Chapter 91

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 91

Chapter Title: The Mayor and Punishment

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A few days passed.

Einstein said time is relative. He even gave it the grandiose name of the theory of relativity.

But I, Lee Garam, know better.

Time is absolute. Absolutely cruel, absolutely merciless, and absolutely not on my side.

The past few days have felt like an eternity to me.

No, eternity isn't the right word.

Eternity just means endless time—it doesn't capture the density of suffering packed inside.

Let me correct that. The past few days were hell.

Every morning I open my eyes, and there's my face plastered across the front page of the newspapers, big as a barn door.

Bullshit.

Total nonsense.

Sophistry.

All I wanted was to quietly take some bribes like a normal, humble guy.

The lone spear piercing corruption's heart? I only cared about the amount hitting my bank account.

Divine gambit? It was just a brainless blunder with zero thought behind it.

Great operation? Sure, there was a plan.

A utterly self-serving one: How can I take the money without raising suspicions and tank my approval rating at the same time?

But the world refuses to understand me.

The Special Audit Team led by Enforcer Kang Hyunwoo tore into the executives like sharks smelling blood.

Once they ransacked the offices and factories of those 15 companies, the stench of corruption enveloped Neo Incheon's city hall.

Tax evasion, embezzlement, breach of trust, illegal subcontracting, unpaid wages, data falsification, unauthorized discharge of pollutants, illegal dumping of industrial waste.

It was a comprehensive gift set of Korean corporate crimes.

On average, three to five major felonies per company came crawling out, one after another.

Victims came forward in droves, and whistleblowers who'd been keeping quiet finally mustered the courage to speak.

And all the credit landed squarely on me.

"I'm telling you, it's not like that! I really meant to take it!"

I clung to people in the city hall corridors, at press conferences, even to officials I bumped into in the bathroom, pleading my case.

"Those bundles of cash! They weren't props! Real money! Precious funds that were almost my slush fund!"

But ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no one believes me.

Why?

Simple reason.

I prepared too perfectly.

In case those bastards stab me in the back or record me.

That small-time everyman's self-defense instinct kicked in, turning every call I had with the executives into legally impeccable official business talk.

If the bribes get exposed, I need official documents squeaky clean.

Thanks to that risk-management mindset, every official document and approval form was purity itself.

Until impeachment forces me to flee, I need to play it safe.

In the end, I didn't take a single penny.

All my actions were desperate flailing to avoid prison.

But the world interpreted every bit of it as "the hero's meticulous scheme to smite evil."

Anybody could see it was a trap.

A planned purge, plain as day.

This is comedy. No, beyond comedy—an absurd farce.

I feel like Kafka's protagonist. Woke up one morning not as a bug, but a hero. Horrifying.

And the chief culprit snowballing this misunderstanding? None other than Hero Daily's Moon Hyeji.

This isn't journalism. It's practically a passage from a hagiography.

Write a novel, why don't you? With prose like that, she'd sweep a webnovel contest.

Love? Sense of justice?

Did I ever have such noble sentiments?

The problem is people actually believe this novel.

Her article spread like wildfire online, and netizens went wild.

I sank deep into the mayor's office chair, staring up at the ceiling.

"Why does everything go like this! Why doesn't anyone even suspect me! Do I look that trustworthy? Do I look that righteous?!"

Nyaaam~

Nero yawned from atop the desk in reply... or rather, just yawned.

This guy's still living the dream.

Stealing fish, napping all day, occasionally stretching out to freak people out—that's his whole routine. Lucky ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cat.

I'm jealous. Truly jealous.

"Nero, wanna switch places? You be mayor. I'll be the cat."

Myaa~

Nero gave me a pitiful look, then flicked his tail and sauntered to the window.

Even he's abandoned me now.

Ding~

Then my laptop chimed with an email notification.

Sender: Moon Hyeji.

"What the?!"

I jolted upright and peered at the screen.

Has she figured out my true colors? Sending a dossier exposing my farce, my ugly nature?

A declaration of war like, Mayor, your hypocrisy ends now?

A threat like, We've got proof you really meant to take those bribes?

Clutching at straws, I clicked the email with trembling fingers.

"......"

I opened the attachment, and dozens of photos poured out.

All of Nero.

A shot of him strolling out of the luxury restaurant with a sea bream in his mouth.

A photo of him calmly grooming amid the chaos.

Even one yawning with the arrested executives in the background.

I slumped back into my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chair, drained.

Corruption exposé my ass. Just cat pics.

Nyaa! Nya nya!

Nero pawed at the screen excitedly.

Hurry and upload this great, cute shot of me to Instagram for my 4 million followers!

Something like that. Cat language is hard.

"Sigh... Fine, fine."

I mechanically opened the app.

"The paw pads in the third photo turned out especially cute."

"Eek!"

A cold voice came from behind.

I leaped from the chair like a startled cat.

Nya~

Meanwhile, Nero just meowed happily.

Who's the cat here?!

"Se-Seria! How long have you been there?! Make some noise when you walk!"

"I just came in. But your bloodcurdling scream made knocking unnecessary."

My ice-cold secretary, Seria Park.

A woman who appears without a sound, like no assassin could.

"So, what mess have you stirred up this time? The corrupt corporate purge was all your meticulous plan, wasn't it? The media's been singing your praises nonstop, yet why do you look like a damned soul from hell?"

Her words hit a nerve.

"It's a misunderstanding! I swear! I just wanted the money! But the world's turning me into a hero! This is wrong!"

"Wrong how?"

Seria asked flatly.

"You've eradicated the city's cancerous tumors. Public support is through the roof. City finances are more transparent, and fines from those firms greenlight next year's budget. I can't fathom what's wrong."

"That's not it! The process! The motive! My purely rotten intentions are being twisted!"

I shot to my feet, ranting in her face.

"I'm trash! A money-grubbing philistine! So why's everyone treating me like a saint?! Does that make sense?!"

Seria narrowed her eyes at my desperate cry.

She scanned me head to toe, then let out a small sigh.

"Yes. I know."

Huh?

"I know exactly how base and pathetic your thinking is, Mayor."

Ooh?

Finally! Someone who gets my true self!

Seria, the wise secretary who sees through all truths!

"Right! You knew! How irredeemable I am!"

I moved to grab her hand in.

"But rotten meat attracts flies. Fifteen filthy maggots latched onto your rotting lump. Hilariously, your toxicity overwhelmed them—they all keeled over from food poisoning."

"What kind of curse is that?!"

"A compliment."

"Where?!"

"Your villainy outdid the villains."

My hand froze mid-air.

"And executing that scheme without a single legal flaw. Your cunning is tongue-prodding impressive."

No.

No no.

"No! It wasn't cunning—it was stupidity! Not scheming, just bad luck!"

"Even disguising your stupidity and misfortune as part of the plan? Impressive. With acting like that, you'd make a fortune as a con artist. Oh wait, you're already a politician—no difference."

"That's my real face, not poker face!"

"Even your wailing seems like smoke for the next op. Chills. How deep is your pit of pretense and hypocrisy?"

No communication.

Our language circuits are fundamentally different.

We speak the same Korean, but interpret it in parallel universes.

I gave up and flopped into my chair.

"Sigh... I'm done for. Everything's over."

Seria watched me a moment.

Her gaze shifted slowly to my desk.

To Nero, rolling around with his tail swishing by the laptop.

"By the way, Mayor."

Seria spoke.

"How long are you going to let that criminal roam free?"

"Criminal? No criminals here! The maritime police took them all!"

"No. Right here."

Her pale, slender finger pointed squarely at Nero.

"Prime suspect in the theft of premium sea bream worth 320,000 won from Aqua Vita Restaurant. Name: Nero. Species: calico cat. Notes: Receives mayor's favoritism, habitually commits all manner of atrocities."

She recited it like a prosecutor stating the indictment, cold and precise.

"What? Theft? It's a cat! So what if it snagged a fish?!"

"Unauthorized consumption of premium ingredients worth 320,000 won. Clear theft. Plus, exploited site chaos to destroy evidence. Heinous crime."

"Not destroying evidence—just swallowed it in one gulp!"

"Bigger issue exists."

Seria stared straight at me.

"Fail to punish this perp properly, and you'll face dereliction of duty and harboring a fugitive charges. 'Icon of Integrity' jails corrupt execs but overlooks his pet cat's crimes? Hypocrite label sticks."

Hypocrite.

The word flashed in my brain.

Yes. Hypocrite!

Citizens want righteous leaders, despise hypocrites.

This is it.

Found it. The beam of light to crater my approval rating.

I sprang up, shouting.

"Yes! You're right, Secretary Seria! I can't bring myself to punish that cute cat! So I'm a hypocrite! Tell the world! Headline: 'Mayor Lee Garam, Powerless Hypocrite Before His Cat!'"

Seria didn't blink at my tirade.

She just shook her head slightly.

"Regrettably, no, Mayor."

"Why!"

"Because I'll handle the execution myself."

With that declaration, she approached the desk and lightly grabbed Nero by the scruff.

Eeng?

Nero let out a bewildered squeak, paws flailing in the air.

"As of now, suspect Nero is under emergency arrest for theft and evidence tampering."

Seria scooped him into her arms.

"Wait! What are you doing?! Put him down now!"

"Suspect Nero arrested for theft. No right to silence or counsel. Because he's a cat."

"What kind of logic is that?!"

Ignoring me completely, Seria hugged Nero to her chest.

"Sentence now executed: '100 strokes of petting'."

Stroke~

She gently scratched under his chin.

Purrrr~

Nero's motorboat rumble filled the room.

Eyes half-closed, he melted into her touch. Pure bliss.

"How's that punishment?! He looks like he owns the world! It's a reward!"

"Strict custodial investigation. High flight risk, likely repeat offender on ingredients. Detaining in my office for 24-hour close surveillance."

Seria turned to me, dead serious.

"Advanced interrogation technique. Extreme comfort crumbles psychological defenses, coaxing out hidden crimes effortlessly."

"Liar! You just want to pet the cat!"

"See? Suspect cooperating fully. Deeply repenting. Already confessed accomplices."

Purrr. Rrrumble. Nerorong~

Nero draped like liquid in her arms, purring even louder.

"That's just 'feels good'! Look, he's melting!"

"Confessing you're the real mastermind, he's just the cat. Betrayal artistry. Fitting your cat—sells out owner flawlessly. Shameless. Reward: Churu treat."

You traitor.

You sneaky furball.

Seria pointed at the paperwork mountain on the desk.

"Now, Mayor. Time to climb the backlog peak? You made the mess; you clean it. Post-op cleanup from your success is all yours."

"Arrrgh!"

Thud.

The door closed.

Alone in the office, I despaired at the paperwork avalanche.