Chapter 7

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 7

Chapter Title: The Mayor's Sigh

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No.

No no no.

This isn't it.

Absolutely, positively not.

Why is the entire city in such an uproar over some monumental achievement?

This wasn't my plan. My scenario never accounted for a happy ending like this.

All my roadmaps led to ruin. There was no path to glory.

I just wanted to get impeached.

I wanted the citizens' fury, the heroes' resentment, the council's distrust—so I could be cleanly ousted from this perilous mayor's office.

All I dreamed of was a modest, realistic future: grabbing my embezzled slush funds and sipping cocktails on a warm southern beach.

So why?

Why on earth?

How come praises for me are echoing everywhere?

The "Impeach Lee Garam" signs that filled the plaza in front of City Hall—where did they go? Now "Protect Bright Garam" pickets had taken their place.

The world was flowing in the exact opposite direction of my wishes.

The image of a righteous mayor exposing the Association's corruption grew more solid by the day, and my approval ratings were skyrocketing past vertical ascent into orbit.

"......Ha."

A hollow laugh escaped me.

Well. This isn't so bad, I guess.

My ultimate goal hasn't changed anyway.

Plummeting.

What a sweet word.

Yes, I am Icarus.

The fool who soars toward the sun with fake wings made of wax.

Everyone cheers my flight now, but I know the end: wings melting in the scorching sun, crashing into the cold sea.

The thrill of hurtling from the peak to the depths.

Yes, let me enjoy this precarious high-altitude flight a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bit longer.

The higher I climb, the more spectacular and dramatic the fall.

Besides, I'm a far more proactive version of Icarus. I'm ready to grab a hairdryer and melt my own wings.

I was barely holding my sanity together with that self-brainwashing when—

Knock. Knock.

My gaze turned to the door where the sound came from.

A knock?

Seria is a creature oblivious to social norms like knocking. She always appears silently, stopping my heart as a hobby.

So who could it be?

"Come in."

The door opened, and I nearly screamed at the sight of the intruder.

Jin Yeonhwa.

President of the Korea Superhero Association.

Flaming red hair, golden eyes that seemed to pierce through everything.

She hadn't shattered the window this time, but her presence entering through the front door was no less intimidating. If anything, more chilling.

"Eek!"

Damn. Here it comes.

I instinctively ducked under the desk but stopped myself.

No, wait.

This is... a chance.

Yes, there's still hope.

How arrogantly had I behaved toward her?

I grabbed her by the collar and insulted her. I trampled her pride in the name of the city's authority.

Regardless of the audit results, it's obvious she'd harbor personal grudges against me.

Perfect.

I'll poke her sore spot one more time here. Pour oil on her rage.

And induce her to bury me.

"What brings you here, Madam President?"

I crossed my legs as haughtily and irritably as possible, looking up at her.

Come on, explode in anger.

Flip my desk over.

Jin Yeonhwa slowly scanned my office before approaching and plopping down on the sofa.

Then, in a remarkably calm voice, she said,

"Honestly, at first, I thought about snapping your neck."

......Neck?

My actual neck, not just the mayoral position?

A chill sweat trickled down my spine.

"Daring to touch me? I wondered what gave you the guts."

She continued casually, as if discussing last night's dinner menu.

Gulp.

I swallowed dryly.

"But you know."

Jin Yeonhwa grinned.

Goosebumps rose at that smile.

"I saw you in a new light. I thought you were just a third-rate politician pulling corruption scams, but you've got some real guts."

......Huh?

"What if nothing had come up? You'd have shouldered all the blame. And you pushed anyway? You've got a gambler's spirit."

That was the point—to take the blame and end my political and real life!

It wasn't betting for a win; it was all-in to go bankrupt!

"And that first meeting. You knew I wasn't really that mad, right?"

Because I saw it in the original story.

That Jin Yeonhwa looks hot-tempered on the outside but calculates situations more coldly than anyone inside.

But she seemed to interpret my silence differently.

"You're the first to read that about me. Most people just tremble in front of me."

No.

That's not it.

I'm just utterly confused right now.

"Don't worry. I've cleaned up the moles hiding in the Association myself."

The emphasis on "cleaned up" was just my imagination, right?

Jin Yeonhwa rose and strode toward me.

"The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠world needs balance. Can't have only good or only evil. Unpredictable variables like you are necessary sometimes."

Her golden eyes examined me with interest.

"Was all that provocation just acting? 'Deceive your enemies by first deceiving your allies.' Pretty classic tactic. Effective, though."

No! I was just sincerely trying to piss you off!

"Looking forward to more."

She extended her hand.

A handshake.

Under the overwhelming pressure I couldn't refuse, I reluctantly offered mine.

Crack.

"Agh!"

It felt less like a handshake and more like a hydraulic press crushing my hand. My knuckles screamed.

"Haha! Let's get along, rookie mayor."

Thwack! Thwack!

She slapped my back heartily.

Not slapped—swung at it. The impact felt like a heavy club, staggering me forward. All the air whooshed out of my lungs.

"Let's grab drinks sometime. My treat."

By the time she left the office leisurely, I was a wreck.

I stood dazed for a while, rubbing my aching hand and arm.

"No... this isn't it..."

Quiet office.

Hard to believe a human hurricane had just swept through.

Swish.

In the midst of that silence, a woman stood beside the sofa.

Pinkish-lavender hair. Cool turquoise eyes.

Seria stared at me intently.

Since when?

"Mayor, you look a mess."

"Uh, how long have you been there?"

"Since you and the Association President were having that intense skinship."

"Skinship?"

She watched the whole process of me nearly getting beaten to death by that superhuman she-beast. Like it was some thrilling wildlife documentary. From start to finish. Not missing a single frame?

"I almost died just now! My secretary just stands there gawking while the boss gets assaulted?"

"I thought you were enjoying it. Figured it was a form of communication. Like new political bonding through physical contact."

"Does that look like bonding? It's one-sided, merciless assault!"

"Assault depends on the victim's intent. You didn't resist at all."

"When did I not! And how am I supposed to resist a walking natural disaster?!"

Seria ignored me lightly and placed a tablet on my desk.

"Real-time approval ratings. Right after rumors spread of your positive meeting with the President, it jumped another 10 points. Record high."

Nearly half the citizens support me? You ignorant fools!

"They say a monkey banging on a typewriter infinitely will eventually produce Shakespeare. You're personally proving that theory, Mayor. Should I report it to academia? 'Infinite Lee Garam Theorem' has a nice ring."

I faceplanted onto the desk.

Thud.

The cold wood touched my feverish cheek. Unreal.

Everything was going smoothly. My political stock was tracing a beautiful downward curve toward delisting.

But why?

How come?

Why is the stock suddenly pumping like a penny stock manipulation?

"Are you testing the limits of how much your incompetence can be packaged as luck?"

"Luck? Does this look like luck? It's a curse! A catastrophe! Pandora's box! Trojan horse!"

I slammed the desk with my fist and stood.

Of course, my hand hurt.

"A curse."

Seria mulled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it over with interest.

"Most people devote their lives to earning such a 'curse.' Seems like you don't know what to do with yourself, mistaken for a diamond rough when you're just road gravel."

She added,

"Don't worry. You lack the skill to polish that gem anyway, so everyone will soon realize it's just a pebble."

"Pebble? Yeah, I'm a pebble. I just want to be kicked around on the roadside! So why do they keep picking me up and stuffing me in a silk pouch?!"

My cry was desperate.

I asserted my right to misery.

"Who knows. Maybe your 100% organic pure stupidity looks like a rare mineral."

"Shut up! Get out!"

"Oh, one more thing."

"What else is there?!"

"A department-wide dinner tonight to celebrate your success, Mayor."

"Dinner? By whose authority?"

"Unanimous vote of all staff excluding you."

Seria bowed politely and turned to leave. She knew that pissed me off more.

In my gloom, I checked the community site.

A site full of mischievous brats—surely full of mockery for me here.

[Analysis] Mayor Lee Garam: Why Target the Association Despite the Risk of Backlash?

[Column] The Solitary Gambler: Re-evaluating Lee Garam's Leadership

Don't laugh.

Don't re-evaluate.

Just curse me like you used to.