The first person I formed a connection with at this academy.
The only one maintaining an official relationship under the title of ‘personal maid.’
The fact that he, who carries a kindness rivaling that of a sword master, is going to France to save Olivia.
The fact that I’ll request a lengthy trip from him when he comes to find me.
I had already anticipated this in my mind.
Yet still, in a corner of my heart, there was a part of me eagerly looking forward to a private meeting with him.
There was also a part of me feeling jealous of Olivia.
That’s why I sent my personal secretary, Ritsuko, on an errand under the pretext of getting some yokan.
“What on earth did I expect from that kid? This body is…”
Seira lowers her head.
She bites her lip.
She knows she’s being foolish.
She’s desperately trying to suppress her feelings.
But the more she tries to ignore it, the more her fondness swells, shaking Seira’s composure like a snowball.
“You’ve even inherited his indifference to women.”
Seira’s eyes waver.
“It’d be nice if I didn’t inherit things like that. What a bad kid.”
Seira’s expression hardens as she recalls the appearance of the sword master.
Honestly, it scares her.
The thought that he is leaving Tokyo, where she has jurisdiction, and flying all the way to France.
In Japan, she could somehow move directly or use Ichiro to manage the association’s power on the indirect side, ensuring his safety.
But France is out of her jurisdiction.
No matter what accident happens there, there’s almost nothing Seira can do.
If it’s an incident outside the country, it runs a high risk of escalating into a diplomatic issue.
Moreover, his objective is to interrupt the engagement, and Kim Deok-Sung’s nationality is Korean, not Japanese.
Seira cannot officially protect him.
“I couldn’t protect him… But I can’t lose you too.”
Seira bites her lip.
The sole survivor of Five Crowns, Chairman of Shuo Hero Academy, a global hero.
Despite carrying those glorious titles, at this moment, she was no different from a powerless ordinary person.
The only thing she could do was pray.
A sense of wretched powerlessness weighed heavily on Seira’s shoulders.
“He must return alive, that kid.”
Just as Seira was steeling herself with that determination.
Clunk.
The door to the Chairman’s Room opens.
“Chairman! I brought your yokan!”
A mint-haired beauty bursts in with a loud Kansai dialect.
“Oh, you’re back, Ritsuko.”
Seira shakes her head, awkwardly smiling.
Ritsuko places the bag of yokan on the desk, watching Seira closely. She pulls a pipe from her pocket, sticks it in her mouth, and clicks her tongue.
“What’s with that face of yours? Tsk, tsk. Did you send me on errands just to be all lovey-dovey with that Kim Deok-Sung brat again?”
Ritsuko, who had unwillingly stuck by the chairman’s side as her personal secretary, could tell.
She knew that Seira liked Kim Deok-Sung.
Today was no different.
The yokan had piled up enough for over a month, and sending her out to buy more was when Ritsuko sensed the chairman’s ulterior motive.
The sweet red bean jelly has been piling up for over a month, and from the moment she was sent on an errand to buy more, Ritsuko sensed the chairman’s ulterior motive.
“Shut up, Ritsuko! I just want the jelly…”
“Act your age, Grandma.”
How pathetic.
Ritsuko swallowed her words.
Kim Deok-Sung is the object of affection for his niece, Makoto.
As someone who cares about Makoto and keeps an eye on her, Ritsuko naturally didn’t like the chairman’s hidden intentions.
Smack.
A vein mark appeared on Seira’s forehead.
“What did you say? Grandma? Ritsuko, I’ve been treating you nicely lately, and you’re starting to get ahead of yourself. Should I make you taste the bitter hell of overtime to get you in line?”
“N-no.”
Ritsuko’s face paled.
She hated overtime more than anything.
As if the life of a working adult wasn’t pointless enough, now her evenings were disappearing.
Terrible.
“If you don’t want to experience the hell of overtime, go fetch today’s documents.”
“Understood.”
Ritsuko stepped out of the Chairman’s Room again.
Thud.
Watching the door close, Seira muttered in a low voice.
“Act your age…”
*
The president quickly regained his composure, and the luncheon began.
An orchestra in one corner played classical music.
Naturally, I was seated at the table with the president and the first lady.
Next to me sat Han Seo-Jin.
“Mr. Kim Deok-Sung, I’m so overwhelmed with emotion that I made a mistake. Please forgive me.”
Living every day surrounded by Japanese, hearing only Korean again felt a bit refreshing.
The nationalistic atmosphere was uncomfortable, though.
The president smiled and cautiously spoke.
“No, it doesn’t seem like it’s my place to grant forgiveness.”
Why should I be the one to forgive him?
Click, click.
Even in front of the president, the sound of camera shutters kept going.
I could even see a broadcast camera.
“I’ve always been impressed by Mr. Kim Deok-Sung’s accomplishments. Not just me, but all the citizens of South Korea. Thanks to you, our international standing has improved. You are the only hope and light for South Korea.”
The president looked at me with sincere, glistening eyes.
It’s tough to endure the shining gaze of a middle-aged man.
“Ah, yes…”
I awkwardly nodded with a forced smile.
Honestly, dealing with the chairman’s nonsense seemed easier.
Here I was, stuck between the president high on nationalism and the overseas delegation. Helping is fine, but it felt like sitting on pins and needles.
“Hahaha! For someone who has achieved great feats in the five-thousand-year history of South Korea, you have such a humble demeanor. Truly, Mr. Kim Deok-Sung, you are a genuine hero and not something to be ashamed of to show the world.”
The president laughed heartily.
The first lady and government officials sitting around nodded in agreement.
Even the luxurious food laid out on the table made my appetite vanish.
I hadn’t even had breakfast.
Ah, my stomach really churns.
“Oh dear, I’ve said too much. Seeing you brings me such joy that I just…”
The president’s words trailed off as tears began to flow.
He pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his tears.
What is with this guy? Seriously.
They should at least limit the praise; I’m starting to feel hot in the face.
If this is what it’s like to return from a trip abroad, then no way!
‘I definitely shouldn’t go back during summer vacation.’
Staying in the dormitory and just hanging out sounds way more relaxing.
Since vacation is meant for playing around, going back would stop me from having any fun at all.
[Partner. Wouldn’t it be better to go back during summer vacation? You keep avoiding it, and they always call you back for something else.]
The Black Prince trails off with his ominous tone.
Why’s he suddenly dropping hints like that?
‘No way that’s happening.’
Well, either way, I won’t have to go back.
There’s nothing to do.
In the original work, there was no episode where the New World League targeted Korea instead of Japan.
This incident might create a slight possibility, but anyway, Messiah’s ultimate goal is the underground ruins Broken World at Shuo Hero Academy.
There’s no reason for that clever final boss to aim for Korea, which has nothing to gain.
Once I decisively cut that thought off, the Black Prince fell silent too.
[The President will now give the opening remarks and toast.]
The host’s voice echoes.
“Now, I’ll pour for you myself, so take a drink. It’s prepared with your favorite cola.”
Siiip.
The sparkling glass is filled with fizzy cola, which feels rather inappropriate for an elegant champagne flute.
The President stands up, holding the champagne glass, and speaks.
“Today is a glorious day. It’s a day to celebrate Mr. Kim Deok-Sung, a proud talent of South Korea loved by the world, and a person respected and adored by all 50 million citizens, the future pillar of South Korea! My toast will be ‘Kim Deok-Sung, let’s shout 최고다!’”
My face continues to heat up.
What’s a toast?
I can’t be hearing this wrong.
“Kim Deok-Sung!”
The President raises his champagne glass to the ceiling.
““““““최고다!!!!”””””
A toast echoing through the luncheon hall.
“Ughhh…”
A groan escapes my lips involuntarily.
My face burns up.
This national euphoria feels so embarrassing.
It was better when I encountered national pride only through YouTube and news.
The reality of it is unbearable.
“Hahaha. Mr. Kim Deok-Sung. It’s an honor to meet you again. If you don’t mind, how about that love shot?”
A shocking voice whispers in my ear.
What? Love shot?
Are you messing with me right now?
I barely hold back a curse that rises to my throat.
The domestic media is live broadcasting this luncheon.
I absolutely cannot refuse the President’s proposal.
“…Alright.”
Creak.
I stand up.
[A love shot with a middle-aged man? Terrible!]
‘Shut up.’
The Black Prince speaks with a pitiful voice.
Click, click, click, click!
Camera flashes continue to go off.
I approach the President holding the cola glass.
“Alright, one shot.”
With that one phrase from the President, we take the love shot.
Gulp, gulp.
The carbonation tickles my throat.
After that hellish love shot moment, I sit down.
“The luncheon menu is specially composed of Korean dishes for you, who have been working hard overseas. Now, eat up.”
True to the President’s words, the food laid out on the table was all Korean.
Visually stunning dishes that could rival fine Korean cuisine are spread before me.
In the middle, there’s even Shinsengyo, a royal court dish that I only saw on TV.
Without saying anything, I pick up a piece of bulgogi and pop it into my mouth.
Delicious.
After eating Japanese food every day, having Korean food after a long time feels slightly refreshing.
“If you’re still hungry, just let me know, and I’ll have more brought. You should eat a lot during your growing phase; that’s how you grow strong, right?”
I have no idea what it means to grow strong.
Even though I’ve never said I was lacking, the waiters constantly bring more food to the table.
The large table is filled with food.
Literally, it’s a feast that could break the table leg.
The food is tasty, but in a situation filled with cameras everywhere, I can’t tell if the food goes in through my mouth or my nose.
Damn it.
“Mr. President, do you have any plans after the luncheon? Maybe a press conference or something?”
I can’t handle any more of this national pride event here.
I really just want to get to the point quickly.
With that intent in mind, I ask the question, and the President smiles.
“Other than the private meeting with you, there’s nothing else. It would be good to continue the discussion there.”
I guess there’s nothing else, so I’m relieved.
I feel a bit lighter in my stomach.
I’m feeling quite at ease.
As I listen to the President’s response, I pop a piece of nibble into my mouth.
Now that the showy ceremony is over, it’s time for the private meeting to hear how the VIP plans to cooperate with me.
Is it really okay for our country to be like this?
After the hellish luncheon filled with nationalistic fervor.
Tokyo Imperial Hotel. A high-end meeting room.
True to the oldest and most representative hotel in Japan, the room is neatly adorned with tatami mats.
Beyond the glass walls, a Japanese-style garden is beautifully landscaped.
Sitting across from the President of South Korea in this room styled in traditional Japanese fashion.
It looks like an ordinary room, but outside the door, bodyguards stand watch like a fortress, while inside, men in suits, presumed to be NIS agents, are carrying mysterious scanning devices for eavesdropping inspections.
Behind me, Han Seo-Jin stands like a statue.
What a situation.
On the wooden table in the center of the tatami room, there are two cups of green tea.
The subtle aroma of green tea tickles my nose.
This isn’t the powdered matcha I see in Japan daily; it’s steeped leaf green tea.
“Mr. Kim Deok-Sung. This green tea was personally procured from Hadong. The Mayor of Hadong and the head of the Hadong Agricultural Cooperative asked me to have you taste it and give feedback.”
The President smiles as he speaks.
Hadong is a famous place for green tea in Korea, along with Boseong.
He personally had it brought in for me?
Is there a place in this world of South Korea that isn’t drenched in nationalism?
Suddenly, a viral meme I saw on the internet comes to mind—a nationalism club montage.
The background is Dokdo with fluttering Taegukgi, featuring Psy, BTS, K-Wave stars, kimchi, Choco Pie, textbooks about the Chiachia tribe, player Son Heung-min, director Bong Joon-ho, Olympic gold in archery, and all sorts of nationalistic elements artificially combined.
Could my face possibly be in that nationalism club in this world?
Just the thought gives me chills.
My hands begin to tremble anew.
I think it would be better for my mental health if I stop thinking about it.
I cut off my musings.
Slurp.
I take a sip of the green tea with my trembling hands.
“How is it?”
“It’s okay.”
From my standpoint, which isn’t too fond of tea, it was just an average green tea flavor, but there’s no need to say it tastes bad here.
“Ha, hahaha! That’s a relief. I’ll personally convey that to the Mayor of Hadong and the Agricultural Cooperative head. They might just faint upon hearing it, claiming it to be the greatest honor of their lives.”
Faint, huh?
He might have meant it as a joke, but coming from someone who just fainted at the luncheon, it doesn’t sound like a joke at all to me.
[It might not sound great saying this in front of my partner, but I’m starting to get a little scared of my partner’s country.]
The Black Prince speaks in a trembling voice.
Just when I was sincerely worried about the health of the cooperative head and the mayor of Hadong.
“Mr. President, the eavesdropping inspection is complete. This room is safe.”
A man in a suit, presumed to be an NIS agent, whispers into the President’s ear.
He bows at a ninety-degree angle towards me.
“Please enjoy your time, Mr. Kim Deok-Sung. Well then!”
With a swish.
After confirming that the NIS agent has stepped back, the President clears his throat.
“Ahem. Let’s leave the introductions at that and get to the main point. Mr. Kim Deok-Sung. You’re most curious about how I’ll cooperate, aren’t you?”
A faint smile plays at the corners of the President’s mouth.
His eyes are sharper now than during our earlier small talk.
[This President isn’t just an ordinary person, is he? My partner.]
The Black Prince remarks with a cliché line upon seeing the President’s gaze.
Well, this President must have something unique about them, whether good or bad, to have reached such a high position.
“Once my meeting with the Prime Minister of Japan concludes, my next destination will be France.”
