registers.
All my nerves fix on the seat to my right, not the screen.
Crunch.
A small sound from the right.
Crunch crunch.
Seria eating popcorn.
That tiny hand grabbing kernels. That same hand could snap my neck.
Those lips munching caramel popcorn now—tomorrow, spewing pointed critiques of my screw-ups.
Ah, can't focus!
The biggest issue? No armrests.
More precisely, nowhere to put my arms without one.
Regular seats have safe plastic barriers on both sides, but couple seats abandon that civilized luxury for primal openness.
Where does my right arm go?
Demurely on my lap looks too stiff. Dangling naturally risks brushing her arm.
Human history is the history of personal space.
This is two territories abutted without borders—maximum danger.
I clasp my hands politely on my lap like a job interview candidate.
But this pose will cramp my circulation in under five minutes.
Draping an arm over the back hugs her outright.
What to do? How to navigate this crisis?
One arm on lap, the other awkwardly at my side, I pretend to watch the screen.
Then—
Swish.
No sound, no warning.
Seria leans slightly toward me.
And nudges the popcorn tub my way.
It settles exactly halfway between our laps.
Is this... salvation?
Her shoulder brushes my arm ever so lightly.
Intentional? Or just sharing popcorn goodwill?
I reach cautiously for a kernel, calculating desperately to avoid finger contact.
In that precarious peace, the movie races to its climax. Before I know it, I've forgotten Seria and immersed fully in the screen.
The film ends on a pulse-pounding note everyone loves. No one speaks first until the credits roll.
Lights up in the theater, heading out.
I can't contain my excitement and shout.
"Man... that was awesome! Especially the final battle with the boss Sands...!"
"Glad you enjoyed it, Mayor."
No awkward silence—instead, natural chat about the movie flows.
Shoulders brushing as we walk the street. No more suffocating five-centimeter gap. Just comfortable distance.
It hits me.
Wait... am I actually having fun right now?
No trap, no test, no war. Just movie time.
Come to think of it, it's been forever since I purely focused on a film like this.
Office drone days were endless overtime—no time for theaters. After isekai, every day was a survival battlefield.
But today was different.
Sure, tension from Seria beside me, but for three hours, I was just an audience member lost in the screen world.
This must be what leisure feels like.
Ah, yes. Mission complete.
✓ Healthy mayor-secretary relationship
✓ Improved organization communication
✓ Stress relief via cultural activity
All goals achieved. Perfect results.
And most crucially, navigated this minefield without major slip-ups.
Now head home separately, back to normal boss-subordinate by Monday.
Cleanest wrap-up possible.
"Good work, Seria. Had fun today. See you Monday."
I wave coolly and turn.
A pretty satisfying day off—
"Mayor."
Seria stops me.
"What would you like for dinner?"
"Huh?"
Dinner. Supper. Evening meal. Banquet. The final feast capping the day.
Ritual consoling daily fatigue, charging energy for tomorrow.
Time to sit with family, lover, or self for true rest.
No, this can't be right. The flow's wrong. Script's off.
Wait, what? Why? How?
We watched the movie. Ate popcorn. Drank the green soda.