Imperial Voice
Armored vehicles appeared in the middle of downtown Ilsan after crossing the Han River.
Kkigigigigigigigigik—!!
With a grinding screech of treads that seemed ready to tear eardrums apart, the armored vehicles came to a halt, completely surrounding the front yard of Ilsan IBS Second Broadcasting Station and the roads around it.
The station security guards on night duty went dead pale at the sight, then scattered in a panic.
“All units, disembark!”
“Establish a perimeter around the building! Don’t let even an ant through!”
Captain Gwak, his face flushed bright red, roared as he jumped down from the armored vehicle.
What’s got him so worked up?
The Marines moved with crisp precision, seizing the station’s front entrance in an instant. Barricades went up, and the machine guns mounted on the armored vehicles were trained on both directions of the road.
“Your Majesty! We’ve secured the approach!”
Captain Gwak yelled, breathless, pounding on the window of my car.
I nodded with a stern expression, opened the door, and stepped out.
“Secretary Seo. Let’s go.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
My security detail closed around me like a steel wall on both sides.
The broadcasting station lobby had already exploded into chaos.
What had probably been a war zone to begin with, what with everyone scrambling every time news of the coup came in, had now frozen over as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped across it by the sudden intrusion of armed soldiers.
A voice rang out from someone who looked to be in charge.
“W-who are you people? This is the Imperial Broadcasting Station! Soldiers can’t just come in here however they please!”
Very brave. Maybe he thought we were the rebels.
Seo Yu-jin walked forward with measured, clicking footsteps.
“We have come from the Imperial Household.”
The imperial employee ID was held up, followed by the customary confirmation ritual through the imperial seal in my hand: yes, this is happening.
Maybe because of the ominous air around the Marines, the whole process moved faster than before.
“Immediately summon the head of the news division and the station’s chief executive. Every second counts.”
“Y-yes, understood! I’ll take care of it at once!”
He nearly flattened himself to the floor with a ninety-degree bow, then started barking into the radio like a man possessed.
The station staff were absurdly, almost offensively polite.
Maybe that was because this was the Imperial Broadcast network, and the presumed-dead heir to the imperial family had shown up in person with an army in tow, but still.
Someone had already called an elevator from farther down the hall, and as I stood there blankly waiting, the staff members who’d followed to receive instructions kept their heads down and stepped back a pace.
Damn it.
I didn’t even want to think about it anymore. It was probably something like, How could we possibly ride the same elevator as the chairman—no, the Emperor? The world-building in this place really had no sense of warmth.
“Forget it. We’re going together. Marines, all of you get on.”
As the elevator carried us up to the floor where the news studio was located, the employees who rode with us plastered themselves against the walls with their heads bowed.
“We’ve arrived. This is VIP Waiting Room No. 1.”
The news director in front opened the door carefully.
The first thing I saw when I stepped inside was a set of robes hanging in the middle of the room, red, black, and gold.
“...What is that?”
“It is the formal ceremonial robe of the Emperor of the Republic of Korea. You must change immediately.”
Seo Yu-jin closed the door behind us as she spoke.
“Why does a broadcasting station even have emperor’s robes?”
Seo Yu-jin examined the fabric with meticulous care before answering.
“At IBS, we keep a top-grade imperial robe on hand at all times in case of emergency for various imperial reenactment broadcasts and official events.
“It was made and delivered by the same royal tailoring workshop that produces the imperial household’s garments, but... given the circumstances, it was not tailored to Your Majesty’s measurements, so please forgive us in advance if Your Majesty’s body is slightly burdened.”
“Fine. Like anyone’s going to complain about that.”
I stripped off my shabby clothes.
Honestly, going live on air dressed like this would’ve been a total disaster. And in a situation like this, there was no room to be shy about changing in front of other people anyway.
...Are these buttons just for decoration? Why won’t they fasten?
“Allow me.”
Seo Yu-jin stepped right up beneath my chin and fastened the hooks at the front of the robe.
“Secretary Seo. How are the speech preparations coming?”
When I asked, Seo Yu-jin answered at once.
“Fortunately, IBS is an institution under the imperial broadcasting network, so there is always a Ye-mun-gwan assistant editor stationed here. I have ordered him to draft a national address immediately.”
“...Ye-mun-gwan what?”
I stared at her in disbelief.
“A Ye-mun-gwan assistant editor. He is one of the officials responsible for drafting imperial decrees, edicts, and all manner of public statements.”
What, the imperial secretariat isn’t the old royal chancery or whatever, just a modern office system? Then why is the department handling paperwork still dressed up in full Joseon aesthetics as the Ye-mun-gwan?
Was the title assistant secretary somehow too modern, so assistant editor sounded more refined?
Anyway, this world’s makjang setting really was something else.
While I was mentally chewing the writer to pieces, the door to the waiting room outside the studio opened.
“Your Majesty! I am Choe Sang-hyeon, assistant editor of the Ye-mun-gwan, and I come before the Sacred Presence!”
An old man flung himself flat on the floor as he spoke.
I’d lived in a Confucian republic, at least, so seeing someone old enough to be my grandfather hit the floor in a full prostration made me unable to just leave him there.
More importantly, we didn’t have time for this.
“Get up. The speech.”
“I-it is here! Upon receiving word that Your Majesty had given the word, I drafted it in haste, pouring all my grief into it!”
His trembling hands held out a tablet.
So the Ye-mun-gwan assistant editor uses tablets too, huh. He looked pretty old, but still.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and looked down at the speech.
By imperial decree of the Emperor, who receives the Mandate of Heaven and prospers under its protection:
Alas, alas.
Heaven’s Way has been thrown into disorder; a band of traitors has risen in rebellion and invaded the imperial palace, bringing ruin so monstrous that the bloodline of the imperial house, including the late Emperor, has been cruelly cut down.
Thus do I, with a heart torn in two, inherit the great cause in obedience to Heaven’s will. Let the soldiers and people of this land hear me.
You have long received the grace of our ancestors; you must now remember the duty between ruler and subject, between sovereign and father, and rise in righteous resolve. Let all loyal subjects rally at once with filial devotion and loyalty, slaughter the villainous mob, and lend your strength to restoring the ancestral shrine and state altar...
“...”
I smiled bitterly and switched off the screen.
Then I set the tablet down quietly on the desk.
“Secretary Seo.”
“Yes.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, I tore the printed speech from the Ye-mun-gwan official’s hands as well.
Rip—!
“Y-your Majesty! The decree...”
Ignoring the horrified old scholar, I pushed open the studio’s soundproof door and spoke to Seo Yu-jin as I entered.
“We don’t need any of this. Let’s do it my way.”
Seo Yu-jin let out a small sigh and asked the people outside,
“Is the studio set up?”
“Yes! We can go live immediately!” the news director shouted urgently from outside the door.
“Then let’s go.”
I headed for the studio without hesitation.
* * *
The camera lenses turned toward me all at once.
Blinding lights crashed down from above.
Cold sweat trickled down my back.
Just this morning I was a farmer on Ganghwado, and now I’m doing a live national address?
Of course I’d be nervous. It’d be weird if I wasn’t.
My heart pounded so hard it felt like it was about to burst through my ribs.
But if I panicked, Seo Yu-jin, who was protecting me, and Gwak Ji-hun, who was out there risking his life on guard duty, would all die.
The PD in the control booth grasped the microphone with trembling fingers.
Network-wide transmission ready. Stand by! Ten seconds.
9, 8, 7...
I took a deep breath.
I’m not an extra right now. At least for this moment, I’m the main character in this country.
Let’s blow the whole thing up.
3, 2, 1. Cue!
The red light on the On Air lamp came on.
I stared straight into the camera lens and opened my mouth in the calmest, steadiest voice I could manage.
* * *
“Hello. This is Lee Jin, Emperor of the Republic of Korea.”
What came out of Lee Jin’s mouth was plain, everyday language.
“As a member of the imperial clan, and as the sole heir of the imperial family following the terror attack at Deoksugung, I hereby proclaim before the people that, in accordance with the Constitution of the Republic of Korea, I have this moment succeeded to the throne.”
“The name Lee Jin may be unfamiliar to you, and I myself never once imagined that such a heavy responsibility would be placed on my shoulders.
“But now, with an unprecedented rebellion threatening the nation itself, I refuse to avoid the duty left to me.”
For an imperial voice broadcast, the tone was almost offensively ordinary.
The news director and the other staff members monitoring the feed outside the booth looked visibly thrown.
“Citizens of the Republic of Korea, let me briefly explain the situation we face.”
But Lee Jin went on without a care.
“At around 2:00 p.m. today, an explosion at Deoksugung killed the late Emperor, the Crown Prince, and every direct member of the imperial family.”
“I offer my deepest condolences to all those who lost their lives in this horrific tragedy.”
Lee Jin bowed his head in a brief moment of silence.
It was only five seconds or so, but the studio fell so quiet you couldn’t even hear anyone swallow.
Then, when Lee Jin lifted his head again, his gaze had settled into something far calmer than before.
“At the same time, some military units have illegally abandoned their posts and are now occupying key facilities in Seoul by force. The rebel forces led by Song Hak-su and others are calling this a revolution and misleading the public.”
Lee Jin paused for a moment to catch his breath.
“But this is unmistakably civil war, and it is treason against the constitutional order.
“A real soldier does not aim a gun at the people.
“They are nothing more than rebels blinded by power, men who have annihilated the imperial family.”
And then, right there, Lee Jin tapped lightly against his own chest and said,
“However, the Imperial House remains here.”
The air in the studio tightened.
“As commander-in-chief, I will devote all available force to suppressing this crisis immediately. We will never compromise with the rebels, and we will not retreat a single step!
“All they can win at the end of this betrayal is a stain on history, and all they will ultimately grasp is the noose of the gallows!”
And then the imperial command fell from Lee Jin’s lips.
“Effective immediately, I hereby declare a state of national emergency throughout the country and issue my first imperial decree as Emperor.
“All forces are to move under the Emperor’s command, with the suppression of the rebels as their highest priority.”
“All members of the armed forces are to immediately disengage from rebel command and return to their original units.
“Rebel soldiers are to refuse unlawful orders to open fire from their superiors.
“Anyone who sides with Song Hak-su and the rebel forces will be treated as a traitor, but no one who lays down their weapon and defects at this very moment will be held accountable.”
Lee Jin’s words, which had been aimed at the military, now turned back to the people.
“This filthy bloodstorm must end tonight.
“Citizens, do not be shaken. I will not flee. I will stand here and see this crisis through.
“I will prove for myself exactly what the office of emperor is meant to do.”
The broadcast ended.
The red light in the studio went dark.
And silence settled over the broadcasting station.
The city noises that would normally drift in from outside had vanished as well.
For this moment, the whole city seemed to have sunk under a heavy, total hush.
* * *
Seoul, ROK Capital Defense Command.
[...This is Lee Jin, Emperor of the Republic of Korea.]
The instant the broadcast aired, the coup command center exploded into chaos like a kicked hornet’s nest.
“Emperor? Did he say emperor? Just now?”
“Where the hell did this royal relative come from?”
“That’s impossible. We wiped out the entire imperial family today. And now some surviving relative is broadcasting live?”
“Bomb the Ilsan station right now! Cut the broadcast!”
Then, in the middle of all that uproar, the revolutionary commander Song Hak-su slowly raised a hand.
He set down his teacup with the calm of an old tiger.
“Quiet.”
At Song Hak-su’s single word, the command room fell silent as a grave.
“Marshal, that’s fake. We already finished dealing with the imperial relatives who attended the coronation ceremony.”
“That figures. Seo Yu-jin disappeared with the imperial seal.”
The chief of staff tried to explain in a panic, but Song Hak-su only smiled bitterly.
“First the Empress, and now even some secretary woman is trying to seize the Imperial House and shake it around.”
Just how far did they intend to mock this country?
Song Hak-su stared out the window at the distant night view of Seoul.
“The people follow whatever flag is right in front of them. Today we declared that we would cut out the Imperial House’s corruption. But if another emperor suddenly appears and starts waving a flag, the people will hesitate over whom to follow.”
“Then, immediately—!”
“The very fact that they hesitate is poison to us.”
Song Hak-su waved a hand dismissively.
“Push them down politely.”