Chapter 49
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: The Mayor's Escape
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Lunchtime.
The bridge that sustains human life, the minimal reward for the yoke of labor.
A brief midday paradise granted to those who endured the hell called morning.
That's right. I'd finished my morning shift.
I'd scaled mountains of documents and crossed rivers of approvals.
Therefore, I deserved lunch, and the energy from it would carry me through the afternoon.
Perfect so far. The problem came next.
After lunch, where to go?
A. Hell. a.k.a. Neo Incheon City Hall.
B. Heaven. a.k.a. Anywhere but City Hall.
The answer was obvious.
So obvious it was embarrassing to even call it a dilemma.
Yet somehow, my feet inched a few millimeters toward City Hall.
Inertia. Habit. The slave mentality injected under the name of social humanity.
"No. How can you fail to read your master's heart?"
I said firmly to my two legs.
Was this how a Silla-era general felt when he beheaded his horse?
No, wait. Didn't that general go to bars all the time and blame the horse?
He should've cut off his own head. Poor horse's neck chopped off, and he gets praised as a decisive master general.
I'm not like that shameless general.
My legs, I'm sorry. This isn't your fault. It's my willpower that's the issue.
"Anyway, City Hall is off-limits. That would be a betrayal of the me who suffered this morning. An insult to the steaming seolleongtang and perfectly fermented kimchi I ate for lunch."
A decision was needed.
I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them.
Then I roughly grabbed the tie—the shackle of civilization, the noose of the salaryman—that choked my neck.
Swish.
I crumpled the loosened tie and stuffed it into my pants pocket.
Liberation. Liberation.
I undid a couple of buttons on my dress shirt too.
A lukewarm summer breeze slipped into my collar.
I boldly turned my steps around.
The opposite direction from City Hall. Toward the blinding sun, where the scent of freedom wafted.
Viiiing—
Then my pocket vibrated.
I didn't need to check. Only one sender. Seria Park.
My capable, beautiful, merciless secretary.
[Missed Call: Pink-Haired Disaster]
The text on the screen wasn't just a notification.
It was a new form of branding.
A declaration that 'You are under my surveillance.' A silent pressure to return.
Ignore.
I put the smartphone back in my pocket.
"Afternoon schedule? That doesn't exist. My afternoon is mine alone. I, Lee Garam, am... a free spirit!"
My hollow shout scattered futilely over the hot asphalt.
"Huh? Isn't that the mayor?"
"He looks even more handsome in person!"
"Mayor! Can you do just one TikTok challenge with us?"
High school girls in uniforms passing by recognized me and whispered.
Please just pretend you don't see me, girls. Adults have their circumstances.
I gave an awkward smile and waved.
Trying to look as kindly and relaxed as a mayor should.
Today's concept: 'A tormented leader going undercover to feel the pulse of the citizens' lives up close.'
Reality: Just slacking off.
Wandering aimlessly, a sweet and spicy aroma tickled my nose.
Tteokbokki. Street food cart.
One of the great inventions of Korean culture. The roadside feast that comforts weary souls.
"Grandma, one serving of tteokbokki and a mix of fritters, please."
"My goodness, young man. You're quite the looker. You seem familiar..."
"Haha, you must have me mistaken for someone else. I'm just an ordinary unemployed guy."
My shoulders puffed up at the grandma's praise as her wrinkled hands deftly packed rice cakes and fish cakes.
Red temptation on a plastic plate.
I skewered a piece of tteok with a toothpick and popped it in my mouth.
Hot. Spicy. Sweet. A symphony of complex flavors assaulted my tongue.
This was the taste of life.
The primal, junky pleasure you could never get from the low-salt, balanced nutritional lunch box Seria prepared.
My pocket vibrated again.
Viiiing— Viiiing—
Twice. Consecutively.
This wasn't just checking anymore. It was a warning.
A chilling message: 'I know exactly where you are and what you're doing.'
I ignored the vibrations and shoved more tteokbokki into my mouth.
"Grandma, how much?"
"Five thousand won."
I pulled a crumpled fifty-thousand-won bill from my wallet and handed it over.
"Keep the change. It's hot out here—you buy something cool with it."
I said coolly.
Inside, I was shedding bloody tears over the forty-five thousand won fortune, but on the outside, I acted like a tycoon.
'Lee Garam, what a man... truly dashing.'
This was the dignity of a mayor. The warm heart for the common folk.
The kind of heartwarming story worthy of tomorrow's front-page newspaper.
'Mayor Lee Garam shows generous kindness to street food grandma...'
Grandma stared holes through the fifty-thousand-won bill, then shoved it back into my hand.
"Young man. Get a grip. Don't throw money around."
"Ah, no, Grandma. I'm really fine..."
"See that Benz over there? That's mine."
Where she pointed stood a shiny black Mercedes S-Class, illegally parked.
I gaped, looking back and forth between Grandma and the Benz.
"......"
"Kids these days don't know the value of money. Tsk tsk."
Grandma forced the change into my hand.
My kindness, my dignity—they shattered in midair, lost.
In the end, I stuffed tteokbokki into my mouth and quietly left.
Viiing— Viiing—
My smartphone went berserk in my pocket.
[Pink-Haired Disaster: Missed Calls (7)]
[Pink-Haired Disaster: Afternoon 2 PM, Urban Development Department briefing.]
[Pink-Haired Disaster: Do not be late.]
"Hmph. Think I'll obediently come back just because of that?"
Seria. You underestimate me.
Lee Garam is no longer your puppet. Well, he is—but a puppet who doesn't do any work.
I'm a free spirit, a man like a drifting cloud.
Stumbling along aimlessly, flashy neon signs caught my eye.
[Game Paradise Plaza]
An arcade. That's right. An arcade.
A place where age, job, status mean nothing. A world where only skill and coins matter.
I wandered in like a moth to a flame and dumped all forty thousand won from the change into the coin machine.
Clatter—
Five-hundred-won coins poured out with a metallic jangle.
This was true flexing.
My money, spent by my will, not on document approvals. My time.
How I'd scrimped and saved every single coin as a kid.
But now I'm an adult. A super adult. Mayor Lee Garam.
I sat at the Tekken machine. The familiar character select screen.
"Ahyo!"
With a kiai, I furiously worked the stick and mashed buttons.
Bungkwon! Wagoo! Wallop Strike!
The opponent character crumpled helplessly on screen.
Stress melting away.
Seria's icy gaze that bound me, the mountain of documents, the inexplicably skyrocketing approval ratings.
All shattered into pixels with the screen.
"Mister, you're pretty good."
"Whoa, mister's got money to burn."
At some point, two rough-looking high school boys had gathered beside me, exclaiming.
"Mister? Call me bro, you punks."
"Nah, you're shameless. Total mister vibes."
Kids these days are scary. Fact bombs with zero hesitation.
"Wanna go a round?"
"Fine. If I win, you call me bro."
"Deal. If we win, you buy us ice cream."
"Cheeky brats."
The result was my utter defeat. Flashy footwork and merciless air combos.
I didn't land a single hit before K.O.
"Urk... Kids these days are really... something. Neo Incheon's future is bright."
As promised, I bought them ice cream.
We sat side by side under the convenience store parasol nearby, sucking on our treats.
Mine was Pig Bar; theirs were cones or red bean shaved ice. A subtle generational gap.
"But mister, you look familiar."
One stared at me intently.
"I don't have a common face."
"Ah! That's it! You look like our mayor! Cat Mayor! Singaram!"
"......"
Busted. And it's Lee, not Shin.
"For real? You are the mayor, right? But why are you here with us...?"
"Shh, quiet! This is... a livelihood inspection. Yeah. A top-secret mission to assess the state of healthy youth leisure culture."
The boys snickered at my lame excuse.
"Nah, you're just skipping work."
"Just like us!"
Damn. No authority here.
This is why you can't trust kids these days!
Time flew by unnoticed.
So I forgot.
The reality that I was a fugitive.
Viiiiing—
A vibration in my pocket. Final warning. Ultimatum.
[Pink-Haired Disaster: Missed Calls (15)]
[If you do not return immediately, I will come 'fetch' you myself.]
The quotes around 'fetch' were chilling.
Not mere emphasis. A murder threat foreshadowing physical enforcement.
She's probably tracking my location in real-time right now.
"Uwaaak!"
A scream burst out involuntarily.
"Mayor? What's wrong?"
"I-I have to go! Super important... yeah, a sudden top-secret national meeting!"
I scrambled up, waving to the boys.
"See you next time! Let's play LoL later! And call me bro then!"
"Sure, mister! Thanks for the ice cream! And kids these days don't play LoL!"
Leaving their cheeky farewell, I ran like mad.
Where to? No idea.
Just away from City Hall.
When my breath reached my chin, a light of salvation appeared.
[Heukryeon Bank]
A bank. Yes, a bank. Cool AC. Plush sofas.
Free ice-cold water. Calendars you can legally plunder.
The perfect hideout from Seria's clutches on this sweltering summer day.
I flapped my sweat-soaked shirt as I dashed inside.
"Haa..."
Heavenly air. The AC cooled my sweat; I felt alive.
I took a number ticket and buried myself in the farthest sofa.
The view of Neo Incheon outside the window was utterly peaceful.
Ziiiing— Ziiiing—
My smartphone rang again. Persistent secretary.
I hit decline. Then powered it off.
Click.
Today was digital detox day. Nothing to disturb me now.
Of course, soon that pink-haired demon would emerge from the peaceful scenery to drag me away.
My short but intense rebellion. My freedom.
I closed my eyes.
Just for a moment.
This sofa of respite. Under this pleasant AC breeze, peace.
Bang!
Already over?
It had come. Much faster than expected.
My brief freedom ends like this.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
But why so noisy?
Did Seria bring the Special Task Force?
Amid the loud commotion, multiple shadows poured into the bank.
Heavy combat boots stomping marble floors. Clanging metal.
I sighed deeply, preparing to stand.
I'll go quietly.
But I'll demand grilled eel rice for dinner.
Need to replenish the energy I burned today.
"Don't move! Hands on your heads, everyone!"
Eh?
Different voice.
Not Seria's icy tone.
A hoarse, irritable, unfamiliar man's voice.
And the scene before my eyes.
No stately Special Task Force uniforms.
Instead.
About a dozen men in black ski masks, guns in hand.
Hoodies of mismatched sizes, who knows where from.
Outfits screaming 'I'm a robber' and 'third-rate villain' from head to toe.
One, two, three... roughly ten.
They moved in unison, sealing the entrances, threatening tellers.
Some conjured flames from their palms or wrapped electricity around their bodies.
Superpowered villains.
"Robbers! Everyone down! Hurry!"
Bang—!
A real gun flashing blue from the barrel. Loaded with real bullets, a deadly weapon.
People in the bank screamed and hit the floor.
I stared blankly at the scene.
What situation is this?
Not Seria coming for me?
Then who are they?
Bank robbers? For real?
In Neo Incheon's busy streets? Broad daylight?
"Hey! You! Stop standing there like an idiot and get down!"
One robber aimed his gun at me and yelled.
Snapping to, I hurriedly dropped to the floor like everyone else.
Good.
Not Seria.
Wait.
Is this a good thing?
Skipped work to avoid it, and ran into bank robbers?
Why won't the world let me live a normal citizen's life?