Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: The Emperor and the Boy (2)
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During my shifts at the convenience store, whenever things got slow, I'd kill time by reading web novels.
I'd loved books since I was a kid, and they made the hours fly by anyway.
And in those novels, there was this tired old cliché they milked to death: the holy trinity of regression, possession, and reincarnation.
But not only did it actually happen to me—it became my story.
So now, all that was left was to use future knowledge like the protagonists in those stories and live a flashy, happy life, right?
"What is your name?"
"Choi Han... No, Hansu Choi."
Somehow, it felt like I'd gotten off on the wrong foot from the very start.
Of all people, I ended up tangled with Wilhelm II.
The eight-fingered Kaiser who led the German Empire to ruin.
It was like pulling a rainbow in a mobile gacha game, thinking you'd hit an SSR based on the flashy art—only to get a total dud with crap performance.
That damn old man!
From the circumstances, the one who must have sent me back to the past German Empire was probably that old German guy I met at the convenience store.
I didn't know if he was some Alpine mountain spirit or a Rhine River ghost, but I should've realized something was off when he started rambling about that bygone era of the German Empire.
Was he seriously telling me to prevent the fall of the German Empire?
If so, he could've at least reincarnated me as a white guy—or better yet, possessed me into the body of the mustachioed Kaiser right in front of me.
But no.
Not only was I still Korean, I'd turned into a kid who looked like some pint-sized grim reaper detective from a mystery novel.
Forget what it meant to be a yellow-skinned person in imperial-era Europe—what the hell was I supposed to do in a child's body?
And from a quick glance at the calendar in that hospital room earlier, it was the dawn of the 20th century: 1901.
No hope.
There were only 13 years left until World War I broke out.
At this rate, I'd barely become an adult before getting dragged into the war that ended everything.
"Hans Choi? That's an unusual name."
I was seriously pondering stowing away to America when Wilhelm II spoke up.
He must have misheard my name, Choi Hansu, as the Western-friendly Hans Choi.
Damn. Hans? Really? Hans of all things.
It just sounded like a name that would brew terrible coffee. Not exactly music to my ears.
But Wilhelm II, oblivious to my discomfort, nodded and continued.
"From Japan? Or China?"
"...Korea."
Two phrases that Koreans abroad hated most in my past life popped out.
I nearly let a curse slip, but there was nothing for it.
To Westerners of this era, the only well-known East Asian countries were Japan or China.
Korea was a nobody compared to them—known at best as some obscure little Eastern kingdom to those in the know.
"Korea? Ah, Corea."
At the word "Korean," the Kaiser's rigid face softened just a bit.
Come to think of it, in real history, Wilhelm II was the only great power leader who treated Emperor Gojong as an actual emperor, showing some favor toward the Korean Empire.
Of course, it wasn't because he was pro-Korea. He just hated Japan.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend, plain and simple.
Plus, considering the timeline, the Boxer Rebellion had just wrapped up not long ago.
This mustachioed Kaiser in front of me was the one who'd lost it over the murder of the German envoy and openly ordered his troops to ravage and destroy China without mercy.
Naturally, his feelings toward China—the Qing Dynasty—weren't going to be rosy.
Huh? Is this actually working in my favor?
Too soon to tell.
I felt a strange affinity since he hated Japan and China, but whether that benefited me remained to be seen.
"Heinrich visited there a couple of years ago. Right, Corea..."
Wilhelm II closed his eyes, lost in thought.
Then he opened them again, having made up his mind, and looked at me.
"The reward for saving the Emperor's life is never light."
Oh. I still had no idea what he meant by saving his life, but it looked like he was going to hand over some kind of bounty.
Perfect chance. Take the money and head to America.
Use future knowledge to start a business.
The fall of the German Empire?
Not my problem.
I didn't have a hobby of boarding sinking ships on purpose.
"So I've decided to bring you to the palace."
"Pardon?"
To the palace?
Who? Me?!
"Hans Choi. You will receive Europe's finest education alongside the Empire's noble blue bloods. And in the future, you'll become a pillar that upholds the Empire. Anything less wouldn't be a fitting reward for saving my life, would it?"
"Your Majesty, I..."
"If it's a matter of race, don't worry. I'll personally be your patron. No one in the Empire will dare scorn you as a lowly yellow man."
Forget all that—just give me cash!
We're doomed.
Completely doomed.
My grand new start in America going down the drain?
That was nothing.
If things turned out like this, I'd be tied at the hip to the German Empire and Kaiser Wilhelm II.
The moment the Empire fell and the Kaiser crumbled, my life would go down with it!
"Be grateful. This isn't an opportunity given to just anyone. Hahaha!"
I wanted to punch him.
I wanted to smash my fist into that smug mustachioed emperor's face, who had no clue how I felt.
Hold it together, Hansu. Do that, and you're really done for.
Whew. Fine. If it's come to this, think positive.
For some reason, Wilhelm II seemed to have taken a liking to me right now.
And the current German Empire was a typical absolute monarchy masquerading as a constitutional one.
So why not use this chance to earn the Emperor's trust—and leverage it to somehow win World War I for the German Empire?
That way, the Kaiser lives, and so do I.
After that?
Thinking that far makes my head explode.
I'll leave it to future me.
Sorry, future self!
March 8, 1901.
New Palace, Potsdam, German Empire.
"Is His Majesty still not here?"
"He'll arrive shortly."
"Haah, what in the world is this disaster?"
Augusta Empress, out to greet the Emperor with the imperial family, clutched her head and sighed.
An assassination.
Targeted not at anyone else, but the Kaiser of the German Empire—her beloved husband.
"Your Majesty, please set aside your worries."
"Chancellor von Bülow."
"The assassin was captured, and His Majesty is unharmed, isn't he?"
Germany's fourth chancellor, Bernhard von Bülow—who had rushed from Berlin that morning upon hearing the Emperor was returning—tried to reassure the anxious Empress.
But inwardly, Bülow was burning up too.
"I become chancellor, and just a few months in, this mess explodes!"
He already had a headache from the treaty negotiations dragging on after the war with China, and now these anarchists had to pull off a massive stunt just when he'd forgotten about them.
The Reichstag was in chaos, and the military was clamoring to crush all the reds while they were at it.
They needed Wilhelm II back even one minute sooner to calm this madness, but the Kaiser had delayed his return to the palace by two whole days before finally heading to Potsdam.
Whew, what on earth is His Majesty thinking?
"By the way, Chancellor."
"Yes, Crown Prince."
"I heard a rumor that the one who saved Father from the assassin's bullet was some Eastern boy. Is that true?"
Bülow's eyes flickered at the question from the Kaiser's eldest son, Crown Prince Wilhelm.
He'd tried to keep it under wraps, but word had already leaked somewhere.
True to his background as a former diplomat, Bülow quickly composed himself and replied in a low voice only the Crown Prince could hear.
"It's true."
"I thought so."
The Crown Prince nodded.
"But why hide it like this? Is there a reason?"
It's not something you can hide forever anyway.
Bülow sighed inwardly at the young Crown Prince's puzzlement and spoke.
"You know well how His Majesty feels about... those yellow races."
"Ah."
Only then did the Crown Prince understand Bülow's cautious reaction.
He knew all too well about his father's "peculiar" disdain for yellow races.
Bülow, who understood the Kaiser's temperament, probably just wanted to avoid the press running wild and needlessly irking him.
Did he delay the return for this reason too?
His pride must have been wounded by the fact that a yellow man saved him.
If it was the father the Crown Prince knew, it was entirely plausible.
"His Majesty has returned!"
As the footman's voice rang out, everyone snapped to attention in unison.
Moments later, the Emperor's ornate carriage rolled into the palace grounds.
"Mother, is Father back?"
"Whew, yes. Finally."
Augusta Empress stroked the head of her youngest daughter, Princess Viktoria Luise, who had asked innocently.
The carriage came to a stop, and Wilhelm II descended with the footmen's assistance.
"Your Majesty."
"Chancellor."
Bülow bowed deeply in greeting, and Wilhelm II welcomed him warmly.
"I'm truly relieved to see you're safe."
"The Lord in heaven aided me. Ah, Sissy!"
"Father!"
Wilhelm II broke into a beaming smile and swept up his rushing youngest daughter in a tight hug.
Even he was a hopeless doting father.
"Your Majesty."
"Father."
"Dona. Wilhelm."
"Do you know how much worry you caused me and the children?"
"I'm sorry. I caused you trouble."
"If you knew that, you should've come back sooner."
Augusta Empress scolded her husband with a face full of concern.
"There's a reason for that."
"Pardon?"
"Perfect timing. Eitel! Adalbert! August! Oskar! Joachim!"
Wilhelm II called out to his other sons, who had been standing awkwardly behind.
"You come here too."
The princes tilted their heads but approached their father.
With the whole family gathered, Wilhelm II tapped on the carriage.
Creeeak—
The door opened, and an unfamiliar boy stepped out.
Black hair, black eyes.
An Easterner?
The entire imperial family stared at Wilhelm II in confusion.
Bülow, who apparently knew nothing about this, looked utterly bewildered.
"Hans."
Wilhelm II lightly patted the boy's back, as if telling him to greet the family.
"I'm Hans Choi."
The boy, who had been staring stiffly at the Kaiser's family, bowed awkwardly—clearly not yet versed in etiquette.
"It's an honor to meet you."