Chapter 54
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Official Statement
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The Blue House assault incident.
Rimon Asfelder had stormed the Blue House single-handedly, crushed the security detail, and taken the president hostage.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say the entire nation had been blanketed with this one story over the past few days.
It was that massive an event, and there were just so many angles to probe.
The fact that the perpetrator was the National Savior Hero.
The fact that no one knew the motive.
The fact that they hadn't been able to stop Rimon.
The scorched-earth devastation of the Blue House grounds.
And even the connection between Rimon and Lee Cheongi.
Each detail brimmed with headline-grabbing suspicions and consequences, enough to spawn entire broadcasts dedicated solely to debating the matter.
"Hey, Kim reporter. Got any good scoops?"
"Scoops? I've got plenty. Thanks to Humanity's Guardian Deity, business is booming these days."
"Come on, not that generic stuff. Something like why Humanity's Guardian Deity turned traitor."
"If I knew that, would I be sitting here? I'd be sprinting to file the story already."
Even the media folks were no exception when it came to craving the truth behind the incident.
No, if anything, they were worse off.
Being in positions where they could access information easily meant they had even more reasons to struggle with grasping the situation or making sense of the chaos.
"I'm starting to doubt if this is even real."
"What do you mean?"
"Think about it. Storming the Blue House all by himself? Does that even make sense? Just the president's security detail has several high-level players."
"He's Humanity's Guardian Deity, after all."
"That's from back when players didn't even exist. At the end of the day, he's just a regular guy who's really good with a sword."
"Fair point..."
They had heard testimonies from those who fought Rimon at the Blue House.
The problem was how utterly unbelievable those accounts sounded.
He blocked shells with the tip of his sword.
Bullets veered away on their own.
He sliced skills apart with his blade.
Every story was like that, making it seem like they'd all hallucinated from some mass drugging.
Of course, the consensus was more that the government had fabricated the testimonies.
For people armed with the common sense that no ordinary human could pull off what players couldn't, such skepticism was only natural.
"And he came in through the front gate, no less."
"Yeah, probably covering up the infiltration route they don't want revealed."
"Obviously. No sane person would do that unless their brain was made of udon noodles."
Two unfortunate facts.
Rimon wasn't bound by common sense.
And while his brain wasn't made of flour, he'd been called a mad dog his whole life.
"I dug up some old records mentioning Rimon Asfelder while I was at it, and man, what a joke."
"That bad?"
"Yeah. All nonsense like cleaving the sea with one swing or circling the Earth thirty-seven times in a day. Novels have some limits, you know."
"Tsk tsk. Old folks and their exaggerations..."
"It worked back then. Made for good propaganda fodder."
"That's from the era when people believed Hong Gildong was real. Who buys that crap nowadays?"
That was why the media was tearing their hair out.
They were experts at inflating one thing into ten, fabricating facts into gossip and headlines.
But even they had limits.
With attention already maxed out, peddling these outlandish testimonies and records as truth was a tough sell—even for them.
Forget the public; their bosses would chew them out for calling this "reporting."
"Damn it, if the Blue House would just issue a statement, we could run with something. What's with the total blackout and media gag order?"
"Right? They'd usually leak something chatty by now."
Another reason they couldn't run stories freely: the government's bizarre response.
Normally, after an incident like this, the government's first move was a statement like, "The crisis is over; you can rest easy now."
It didn't matter if everyone saw through the bluff.
The act of bald-faced lying signaled that things were back to business as usual—and plenty would buy into it for reassurance.
Surprisingly many, even.
But this time, the government was dragging its feet on any statement in a most peculiar way.
No, it went further: they were quietly muzzling media outlets.
As if terrified of blabbing and stepping on the wrong toes.
Small wonder rumors were flying.
The president was already dead.
Rimon had fled overseas.
It was all a government conspiracy.
Rumors the media would normally amplify or debunk.
Yet here they were, biting their tongues out of deference to the government's silence, squandering prime story fodder.
It was enough to make their guts twist.
"Let's wait it out. Something solid has to drop today."
"Yeah, it's the first press conference since the incident."
That was why they brimmed with anticipation.
The announcement at the upcoming conference would finally give them material to work with.
A few had even prepped pointed questions, ready to flex the mighty power of the free press against those daring to ignore the people's right to know—spokesperson or not.
Screech.
But moments later.
As the press room door swung open and a man stepped into view.
From the camera ops idly filming the room to the reporters firing off live intros with fiery zeal.
Everyone froze, eyes bulging like they might pop out.
Thud, thud.
As if doubting their own eyes, like it was all a dream.
Ignoring the slack-jawed stares of the reporters, the man calmly ascended the podium.
The white-suited figure, half his hair draped over one eye, lightly adjusted his new monocle.
"What are you doing?"
A calm face, a steady voice.
Yet that single question jolted the reporters out of their stupor.
Infinite Monarch Lee Cheongi eyed the broadcast cameras and continued softly.
"Begin the press conference."
It was chaos.
It was shock.
It was bewilderment.
It was the shared emotion of not just the reporters in the room, but nearly everyone watching the broadcast.
The scene was that utterly unexpected.
[Um, Infinite Monarch, sir? I understood this to be the Blue House's official statement...]
[Correct.]
[...Then why are you the one holding the press conference?]
Whether from uncontainable bewilderment.
A hesitant reporter voiced the question on everyone's mind.
Lee Cheongi was a lord who shunned broadcasts unless absolutely necessary.
Even at Infinity Guild conferences, he sent spokespeople; facing reporters directly was exceedingly rare.
For such a man to appear at the Blue House briefing?
Utterly incongruous.
A few reporters even glanced around, wondering if they'd stumbled into the wrong room.
But the moment Lee Cheongi spoke.
They plunged into a whole new layer of confusion.
[Today, I speak for the Blue House.]
[...? ? ?]
Question marks popped up over every reporter's head.
Doubting their ears.
Or their brains rejecting comprehension.
They stood frozen with blank expressions, as if afflicted by 【Status Ailment: Confusion】.
When they finally snapped out of it, they blurted in disbelief.
[What kind of nonsense is that?!]
Nonsense.
An apt description.
No matter his status as lord and Infinity Guild master, Lee Cheongi wasn't government.
He had no qualification, right, or reason to speak for the Blue House.
It was like an actor, athlete, or corporate tycoon suddenly playing presidential spokesperson.
The objection was valid.
Bewilderment was inevitable.
But Lee Cheongi quelled their turmoil with a curt reply.
[Is there a problem?]
It happened in an instant.
The reporters, itching to speak, clamped their mouths shut like folding fans.
Lee Cheongi slowly scanned them, as if inviting any grievances.
The moment their eyes met his impassive gaze, they all realized it.
Unlike celebrities, he was no one they could question the credentials of.
Of course, few noticed the subtle influence of skills like 【Intimidation】, 【Overwhelm】, or 【Threat】.
Even if they did, it wouldn't matter.
Before them stood the Infinite Monarch.
One of the ten absolutes ruling this era.
[No further questions? Then we're good.]
A simple declaration.
Not interpreting silence as assent, but compelling it.
No one raised a counterargument.
In the resulting hush—procured all too easily—Lee Cheongi adjusted his monocle and pressed on.
[As you're all aware, I'll start with the official statement on the minor mishap at the Blue House a few days ago.]
'Minor mishap?'
'A presidential hostage crisis?'
'How do you see it that way?'
The statement hadn't even begun.
Yet that opener alone triggered pupil earthquakes and grotesque grimaces across the room.
Had it come from the presidential spokesperson—or the president himself—they'd have unleashed a barrage of questions.
[Let me get straight to the point.]
But they had no idea.
That was merely the prelude.
Compared to the shock his next words unleashed, it was nothing.
[It was all a 'show.']
[...Pardon?]
[It was part of an emergency response drill simulating a high-level player coup attempt and Blue House infiltration.]
Jaws dropped with an audible crack.
But Lee Cheongi paid no mind, whether they hit the floor or not.
He continued his explanation with his usual impassive demeanor.
[This was undertaken by the government, with special cooperation from the PAB, out of concern over society's apathy toward rising crimes by high-level players...]
It was all a planned drill.
The hostage drama itself was staged.
The exercise exposed numerous flaws in Blue House security and emergency protocols.
The PAB would be reformed to address them, enabling smoother responses to rogue high-level players going forward.
Infinity Guild would handle reconstruction of the damaged Blue House.
And so on, with some verbose details mixed in.
But the gist was simple.
Forget the whole 'show'; pretend it never happened.
In a way, quintessentially Blue House.
Which made it all the more infuriating—and it flipped the room upside down.
[You're asking us to believe that?]
[And if we don't?]
[What the—!]
[Will you stake your journalistic integrity on claiming Rimon Asfelder suddenly turned traitor, the government failed to stop him, and the president was taken hostage?]
But hearing that, the reporters fell silent again.
That alternative rang even less true to reality.
Especially since "staking your career" didn't sound like a joke, naturally weighing down their tongues.
Taking responsibility for a story?
An alien, daunting concept for them.
They'd chased only gossip and buzz, sparing not a speck of care for truth.
To them, Lee Cheongi said flatly.
[If you won't, then shut up.]
Don't run it unless you're ready to own it.
And if you won't even pretend, then don't spout off.
Ignore this warning and yap anyway? He'd hold them accountable personally.
Lee Cheongi summed it up succinctly.
One reporter, patience snapped, bellowed.
[Th-this is media suppression!]
[Suppression... An interesting word.]
But Lee Cheongi didn't bat an eye.
He regarded the man calmly and continued.
[I only said to take responsibility for your articles. If that's suppression, does that mean you'll just spew unaccountable rumors?]
[...]
The reporter, who'd spoken rashly and gained nothing, shut his mouth with a bluish face.
Lee Cheongi looked away.
Surveying the room instead.
[Any more questions?]
Final check.
His last chance.
But no one stepped up.
They flinched, averted eyes, dodged responsibility.
As if he'd expected as much.
Or known they would.
Lee Cheongi withdrew his gaze from the reporters, stared straight at the cameras, and concluded.
[That ends the press conference.]
Perhaps because that stark close left camera ops, studios, and anchors alike dumbfounded.
Even after Lee Cheongi departed and murmurs rose in the now-silent room.
The TV screen lingered on the empty podium.
A white-haired man watched it intently.
Only after a long moment did Rimon voice his reaction to the conference.
"...Wow."