The Academy’s Sashimi Sword Master — Chapter 387: Destiny (6)

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.⁠‌