Chapter 4

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 4

Chapter Title: The Mayor and the Heroes

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For several days, I meticulously reviewed the plan that had gone by.

The Star Patrol Project, designed to incur the wrath of the Special Task Force.

Failure.

It failed.

A complete failure.

No, a failure of a failure.

Double negatives make a strong positive, or so they say.

Then my failure to fail must ultimately mean a resounding success.

And that resounding success means, in other words, my utter failure.

A Möbius strip of tails chasing tails. An endless cycle of failure.

Sinking deep into the plush chair in the mayor's office, I stared blankly at the pristine white ceiling tiles.

Even until yesterday, the embarrassing moniker "Latent Dragon Lee Garam" echoed in my ears like an auditory hallucination, making a racket inside and outside City Hall.

The picture I had painted was a beautiful tale of righteous retribution: the citizens' cold stares of "That mayor's lost his mind," plummeting approval ratings that would bore through the floor, and a dishonorable impeachment.

But the report card reality threw at me was an out-of-left-field fan sentiment of "Our mayor... is actually a genius?" and skyrocketing approval ratings.

The direction was way off. What good is your head spinning in a positive way?

"This time... this time, I really need to lose the public's favor for sure."

The previous failure stemmed from insufficient analysis. I needed to dig deeper into the essence.

The citizens' reverse scale. The absolute taboo that would make the entire city rise up the moment it was touched.

What people in this world valued most... was heroes.

What exactly is a hero?

Not some simple vigilante group.

It's a religion.

A myth.

Idols, icons, stars.

Living legends.

Humanoid guardian deities who fend off disasters, symbols of that single ray of hope blooming amid despair.

The media reports their exploits daily, children dream of becoming heroes, and adults go wild for them.

And the place where all those heroes gathered was...

The central hub of all faiths. The Vatican, the Mecca, the sacred grove, the holy land.

The Hero Association.

Neo Incheon's most untouchable absolute sanctuary. In the original story, there was even a scene where the incompetent Mayor Lee Garam clumsily tried to check the Association and faced fierce backlash from the citizens.

'If a politician picks a fight with the Hero Association, it's game over 100%.'

The citizens who loved, trusted, and practically worshipped heroes— what if some mayor openly attacked them?

Candlelight vigils and cheering sticks would flood City Hall square in an instant. Impeachment demands would be a given.

Perfect. No better way to play the ultimate incompetent.

I steeled my resolve and picked up the receiver.

No hesitation. The longer I waffled, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠more my slush fund dwindled, and the farther escape from this hellish mayoral post became.

Internal extension shortcut: 1. Seria.

Ring, ring.

Before the second ring even finished, a voice sharp as a blade pierced my eardrum.

[What is it.]

"Seria. We need to hold an emergency press conference."

[What stupid idea have you come up with now.]

Straight to the point, blunt as ever. No affirmation or denial—just the premise that all my ideas were fundamentally 'stupid.' I should be used to it by now, but it still stung like a punch to the gut every time.

"Stupid idea? This is a great decision for Neo Incheon's future!"

I mustered the most dignified voice I could.

"Administration of the people! By the people! For the people! That's my political philosophy, Lee Garam!"

[A decision? I didn't know words like that were even in your vocabulary, sir. I figured your head was just filled with 'embezzlement,' 'slush fund,' 'good eats,' and the like.]

A sigh seemed to leak through the receiver. No, it definitely did.

[Curious what disaster you'll cause this time, hiding behind stolen quotes as your shield. Understood. I'll prepare a press conference to announce your 'great decision' (lol) to the world.]

That deliberate enunciation of 'lol,' dripping with malice. That was the essence of Seria.

[When would you like it?]

"Today at 2 p.m.! Right after lunch!"

[By the way, sir. Maybe get a brain tumor scan first? Sudden personality changes and impulse control issues are key symptoms. Insurance covers it.]

"Seria!"

[Just kidding. There's nothing worth scanning in your head to begin with.]

Click.

The line went dead without waiting for a reply.

She's probably preparing the press conference right now with flawless efficiency, her face a mix of contempt and pity.

Yes, despise me like that. Mock my foolishness to your heart's content.

That's exactly what I'm aiming for.

2 p.m. City Hall briefing room.

The short corridor to the podium. Camera lenses lining both sides zeroed in on me like compound eyes of a massive insect.

A relentless barrage of flashes scorched my vision white.

The stage for my glorious downfall.

I stepped up to the mic.

Whine—

A light howl of feedback.

The suffocating heat and silence from dozens, maybe hundreds, of reporters.

All eyes on my lips, waiting for my first words.

Feels like I'm a rock star. Well, downfall is rock bottom, right?

What a thrilling moment. One word from me, and public opinion toward the government plummets to the abyss.

"Esteemed and beloved citizens of Neo Incheon. This is your mayor, Lee Garam."

The performance begins. In the most hypocritical, trustworthy voice imaginable.

"Yesterday, our proud Special Task Force crushed a highly dangerous terrorist organization. It was simply our duty to protect the citizens' safety, but I'm at a loss with all the excessive praise."

Humility in self-deprecation. Classic political rhetoric.

A few reporters nod. The mood is good. Very good.

Now, time to shatter this harmonious atmosphere.

"Today, I announce a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠major decision to advance that duty one step further."

I take a breath. For dramatic effect.

"To improve transparency and fairness in Neo Incheon, I will conduct a comprehensive tax and administrative audit of all institutions receiving city budget funds."

Murmurs spread like waves.

"And the first target is..."

Straight out of a textbook, nothing special. That's what they're thinking.

But the highlight hasn't started yet.

"The Hero Association."

Silence.

Breathless quiet.

The murmurs from moments ago vanished like a lie.

The next instant, every noise in the world exploded into the briefing room.

"The Hero Association is an independent body! What's the legal basis for a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠city audit?"

"What's the political motive here? Approval ratings up and now you're arrogant?"

"Treating our heroes like potential criminals? Aren't you afraid of public backlash?"

Flashes pouring down. Shouts tearing at my eardrums. Dozens of recorders and mics surging toward me like waves.

Yes, this reaction. Exactly the chaos I wanted.

Perfect! This is it! Scold my arrogance! My dictatorial ways! My recklessness!

Right on cue, a familiar reporter wailed.

"You're touching the sacred ground right now, Mr. Mayor!"

Sacred ground. Great phrase. I love it.

I gripped the mic again, staring straight at her, a serene and righteous smile on my lips.

"Sacred ground? There are no sacred grounds in Neo Incheon. Anywhere even a single won of citizens' taxes goes must be subject to audit. That's fairness. That's justice."

I infused power into every word. With utter conviction. Of course, that conviction was in my own downfall.

"What if the Association pushes back?"

Another reporter's sharp question pierced through.

"Why would they?"

I countered innocently.

"If they're above board, there's no reason to refuse an audit."

Ah, that subtle provocation. Hate myself for how infuriating it is.

Not stopping there, I decided to deliver the decisive blow.

"Oh, and S-Rank heroes are not exempt."

The final nail. The masterstroke to blow away the last shreds of support.

S-Rank heroes. Beings on par with national power. I named them directly and brandished the blade.

Now I've truly crossed an irreversible river.

No, not a river—a sea. The Pacific.

Even Caesar crossing the Rubicon wasn't this bold.

"S-Rank heroes especially need the most thorough audits. Because they are the true heroes. As recipients of even greater love and expectations from the citizens, they must be verified even more rigorously. That's the justice this era demands, I'm convinced."

As if declining further questions, I stepped down from the podium.

Shouts and flashes rained down behind me. Leaving all the chaos in my wake, I sauntered back to the mayor's office.

'It's over. Really over now.'

Satisfaction spread through my body along with the elevator's smooth ascent.

*

Less than an hour after the briefing ended.

A faint noise penetrated the soundproof windows of the mayor's office.

The cicada-like din grew louder, morphing into the angry buzz of a hornet swarm.

I rose and approached the window. City Hall square was swamped with crowds.

The slogans on their placards were visible even without binoculars.

I returned to my desk and turned on my smartphone.

Real-time trends #1.

Below it, a swarm of derivative hashtags.

#ImpeachLeeGaram

#CrazyMayor_OUT

#ProtectOurHeroes

#SaveOurHeroes

The major online community boards were ablaze too.

The protest noise swelled further. Megaphones had been deployed now.

[Lee Garam defies the will of the people—step down!]

The will of the people. How democratic.

No need to check the approval graph. It was probably in freefall like a flailing cat by now.

"Right on plan."

I sank deep into the chair, a wicked grin spreading across my face.