Chapter 387: Destiny (6)

I also rested for five more days.

Seriously, I just slept nonstop. Just when I was on the verge of getting bedsores from lying down so long, I was finally free—well, discharged.

As I stretched, I heard an unpleasant sound in my joints. The air had a sweet-and-salty taste. Was the air with microdust always like this? I’ll have to breathe it more often.

“Mmm.”

At that moment, my thigh vibrated. I checked, and the caller was Choi Seol-Ah, the most famous celebrity of the moment.

The story’s a bit long, but in short, it all started with that broadcast. You know, the live incident. She was there as the interviewer and ended up making a scene.

The cheap rabbit mask, the long, well-proportioned legs, her sharp way of speaking, and on top of that, a public service program.

Viewers started calling her “the public service program girl,” or shorter, “PS Girl.” Clips of her actions were cut and circulated on online communities, eventually trending almost like a cult.

I smiled slightly and answered the call.

“Hey, PS Girl.”

— Ah, seriously! I told you not to call me that!

“Why? It sounds good.”

— It doesn’t sound good at all! If you’re going to make fun of me, I’m hanging up!

“But you’re the one who called.”

— Ah.

Using someone like her as a secretary—I wonder if Ryozo isn’t worried that Seol-Ah might just add to her workload. Although, they say she’s actually quite competent. It seems intelligence and work skills don’t always go together.

— You’re thinking something bad about me right now, aren’t you?

“Yes. They definitely don’t go together.”

— Seriously!

“So, what was the call for?”

— …The director wants to see you.

‘Ugh, my sweat gland just burst—just as I expected, Ryozo. And she even calls me through Choi Seol-Ah.’

I guess she’s still not over being mad at me.

It’s well known that there was a clash while I was hospitalized. My mother-in-law managed to calm things down for the moment, but that was only a temporary fix by a third party. Neither Ryozo nor Abel forget so easily.

One way or another, sooner or later we’d have to talk directly. I’m not good at closing conflicts, so I thought I’d take a few days to reflect.

— She wants you to come to the tower of the main building.

D-day was suddenly moved up.

“…And what’s going on there?” I asked. Her reply came in an indifferent tone.

— Go and ask her yourself. I’m curious too.

The screen went black. I stared at my own reflection in the dark glass.

Did Seol-Ah… just hang up on me first?

“Ha, haha.”

I put away the phone and ran my thumb over my jacket. Murasame and my EX-class gear were still with me.

It was time to use them again. A little fresh blood—maybe film another public service program. People need to learn that wagging your tongue carelessly can have a price.

‘But first…’

I tilted my head back. The midday light made me squint. The top of the main building was reflected in my cornea. Straining my eyes, I thought I saw a silhouette.

Bzzzt!

It was Ryozo. I immediately recognized the intensity of her gaze—typical of an archer.

If I was late, I could get in trouble.

I used lightning magic to propel myself upward. The heat on my nape hit me as I got too close to the sun. I used magic again and descended diagonally.

Bzzzt.

Electricity covered my whole body. That’s how I landed in front of Ryozo. She watched me with narrowed eyes. My heart skipped a beat.

“…”

Beyond the fact that her gaze was anything but friendly, the concerning part was that she was holding a bow—the S-rank bow Jeokgung Baeksi. I had a bad feeling; depending on the situation, I could be her target.

“You’ve been discharged already?”

Ryozo asked me with an expression as rough as sandpaper. I hesitated for a moment before nodding. She sighed and added.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine, thanks to my mother-in-law’s care. No, better than fine.”

“I see… Don’t push yourself too hard.”

Her voice was like sand. Raspy, stinging. Without meaning to, I started to stammer.

“I…”

“It’s not your fault. I know. Back then, both Abel and I were upset and reacted poorly. Sorry for complaining to someone who was sick. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“I…”

“Geom-Ma.”

I froze. Ryozo stared fixedly at my shrunken self.

“There’s nothing that makes someone who already feels guilty feel worse than apologizing to them.”

“…”

“I know you want to take care of us and protect us. I understand. But at least this time, I want you to accept our words just as they are.”

“O-okay…”

“Say it firmly.”

“Okay.”

Cold. Her hand slipped between the buttons of my jacket and felt my abs.

It felt like a cold-blooded animal crawling on my skin.

“You’re not tensing your abs, right?”

“Okay!”

Ryozo smiled.

“That’s better.”

I felt like a trained animal—probably just my imagination. While fixing my clothes, I asked her.

“By the way, what are you doing here? I hardly ever see you in this place.”

She could enjoy the view from her office, much more comfortable than this spot exposed to the icy wind.

“I was just waiting.”

Her blue hair fluttered, leaving a bright trail in the air.

“Waiting for who? Me?”

“In about ten minutes, some high-ranking government officials will come to the director’s office—the prime minister, the minister of defense, and the minister of financial planning.”

Quite the lineup. Aside from the president, they were the most influential heavyweights in Korea.

That was strange. Ryozo hated abuses of power. As a director, she’d never call in politicians like that for no reason. And to do it on a weekday, in broad daylight—there was clearly something serious.

Recalling what had happened in recent days, the conclusion was obvious.

“The new Villain Union…”

The villains had set themselves up all over the country. Surely Ryozo wanted to share information with the authorities responsible for national security. Joaquin Academy is, above all, an educational institution. In emergencies, it can act as an asymmetric force, but it’s still a place of learning.

“Also…”

The flow of air suddenly changed. I could feel it on my skin and see it in the movement of her hair.

Ryozo raised her bow, nocked an arrow, and gauged the distance. She closed one eye as the string brushed lightly against her lips.

Before I could ask, she shot.

Fwoooong!

The arrow traced a parabola and disappeared into a distant point, so high it looked like the sun was its target.

Ryozo shaded her eyes with her hand, observed for a moment, then turned to walk away. I asked her back.

“…What was that?”

She stopped, and after a moment, replied.

“A welcome shot.”

“A welcome shot?”

“You’ll understand in an hour. For now, come with me to the director’s office. With the people who are coming, I think you might feel uncomfortable.”

Lie. Ryozo could face down an army of distinguished nobles on her own. She was plotting something else. But without knowing the details, all I could do was follow her.

In front of the office, one of the secretaries looked uneasy. When she saw us, she smiled in relief.

“Director! Ah, and you too, Heavenly Sword.”

“They’re here?”

“Yes. Two minutes ago. But since the director wasn’t here, they seemed a bit displeased.”

Ryozo clicked her tongue.

“Over two minutes…”

She complained, but it was her way of asserting hierarchy. And the visitors knew it, hence their annoyance.

“Let’s go in.”

When they opened the door, the scent of perfume filled the air. The three men in suits, with perfectly groomed hair, immediately stood up.

“Long time no see, Director. Oh! Heavenly Sword.”

“We heard you were hospitalized—how are you feeling? You are the pride of this nation, and…”

They started talking like little birds waiting to be fed. Quite different from what the secretary had described.

With a formal smile, Ryozo sat at the head of the table.

“I’m sorry for calling the busiest people in the country and making you come all the way here.”

“Please, if Joaquin Academy calls, one would come running even in a dream. Right, Minister?”

“Hahahaha. Exactly. In fact, I’m grateful that, in a situation like this national disaster, Joaquin is taking an actively cooperative stance. I can practically hear the public’s trust in the current government growing.”

“If you don’t mind, can we make this meeting public? The by-elections are soon.”

Ryozo tugged slightly at her cheek.

“Of course, Minister of Planning and Finance.”

The hair on my arms stood on end. They wouldn’t know it, but when Ryozo smiles like that, she’s almost always scheming something. Only I, sitting next to her, had an uneasy expression.

“Thank you very much! Then I’ll make some calls right away!”

The minister, excited, called somewhere. He was surely planning to spread the word everywhere. Several minutes passed and he still hadn’t hung up. Meanwhile, the prime minister and the others exchanged glances and smiles with unclear meaning.

Whether oblivious or not, Ryozo leaned down to look for something under the table. Soon after, she placed an object on top.

It was a chessboard. It was covered in stains from age and a thick layer of dust. It looked like it was from before the Media Poison era.

“Director, this is…”

“Prime Minister, you used to be a professional chess player, right?”

“Ah, yes, well…”

The prime minister, a little uncomfortable, scratched his cheek. He had few wrinkles for his rank—very young for the position.

“And famous, too.”

“Hahaha, not that much. I still had a lot to learn.” He was being humble.

Even I knew he had been a renowned professional chess player. He had won international tournaments single-handedly and raised the nation’s prestige. I still remembered seeing him crossing Olympic-daero with a garland of flowers. He used that fame to cement his political base.

“So… what’s with the chess?”

“The topic of conversation might get tense. I thought we could talk while playing a bit.”

“Director…!”

The prime minister’s eyes went wide, his nostrils even flaring. He looked touched that the director was accommodating him.

‘This guy looks ready to confess his love.’

Maybe aware of my gaze, he lightly bit his lip and began setting up the pieces.

“What’s your level?”

“It’s been about ten years since I last played.”

“Oh!”

Lie. In ten years together, I had never seen Ryozo play chess.

“Then no need for a handicap.”

“Handicap?” I asked.

The prime minister replied.

“It’s when some pieces are removed to favor the weaker player. It’s used more in Go, but sometimes in chess too.”

“I see…”

That was as far as my role went; better not draw more attention. My instincts told me this was a scene Ryozo had prepared.

“You go first.”

“Thank you.”

Ryozo moved the pieces one after another. The click-clack echoed in a steady rhythm. The Minister of Defense and the Minister of Planning watched intently.

Toc. With her bishop, Ryozo captured an enemy knight. The prime minister, after rubbing his mouth, countered with his rook. A pawn blocked its advance, forcing him to bring out his queen. Ryozo responded by moving her king. The rook moved again.

“Hmm…”

The prime minister let out a sigh.

“Castling.”

“Castling?” one of the ministers couldn’t help but ask.

“It’s when you move the king and the rook at the same time. It’s one of the few special moves in chess.”

“Is that difficult?”

“Of course. And against a professional, forget it.”

The ministers stared in awe. The prime minister looked at Ryozo.

“Not bad at all, Director.”

“Not really, it was just luck.”

Against all odds, the match was evenly balanced. A former elite professional player holding even with Ryozo? Incredible.

“There’s no luck in a match.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. Especially you, who never moves a piece without a reason.”

Ryozo slowly leaned back, resting her hand on the sofa’s arm.

“The queen, two squares diagonally.”

“You’re going to play while talking?”

“Yes, my back hurts.”

“…”

“If you like, you can do it this way too.”

The air in the room grew tense.

“One must move the pieces, but I prefer to use my hands.”

Ryozo propped her chin on her fist.

“Hoengseong.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Paju, Gumi, Jangseong, Haenam, Cheorwon, Taebaek.”

The prime minister froze.

“Those are army garrison zones, aren’t they, Minister?”

The Minister of Defense nodded reluctantly.

“Yes… but, how do you know that?”

“They were bases for Villain Union cells. I spent a week checking the entire country. Forgive my bluntness.”

“Ah, I see… Sorry, what?”

The minister’s face went pale.

“What a strange coincidence!”

“You just said there are no coincidences in chess.”

Ryozo tilted her head toward the prime minister, eyes fixed on him.

“Minister…”

“Yes… yes, Director.”

“Those areas were closed off by the government, weren’t they? The heroes withdrew.”

“Yes.”

“By whose order?”

“That…”

His gaze slid to the side.

“Ha… Mr. Prime Minister.”

“…”

“Prime Minister?”

“No.”

A denial? Hard to tell—he was a man with great self-control.

“I’m offended.”

He frowned and stood abruptly.

“You’re mistaken. Yes, I was the one who gave the order. But you’ve got it backwards. Those cells appeared afterward. Do you think I would make it that obvious?”

“I agree. Even if it doesn’t seem obvious…”

Ryozo’s voice turned cold and sharp.

“…You have to make it obvious.”

“Director! I won’t tolerate this insult…!”

At that moment—

Bzzzzzz!

The prime minister’s pocket buzzed. While capturing a knight, Ryozo murmured.

“Yu Sein has been traveling the country day and night. I don’t know if she’s slept this week.”

Bzzzzzz!

The phone vibrated in the silence. Ryozo moved her rook.

“Rachel also contributed. That’s how we found the approximate location of the Villain Union’s main base.”

“…How did you know?”

“Don’t ask me that. The broadcasters who criticized my husband—I noticed they all had something in common: they’d worked with you back in your TV days.”

“That’s not enough…”

“True. But recently, I saw they were all airing the same public service announcement. That falls under your office. I found it suspicious.”

The pieces moved again.

“Zones without heroes, villains, critical broadcasters—I mapped the web, and everything pointed to one place.”

“It’s not coincidence, it’s inevitability.”

“Now that I have my suspicions, what I need is proof. That’s where an expert friend comes in—Speedweapon. He’s with the Association, so he has undercover agents in every ministry. Including yours.”

Ryozo’s bishop advanced, tearing through pawns.

“They should already have the transactions. Figures, payments, and the places where they were made.”

Sweat stained the prime minister’s collar.

Bzzzzzz! The dark moisture reached his tie.

“Answer it.”

With a trembling hand, he put the phone to his ear. As soon as he did, a voice shouted—

— Hey, you son of a bitch! What the hell did you do to make an arrow like that fall here? This thing’s got mortar-level power! It’s the Arrow of the Heavenly Archer! You traitorous bastard! Fine, I’ll cut your ankles first, so get ready %@^%#%!

Thud.

The phone dropped, its screen cracking.

“The king must move so the other pieces can move.”

Ryozo’s queen stepped forward. With her other hand, she gripped me tightly.

“If the king only thinks of saving himself, his subjects die.”

The two kings met on the board.

“And so, the king ends up isolated and surrounded.”

Ryozo spoke without looking away from the board.

“Minister.”

“It’s all ready.”

The Minister of Planning and Finance allowed himself a faint smile. The prime minister, defeated, collapsed into his chair. He looked at the board—his pieces were trapped, while an enemy pawn had transformed into a bishop deep in his territory.

“…Checkmate.”

There was no escape.