Chapter 175
Chapter 175
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 175
Chapter Title: How to Stop the Approaching Disaster (7)
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Tokyo, Japan. The Prime Minister's Official Residence.
A brush soaked deeply in finely ground black ink. As soon as its tip touched the paper, the white brush began scrawling letters across the page, dancing freely as if of its own accord.
"The texture is superb. The ink's fragrance is fresh and crisp, which is why it flows so smoothly."
Whenever he had worries weighing on him, Japan's Prime Minister would always take up the brush alone.
He often imitated the scripts of legendary calligraphers in history, and today he was mimicking Han Ho—better known as Han Seok-bong.
A choice that seemed utterly mismatched when considering the Dokdo dispute and the already deteriorated Japan-Korea relations.
"Indeed, Seok-bong's script is bold and vigorous. It suits the current political climate perfectly."
He seemed pleased with his own creation. The Prime Minister wore a satisfied expression.
And at that very moment.
As if waiting for him to finish his hobby—
A tentative knock echoed softly. It was the LDP Secretary-General.
"I've returned as you instructed, Prime Minister."
"Ah, Secretary-General. You're back sooner than expected."
The Prime Minister washed the ink from his hands in a porcelain bowl of water.
He dried the droplets with a clean cloth as he listened to the Secretary-General's report.
"Regarding Takeshima, we could push harder. Kaneyama still seems quite useful."
The Secretary-General had confirmed the performance of a somewhat rebellious but loyal hound.
He mentioned to the Prime Minister the large-scale protest by far-right anti-Korean groups in front of the Korean embassy a few days prior.
"It's been quite effective in rallying the core support base."
"Ah, that protest. I saw it too. Mobilizing that many people in such a short time isn't easy."
"They also contributed more funds than last year, as a bonus. They tucked their tails and groveled on their own—looks like they don't want to end up in the pot. Heh heh."
The Secretary-General burst into boisterous laughter, boasting of his achievements.
However, the Prime Minister saw things differently. He stared straight ahead for a moment before stroking his grayish beard with his palm.
"A pot... Hmm."
"Prime Minister?"
"Honestly, I'm a bit concerned about that Kaneyama fellow."
Once the ink had dried sufficiently, the Prime Minister lifted the paper he had used for calligraphy moments ago.
Bird Exhaust Bow Hide. Pressed firmly onto the white rice paper were the characters for the idiom meaning to store away the bow once all the birds are caught.
"He seems to have a habit of biting too hard, doesn't he? The National Tax Service Director got chomped pretty badly last time, too."
"Ah, that was..."
The Secretary-General's face clearly showed his fluster.
The musky scent of ink began pricking his nose like fear itself.
And then, like driving in the wedge—
A single remark from the Prime Minister.
"What's the point of raising a dog like that if it has no manners?"
"My deepest apologies, Prime Minister. I'll instruct Kaneyama personally to be more careful."
"If it can't be handled at that level, then it's not. You're too soft-hearted, Secretary-General. Wait a moment."
The Prime Minister beckoned lightly toward the front. A secretary immediately approached and handed him a binder.
A red background with three golden flowers behind it. It was a document prepared by the Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office—Japan's equivalent of the National Intelligence Service.
"Here's the list of bureaucrats leashed by that Kaneyama fellow. This agency's intel should be fairly accurate."
"Prime Minister, why..."
"Bureaucrats terrified of being bitten by the dog—if we guarantee their safety, we can take hold of those leashes ourselves, right? More gentlemanly that way."
"......!"
The document landed softly on the woven tatami mat with a thud. Watching the Secretary-General clutch it to his chest like a sacred relic, the Prime Minister spoke.
His voice a shade lower than before.
"Once we get through this election smoothly, look for a moderate path. It's right to beat a neighborhood dog that bites kids with a stick."
"I'll take utmost care to avoid troubling you further."
"I've said all that needs saying, so you may go. Time to get back to calligraphy."
The Secretary-General backed out through the door, leaving silence in his wake.
The Prime Minister turned his gaze back to his brushes, inkstone, and paper.
Bird Exhaust Bow Hide. Script hinting at a purge of Kaneyama, his yakuza underlings, and the out-of-control far-right anti-Korean groups.
"If I write 'Rabbit Dead Dog Cooked' right below it, it'll look even more fitting."
The Prime Minister took up the brush again.
Imitating Han Seok-bong's style as he wrote. He murmured to himself while gazing at the newly completed idiom.
"If the situation aligns properly, it'd be best to deal with the yakuza swiftly. The justification is the issue—need justification."
* * * *
A hand gripping the bokken, trembling uncontrollably.
Tension had beads of sweat forming like dew at her toes, her heart pounding as if about to burst.
Ah, of course, not me—Yoo Se-na, my aide.
-Really... do I have to do this? There's no other way?
"The world is calling out for you desperately, Yoo Se-na aide. Charge out there."
-It's not the world; it feels like just Princess Hina calling me... Anyway, got it.
Signal good. Reception good. Yoo Se-na aide status good.
The in-ear and radio were perfect. All that was left was for her to nail the avatar act.
"Hmm, for now..."
I turned my eyes to the burly men in black suits outside the dojo.
Scary-looking bodyguards, ex-special forces. The moment anyone tried privately approaching that tomboy Princess Hina, they'd swoop in like lightning to stop it—obvious as day.
So I issued orders into the small radio as quietly as possible.
"Advance one square forward."
-Forward, one square forward...!
Yoo Se-na aide advanced like a chess piece, repeating the order back. Her voice dripped with tension. Poor thing.
Princess Hina didn't seem pleased with the sight. She growled like a beast, barking out.
"Has she lost her mind? Charging in without a shred of fear?"
Vaguely understandable Japanese. Not perfectly accurate, but her growling tone conveyed the gist to me.
Meaning she was going full throttle at the pitiful rabbit-like Yoo Se-na aide.
"I already didn't like that innocent face, and now she comes waltzing in to die! Raaah! Head!"
-Chairman! What do I do, what do I do...!
Yoo Se-na aide, mentally fraying, didn't even assume a defensive stance as Princess Hina charged at full speed.
I barked orders into the radio as fast as I could.
"Raise the bokken over your head to block! Hold and shove forward like a bulldozer!"
-Bul, bulldozer...!
Somehow holding strong, sturdy Yoo Se-na aide. Their strengths clashed, forming the first deadlock.
-Chairman! Is this... right?
"Yes. Plan's right, you're right... Ah, forget the last part—watch your waist!"
A sudden hook to the waist.
But Yoo Se-na aide dodged it nimbly, reestablishing the deadlock.
"Why is she holding up so well...? Doesn't seem pro-level."
Like a rock, solid. Following my instructions to the letter, she was unyieldingly tough—even drawing a grumble from Princess Hina.
And the follow-up order.
"Push straight through. Forward!"
-Forward...!
The two kendo practitioners advanced step by step.
As their bokken tips rubbed in a prolonged power struggle, I spoke calmly into the radio, getting to the point.
"From now on, translate everything I say into Japanese exactly."
Princess Hina, infamous as an uncontrollable tomboy.
Even before regression, that was true. She'd followed K-pop idols to concerts, posting dance and song videos on SNS.
Born with the soul of an artist, she couldn't be satisfied caged like a bluebird.
If so... I just needed to open the cage door. Onto a new stage in Korea.
"Princess Hina. Ever thought about becoming an idol? Maybe even center in a girl group, if possible?"
A halt. The solid deadlock cracked suddenly. So much extra force surged into her trembling bokken that I could see it from here.
"What are you people...? Who are you?"
Princess Hina's flustered voice crackled through the radio. Followed by Yoo Se-na aide's utterly panicked one.
-Wh-what do I say, Chairman?
"Ask her if that's what matters now. Say a big company like ours knows how to dodge bodyguards and came prepared. And..."
Static hissed as I conveyed my intent. I... drove the wedge home right then.
An offer Princess Hina couldn't refuse, no matter how she tried.
"If you want to chase your dreams in Korea, I'd like us to meet again soon."
"......"
"I'll make it happen, whatever it is."
Her bokken drooped as if all strength had fled, pointing downward.
Countless thoughts seemed to streak through her mind like shooting stars; she stood frozen, unmoving.
"Did it... work?"
And that instant.
"Raaah! Head!"
-Mommy!
Princess Hina lunged forward, smacking Yoo Se-na aide's head hard. So fiercely that both women tumbled to the floor.
"Wha... what? What is that girl doing?"
And then, she started yanking off Yoo Se-na aide's helmet.
Sweat-matted hair spilled out, and the in-ear piece dangling from her ear fell into Princess Hina's hand.
She strode straight toward me and addressed me.
In surprisingly fluent Korean.
"You're the real deal, huh? That pretty sister's just a puppet doll."
"...You speak Korean?"
Up close, Princess Hina's face was quite pretty.
No exaggeration—definitely idol material in Korea. Maybe even that center girl group spot she craved.
"Whatever. Like you said, who cares about that now? Spit out the main point already."
She grabbed my collar with both hands outright. Her flushed face looked ready to slap me any second.
'Did it fail...?'
Just as tangled emotions swirled like knotted thread—her next words lifted the corners of my mouth.
The gamble to recruit Princess Hina for Japan-Korea relations recovery.
It hit dead-on. Jackpot, even.
"Girl group. I want that no matter what, so meet me here tomorrow at this time. Let's hear what you want."