My name was Karen.
I had been assigned a title I still didn’t quite understand: Special Governor of Parcion.
In this role, I served as the subordinate to Lady Claire, the First Consort of Chronos and the Dictator of Parcion.
I’d wanted to resign… but was I allowed? No? Oh, I see.
The public often whispered that I was the King of Chronos’s woman, but that was a complete and utter misunderstanding—the kind where I’d plead for people to stop before I died of embarrassment.
It wasn't a question of preference, like him being younger or shorter than me, or me preferring someone more "mature." It was simply that even if I had a dozen lives, they wouldn't be enough to survive being involved with him. Being the President of Lepsitol was hazardous enough, but adding the role of Special Governor of Parcion? That was just impossible!
I had already been targeted for assassination more than twenty times.
Parcion was an incredibly troublesome—no, difficult nation. Their prevailing wisdom was that the citizenry was better off being "sturdy and stupid." They actually said that with straight faces.
In practice, Lepsitol didn't have to care about administration costs, and Parcion didn't have to worry about labor costs. We were two nations growing together in a symbiotic—if questionable—way. By essentially helping each other fudge the accounting, we maintained the illusion of healthy economic growth.
We kept demand high by stimulating desires with booze, drugs, and carnal pleasures. The high-ranking officials of Parcion lived much the same way. However, our house-of-cards economy finally collapsed under the weight of parasites and food contamination issues, leading to our annexation by Chronos.
Or rather, those who had managed to stay sane sought protection from Chronos. To take responsibility for that choice, the former revolutionary force and I were weeping as we struggled through our daily work.
The bad debt problem was finally taken out of my hands when Chronos established the Lepsitol Economic Monitoring Committee. By that point, I’d been targeted for assassination about ten times. Yes, ten. It was a cycle of purge after purge—endless days of seppuku, decapitations, and crucifixions. Just when I thought I was finally released from the terror of death, I was ordered to clean up Parcion as well.
At night, I cried alone.
Parcion was a nation with even deeper darkness. To explain it crudely, a tiny fraction of the ultra-elite privileged class ran the country while the rest were treated as livestock—"economic animals" whose lives ended with mandatory euthanasia upon retirement.
Furthermore, the state encouraged citizens to report on one another, so few lived long enough to even reach retirement. Betrayal within families was commonplace; the sight of a child denouncing their parents was a regular occurrence. In Parcion, even your family was the enemy.
As a result, the citizens were silent and listless. They only did exactly what they were told, and the quality of their work was abysmal. Anyone excellent was quickly accused and executed. Yet, to them, this was the only world they knew. They found a twisted sort of happiness in it. It was a nation for the weak, by the weak.
While we held them in contempt, we had associated with them for years, accepting that was just how they were. But His Majesty Leo simply couldn't comprehend any of this. He was far too strong, both as a person and an individual. He was a being of light, so to speak. He was someone who lived in total freedom, bound only by his own responsibilities and social ties.
He was different from us in every way. I found myself in complete agreement with my friend Kyoko's sentiment: "Leo-kun is so sparkly, it's annoying!" To us, he was a presence that was simply too dazzling.
Even now, he completely ignored the grumbling of the citizens and pushed through his construction projects. While restoring the Old Town, he provided the people with civilized housing. His Majesty Leo claimed he "messed up the communication," but the result would likely have been the same regardless. The citizens actually craved orders and coercion.
And so, I put on my own helmet for an on-site inspection. I’d grown used to wearing safety shoes with anti-slip fibers. Chronos and the Galactic Empire were obsessively strict about safety. If you tried to walk onto a project site in designer high heels, you’d get a proper earful. Trust me, I lost that battle twice.
I felt like I finally understood why the Galactic Empire people got along so well with the Ogre God Nation people and the Latarnians.
"Lady Karen. Regarding the race venue..."
A Chronosian site foreman explained the details to me while indicating the blueprints. Our company, Mike & Hammer Co., was competing to provide vehicles for the race. Even as the lowliest branch of the Kamishiro Group, we had to show off Lepsitol’s true grit, or we’d lose our status as subcontractors.
This time, the race was set on a beginner course. We had been strictly ordered to prioritize safety. Still, seeing racing cars and motorcycles prepared to roar through the Old Town Area was enough to get anyone’s heart pumping, regardless of gender.
"Please proceed exactly as planned. Lord Leo said that exceeding the budget is fine as long as it's safe. See to it."
"I shall make it a strict order!"
Phew. Another task finished. If I didn't visit regularly, the Lepsitolian workers would start cutting corners. The Chronosian foreman was going to have a difficult time with them.
The maintenance of the Old Town was nearly complete, and it was a magnificent piece of work. Next was the land for the rally. I called it "land," but it was really just a wasteland. Apparently, it was a site where chemical warfare had been conducted in the past. They had purified it by repurposing technology used in the Zork War. Once the insect population increased, they planned to attempt a massive greening project.
When I arrived at the race venue, an off-road vehicle pulled up. A man wearing a helmet and a racing suit stepped out. It was Lord Isono.
"Yah-hoo. Karen-chan."
I should mention that Lord Isono was younger than me, yet he insisted on calling me "-chan." It made me feel like a fresh-out-of-college teacher dealing with a cheeky student. It was a bit irritating.
"Lord Isono, if you keep calling me that, I’ll tell your wife."
"Ah, stop! Please, I'm begging you!" he cried, immediately panicking. Lord Isono was famously devoted to his wife.
"This car is amazing!" he exclaimed, looking at our vehicle. It was covered in sponsor logos, yet the design remained sleek and beautiful. It was our company's pride and joy.
"We built it using the very best of our technology," I said proudly.
"Won't you sell me one exactly like it?"
I won! A smile spread across my face. If Lord Isono, a renowned collector of sports cars, wanted one, then victory was at hand. The era of Mike & Hammer was finally coming.
"I shall have one prepared for you immediately," I replied with a beaming smile.
"By the way, where's Leo?"
"I heard he was out riding."
Apparently, he was riding a Galactic Empire American bike, a two-wheeled vehicle that wasn't even meant for racing. After that, he was supposedly going to do a run on his usual scooter, followed by a trip on a bicycle. He was a true hands-on perfectionist. I felt sorry for the Imperial Guard Knights who were being dragged along with him.
In this way, around the time I learned how to properly attach a safety line while being yelled at by the foreman, the race schedule was finally finalized.