Agency Attendance 2
Someone once said that humanity gives birth to nothing but monstrosities. That the ugly, the repulsive, the horrific — that the agents of every vile deed and every malice imaginable — were human beings themselves.
Yet someone else said this: if humanity has a thousand repulsive faces, it has ten thousand faces of goodness. That the true beginning of human civilization was neither the discovery of fire, nor the wheel, nor the invention of writing — but the trace of a leg bone that had been broken and then healed. That a broken leg mended through someone's help, someone's goodwill, someone's kindness was both the great and the repulsive origin of humankind.
I wholeheartedly agree.
Just because bad things happen around me doesn't mean I need to deny all of human history, or trample the lives of the decent people simply living their days.
A world bent entirely to my hands and my will alone? That wouldn't be human history at all — it wouldn't be a world running properly.
It'd be more boring than a custom game with every cheat enabled and resources maxed out.
Me, worshipped by all, reigning as something beyond the Succubus Empress — the Empress of all things and all nations? Sure, it would be beautiful. Magnificent, even. Impossible not to praise.
But then what?
Let me say it again: I want attention, yet I'm also profoundly introverted — a contradictory, double-sided creature. That was my disposition even back when I was human.
Ruling as an Empress would be beautiful and all, but… I can picture it far too vividly — me, seated on some resplendent golden throne, muttering, 'Ahh, I want chicken. I wanna watch ViewTube. Hehe, Infinity Challenge is so funny…'
And besides… it's not like I can't hold out.
"Then, at approximately 19:15, we will now begin the provisional record hearing and consultation session for Special Management Returnee Ms. Lee Jaehee. Please be advised that all conversation will be recorded and may influence future legal and administrative proceedings."
"Now, we will proceed with questions for Special Management Returnee Ms. Lee Jaehee…."
Repulsive humans they may be, but they were far from idiots. Every so often one of them does something dumb, sure — but these people didn't rise to their positions by being fools.
The slimy, simmering affection and desire the distinguished gentlemen directed at me — well, truthfully, that was something only I could perceive. On the surface, they sat there in their pressed suits, clearing their throats and straightening their cuffs as though their minds hadn't been stolen away at all.
"Ms. Lee Jaehee, first — as a Special Management Returnee, are you faithfully fulfilling your obligation to file outing reports with the Agency?"
"I do my best to comply whenever possible."
"I see."
The stern, bespectacled dignitary was glancing down at the documents in his hand. Using his reflection in the glasses, I read the contents. My stated reasons for outing reports, the contents I'd reported — and the actual hours I'd been out, recorded in detail.
'They've mapped every CCTV around my home and the neighborhood. But given how dense and thorough this is… it's not cameras. Either some new surveillance technology I don't know about, or a surveillance-specialized Awakened has joined their ranks, hm?'
My outing reports, you ask? Setting aside what I report to Manager Dan, I'd say they barely exist at all.
Occasionally, when it crosses my mind, I'll sign the real-time Agency outing report hanging by my front door — like checking in for attendance. But on days when it doesn't occur to me, or when I simply can't be bothered, I just walk out.
It's not as if I go out that often to begin with, but I'd hate being under house arrest even more. So my outing records, destined for the Agency or the desks of the distinguished — I felt zero desire to write them.
"Esteemed Assemblymen, as you can see from the documents, the Special Management Returnee's recorded outing hours and her actual reports do not match."
"Ah, yes, well. They don't, do they."
"But so what if they differ? People go out when they want to go out, and sometimes they forget to file along the way. That's all."
"Well, it's not that there's no discrepancy with what's documented, but…."
And yet, unexpectedly, the distinguished gentlemen didn't seem to care one bit about the outing reports.
Surprising. Honestly, I'd expected them to bang their desks and put on the classic performance of the 'maximum-outrage cosplay politician' — 'You broke your appointment times, your reporting promises! Ms. Jaehee, do we look like water to you?!'
Given the distinguished gentlemen's track record, it wouldn't have been strange for them to use this opportunity to lengthen my leash, or to establish new clauses and mechanisms to bind me tighter.
"Honestly, if a person wants to go outside, how are you going to stop her?"
"Agency Director, what was the original purpose of outing reports for Special Management Returnees in the first place?"
"Ah, I'll answer that. It stems from the case of Tamamo-no-Mae, one of Japan's Special Management Returnees…."
"So in other words — because Special Management Returnees risk causing problems, disasters, accidents, and massacres through social maladjustment, outing reports were formalized on paper as a means of prevention. Isn't that right?"
"That's correct, yes?"
That was the dignitary who had smiled at me earlier and called me pretty as a daughter. But the moment the hearing began, his eyes had turned remarkably sharp. There was even a trace of that genuine charisma — the air of a truly powerful figure.
"So, Ms. Jaehee — since becoming a Special Management Returnee, have there been any instances of you causing a 'problem'?"
"As of the official records since 2030… not yet."
"Hmm. 'Not yet,' you say."
"Then isn't that settled?"
"Besides, 'not yet' makes it sound as though someone who hasn't caused a single accident is being told to watch out because she's going to cause one in the future. If I were her, I'd find that rather unpleasant."
Hm, how fascinating. The distinguished gentlemen are quite openly taking my side.
Of course, the old men's slimy lust and affection hadn't vanished. They'd merely forced it under a veneer of reason.
If I had to express their inner state, it was probably something like: 'Let's do the work first. Still, I'd like things to go well with this woman, Jaehee… think they could? Ahem, the age gap might be a problem…,' and, 'Hoo, she's like a daughter — I do want to look after her, get close to her. Hoo… but it's a bit tricky.'
On one hand, the desire to lose their minds and simply use their power and privilege to claim me. On the other, the cold reason and political instinct and situational awareness of men in high places, warning that any foolish move might only end up tightening the noose around their own necks.
Yes — this is what normal looks like. However swept away a man might be by lust, to reach the point of demolishing everything he's built in a single instant… well, I'd have to actually remove this veil of mine.
In that sense, I'd say my veil is fulfilling its reason for existence quite admirably. Precarious as it may be, it can at least keep people's reason tethered in place.
"Since she has never caused a problem, let us move past the matter of outing reports."
"Yes, understood. Regarding Ms. Lee Jaehee's outings, we will maintain the current arrangements."
"However — overseas travel. When departing the country, you must inform us. Support funding will likely be processed in connection with it…."
I smiled and spoke.
"How fortunate. Had you said anything else, you'd have had to hire a whole new corps of surveillance civil servants to watch me twenty-four hours a day."
In that instant, the air in the consultation room plummeted in temperature. They understood full well I wasn't joking. Documented reports were one thing — but I had no intention of leaving alive anyone assigned to surveil my private life.
Whether they grasped the meaning of my words or not, the distinguished gentlemen nodded stiffly and put on expressions of grudging acceptance.
"…Surveillance civil servants? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean…."
"Oh, really?"
With those words, I lifted my head toward empty air.
Our eyes met. — She flinches, startled.
Hello there? Who might you be? Ah — height, 165 centimeters. Brown hair. Tied up in a ponytail, I see. The business suit peculiar to civil service work. Rather young. Just barely an adult, perhaps?
— Eyes away.
The gaze vanishes. The woman, startled half to death, squeezes her eyes shut and trembles.
Ah, I can see it. I can see. Oh my — black panties.
"Fufufu. If someone is watching me, I'd at least like a proper introduction. Having someone surveil me without so much as exchanging names, without ever meeting face to face… that can be rather unpleasant, you know."
"…Ahem. Mutual goodwill benefits everyone. Going forward, we will trust Ms. Jaehee's conscience and diligence regarding her outings."
"And on the matter of the unauthorized watcher… allow me first to offer our sincere apologies. Directives to monitor the conduct of Special Management Returnees under the National Crisis Management Policy were issued only very recently…."
"That would be none of my business, wouldn't it?"
"Hmm."
"Ahem… our apologies."
"You've apologized, so that's settled."
After that, the hearing and consultation with the distinguished gentlemen continued on, tediously and smoothly.
"We thank you for your assistance during the recent Night Sea incident. Regarding the emergency summons — if you have any grievances, Ms. Jaehee, please voice them."
"What specific grievances did you have in mind?"
"For instance, banning emergency calls during the pre-dawn hours outright, or blocking emergency calls entirely on certain days of the week…."
I stole a glance at Manager Dan. Truthfully, during the Night Sea phenomenon, he should have handled things with his own capabilities rather than calling on me. It probably wouldn't have been beyond him. The casualty count would simply have risen a little.
But instead, the ugly old sheep had been popped with not a single casualty, hadn't he? And the life force of the burst sheep became my daily bread.
Nothing bad about it at all. Above all, there was Dan's summons timing to consider.
"It's fine."
"Is that so. We're grateful for your consideration, Ms. Jaehee. Then, next question…."
The distinguished gentlemen asked, and I answered. How was daily life. Were the support funds adequate. What did I do during outside activities.
Nothing more than that. Manager Dan, beside me, was wholly occupied with nervously refilling coffee cups, and beyond the simmering lust I'd sensed at first meeting, the distinguished gentlemen seemed to make no demands for my love worth noting.
Then came an unusual question.
"How do you spend your leisure time? Do you perhaps need a new computer or camera?"
"…A computer and a camera?"
At the dignitaries' tone — one suggesting they'd happily provide such things — my head tilted of its own accord.
"…In truth, the other questions were mere procedural matters. The central question of today's hearing is precisely this."
With that, the bespectacled dignitary activated the projector.
And there I was — playing the violin at Konkuk University Station before a sea of people. The enraptured faces, the entranced faces — people captivated not by a succubus's simple charm, but comprehensively bewitched by the sight of me performing and the melody itself.
"To speak frankly… we convened an emergency session in the Director's office and the surveillance bureau the moment the footage surfaced."
"What was the meeting about?"
"The possibility that Special Management Returnee Lee Jaehee might create 'followers.'"
Followers, here, did not mean becoming a mere fan or a public figure.
A succubus's slave. Body and soul. Mind and heart. Blood and flesh. An eternally, utterly subservient slave and servant — one capable of dedicating all of it to the succubus.
A succubus can create these followers through her own body, appearance, charm, and allure — but an ordinary succubus manages perhaps three at most, while someone of Succubus Queen caliber can supposedly create around a hundred.
And me? Honestly, I don't know. I've never sensed any limit to creating them at all… so if I wished, couldn't I make as many as I pleased?
"As you're aware, Ms. Jaehee — you do know about that… Hungarian incubus incident, yes?"
"Ah, yes. That cheeky, insolent little brat who turned high-ranking female Awakened into his followers and ran a campaign of terror, correct?"
Child of the Sun and Gold, was it? What a laughable epithet. I'd also heard he was an incubus king out of Japan. But looking at the photograph, he really was a tanned little blond runt. Handsome, I suppose. Still, my tastes ran far closer to Uncle Michelson than to some whelp like that.
"Yes, yes. What the international Hunter Association and the governments fear most is that you, Ms. Jaehee, might create followers and unleash a catastrophe. But frankly, our Agency simply doesn't believe you would do such a thing."
"Oh my, how unexpected? I rather thought you'd be frothing at the mouths, demanding I live wearing Awakened-exclusive restraints, or ordering me locked away in the Cheongsong Awakened-Exclusive Prison."
"…We are not fools enough for that."
Well, fair enough. Fool or not, the current distinguished gentlemen had been rebuilt atop the ruins of the previous government.
Of course, there are fools like that, and there are those whose hearts have been sold to lust and allure — but at least the dignitaries and old men in this room, 'for now,' had not let their reason fall behind their desire.
"In any case, Ms. Jaehee — despite having every opportunity to create followers, you have not done so. And analyzing your daily life and outing patterns, as for why you played that violin…."
"Ah, it's a cursed bow and an Ego Violin, you see. It screams into my head, day in and day out, about how it wants to make others listen to its playing several times a day."
"…Is that all right? I'm no Awakened myself, but I've heard cursed instruments are truly dangerous…."
"If something like that could consume my mind, I hardly would have become a Special Management Returnee, now would I?"
"Ahem, well, that's a relief. Director — next slide, please."
And the dignitary clicked the projector over to the next screen.
A blurry image. The video quality was abysmal, the audio worse — and yet the star of that video was me. The violin arrangement of the Canon variations I'd performed just days ago, on an internet stream, for an audience of exactly one.
"That's mine, isn't it?"
"Yes. You may not be aware, Ms. Jaehee, but this footage — no, precisely speaking, your performance — drove a great many people into states of mental derangement."
"I'm sorry — what?"
I was bewildered. I knew my performances were beautiful, so I'd suppressed my allure completely…?
"Ah, that part wasn't your succubine charm at work. Rather, like people stricken with lovesickness, they kept replaying the sight of you performing and the sound of the violin over and over in their heads, until — purely — it became an affliction of the heart. The best way to put it is that they fell in love, and it made them sick."
That was Manager Dan, who had been pouring coffee at my side.
So — people had fallen purely, simply in love, with no connection whatsoever to my being the Succubus Empress?
Ah, as expected of beautiful me. So cool. So pretty. So beautiful.
Whatever makes me so irrepressibly lovely, even stripped of the title of Empress of the Night Demons? Fufu.
"Ahem. In any case, the twelve participants of this hearing — including the Director of our Returnee Management Center — have concluded as follows: remediate the mental derangement of those who heard the performance, classify recordings of your playing as low-grade memetic media approved for distribution, and henceforth, should Ms. Lee Jaehee so desire, support ongoing public musical activities…."
"Um, a sudden question, if I may."
"Ah, yes. Please, go ahead."
"That video — the moment I confirmed my viewer count was exactly one, I locked the stream so no one else could enter, finished the performance, and ended the broadcast…."
"……."
At those words, a new silence descended upon the room. Where before it had been filled with air cold enough to flay flesh, this time it seemed filled with something hot — an air in which embarrassment and shame flickered strangely.
"Could it be… is one of you here my single viewer?"
"……."
The hearing room maintained its silence for roughly three minutes, no one uttering a word.
"Ufufu. So the people gathered here are fans who want to hear me play more — see me more?"
"……."
The silence held for two minutes more.
"Look, it's just… the violin thing… you're pretty damn good at it…."
"We'll get you a nice cam too, and push your stream for you. So couldn't you play a little more?"
"…Ms. Jaehee, you're not busy, are you? Day to day? Right?"
Only then did Jaehee grasp the meaning of the vast, staggering lust, affection, and goodwill these old men had been directing at her from the very first meeting. In an astoundingly short span of time, she had become, to these men, a kind of idol.
'No wonder they all seem to be the so-called — cultured — type. No surprise they'd be into classical music.'