Chapter 70
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 70
Chapter Title: The Mayor's Daily Life
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Today, the morning sun rose once again.
Work starts at 9 a.m.
If I were to show some basic human decency or conscience, arriving around 8:55 would be ideal.
And my smartwatch read 9:30.
Late.
Late, in the dictionary sense, means arriving after the set time.
But I dare to claim that the concept of being late doesn't exist for the mayor.
Why? Because the moment the mayor arrives at work is Neo Incheon's official start of business hours.
If I clock in at nine, nine is the start. If it's ten, then ten is the start.
In other words, I'm not late. I'm flexibly adjusting the city's biorhythm.
Grrr...
A comfortable vibration rumbled from my shoulder.
My one and only comrade, and Neo Incheon's official mascot.
His Majesty Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus was expressing agreement with my sophistry.
Yes, Nero knows the truth too. This city revolves around me, Mayor Lee Garam.
I strode through the glass doors of City Hall's main building with as much dignity as I could muster.
"Good morning, Mr. Mayor."
The passing civil servants greeted me politely. I nodded sternly in response.
Of course, inside, I was desperately chanting, 'Please don't talk to me, don't act like you know me, don't shove those approval documents at me.'
Today's destination wasn't my office.
That place is hell. A chaotic battlefield overflowing with approvals, reports, and complaints.
I needed somewhere beyond Seria's surveillance network.
The only free territory within City Hall, my personal sanctuary. Shangri-La!
I spam-pressed the elevator's close button and unhesitatingly hit the top floor.
Destination: the rooftop garden.
Officially called the 'Citizen Healing Green Space.' But to me, it's the 'Mayor Loafing Optimization Zone.'
Warm sunlight, just the right shade, and above all, hardly any people in the morning.
"Nero, this is our El Dorado."
I set Nero down on the plush grass, and as if waiting for it, he stretched out, yawned, and began baking his belly loaf in the sunniest spot.
What a cat who knows his stuff. He gets the essence of loafing.
I flopped down on the fluffiest-looking bench.
Ah, peaceful. The sky is high, the breeze is cool, and the documents... probably piled up like a mountain in my office down below.
But so what?
Documents don't run away. They're always there. So I can do them later. No, I can put them off forever!
"Kekeke. This is why being mayor is great. The highest seat, looking down on everyone. Means no need to work."
Of course, I know that's just my wishful thinking, not reality.
Soon, the angel of hell will find me.
But until that moment, I have the right to savor this fleeting peace.
"Alright, Nero, you have to be my alibi. Tell Seria I was late because I was rescuing a baby bird that fell from its nest with you. You can do that, right?"
Nyaam-
I was just closing my eyes, letting the city's noise lull me to sleep.
Click.
Click.
Strange. No asphalt floor, yet why this clear, threatening sound?
The executioner's footsteps to a condemned man. In the quiet garden, the echo of heels always meant her.
"Mr. Mayor."
A massive shadow fell over my closed eyes.
I slowly opened them to see a devil in silhouette against the backlight.
No, scarier than a devil—my secretary looking down at me.
Pinkish hair and cold turquoise eyes. Seria Park.
"What are you doing here? Were you perhaps personally experiencing photosynthesis to gain inspiration for eco-friendly energy policies?"
"Uh, uh... yeah, exactly! Seria, you really get me."
I shot up and bluffed shamelessly. But her lips didn't twitch a millimeter.
"I see. Truly moving, drooling precious saliva on the bench for inspiration. The city's progress must be thanks to your sacrificial spirit."
Damn, did I drool? I quickly wiped my mouth.
"Ahem. Anyway, I've got all the inspiration now, so shall we get to work?"
"Yes. The mountains of documents piling up in your office are waiting desperately for your pen stroke infused with that inspiration."
Her words bristled with about a million thorns.
In the end, I hoisted Nero back on my shoulder and trudged out of the rooftop garden.
My El Dorado wasn't here either. It was a mirage from the start.
Approvals, approvals, approvals.
What is the mayor's position?
The king of the city? Hardly. The city's slave.
The mayor is the final responsible party for all the city's misfortunes, disasters, and complaints.
In other words, the final destination for every horrific document.
[Hero Dispatch Request. S-rank Villain, Gravity Zero, destroys Guwol-dong shopping district. Damage: 3 billion won.]
[Disaster Recovery Budget Request. B-rank Monster, Metal Hippo's rampage: road repair costs 500 million won.]
[Civil Complaint. My house cat got startled by the neighbor's dog and fell off the fence—city must compensate.]
Is this a country? No, is this a city?
My soul feels like it's draining out as ink.
"Well, shall we begin? I've sorted them by priority, so start with the ones marked with red stickers."
Seria stood beside me, elegantly pointing to a section of the document mountain.
Red stickers.
The color of death. Of blood. Of danger.
But looking closely... they're all red?
"Seria, are all these urgent?"
"Yes. They're the ones you've been putting off. Now they're all urgent. Congratulations, a miracle born from your loafing."
"This isn't a miracle—it's a disaster!"
Boss [Incompetent Mayor Lee Garam] attempted a last-ditch struggle pattern.
"I, I... my wrist hurts... I gamed all night yesterday..."
"Gaming?"
"Yeah, there was a raid..."
"......"
Seria's silence was terrifying.
One second. Two. Three.
"Don't worry. I prepared a gift for just such a situation."
She held out a luxurious velvet case.
What? A bribe? Trying to buy me off with money?
Cheeky. But I'll take it anyway.
Opening the case revealed a fountain pen set gleaming brilliantly.
Sleek body, platinum-plated nib. It screamed expensive.
"A handmade ergonomic fountain pen set from Germany's M Company. Customized based on analysis of your wrist angle and writing pressure. You'll barely feel fatigue even after long sessions."
"Ooh, nice."
"Yes. It's my duty to ease your pain, even a little. Though the root cause is you yourself."
This wasn't a gift. It was a chain. High-tech shackles to exploit me more efficiently.
I picked up the pen in despair. It fit my hand perfectly, like magic.
"Now no more excuses. Get to work."
Damn, the writing feel is too good.
Curses! This is German engineering! German science is truly the world's best!!
Time crawled by, and soon the clock chimed lunchtime.
"Mr. Mayor, you need to eat."
"Ah, lunch... maybe skip it today..."
Hunger strike. Nonviolent resistance.
Gandhi did it, Mandela too. I can do it!
I'll fight this unfair labor exploitation.
"No."
Firm refusal.
"Your health is Neo Incheon's asset. The new Italian place nearby has good reviews. Already reserved."
"What about my opinion!?"
She wasn't asking. It was a notice.
Another lunch alone with Seria, as always.
I rose from my seat powerlessly.
The place Seria reserved was a high-end Italian restaurant near City Hall.
Classical music playing, people murmuring softly—the exact kind of place I hate.
"I want jjajangmyeon..."
"You've been eating too much unhealthy food lately, Mr. Mayor. Excess sodium is bad for you."
She ordered without even glancing at the menu.
The food that arrived: meatless oil pasta, some unknown greens, and tough-looking chicken breast. That was it.
This is lunch? Prison food would be better.
"Enjoy your meal, Mr. Mayor."
Seria elegantly twirled her fork and knife, bringing food to her mouth. A painting come to life.
I forced down the pasta and greens.
That's when it happened.
Seria suddenly stood slightly and leaned toward me.
"Mr. Mayor."
"Hm?"
"You have sauce on your mouth."
"Huh?"
"Really, so sloppy."
She naturally took a napkin and gently wiped my mouth.
Lavender scent brushed my nose. Her turquoise eyes were right in front of me due to the closeness.
Thump!
My heart skipped a beat.
An alarm blared in my head.
Huh?
Huh?
Something's off.
This scene, this angle. I've seen it somewhere before.
Right. It was one of the moves I planned to use when hitting on her.
Pretend accident for skinship. Secretary harassment operation.
A tearful plan to get labeled a sleazy pervert boss and impeached.
Of course, it was a total failure. I just got called 'cute' instead.
"......"
What is this?
Am I... being sexually harassed right now?
Thinking about it, these incidents have been increasing lately.
Fingers brushing when handing documents, deliberately brushing bodies in narrow halls.
At first, I thought coincidence, or just her work style.
No, no way. Me? With her?
Seria Park hitting on me? Why? No reason. Must be fatigue-induced delusion.
Yeah, all from excessive work stress.
I shook my head and chewed the tough chicken breast salad.
"Mr. Mayor?"
"Uh, yeah?"
"What's wrong? Your face is red. Allergic to something in the salad?"
Seria tilted her head, expression as blank as ever.
Yeah, my imagination. That icy woman wouldn't.
No way she'd be interested in me.
If anything, like a scientist eyeing a lab rat.
"No, just... the food's so good it moved me! This greens' freshness! Feels like I'm a rabbit—best! Haha."
I laughed awkwardly to cover.
"I see. Good. You have mountains of afternoon work, so eat up."
"If stamina is national power, I'm a refugee from a fallen nation."
"Then rebuild it. You're the mayor."
Her lips curved slightly.
Was that a smile? A sneer?
Who knows.
This woman is a total mystery.