The translation release of Monthly Maa crashed the Galactic Empire's servers.
I know it sounds unbelievable, but they really crashed.
It was a baffling publication, born simply because someone wanted to write serious scientific articles, only to end up packaging them as an occult magazine.
In short, a guidebook.
Complete with an occult map of Repsitore.
Since they didn't believe in gods in the first place, it had plenty of stories about the terrors of humanity, but zero power spots.
And yet, it sold like crazy.
The serious specialized magazine that was meant to be the main event got dragged down in the server crash as well.
Turns out everyone was interested in unknown technology...
I honestly thought only university students or graduate students would buy it.
I never imagined even Maa would sell that much.
So, caving to the atmosphere demanding a substitute, I ended up translating Lepsitolian literature as well.
Perhaps because corporations had run rampant doing whatever they pleased until recently, the selection was packed with proletarian literature.
On top of that, it featured an overwhelmingly gritty, hard-boiled tone.
...I see, so this is the cultural vibe of Repsitore.
The fact that they normally would have been treated as enemies of the state and corporations, yet were left alone simply because "it sells, so who cares," offered a glimpse into the Lepsitolians' abnormally strong mentality.
I really do think those guys are ridiculously capable.
This resonated deeply with the youth in the aftermath of the Zork War.
No, corporations aren't the enemy here.
Wifey is the type to strictly uphold the law, after all.
Still, the trope of gritting one's teeth and surviving in a hopeless world struck a chord, especially with the younger generation.
The youth of the Galactic Empire had all experienced the war to some degree.
Even my first elder brother, a science and engineering graduate student, fought on our home soil.
After the battle at the Imperial Capital, he scrambled to maintain public order as a mandatory police officer in lieu of regular conscription.
Though he was a science and engineering graduate student serving as an officer on draft exemption—and only working part-time night shifts at that.
Even so, my eldest brother had survived his share of close calls.
During late-night patrols in the Imperial Capital when public safety temporarily plummeted, he nearly got stabbed about three times, or so I heard.
The reason our House Kamishiro avoided public reproach was that Big Brother Sam had properly protected our home territory, while I fought my way across the battlefields.
Furthermore, Big Brother Sam, who had properly defended our territory, became the head of house as a marquis.
To anyone who knew the inner workings, it was practically a usurpation, but on the surface, it looked like a peaceful transition of power.
My eldest brother had put his life on the line far more than the average citizen of the Imperial Capital.
Even so, there were still people who made snide remarks from time to time.
Is he truly worthy of being the Imperial Groom?
Is he really fit to be the King of Chronos?
Should House Kamishiro's blood really be introduced into the Imperial Family?
There was still deep-seated opposition regarding those points.
Though it was practically all conspiracy theories.
Some even claimed that I was already dead and that someone else was wearing a mask in my place.
Are they idiot boys or what?
The only things I wear are a ghillie suit and cats.
Whoops, I got sidetracked.
At any rate, dark stories were a massive hit.
It wasn't a sign that the Empire was headed for a bleak future.
Precisely because hope was finally visible in the present, people wanted to share the sentiment of "man, those were rough times."
It was probably similar to how Osamu Dazai's No Longer Human resonates with adolescent boys.
In any case, it sold like mad, and since a digital release alone wasn't enough, a print version was published too.
That sold like crazy as well.
I felt like... I had pressed a switch that never should have been touched.
Well, literature from Chronos and Latania was already selling well, so there were warning signs...
Even so, this was way too much.
And that brought about the problem of a translator shortage.
There weren't enough people capable of refining the machine-translated text into something readable.
The only people who'd want to read the raw originals were researchers.
In the end, we'll just have to increase the number of exchange students.
I really don't want to send students to study abroad in Repsitore, though.
People are going to die.
Someone will definitely die.
...Whatever, let it be at their own risk: "Repsitore is a lawless wasteland. Proceed if you dare."
And... sent.
Now that I've gotten some work done, time to go get some exercise.
When I arrived at the dojo, I was surrounded by the smiling disciples of the Kamishiro-style...
"Well, well, His Majesty has arrived~"
I was greeted by Katori-sensei wearing an utterly wicked grin.
He was still wearing a corset.
It seemed he was sticking strictly to verbal instruction.
Besides, his voice was quiet, probably because speaking loudly hurt.
"Well then, Your Majesty. I'll leave the instruction to you."
"Ehh, I'm not skilled enough to be teaching people yet."
"Shut up, this is good experience too."
Katori-sensei didn't have much energy.
That was likely due to the painkillers as well.
He got hurt for my sake.
I should let him rest.
"Shall we do some form training, then?"
And so, we went through form training.
Once we finished the routines, it was question time.
A soldier from the Chronos palace guard raised his hand.
"What are your thoughts on one-handed swords?"
"They're scary, aren't they~"
The standard was a two-handed sword, but those with less physical strength often used one-handed swords.
It was about forty centimeters shorter than a katana, but it was lighter and much easier to handle.
And that maneuverability was what made it a pain.
"Since we're on the subject, want to try one-handed swords?"
"Oss!"
Not that I understood them all that deeply, though.
"A one-handed sword doesn't slip out easily, so the basic grip is holding it between your index finger and thumb. Keep your wrist relaxed, like this."
I twirled it around.
"In a direct clash, wouldn't a two-handed sword have the advantage?"
"You don't clash directly. If I were facing a two-handed sword, I'd use something like this."
I pulled out a buckler.
The one I borrowed from Rikochi.
"See, the shield is round. When you parry with this, the blow slides right off."
I had him strike at me to demonstrate.
The blade slid away.
"Of course, you don't take it head-on. Deflect the attack, break their stance the moment they ready their guard, punch them to halt their movement. You make full use of tricks like that."
As I spoke, I cut at his wrist.
The blade was blunted, so it was safe.
"Then, the moment they're off balance, you slice their wrist like this. Naturally, they'd be wearing gauntlets in real combat, though."
"N-Ngh!"
He swung at me with the two-handed sword, so I parried upward with the shield.
"Right here, smack. Break their fingers."
The disciples stirred with murmurs.
"Sure, things don't always go smoothly like in the forms. That's where sparring experience comes in~. Even without breaking their fingers, you can entangle their arm here, and—hup!"
I threw him and leveled the sword's point right at his neck.
There was no need for a flashy throw.
Just disrupting their balance enough to drop them to a knee and leveling your sword at them was plenty.
I mean, seriously, soldiers!
You were taught this, weren't you?!
You only know the basic forms?
This is just applying the forms, damn it!
"Something like that. Just to be clear, don't fall back on defense. You have to keep attacking to break their posture in advance. That applies to feints in general. Number of moves is key. So, let's try practicing alternating between high and low strikes."
Hahahahaha.
For some reason, this ultra-half-assed lecture earned rave reviews, drawing an even bigger flood of disciples.
How did it come to this!