Chapter 150

A few days after Edu and his group returned to Fangju.

Always brightly lit, a vehicle passes through the central avenue of Sunrise Street.

Luxurious in appearance, exquisitely decorated inside.

Despite the atmosphere giving off an impression of utter completeness, the large male student sitting inside furrows his brow and blows steam through his nose.

Indeed, his entire demeanor reveals a glaring lack of everything.

“Master, you seem to be in a foul mood.”

“Shut up! Don’t talk to me.”

Even the gentle inquiry by the automaton, who also serves as the driver, elicits a barbed response from the male student.

“I’m sorry, Master.”

The automaton bows apologetically, but the male student doesn’t respond.

Known as Wikut Chekman but more commonly called “Chunks” by Edu, he sits frowning, glued to his portable terminal.

– An Unbelievable Victory! Academy freshman’s…

– An Incredible Promotion Rate: A Look Into the Topic of Edu Numbusday…

– Is Edu’s Popularity Taking on Religious Dimensions? Recently, across various parts of Fangju,…

Edu, Edu.

Everywhere, the face of that brat appears, causing Wikut’s face to crumple involuntarily.

“Tch, what’s so great about that brat…!”

As he mutters irritably to himself, a conversation he had with Edu comes to mind.

Having agreed to listen to one comment from the person he’d defeated at the friendly match, Wikut, having narrowly lost, recalls the smirk and mocking tone that followed.

“You, all that talk about lineage is something you’ve heard from your parents, right? I’m not saying to deny it entirely, but why don’t you investigate for yourself when and why that story came up?”

“Yeah, so, I’ll hear your findings later, right? Great! Let’s go, Bungbungi.”

In truth, that day’s defeat was one-sided, and Edu hadn’t been underhanded, arrogant, or mocked Wikut at all. However, buried in humiliation, Wikut’s inner thoughts had transformed the memory of Edu into something arrogant and presumptuous.

“Hmph, what a soft guy.”

Having judged Edu’s goodwill thus, Wikut begins manipulating his portable terminal for a search.

Naturally, the content pertains to what Edu mentioned: the Royal Blood Doctrine that supposedly proves his lineage.

“He wasted his promise on something trivial like this, but I wouldn’t throw away such an opportunity–”

Suddenly, Wikut stops muttering to himself.

Lowering his gaze to the terminal, he rolls his eyes, fixated on the content displayed on the screen.

“Hmm…?”

Wikut had known from others about the minor defamation of the Royal Blood Doctrine circulating on the internet.

Still, he had never personally searched for it online, merely furrowing his brow at the antics of the ignorant masses.

Why waste his time on what they considered trivial entertainment, after all?

But the internet world revealed to him by a single search was far from what Wikut had anticipated.

——————————————————–

– ROYALKkkBLDDDkkk

– These kids genuinely think a pumpkin with lines drawn on it is a watermelon lol.

┗ Ahh kk lol so if you draw lines on a pumpkin, it becomes a watermelon~

┗ RIOTkkkk

– Seriously, all that constant talk about lineage feels kinda pathetic.

– Starting my NOT ROYAL BLOOD Day from today.

┗ NOT ROYALkkkkkk

┗ Isn’t it just normal, though? Lol

——————————————————–

Mockery and ridicule filling the internet.

Though he was aware that ignorant people acted foolishly while chatting, there was a different sense of unease.

‘Isn’t there too much of this, even if you overlook everything else?’

Normally, such topics became fleeting gossip and were soon forgotten. But the conversation around the Royal Blood Doctrine was being attacked fiercely, with new posts being uploaded continuously.

…

A small suspicion began to grow in his mind.

Once this suspicion ignited, it sparked curiosity. Before he knew it, Wikut was browsing through countless threads and encountering information he hadn’t been privy to before.

The more claims he encountered, the wider his eyes grew slowly.

After going through dozens, even hundreds of posts, Wikut’s body trembled.

“No way… It can’t be…”

Quickly shaking his head repeatedly, Wikut roughly throws his portable terminal. The device collides with the back of the front seat, emitting a crackling sound as the screen turns off.

“Master?”

“…Where are mother and father?”

“They mentioned attending a social gathering from the afternoon. They mentioned they’d return late and to eat separately…”

“Go to the mansion immediately!”

“I understand.”

The automaton speeds up.

Mixed emotions flicker in Wikut’s eyes as he gazes out the window.

…

Through the dark corridors, he stops in front of a large door.

“Headmaster, we’ve arrived.”

– Good, come in.

Upon hearing the headmaster’s reply, Nisia opens the door.

Walking inside while cradling Seoli in her arms, she sees the headmaster sipping tea while checking something.

“Headmaster! Hi!’

“Alright, welcome, Seoli.”

“Okay!”

After greeting the headmaster brightly, Seoli snuggles back into my arms.

While affectionately stroking Seoli’s itchy head, I turn toward the headmaster.

“What are you doing?”

“I was checking administrative duties.”

“Administrative duties?”

“That’s right; hasn’t there been a major event recently?”

Ah, this topic.

While foreign films and creative works may sometimes end in triumph with phrases like “Coup succeeded! That’s it!” real life is different.

Rather, the real work begins after things calm down.

From securing legitimacy to persuading the citizens and resolving halted administrative tasks, the post-coup forces are faced with a veritable administrative nightmare.

Thankfully, in our case, due to the headmaster’s public trust and the help from Freya and Simonia, we managed to prevent the situation from spiraling. Even so, there’s still a lot that needs to be done.

On top of it, the presidency and the post of marshal are still vacant despite the coup’s success.

‘Even with vacancies, work that needs handling keeps piling up.’

Reflecting on past events, I’m filled with gratitude for how things resolved so well and am once again deeply impressed by the headmaster’s influence.

An unprecedented incident where the sitting president passed away during her term and one marshal was executed by the headmaster—yet, besides a few individuals, there’s barely any public criticism of the headmaster. Her support among the people remains steadfast.

‘Impressive, truly a hero!’

While harboring such thoughts and observing the headmaster, she notices me watching, turns her head, and gazes at me.

“What’s the matter?”

“You seem to be toiling hard.”

“Young man, it isn’t such a big deal. Don’t worry unnecessarily. However… where are the others?”

Six in total, including ourselves. Yet, only four of us are currently present.

“I think they mentioned being late. Shall we wait a while?”

“Oh, yes.”

Upon the headmaster’s suggestion, I get off Bungbungi and move to the nearby sofa.

Time passes lazily.

As the headmaster finishes her tasks and rises from her seat to approach,

“Edu, by the way, I’ve heard people talking a lot about you.”

I twitch involuntarily at the headmaster’s comment, which strikes right at my concern.

“…Because of that, I’ve been thinking of going out wearing a mask.”

“A mask?”

“Yes. I keep getting approached and greeted wherever I go, which feels a bit embarrassing.”

While people’s attention and kindness are truly appreciated, being surrounded by numerous gazes no matter where you go is rather tiring.

In short, it’s countless handshake requests.

Though there are people who revel in such situations, I’m far from that type.

Besides, there’s another significant issue.

‘Oh my, how cute!’

‘How could you be so adorable and sweet?’

‘Edu, you’re cute!’

‘Big sister, you’re small and cute!’

No matter gender or age, when people see me, one word frequently slips their lips: “Cute.”

While it’s true that my appearance might cause such misunderstandings, my mind is that of a robust teenager.

Thus, treating me like a child is something I wish could be avoided.

Of course, responding coldly to people’s kindness wouldn’t be polite, so I obediently accept the head pats and share snacks.

But this is all for the sake of the people—I absolutely do not act this way because I’m childlike. Yes, that’s it.

Ah, thinking about this makes me crave candy.

“Edu?”

Breaking my train of thought, Nisia’s voice sounds.

“What’s up, Nisia?”

“Just my thought, but wouldn’t wearing a mask still make you recognizable because of your hair and Bungbungi?”

“…Ah.”

Her sharp observation snaps me back to reality.

Ah, thinking about it, my long hair is indeed the problem!

“Then I’ll cut my hair–”

“Absolutely not.”

“Mom! No!”

“It’s not allowed.”

Like clockwork, the trio cuts off my words in unison.

“Edu, hair is important to girls. You can’t just cut it off like that.”

“Is…is that so?”

“No way! Mom, your hair is beautiful! Cutting it off is a no-go!”

“Seoli is right. Cutting your hair like that, even jokingly, is unacceptable.”

“Yes…”

Bowing my head in response, I suddenly realize something is off.

Wait a moment—this is my hair, right? Should I not be able to cut it as I wish!?

“The headmaster is here.”

Just as I ponder this, Freya enters, followed by Simonia.

“Edu, Nisia, and Seoli are here too?”

“Yes! Freya! Hi!”

“Hello.”

Freya greets and warmly pats Seoli’s head.

“Simonia nee-san, please come in.”

“Yes, Edu.”

Simonia approaches with a faint smile, reaches out and lifts me up. At that moment, Freya intervenes by extending her hand swiftly.

“Hold on, Simonia. That’s against the Edu agreement.”

“…Tch.”

Simonia reluctantly places me down while expressing dissatisfaction with her tongue.

“Edu!”

Upon her turn, Freya approaches, lifts me with both hands, and embraces me tightly.

“Aah, this is bliss.”

The fierce expression softens completely as Freya smiles warmly.

Seating herself on the sofa, she gently taps her knee.

“Seoli, come here too!”

“Okay!”

Seoli runs over and dives into my arms, and as I gently hold her, Freya’s arms welcome us both warmly.

“Ah, this is happiness.”

“…”

Freya’s relaxed tone contrasts with Simonia who, looking at us with an almost envious glint, sticks out her tongue.

Unclear as it is, it seems they’ve set an agreement to take turns hugging me and Seoli.

“…Hmm, now that everyone’s here, let’s begin the discussion.”

“Yes.”

“Alright then.”

Simonia sits down.

“I’ll start. I negotiated with the Fourth Interstellar Fleet, and they sent a few ships.”

“Oh? They sent them incredibly quickly?”

“Yes. They were left alone and couldn’t communicate with the others, making them more eager to cooperate with us.”

“I see.”

True, the Invaders are engaged in a slaughter with the Fourth Interstellar Fleet, and the Cryptids are nearly impossible to communicate with anyway.

“The details are being checked by Banetta, and we’re also recovering our fleet in space.”

“That’s good, things seem to be progressing smoothly.”

The headmaster nods in agreement.

“It’s my turn now. The reorganization of the First Corps is almost complete, so we’ll be ready to move soon. Just don’t forget the initial promise.”

“True, didn’t the First Corps agree to follow Edu’s orders?”

“Yes.”

She responds promptly.

Before, when we were moving to Fangju City for the coup, Simonia suddenly appeared before us. She offered information and cooperation in exchange for a few commitments, one of which was this.

“After everything is done, the First Corps will be under Edu’s command. That’s one of my prerequisites.”

We clearly remember her words.

Though at the time we accepted quietly due to wanting and needing her help, reflecting now, it feels a bit excessive.

No, definitely excessive!

“Isn’t that too risky? I’m just a parachuted commander, and Simonia nee-san is a marshal. If mishandled, the command system could crumble–”

“It’s fine, I’ve trained them well… and they’ll listen to Edu nicely.”

“What exactly did you say?”

This person—didn’t she just try to say “trained”?

Glaring at her accusation, she shyly turns her head while flicking her tongue.

Suddenly, she slaps her hands and gazes at me.

“Ah! I just thought of a good idea. Edu, want to try on a marshal rank?”

“No!!?”

Are you suggesting giving away a marshal rank like appointing a class monitor?!

“It’s up to you, but you should think about it.”

“It’s absolutely fine as it is.”

As it is, with all the attention, getting a title like “youngest marshal” would undoubtedly explode the situation—nope, no way, absolutely no way!

“Alright, in any case, if the First Corps becomes operational, the situation will improve somewhat.”

“Ah, there’s also the Second Corps–”

Reports and conversations continue, with light topics mixing with crucial matters while time swiftly passes, and the evening sun slowly starts setting.

“It’s already this late, so let’s stop here for today. Perhaps some light shopping?”

“What? Shopping at this time?”

“Yeah. We were busy last time, but now Edu’s become a general, right?”

“Right.”

Although I’m a parachuted one.

“So?”

“Traditionally, when someone attains general rank, senior officers celebrate by shopping together and buying them a suit! Let’s go now.”

“What? Is there really such a tradition?”

“Yeah, it’s true!”

“Hmm?”

This is the first time I’m hearing this as someone familiar with the AOE lore.

As I tilt my head in confusion, Freya vigorously pats my head and tightens her embrace.

“If Freya says so, then it must be true. So, we’re all going shopping now?”

“Yes, I’ve prepared the car, so let’s depart immediately!”

Freya stands up quickly.

“Then Headmaster, I’ll head down first?”

“Alright, I’ll follow shortly.”

“Let’s go, Nisia.”

“Yes!”

As Freya and the Edu group leave the room, the conversation shifts.

When their footsteps fade, Ryuje’s expression grows serious.

“Is everything prepared meticulously?”

“Yes, we’ve assembled promising individuals from our battalion, elite operatives from the terrestrial recovery team, and even that scary old man’s team.”

Earlier discussions were all preliminary stages for the crucial plan.

Previously, during their search for the remnants of the president’s faction hiding somewhere in Fangju, Ryuje, Freya, and Simonia noticed the president’s fixation on Edu.

“Has the information been leaked properly?”

“Absolutely. It’s been circulated among suspicious gangs, money-hungry individuals, and even those in the underground world.”

“…”

Lost leads and lingering anxieties.

The only way to address this situation, recognized by Simonia, Ryuje, and Freya, was to lure out the enemy. Hence, this operation was launched—”Can’t Stand It Anymore” Operation.

The goal was to attract the hidden president’s attention by showcasing Edu’s presence, neutralizing any lurking threats with meticulous and well-disguised preparations, and subsequently subduing any enemies who show themselves.

If only minions appear, dealing with them would warn others, and long-term efforts could preemptively eliminate dangerous elements—a plan they were aware of.

That’s why Freya and Ryuje agreed, but no one felt entirely at ease about it.

“Still, using Edu and the kids as bait doesn’t sit well with me.”

“I agree, but this is the only way to quickly find and eliminate that madman.”

“It’s true, but…”

“We’ll be tightly guarding them, so don’t worry unnecessarily. I don’t want to feel gloomy either.”

“…Hmm, you’re right. That was an unwarranted comment.”

Ryuje nods, collecting his thoughts.

“Shall we go then?”

“Yes.”

Some time passes.

In an alley.

Despite generally poor law enforcement in the Outland region, one of the most dangerous areas emerged where a group appeared.

“Hey, did you hear?”

“Yeah, I just confirmed.”

Armed with guns, clubs, messy knives, and rags alike, the group stands ready.

“So, we just need to get one of them…”

Their eyes are on the old portable terminal, displaying a picture of Edu, the long silver-haired girl.

“So we can live comfortably from now on, right…”

“Is this really possible? Isn’t he that hero from Fangju or something?”

A hesitant group member is frowned upon by the man.

“Idiot, it’s all exaggerated anyway! Other guys have already moved.”

“Are… are you sure?”

“It’s confirmed. Let’s hurry.”