Reclaim the Earth: Warriors Immune to Hypnosis (10)
"—Why the hell should I? Japanese people aren't inferior at all, and just hearing 'anal masturbation' makes me want to puke. A hypnotist who plunged the world into chaos must be deranged from the start, right?"
"………!!!"
This woman was truly immune to my hypnosis. I'd half-doubted it, figuring that even if she resisted at first, she'd crumble like Scarlett or Sumire the moment we met face-to-face.
But no. She was genuinely unaffected. There were people like this in the world after all. Was my power not omnipotent?
"My answer is 'NO.' Conversation over?"
"…………"
Fujiwara no Himeko's lips, painted with deep purple lipstick, curved into a smile exuding the poise of a seasoned court lady. Would I never see that arrogant bitch crawling at my feet?
"Then let me make my pitch. Hypnotist Kim Hoyoung… any thoughts on freeing us?"
"Out of the question. I don't even know how to undo hypnosis properly, and if I did it now, I'd be screwed. Everyone would come gunning for revenge."
"Fair enough. How about just releasing Japan from hypnosis?"
"?"
That was the real reason Himeko had summoned me. Overwhelmed by the constant need to replace dwindling ranks, she'd finally opted for negotiation.
Forget reclaiming the world. Instead… give back her proud homeland, Japan.
"Japan versus the world? The world wins hands down. You could keep enjoying your power everywhere else. In exchange, grant us—the unhypnotized—a sanctuary on that island nation. We'd live quietly among ourselves there, never targeting you again."
"Easier said than done. We couldn't exactly get along peacefully, could we?"
"We wouldn't expect that. We'd go full isolationist."
"Isolationist?"
Himeko nodded regally.
"Before America forced us open, isolation was Japan's core policy. We'd return to our roots. Restore the true Japan under His Imperial Majesty the Emperor. Economically, politically, geographically—Japan's the only nation that can survive alone."
"Hooh…"
"What do you say? A win-win compromise?"
Himeko extended her hand with a friendly smile. Grasping it would mean yes, I supposed.
There were probably still people out there, unenslaved and seething with hatred for me, hiding in the shadows. Some, like the previous W.L.K. generation, were actively plotting my death. I might drop dead any day without warning.
Better to sign a truce, corral the hostiles in one spot, and let them thrive on their own. Clever girl.
"What's wrong, Kim Hoyoung? No special attachment to Japan, right? You mostly stick to Korea anyway. Oh, I caught that Japanese broadcast where you promoted idols. Shocked when you raped the national announcer Hoshi Jora Ayana live on air. But you can do that stuff elsewhere. Killing us just spawns more assassins—and I'm completely immune to your hypnosis. This is your chance to dump all your headaches at once. Hell, think of Japan as a landfill if you want. From your perspective, anyway."
"You're pretty desperate."
"………"
I took Himeko's hand, still hovering in the air as she desperately sought agreement from her partner.
But not because I endorsed her deal.
I was the god of this world. Why would a god bargain with mortals? You idiot.
"My answer's also 'NO.'"
"…Why?"
"Why? Do I really need to explain?"
I scanned Himeko up and down. She looked every bit the Japanese princess—haughty expression, long lashes, glossy black hime-cut hair. The elegant kimono tailoring, and that fervent Japanese supremacist ideology. How could I resist devouring her?
"Because I have to see you—a bitch preaching Japanese superiority—jerking off your asshole."
"…I see."
Grabbing her hand might've been a fatal mistake. With astonishing grip strength, Himeko yanked me close and drew a pistol from her waistband, jamming the muzzle into my navel. The cold metal bit into my stomach.
"Maybe rational talk doesn't work on Koreans after all."
"G-Gonna shoot?"
Himeko's voice held a seductive allure, like a rose with thorns.
"Know why I haven't killed you yet?"
"………"
Her cute Korean, spoken with a Japanese accent, tickled my ear.
"No guarantee killing you lifts the hypnosis. I kept you alive to find a way to break it. But if you're not undoing it anyway, no need to spare you."
"W-Wait… we were here to talk…"
Truth be told, overconfident in my powers, I hadn't brought guards. No bulletproof vest either—I wouldn't even know how to wear one.
One trigger pull, and I'd be done. Fuck?
"A monkey's brain can't grasp 'Plan B,' huh? A Korean daring to defile Japanese soil. Washing away the filth on Honshu with your blood would be perfect."
"………"
This was real danger. Hadn't the people of this world obeyed my every word?
"P-Put the gun down, Himeko."
"Didn't you see? It doesn't work on me."
"W-Why doesn't hypnosis work on you? What's the reason?"
"Who knows… I don't either, but maybe this?"
An arrogant smile spread across Himeko's thorny-rose face, radiating superiority over Koreans and Japanese pride.
"The blood of the Fujiwara clan, who have served His Imperial Majesty for generations, won't submit to some Korean."
"…Damn. That's your reason?"
Meanwhile, Park Jisoo—the one who'd arranged this meeting—watched tensely from behind a distant pillar, heart pounding.
It's really not working? No bluff! Our leader's the real deal!
She'd considered it might be exaggeration, but seeing Himeko resist hypnosis firsthand skyrocketed her trust to 100%. Threatening his life point-blank with a pistol. The ultimate reversal she'd never dreamed of!
Park Jisoo cheered Himeko on like it was the World Cup, genuine respect surging. The Japan-only plea had felt like a gut punch, but now she forgave it all.
But absurdly, Himeko lowered the gun and holstered it.
"…W-Why?"
"Thank His Imperial Majesty. His birthday's coming up."
"A-And?"
"A true Japanese never takes life on His sacred birthday. I won't sully it with your blood. Feel even a sliver of His grace toward Koreans?"
"How touching. Coincidentally, my birthday's soon too. Shall we throw a joint party with His Majesty?"
"Wanna die?"
No joke in her tone.
"Remember this, Korean. Don't get cocky like you're hot shit. I'll pierce your hypnosis anytime and come for your head."
"…You live up to the 'leader' title. Whoever named you W.L.K. is a joke, though."
"Thanks. See you after the birthday. Next time, this bullet goes through your skull."
Himeko boasted of the honor of housing His Imperial Majesty, not wanting to ruin the party. Whatever—point was, she wouldn't kill me today. Small mercy.
Never imagined a real monster immune to hypnosis. Why her? Pride as a Japanese? Who knew, but I'd survive till my next birthday.
I had no memories of the past year under hypnosis, so my last "party" was a sad solo with a Choco Pie, lights off, singing happy birthday to myself. Now surrounded by followers, I wanted a real bash—but dying here would ruin that.
"…Himeko."
Her long-sleeved kimono trailing elegantly across the floor, Himeko's retreating figure embodied noble Japanese aristocracy. Her noble blood rejecting my hypnosis? Hard to believe… but if true, she might be my true nemesis.
Her death threat no longer seemed mere bluff.
"Damn… can't even enjoy my birthday party now. Why'd his birthday have to overlap mine? Emperor whatever."
Another woman watched Himeko with equal frustration: Park Jisoo, who'd hoped for the hypnotist's demise.
She rendezvoused with Himeko outside the hotel.
"Leader, why spare him? Golden opportunity!"
"You heard. Didn't want murder on His Majesty's birthday."
"That's insane! Leader, do you grasp the stakes?!"
"Nothing comes before His Imperial Majesty in this Fujiwara no Himeko's life."
Himeko stated it flatly. Park Jisoo's fists clenched, but she admired her leader's boldness against that terrifying hypnotist. Maybe Himeko was the world's sole predator for Kim Hoyoung.
If her loyalty to the Emperor delayed the kill, that was forgivable.
"Hosting His Majesty at my mansion this time. Can't let anything ruin it."
"S-So you'll really kill Kim Hoyoung after the party?"
"Obviously. No value in keeping him alive. But not now. Got it? Don't go rogue like Sumire and get caught."
"Of course. You know how vigilant I am."
"True… you're safe."
Park Jisoo avoided even photos of Kim Hoyoung, blocking all hypnosis vectors.
Suddenly, Himeko's trusting smile turned grave. She stopped, deep in thought, as if sensing trouble.
"…? Leader?"
"Jisoo. Sumire doesn't have your phone number exposed?"
"We talked earlier."
"Ditch it. Use this."
She pulled a tiny earpiece from her sleeve.
"Multi-use. Calls, recording, surveillance. Contact me only through this. Busy with birthday prep, but keep it in always—even showering or sleeping. Waterproof, comfy."
"Handy. Thanks."
Park Jisoo gratefully inserted it and parted ways. She'd rented a place near Seoul, unknown even to Sumire, waiting for Himeko's next move.
She checked for tails, avoided news or radio lest Kim Hoyoung appear. TV? Never. Internet only for scouting anti-hypnosis allies, with triple security.
"No matter what, I won't fall to hypnosis."
It was like COVID isolation: no contact, not even family, to block the virus entirely.
Unlike endless pandemic, Kim Hoyoung's life ended post-birthday party. Fixed deadline made waiting easy.
"Caution. Caution. Caution."
Still uneasy, Park Jisoo started a daily journal to check for hypnosis signs.
"Zero chance I'll fall. Even if the world goes mad, I'll stay sane."
This journal would later be donated to academia as key evidence of hypnosis-induced consciousness shifts.