Chapter 56

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 56

Chapter Title: The Mayor's Sacrifice

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The next day.

Well, calling it the next day might not be quite accurate.

The all-nighter investigation wrapped up right around dawn, so technically, it was still the same day.

It's one of those moments where the boundary between yesterday and today blurs from the perspective of time's continuity.

"Mayor Lee Garam! Could you say a few words about this operation?"

"The entire nation was moved by your noble sacrifice for the citizens!"

"What were your feelings when you voluntarily became a hostage?"

"Is it true that this incident was part of a grand plan orchestrated by you from the start?"

Cameras. Cameras. Cameras.

The flashes from the cameras at the city hall entrance scorched my retinas.

Mics. Mics. Mics.

Microphones surged toward my mouth.

Reporters, anchors, broadcasters, influencers.

All sorts of information peddlers looked like a pack of hyenas charging at me, their prey.

My feelings? A meticulous plan? A hero?

No. No. No. None of that.

What the hell were these people talking about?

My state of mind could be summed up in three letters: screwed.

There was no plan. It was just the manifestation of a lowly citizen's desire to slack off somehow.

Hero? Don't make me laugh. I'm just a pathetic slave who savored half a day of freedom.

But my true voice had no chance of reaching that whirlwind of madness.

The world had already crafted its own narrative.

[Lee Garam Offers Selfless Sacrifice to Save Citizens]

How beautiful and touching that headline was.

The truth would scatter like dust before the views it generated.

"Yes! That's right! Everything unfolded under the mayor's meticulous plan!"

I turned my head and saw several young Special Task Force members in uniform.

They were part of the team that came to rescue... no, retrieve me last night.

Wait, who the hell authorized interviews?!

"The situation at the time was on a knife's edge."

The Special Task Force members' faces were etched with solemnity.

"When we arrived on scene, the mayor wasn't shaken in the slightest. Instead, he was calmly admonishing the kidnappers. 'Young people, this won't change the world. It's not too late—turn yourselves in and find redemption,' he said."

Me?

When did I...?

I had no memory of that. No recollection of spouting such lines.

I'd merely given them a brutally realistic survival guide: 'If you run now, you might save your necks.'

They called it mercy. The final mercy.

"The mayor's strategy was truly astonishing. Psychological warfare worthy of a profiler. Luring the kidnappers by pretending to advise them, guiding them right into the Special Task Force's patrol route... It's truly admirable!"

Luring? Admirable?

What the fuck had these guys taken as a group?!

But the truth didn't matter. Results spoke for themselves.

Black Hound wiped out.

They were C-rank small-time crooks, but the issue was their symbolism.

"As you know, Black Hound is a vicious villain group operating in a cell structure. They lure in delinquent teens or low-level ability users struggling with poverty and drag them into crime—like a villain training ground."

They were just local punks who hit sausage factories.

Where did they pull that grandiose backstory from?

"And they were cunning bastards, making their hideout nearly impossible to pinpoint! But the mayor pulled it off. He became bait himself, plunged into the heart of the enemy, and relayed the exact location to us. This was all part of the mayor's meticulous plan."

Instead of citizens as hostages, he took their place and single-handedly raided the villains' lair.

That was the 'truth' the world accepted.

"Ah... Ah..."

My inner scream welled up to my throat, but all that escaped were feeble groans.

In the end, after fielding a few perfunctory answers amid the barrage of questions, I barely escaped back to the mayor's office.

"Haa... Haa..."

Only after the door shut did I finally breathe.

I collapsed onto the sofa and pulled out my smartphone.

With a faint flicker of hope. Just maybe.

Praise, adulation, respect,.

The internet was a furnace boiling over with acclaim for me.

My failure had been gift-wrapped as success, a golden crown thrust upon my head.

Its weight threatened to snap my neck.

I quietly turned off my smartphone.

No need to see more.

Interpretations utterly at odds with my intentions. Near-delusional praise for my actions.

The world was desperate to make me a hero.

The more I wanted to remain a run-of-the-mill corrupt mayor, the more it sculpted me into something greater.

This was absurd theater.

"Seria."

I cried out desperately to the pink-haired disaster across the desk.

"I... think I need to take some sick leave."

A pitiable victim tormented by kidnapping aftermath.

I acted out trauma-stricken misery to the hilt.

I'm not the mayor right now. I'm a survivor who barely escaped a horrific crime.

"From last night's kidnapping... my mind and body are utterly exhausted. Whenever I close my eyes, the terror comes back... that thug's hideous mug... Urgh..."

I hugged myself and shuddered for effect. Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor material.

Amazed at my own acting, I gauged Seria's reaction.

Expecting sympathy. Pity. At least basic human decency.

"Denied."

Not a hint of hesitation.

Her refusal popped out like a canned drink from a vending machine at the press of a button.

"How can you be so heartless! I'm the victim! A kidnapping survivor! PTSD! Post-traumatic stress disorder!"

"Mayor. Work is piled up."

"Work? Seria, can't you see my condition? I—I—I went through hell yesterday! Kidnapped! Imprisoned! Threatened! A normal person might never endure a lifetime trauma trifecta like that!"

I mustered the most pitiful expression.

Rimmed my eyes red like tears were imminent, voice trembling thin.

Every ounce of pathos in me poured into the performance.

"Forcing work on someone with this mental shock is cruel, isn't it? I need counseling in the psych stabilization room right now, at least a week of sick leave! Nero massages too! This is the bare minimum right a poor victim can claim!"

My tirade. My scream. My plea.

"I see."

After a moment, she spoke.

"That must have been a truly horrific and frightening experience."

A trace of sympathy in her tone?

Yes! It worked!

My genius acting! Hollywood missing out on me is humanity's greatest cultural tragedy!

I inwardly cheered, prepping my next line.

At least a month—no, two months of recovery...

"You must have felt the greatest terror in this scene especially."

Her face blank, she held out her tablet PC right in front of me.

Playing on the screen: CCTV footage.

Burger drive-thru.

Black Hound's getaway van visible.

A man leaning out the passenger window.

Me.

[Hey! Large burger sets times ten, chicken burger large sets times ten, swap colas for zero sugar! Oh, right! No salt on the fries!]

Video-me ordered with utter calm and natural ease.

Even kindly asking the backseat thug, 'What do you want? Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese since you're the leader?'

Ironclad evidence. Undeniable proof.

The footage that turned my entire performance to bubbles in an instant.

Busted.

"Special Task Force secured vehicle black box and surrounding CCTV. Your alibi for that 'horrific and terrifying' memory is crystal clear."

"......"

"Who was it in the moving van to the abandoned factory, giving kidnappers life consulting like 'If you're getting caught anyway, better enjoy it fully first'?"

"Urk...!"

I was struck dumb, honey-mouthed.

My brain bluescreened, abandoning all excuses.

"Now, get up. Mountains of work piled up while you were away, Mayor."

She swiped to today's approval docs list. Endless hell-scroll.

"Let's see... 37 urgent approvals, 112 department reports, and... Ah."

Seria clapped like she'd remembered something.

"Extra tasks from your little adventure yesterday. Black Hound takedown op report, punishment and reform programs for those involved, and youth ability user support policy based on this incident."

A devilish smile curled her lips.

"You'll be pulling an all-nighter tonight, Mayor."

My freedom.

My vacation.

All bubbles.

The price of my brief escape for liberty: heavier, longer chains of labor.

And overtime.

Overtime on top.

"Kwaaaagh!"

My scream filled the empty mayor's office.

Of course, no one listened.