News of my wife’s entry into the Imperial Succession Race spread to every corner of the galaxy.
Bulletins flashed incessantly, accompanied by a flood of rumors of dubious authenticity. I was flustered by the misinformation, but my wife remained perfectly composed.
"Let them say what they want," she said coolly.
Predictably, several articles were blatant puff pieces for Walter. They used buzzwords like "fresh leadership," "attuned to the bureaucracy," and "gentle personality."
A gentle personality?
"How is a guy that bottom-tier so popular?" I asked. Had the media’s collective brain finally rotted away?
"It is because he will not change a single thing," Veronica explained. "From the perspective of the civil officials, life is better if there is no change to their routine. It does not matter to them what Brother Walter does in his private life—even if it is incest."
"Even if we lose the war?" I asked. If my wife ever sided with Walter, I’d desert her without a second thought. I’d even become a pawn for the Zork.
"They do not even consider the possibility of losing. Even now, they believe to their core that their comfortable lives will never change. Their perception will not shift until the very moment they are devoured by a Zork."
"Are they actually stupid?"
"No, they are quite capable. They have simply over-adapted to the life of a civil official. They view the world through the narrow lens of their own professional duties."
"Will you purge them once you become Emperor?"
"How foolish. A purge can wait until they actually become a nuisance. If they are merely operating within the scope of their assigned work, I shall leave them be."
It was a remarkably leisurely perspective for a war fought over the threat of extinction. I suppose civil officials were truly graceful creatures. After all, it was the soldiers and commoners who died first. In the grand order of death, the bureaucrats would surely be last. I wouldn't mind a lifestyle like that myself.
By the way, the First-Class Civil Official Recruitment Exam, the gatekeeper to such power, was conducted in the traditional Imperial Examination style. The questions were so dense I couldn't even understand what they were asking. It was harder than the bar exam. Totally impossible for me.
Being a man of simpler intellect, I returned to watching the news. This time, the focus shifted to my wife.
[The dark horse of the Imperial Succession struggle is Her Highness Veronica. Of the three leading candidates, she is the only one who is married...]
"They aren't mentioning the important parts," I noted.
"That is because my backing comes from the military," she replied. "The military will not respond to interviews unless they go through public relations. This is likely the media’s petty retaliation."
"How small-minded! Their personal caliber is pathetic!"
"Do you know, Lord Groom? Ninety percent of the world is made of people with small calibers."
"That’s a scary thought."
"Indeed. People like you, who would forgive someone for putting a hole in your stomach, are a very small minority."
She was likely referring to Kevin. His chest had grown so large it wasn't even a joke anymore, and it wasn't something he could control. Since I’d teased him so much already, I was starting to think it was time to forgive him.
"Is that really how people are?" I asked.
"That is exactly how they are."
Humans were terrifying.
The next day, Thomas arrived at the hotel in a limousine. He hadn't bothered with a reservation. Thomas’s Imperial Guard had faces just as thuggish as our own. I hadn't seen Walter’s guard since they stayed outside the evening party, but seeing these hardened soldier faces actually felt somewhat reassuring.
"Brother! What brings you here?"
My wife, who had hurriedly changed out of her loungewear, went out to greet him.
"Ah, Veronica! Walter beat me to the punch, but I had been wanting to have a talk as well."
Thomas was a man with an incredible "protagonist aura," complete with long blonde hair. He was wearing a military uniform, likely because he was heading to the front soon. It suited him perfectly—no doubt the work of the court ladies. It was strange how the children of a Maro were always so handsome, even though their father was a Maro himself.
"Veronica. More importantly, introduce me to him. I've heard he’s a Hero!"
Thomas was far more cheerful and friendly than Walter. He had an approachable personality that clearly made him popular with the nobility.
"This is my husband, Leo Kamishiro."
"I am Thomas," he said, giving me a refreshing smile. "Please, take good care of my sister."
His "extrovert aura" was so powerful I felt like I might melt.
"Brother-in-law. It is a pleasure to meet you," I said, bowing my head.
"Hahaha! My brother-in-law! No need for such formalities! Come, let’s talk inside!"
With Walter, an exchange like that would have earned me a scoff, but Thomas didn't make me feel uncomfortable at all.
We held the meeting in the dining hall. Coffee was served. The price was shocking—a single cup cost my entire monthly salary. My hands still trembled whenever I picked it up. Cakes and cookies topped with real gold leaf were brought out as well. As I sat nervously before the overwhelmingly expensive sweets, Thomas got straight to the point.
"Listen. I wouldn't mind if Veronica became the Emperor."
"...Brother, what do you mean by that?" Veronica asked.
"I mean that it could be me or it could be you. But Walter is out of the question. That man has no intention of winning the war or carrying out the Inner Palace Reform."
"Does that mean we are aiming for the same goal, Brother?"
"There will be disputes over the details, I'm sure. But you will provide opportunities for proper discussion, won't you? If so, I have no problem."
"Why do you say Brother Walter is no good?"
"He underestimates the Zork," Thomas said, his expression darkening. "He thinks they are intelligent life forms that move based on the same greed as himself—beings he can negotiate with. That is a fantasy. They are life forms with a completely different technological lineage. Communication is impossible. Since there is no negotiation, it is simply a matter of kill or be killed."
"I agree," I chimed in. "While some individuals seem capable of speech, as a whole, they are creatures we must fight to the death."
Thank goodness. Thomas was sane.
"That is why we must unite," Thomas continued. "We must gather soldiers, hand them over to competent commanders, and protect the territories of the nobles and the lives of our citizens. In the face of that, a struggle over the succession is just a waste of time."
"Then you are not telling me to give up on the throne?" Veronica asked.
"Of course not. To be honest... I will likely fail in this upcoming expedition. Leo, I don't think I can do what you do. If that is the case, it is my responsibility to yield to Veronica, who has a proven track record."
"You're quite pessimistic," I noted.
"Yeah. The nobles at the heart of this expedition don't understand the reality. They're still talking in their sleep about using beam weapons as their primary armament."
Thomas could see the truth, but he didn't have the power to bend the will of the high-ranking nobility. He was just unlucky.
"I have been ordered to Planet Sanctuary. They say the central hub of the Zork has been located there."
"An operation to strike the core directly?"
"It sounds good on paper, but it’s a reckless suicide mission. It won't end well. Veronica, I command you to liberate planets as the representative of the nobility. I am entrusting you with the Local Noble Alliance Army commanded by Baron Ohno."
"Baron Ohno?" she asked. It was a name I didn't recognize.
"The lord of a planet far from the Capital. He was quick to evacuate his people and survived by leading other nobles in guerrilla warfare. However, he is on terrible terms with the high-ranking nobles..."
Ah... I see. So he’d been blacklisted from the main expedition.
My wife looked at Thomas. "Understood. Please take care of yourself, Brother."
"Hahaha! If my luck is bad, I’ll just die! I'm counting on you!"
With that, Thomas saw himself out. He was a man who had clearly made his peace with his fate.
"I actually like Brother Thomas," I said. Where did those Maro genes go?
"I have not spoken with him much until now," Veronica agreed. "But I feel the same."
It always left a bad taste in my mouth when the good guys were forced to draw the short straw.