Chapter 77

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 77

Chapter Title: The Mayor and the Monsoon

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August.

Neo Incheon's sky had turned gray.

Raindrops clung to the window, unable to defy gravity as they slid down in rivulets.

Was it too poetic to say they resembled tears foretelling my fate?

Well, that was just how I felt right now.

"Ugh, so sticky..."

Even with the AC running in dehumidify mode, the clammy sensation clinging to my skin wouldn't go away. Every water vapor particle floating in the air felt like it was gnawing at my sanity.

I'd long since ditched my necktie and shirt, sprawling in a loose short-sleeved tee nearly prone in my chair.

I looked less like the mayor and more like some neighborhood bum, but who cared? Dressing formally in this weather was torture.

Mrrrowl!

Nero, who had been splayed out on the floor, let out an irritable yowl. His prized tri-color fur was matted in clumps from the humidity. He tried grooming himself with frantic licks, but the more he licked, the messier it got.

"Hey, you too? Just stay still."

Meow!

He gave up on his fur and started pawing at the AC remote instead, pressing buttons insistently.

Beep—beep—beeep!

Yeah, you're pissed too, huh.

This endless monsoon. A whole week now. I could barely remember the last time I saw the sun. It felt like water was pouring from every hole in the world.

Nero finally gave up too and flopped spread-eagled on the floor.

Yeah, both of us were screwed. In the face of this disaster called the monsoon, Nero and I were powerless.

Knock knock.

The door opened with the knock, and Seria entered carrying a tray.

She alone seemed exempt from the humidity's tyranny, impeccably dressed in her perfect suit without a single wrinkle.

Even her pale pink hair looked fluffy and dry.

Did that woman have some personal dehumidification barrier active?

"Mayor, Nero's having a rough time again today."

She set steaming coffee on my desk as she spoke.

She only worries about the cat—doesn't she see me suffering?

"Look at that guy's fur. He's like a defective hedgehog, oozing dampness instead of quills."

"He's a cat, so claws instead of quills. And you'd be the first sacrifice, so best not rile him up."

I grumbled pointlessly as I took the coffee she offered.

"When the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hell is this rain gonna stop? It's soaking right into my bones."

The rich bean aroma tickled my nose, but it wasn't enough to dispel the mustiness.

"Forecast says it'll continue all week. Getting worse, apparently."

Outside the window, still gray. No sign of the rain letting up.

"The rain must be making your stupidity even thicker. Absorbing the moisture."

"What? Hey, Seria. Isn't that going too far? Linking my intelligence to the weather."

"Sorry. Your stupidity is consistently high regardless of the weather. I misspoke."

Was that an apology or a confirmation shot?

I pouted and turned my gaze to the window.

"By the way, Seria. Aren't you hot? Stuffy? Always in that armor-like suit."

It was genuine curiosity. No human could endure this humidity in that outfit.

The rational suspicion that she might be a robot or alien crossed my mind.

"Oh my."

Seria suddenly covered her mouth in mock shock.

"Are you seriously telling your female secretary to undress in this official office?"

"No, who said undress! I just asked if you're not hot! Why'd it jump there?!"

"Maybe some lecherous desire lurking in your subconscious? Human actions stem from the unconscious, after all. As expected, you're an irredeemable pervert, Mayor."

"I just asked how you stay so fresh!"

"Just kidding."

To that woman, "joking" must be synonymous with "mocking with utter sincerity to mentally destroy."

I was about to yell in indignation when my eyes fixed on the large TV screen in the corner of the office.

A serious-faced weathercaster rattled off without pause.

One corner of the screen showed a bright red map of Neo Incheon.

Record-breaking monsoon in 100 years. The phrase nailed itself into my brain.

"...It's here."

I murmured unconsciously.

Yes, finally. The opportunity from the heavens. Proof that God hasn't abandoned me.

Natural disaster.

An unavoidable catastrophe beyond human power.

Over the past few months, I'd poured every effort into being an incompetent mayor.

But what were the results?

Captured a terrorist group via horoscope fortunes, uncovered corruption through association audits. Succeeded in a drug bust op, eradicated a crime syndicate over stray cat issues. Even my sabotage sparked a fight that unearthed ancient ruins, turning it into a tourist district.

Damn this world—whatever I do turns to success. It's a mad setup.

But this time's different. Not man-made disaster. This is heavenly calamity.

"Mayor?"

A disaster beyond human control.

If the mayor bungles the response? Public outrage would pierce the skies.

'Mayor Lee Garam's incompetence brings catastrophe!' What a perfect scenario.

Before nature's might, even I, Lee Garam, am just a powerless mayor!

Ancient dynasties blamed droughts or floods on the king's virtue, even sacrificing them. Times change, but essence doesn't. When disaster strikes the city, fury targets the top dog—the mayor, me, Lee Garam.

'Incompetent Mayor Lee Garam! Unvirtuous ruler who incurred heaven's wrath!'

My new plan: non-response. Incompetence, negligence, dereliction of duty! This trinity will shatter my approval ratings!

"Mayor, urgent report from Safety Management HQ. Emergency budget approval request for inspecting major drainage facilities and pump stations. Needs your sign-off."

Seria had piled documents mountain-high on my desk. Already sodden from the humid air, they curled damply.

"Hm..."

I deliberately paused. Feigning gravity, stroking my chin in contemplation before speaking.

"Needs careful review."

"...Pardon?"

"Executing such a large budget so hastily could raise procedural issues. Taxpayers' money is precious, so first formally table it at city council, review through relevant departments..."

Of course, zero intention of actual review. Just shove 'em in a drawer. Isn't "careful review" bureaucracy's politest way of saying "not doing it"?

"...If that's your will, Mayor, we'll proceed accordingly."

She replied curtly and bowed slightly.

After that, reports flooded the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠office phone nonstop.

"Mayor! Reports of backflow signs at Jung-gu sewage plant!"

"Seo-gu industrial complex drains clogged, flooding starting!"

"Yeonsu-gu Songdo Central Park lake on brink of overflow!"

But I stayed calm.

"Citizens seem overly sensitive. Send an official notice saying 'Rest easy and carry on with your livelihoods. City Hall is monitoring all situations closely.'"

Weird complaints poured in too.

"Strange gurgling from the sewer in front of my house! Like some huge creature breathing!"

"Fishy stench from the sea is unbearable! Not like rotting fish!"

"Fish in Ulwangri mudflats suddenly floating belly-up white! Omen or what?!"

I let them flow in one ear and out the other.

"Hm, just typical monsoon stuff."

Gurgling? Old sewer pipes.

Fishy smell? Rain bringing up tidal flat odors.

Mass fish death? Sudden temperature shock.

Ignoring these petty gripes would boost my incompetence score nicely.

I sank deep into my chair, crossing my legs.

'Eh, so what if it floods a bit. Inconvenient for a few days at most. Not like the whole city's turning into Neo-Bikinicity.'

Rain still hammered outside like mad.

Listening to the downpour, I smiled contentedly.

When this rain ends, my approval ratings will wash away clean too.

The underground beneath Namdong-gu Guwol-dong was a vast maze.

Stinging the nose: mold, unidentified filth, and briny seawater.

Faintly flickering torches illuminated damp walls, making water droplets gleam like fish scales.

Wall carvings depicted something resembling a giant octopus—ominous tentacles wrapping the city, humans leaping into the sea in terror.

In the center of that space, the widest cavern, over a hundred shadowy figures stood arrayed.

All cloaked in black robes. But glimpsed hands and faces weren't human. Some had webbed fingers; others had fish-gill scars writhing on their necks. Faint scales on skin reflected torchlight in eerie gleams.

They were the Sea Dragon Cult. Worshippers of the West Sea Dragon King, Kraken.

Altar piled with live fish and seaweed offerings.

The ritual hurtled toward climax.

The final rite to awaken their god, the great Kraken. The fruition of decades of preparation.

Then.

The man at the altar's forefront abruptly halted his prayer.

Sea Dragon Cult leader, A-rank villain, Deep Father Yi Hae-su.

Half his face covered in living octopus tentacles. Normally subtly writhing, whispering deep-sea songs, now they convulsed violently like a seizure.

"Guhk...!"

Gills at his neck spasmed open and shut. He clutched his chest.

The connection severed.

The fragment of god implanted in him, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Kraken's tentacle piece—no longer transmitted the great consciousness, the massive life's pulse.

"Leader...?"

"What is it?"

Yi Hae-su raised a trembling hand to silence them. Then listened intently.

Nothing.

Absolute silence.

The sea's song always in his ears, Kraken's breath—gone.

"Our god... no longer whispers to us. The song has stopped. The heart of the sea has ceased."

He turned slowly. His face pale with despair.

"No... it can't be... Merely not responding to our feeble call..."

Right then, a follower rushed up, thrusting a tablet PC at Yi Hae-su.

"Leader! Breaking news—just now!"

"Aaa... Aaaaaah!"

A female follower collapsed at the sight, wailing.

That was the signal.

The cavern filled with sobs and screams.

Cloaked followers bashed heads on the floor, beat chests in grief. Some foamed at the mouth, convulsing.

The cave turned to pandemonium of lament, rage.

"Our god! Taken by those lowly mortals!"

"Those land scum...!"

"Lee Garam! Never forgive!"

Another follower pulled up different news.

Research. Analysis. Dissection.

Their great god butchered and dissected by human hands.

Insult.

Blasphemy.

"Those foolish land-dwellers dare mock our god!"

"They've insulted our father! No mercy!"

"Revenge of the sea!"

Yi Hae-su slowly spoke.

"God is not dead."

The wails cut off.

All eyes on him.

"The great Kraken lives. Merely wounded by mortals' hands, retreated deeper into slumber."

His words engraved as new revelation in zealots' ears.

"When the sea reclaims the land, God shall awaken! We must hasten that day. Create the sea for His resurrection!"

Yi Hae-su spread his arms wide.

"Lee Garam killed our god. Stole everything from us."

His gaze fixed on the tablet's image of Lee Garam.

"They took our most precious— we'll take his! What does Lee Garam cherish? The city he rules, Neo Incheon! The citizens he protects! Offer them all as sea's tribute! Sink that arrogant city whole into the abyss."

He scanned the followers.

Despair replaced by murderous silence.

"Revenge? No. This is judgment! Holy war! Time to teach those insolent land-dwellers the terror of water, the abyss's fury!"

Yi Hae-su pointed to the altar's rear wall.

"Heaven aids us. 100-year deluge blesses our crusade. Reverse all drains. Draw seawater to clog the city's veins."

Kriiiiek!

A follower pressed a wall section; it split, revealing tangled pipes, valves—a massive machine.

"Tell the brethren! The great flood begins now!"

Decades of secret sewer installations across the city. Machines to reverse all drains and sewers activated.

Sewer flows reversed, gates opened, seawater pulled into the city's heart.

Manhole covers rattled upward, black sludge mixed with rainwater backflowing.

The gurgling from sewers now echoed citywide.

Deep Father Yi Hae-su stood at the altar, smiling at the resonance.

"Lee Garam... Watch clearly as everything you love drowns and screams."