Agency Appearance 3
The story rewinds itself by roughly forty-eight hours.
An ordinary, perpetually single hunter living alone had happened to be the sole viewer of a livestream featuring Jaehee playing the violin — and the performance had so thoroughly stolen his heart that he'd been left half out of his senses.
And as luck would have it, the man was scheduled to join his guild's raid party some four hours later. But once you've come down with lovesickness courtesy of the Succubus Empress, how exactly are you supposed to show up for work?
And so he had no choice but to declare his absence from the raid — at which point his father, a stern career politician, immediately summoned his son by phone.
“I knew it the moment you said you were going to become some hunter or other! How long are you going to keep running away from everything?!”
“Running away? Running away from what…?”
“A day-laborer mercenary scraping by meal to meal — that's what you call a hunter, is it? I thought at least you were earning your keep, and now you're telling me you skipped the raid I pulled strings to get you into? If that's your attitude, quit right now and go work in a factory!”
“???”
“Tsk tsk. No woman, no friends — I knew this would happen. You did a few hunter jobs, decided it was too hard and dangerous, and gave up without even showing your face, didn't you? Pack your things and come back to the family home! I'll speak to the guild myself, so…!”
“No, wait, that's not….”
From the son's perspective, of course, it was simply absurd. He and his father had never been close, and he'd assumed he'd grown used to this kind of naked contempt and verbal abuse. He hadn't. My income is higher than yours, Father.
Granted, a great deal of his money went to equipment and potions, but even accounting for that, it was more than enough to live on comfortably by himself.
And in truth, the guild hadn't even said anything all that harsh.
“Assemblyman, Jinwoo didn't attend today's raid. Is everything all right, by any chance?”
“He's usually so reliable, and suddenly we can't reach him at all. We're worried….”
A normally diligent hunter with decent skills had suddenly gone absent, so from the guild's standpoint the call had been a concerned check-in — was he perhaps ill? But the clogged ears of the elderly had latched onto something else entirely: not that his son was ordinarily dependable, but that he had skipped work 'without any proper excuse,' and there all their attention stayed.
Well. Parents worry about their children doing dangerous hunter work, and wish they'd just sit in a safe office somewhere and live a stable life. But how many parents ever say that honestly to their children?
This father was no different. Every day he couldn't bring himself to show it, so he just nagged and picked, while inwardly grumbling — I worry about him this much and that ungrateful brat doesn't even appreciate it — the picture-perfect image of a common father, getting drunk and whining to his wife or his friends.
“Haah. It's not like that. I was just resting, and my heart's been a little off. You don't need to worry about it, Father.”
“Your heart's off? Are you seeing a woman?”
“N-no, I told you it's not that!”
Yet in the strangest places, the father could read his son. The heart that had drifted somewhere else. Which, in cases like this, usually meant one thing: a woman he hadn't told his parents about.
It was only natural that a father who'd been radiating old-fogey energy moments before would suddenly fixate on his son's new girlfriend(?).
“Who is she? What kind of woman? I won't get angry, so tell me.”
“Ugh….”
The voice that had been thundering seconds ago sank at once into warmth and gentleness — it was ridiculous, really, but to the son this had long since become a familiar sight. Ah, here we go again.
The son protested it wasn't a woman, not what his father was imagining. But his heart had grown hot and achy, as if stricken with lovesickness — that much was true — so in the end he had no choice but to answer his father's interrogation.
“What's this?”
“You can see for yourself….”
And so what they watched was a certain video.
A cheap camera, poor picture quality. Sound recorded through a low-grade microphone. And at its center, a woman in a black suit, playing.
The father thought: Hm. Where have I seen her before…?
The half-formed thought was soon washed away by the melody flowing out. An intoxicating, rapturous performance carried on, and the father understood his son's heart.
Yes. Anyone who watched something like this would feel their chest tighten and ache. As if struck with lovesickness. As if their soul were melting away.
Even after the music ended, father and son sat in silence for a long while, unable to shake off the aftereffects.
“…I'm sorry for yelling. I think I understand now.”
“It's fine. Honestly, unless you've seen it yourself, it just looks like I skipped the raid without an excuse.”
Having offered his son that earnest apology, the father — still unable to tear himself from the woman's violin and her bewitching melody — suddenly remembered something.
“Ah. That person….”
“Father, do you know who she is? You have connections everywhere!”
Only then did the father recall who the woman in the video was. How much on-the-ground business could the high and mighty possibly handle? And above all, a politician tasked with the weighty burden of a Special Management Returnee — someone best never spoken of, best forgotten — could hardly be expected to remember her at all times.
In fact, this father had received regular memory-wipe injections, deliberately forgetting everything he wasn't supposed to know.
And yet she was the one being whom no injection, no brain-scrubbing, could ever fully erase from his mind. The Succubus Empress, Lee Jaehee.
“…This wretched woman… she plays the violin marvelously well, doesn't she.”
And so, through the hands of a certain politician who had stumbled upon Jaehee's violin performance thanks to his son, the proposal emerged from within the government apparatus itself: the agencies should actively promote her broadcasting. That politician — one of the high and mighty — was none other than the 2nd Vice Minister of the Returnee Management Agency, and one of the presiding officials of this very hearing.
“W-well, I watched the clip the Vice Minister showed us… the performance was remarkable. Almost too good to keep to ourselves alone….”
“Ahem. Now, this Lee Jaehee young lady… she's unemployed, isn't she?”
“Oh dear me. Who says 'unemployed' about a young person these days? We call it 'searching for her dream,' surely.”
“….”
Ahahaha.
Jaehee gave no answer, but at this scene she couldn't help bursting into laughter on the inside. In the flesh, she had to be as careful as possible about actually laughing — the sound alone was enough to bewitch people.
And if the ones listening were frail old men who'd just become 'middle-aged fangirls' over a single violin video, the caution needed doubled. If anyone dropped dead of a heart attack from one little laugh, that would be inconvenient for Jaehee too.
“Hh, hhh… hhmhmhm….”
Ah, I can't hold it in.
Jaehee desperately clamped a hand over her mouth, struggling to suppress the sound.
Officer Dan, worried that even a sliver of Jaehee's allure-laden laughter might leak out and scramble the brains of the high and mighty, quietly unfolded a transparent mental barrier.
“May I ask one question?”
“Ah, yes, yes! Ask whatever you like.”
“Funneling government budget into the personal comforts of an individual returnee is entertaining enough as it is — but you're saying you'll buy me my streaming equipment, my recorder, my camera, my computer… all of it? Is that really feasible?”
“Well, you see….”
“You do manage me as a Special Management Returnee, granted… but the very purpose of that law and the agency's founding is, if I recall, 'supporting returnees' reintegration into society and independence.' On paper, there's nothing you can't fund.”
“Ah-ha. I see.”
“In exchange….”
In exchange?
“How about you keep performing? Steadily, I mean.”
“I heard your performance just once and it took me right back to my younger days.”
“It reminded me of when this land was still at peace… and besides, music these days is contaminated by memes and mental pollution — it's hardly easy to hear proper classical repertoire anymore, is it?”
“We'd like to hear your performances ourselves, and judging by the sentiment on the Hunter Channel — that awakeners-only community — it seems plenty of others want to hear more as well.”
“Ahem. So you see, this isn't for our personal benefit. This support package covers your full social independence as a Special Management Returnee, and beyond that, the stabilization of the public's mental state. If this sets a good precedent for a Special Management Returnee, wouldn't that bode well for the future as well?”
The affection, curiosity, and lust that had once been repulsive now did nothing but amuse her. With all these people gazing at her with shining eyes — as if she were a top-tier trot singer, a national hero, a champion ssireum wrestler, the darling of the elderly and an idol rolled into one — Jaehee finally shed her disgust and simply found the whole situation entertaining.
Come to think of it, hadn't there once been a president who was such a fan of a handsome actor that he neglected his duties, watched every one of the man's dramas and films, and even invited him to the Blue House?
Well, this case hadn't quite reached those heights….
Though there is also the small matter of our little troublemaker screaming for a performance every single day.
The Ego Violin was children. Not one, but 187 souls dwelling within it, and those children wanted to be played every day.
And not quietly in some back room, either — they wanted their music heard by others.
Honestly, if they just whined like this, there was nothing in it for Jaehee. Worst case, she could smash the Ego Violin to pieces, Ego and all. Or failing that, seal it away and be done with it. Officer Dan, for one, was more than capable of warping the protective formulas and wards into a functioning sealing array on the spot.
But the Ego Violin is actually rather useful to me, you see.
The truth was that Jaehee suffered from a chronic deficiency of spiritual energy — of life force itself.
As the Succubus Empress, merely breathing required an intake of vitality and spiritual energy on a scale utterly beyond what a single human life or two could provide. And so Jaehee periodically went hunting in dungeons, after monsters.
Not, however, to harvest monster byproducts or mana stones the way hunters did — but to absorb the life force the monsters carried within them.
The process was enormously inefficient and cumbersome, but if she instead bewitched humans and drained them, people had a nasty habit of dying.
But performing on the Ego Violin created threads — connections to an unspecified multitude. Take 100 units of life from one person and that person dies; take 0.1 from tens of thousands, and no one dies, no one's daily life suffers in the slightest.
And yet the vitality and spiritual energy flowing into Jaehee multiplied exponentially. Spiritual energy was the very foundation and lifeblood of a succubus — so lately, Jaehee had been thinking, bit by bit: Huh. Maybe I should play the violin more often?
And right at that moment, the high and mighty had come walking in of their own accord, eyes sparkling. Ah — is this happening because I'm simply so beautiful?
“Of course, if Miss Jaehee truly refuses, there's little we can do.”
“An opportunity like this doesn't come along every day, you know? The agency can handle the equipment purchases and all the broadcasting procedures on your behalf….”
“Or, since you're a succubus, would you prefer to perform in person out there? We could support that as well, though the video and recording side of things would….”
“Understood.”
At that single word — understood — the atmosphere of the hearing room transformed, as bright and blooming as a rainbow in full flower.
The old men's eyes glittered. Men who had never once watched an internet stream, who had always looked down on such things as beneath them, now wore the expressions of people one step away from total streamer-corruption.
“I'll do it. In exchange, all support, equipment, and assistance goes through the agency….”
“Yes yes, that's the spirit.”
“Heheheh, good, good. Anything else you need?”
“Ah — would it be all right to have Officer Dan as my manager?”
“…I'm sorry, what?”
Officer Dan, mid-pour on the coffee, stared at Jaehee with a look of blank horror.
“What? Obviously it should be Officer Dan.”
“But, I….”
“Yes, quite right! Officer Dan Ahyeon, who already cares for and manages Miss Jaehee day to day — the perfect person to trust with it!”
“So that settles the performance — well, the broadcasting, whatever it's called?”
“How often can you do it? Once a week? Ideally two to three times a week….”
“No, if I could just offer my opinion….”
“I don't know much about computers myself, so I'll delegate to the staff below me and send over the estimates later. Have — Miss Jaehee, no, Officer Dan — review them, confirm the specs are optimized for a music stream, and report back by end of day.”
“…no, wait….”
“Hahaha! Then it's settled! Thank you all for your hard work. And Miss Jaehee, thank you for taking the time to come today!”
“Hehehe, not at all~ I'm quite satisfied myself. It was such a constructive and wholesome conversation, after all.”
“….”
Dan Ahyeon was forced to swallow down the curse rising all the way to her throat.