I’d gained a mysterious power, but I had no idea what it was for or how to use it. I suppose that was a common trope when it came to ESP.
It was an immense force, but because it was such a unique skill, nobody knew how to handle it. I wasn't exactly an expert at palm healing, but it was something I’d been able to do from the start anyway.
My auto-recovery was busy again today, diligently scrubbing away my freckles and facial blemishes. For the time being, I decided my best course of action was to just leave the whole thing alone.
More importantly, how were we going to handle the Elder’s death? That was the real problem.
Naturally, Amada dumped the whole mess onto the police high command. I would’ve done the exact same thing in her shoes. The police leadership, in turn, fell into a total panic.
And for good reason! There was no way in hell you could just hand an Emperor over to the prosecutors!
The police immediately consulted with the Prosecutors' Office and the Courthouse—which is to say, they went crying to them for help. The Prosecutors' Office and the Courthouse didn't have the slightest clue how to handle a case like this either. They held a series of desperate discussions with the Ministry of Internal Affairs and the Imperial Household Agency, which was currently leaderless in the absence of a Grand Chamberlain.
The Ministry of Internal Affairs proposed a miraculous solution.
“Let’s just blame the entire thing on the Imperial Household Agency. That’s the easiest way out.”
Of course, our Wifey had a few words for them.
“It seems you lot have no desire to keep your lives, do you?”
The police officers couldn't bring themselves to say that Wifey was at fault, not even if their lives depended on it. She was popular, she treated even clones with fairness, and she was trying to fix a status quo that had rotted to the core. On top of that, she held absolute power. Even beyond all that, Wifey was ultimately a victim herself. Having her own biological father target her chastity was a special kind of hell. As one of the heroines from the original game, she probably wouldn't have actually become Maro’s toy, but still...
Wait, was there a possibility she would have ended up as Prince Walter’s wife? Just the thought of that pissed me off.
Anyway, that was fine. The real issue was the whereabouts of the illegal clone Grand Chamberlain. The fact that he didn't seem to be underestimating me like the Duke Association had was what made him scary. If he truly was a pawn of the Zork, we were in trouble.
In the middle of all this, it was officially announced that Wifey’s ascension as Emperor had been finalized.
“I promise to settle the sins committed by past Emperors, to face our history, to unite all of you, and to bring victory to our future! Glory to the Empire!”
The air shook with thunderous applause and roars of praise. While some voices criticized her for being an underage woman, she had achieved a string of victories in the war against the Zork and had even triumphed over the Duke Association. The man supporting her was me—the soldier the public overestimated as the strongest warrior in existence. Between the two of us, we didn't give anyone room to complain about our military might. Well, mostly it was the people around us making sure of that.
As for administrative competence, Prince Thomas being placed under her was a godsend. The good-natured Big Brother Thomas won over the civil officials in the blink of an eye. The fact that the troublesome old guard had been wiped out certainly helped, but even so, his political maneuvering was legendary.
Public Security also managed to bring the police into the fold—a group that had been largely ignored because they were neutral, or rather, because they didn't hold much actual power. Melissa’s Papa’s connections were paying off in spades.
For some reason, Amada ended up being permanently stationed as the officer in charge of our security.
“Amada-san... we’re besties for life!”
“Captain! Hiss!”
She hissed at me like a threatened animal, but we were still besties. It was already too late for her, no matter how stubbornly she tried to refuse. Amada’s promotion to Senior Superintendent had already been unofficially confirmed.
In military terms, that’s about the rank of a Major, I think? Even the police wanted a direct line to communicate with me and Wifey. At this stage, Amada was practically guaranteed to be the future head of the police—provided she survived long enough!
Now, there were a mountain of rituals to get through before Wifey could formally become Emperor. This was an ancient nation, and they were incredibly pedantic about that kind of thing. I expected the whole process would take about half a year.
First up was the Ritual for the Requiem of the Former Emperor. It was basically a ceremony to say, “You managed to be the Emperor for a long time! You did a great job! GG.”
The Eastern European Loli wore traditional clothing that looked somewhat like a wafuku. Maybe it was a knock-off of a twelve-layered robe? It wasn't exactly “gaming” style, but it felt slightly off. You get what I mean... the fact that I can't describe the details clearly means that in my previous life, I didn't know the first thing about these kinds of rituals. I was completely out of my depth!
Wifey was clearly a bit ticked off. She probably felt like Oda Nobunaga when he threw incense at his father’s memorial tablet. Most of the stress Wifey was currently carrying came from having to clean up the messes Maro had left behind. But she endured it. Good girl, Wifey.
Once the ritual was over, Wifey headed to a hotel she’d rented within the Inner Palace. Since I was heading back to the dormitory, we parted ways there.
I changed into my Officer Academy Tracksuit and sat in the cafeteria among the idiot boys, eating frozen food. People of the Empire, look! The Lord Groom of the next Emperor eats exactly what you do!
Apparently, this did wonders for my public image. The news that I was living in the boys’ dormitory at the Imperial Officer Academy had spread everywhere. Reporters had come to interview me, and when they saw I was actually eating the same meals as everyone else, they ended up praising me. Perhaps because of the Empire’s conscription system, the public seemed to love it, even without any added propaganda. I even made a point to show myself cooking portable rations during training.
“The oshiruko is ready, boys!”
I used tongs to pull the cans I’d boiled in a pot and set them on trays. I sat down with the guys to eat the cans of oshiruko that the manufacturer had donated in bulk. For some reason, this was being filmed too. From the company's perspective, it was a great promotion. For us, it was a big help because it saved us money on food. Frozen food in the cafeteria usually comes out of our own pockets.
“Chili con carne is done!”
“Right on.”
One of the boys brought over the heated cans. We didn't care about food pairings or whether the flavors matched. To fill the black-hole-like stomachs of teenage boys doing manual labor, quantity was the only metric that mattered.
“We’ve got meatball spaghetti cans boiling over here!”
Everyone pooled their cans together. If Kevin had been here, he would’ve said, “Geez, you guys need to eat some fruit too. Fine, I’ll make something for you,” but Kevin had been moved to the girls' dormitory. There were only morons here. A purely brown menu was our destiny.
I opened a can of baby corn, dumped it on a plate, and smothered it in mayonnaise. Yes, this was justice.
“Captain Kamishiro! Which one is your favorite?” a reporter asked.
“Actually, I’m a huge fan of baby corn. Oh, but these meatballs are great too.”
“For a Duke, you have very common tastes!”
“Well, my family might be a Ducal House now, but until recently, my home planet was a place that had nothing but an Agricultural Cooperative. My brilliant brother has been developing it rapidly, but I’d never even stepped foot in a high-end restaurant until I got married.”
“I see. We’ve also heard that you and Lady Veronica haven't officially held a wedding ceremony yet.”
“I wish I had a bit more merit to my name... I’ve finally made Captain and have a bit of an income now, but until the period of mourning is over, it’s a bit difficult. Someday, I want to pay for a ceremony with the money I’ve earned myself.”
I just spun whatever random stories came to mind. I was basically just talking nonsense to get through the interview, but my popularity skyrocketed because of it. I even started getting letters of support. By the time the program aired, the public had firmly labeled me as a self-made man who’d seen his share of hardships. Honestly, compared to the colony citizens, I was practically a pampered prince.
Anyway, you’d think things could just stay peaceful for a while. You’d think I could just leave the cleanup to Amada and stay out of it. But the Duke Association, the Zork, and those illegal clones weren't about to let me go.
It happened just a few days later. That was when the intel about an underground organization's hideout first crossed my desk.