I watched Wifey’s ceremony from Planet Sanctuary.
The dining hall was packed to the rafters.
The soldiers who had stayed behind already knew what was about to be announced. In fact, they hadn't even been placed under a gag order; they were left to their own devices. Consequently, rumors about invaders from outer space were spreading through the internet like gospel.
However, since even the Zork were considered occult entities, the concept of an enemy from outer space was simply beyond comprehension for most people. No one took it seriously. Instead, they were more interested in the soaring stock prices and which planets to visit during the upcoming holidays.
Back home in the Kamishiro Territory, excitement was building over newly discovered hot springs and wild animals that were inexplicably friendly toward humans.
The number of tourists was reportedly hundreds of times higher than the previous year.
Due to the extreme labor shortage, the house arrest of my father and first elder brother was completely lifted. They were now working at a facility that combined lord-managed lodgings, a souvenir shop, a tourism market, and hot springs.
Apparently, it was a project commissioned by the Imperial Military Mutual Aid Association.
Despite my father and brother possessing the “god of poverty” attribute, business was unnervingly good—so much so that getting a reservation was nearly impossible. As the holidays approached, the booking site would crash under the load.
A bank had even reached out with an aggressive proposal to open a second location!
I had no idea why they’d been drowning in debt until now. Crushing the Duke Association was worth it for this alone.
Oh right, Claire’s family home had also undergone a staggering transformation.
The Duke Association used to control distribution giants like supermarkets and drugstores, as well as restaurant chains, gyms, and even cram schools. They also owned banks, major non-life insurance companies, and trading companies.
When their business failed after incurring the citizens' wrath, everything was dumped on us. Apparently, no one else could afford to buy them out.
Normally, one would despair at the burden, but that’s where Claire-san shone.
She contacted the families of the students from the officer academy, the university division, and the graduate school, offering them management roles as part of the “Kamishiro Clan.”
Consequently, the theme park business went to Melissa’s family, who had the necessary expertise. Isono, Nakajima, Ren, Nina-san... we utilized every connection we had.
The trading company was offloaded to one belonging to Wifey’s associates. You’re part of the Kamishiro Clan now too!
At a glance, it might look like a new Duke Association was rising, but we weren't stingy like they were. Our circle of associates was vast, making it impossible for a single Duke-type to monopolize the profits.
The old guard only managed that by spending centuries tightening their grip on the Empire. We, however, delegated to barons, viscounts, and even commoners with management talent. The truth was, it would have been physically impossible for us to handle it alone.
While the public buzzed over the economic growth from the normalization of the Imperial economy, the threat from outer space was relegated to gossip sections in the back of the news.
The ceremony began.
Wifey delivered her speech in the Imperial Family ceremonial uniform. Simultaneously, a news flash broke—it had all been carefully timed.
[Threat from Outer Space Approaches. Imperial Space Marines to Launch Outer Space Expedition.]
The war journalists contacted their headquarters. Our pre-recorded interviews were cleared for release.
I expected the citizens—who had been riding the high of victory—to panic, but they didn't. They were ready.
Emboldened by a winning streak, the public remained perfectly calm. I thought stock prices would plummet, but the news had already been priced in. In fact, they saw the expansion into outer space as a bullish sign.
You’ve got to be kidding me...
Work was already underway on a new model ship. Since it was heading into deep space, the plan was to design the battleship itself as a mobile fortress. This time, we were bringing beam weapons along. The pieces for war were falling into place.
Things got chaotic after the ceremony ended. Media from across the galaxy swarmed our lodgings. Fortunately, Brother-in-law Thomas handled them; a media-savvy brother-in-law is a treasure. Still, quite a few tried to sneak inside to interview me.
“Major Leo Kamishiro! A word on outer space!” one shouted.
“Sure, here’s one: Whack!”
Melissa brained him with a wooden sword. As the military police hauled the reporter away, I decided one comment wouldn't hurt.
I knelt beside the man while he was pinned to the floor.
“Listen, Reporter-san. Regarding outer space: if there are enemies, we’ll fight. There is no escape. I am the head of the Grand Duke Kamishiro House; I have to protect the Emperor and my family.”
The reporter, a man old enough to be a grandfather, sized me up. He was likely a big name in the industry, but I didn't care if he liked me or not.
“Are you not afraid?” he asked arrogantly.
“I’m terrified, sir. But I won't run. Not unless the military fires me.”
It was a secret that I’d originally planned to bolt.
The old man stood up and, to my surprise, bowed to me.
“Hmph... My apologies. I was out of line.”
He left quietly once the MP verified his identity. I wonder what that was about?
A few days later, a letter of apology arrived from a major publishing house I actually recognized. Bundled with it was a sample copy of a weekly magazine.
[Major Leo Kamishiro: “I’m terrified, sir. But I won't run. Not unless I'm fired from the military.”]
They printed it exactly as I’d said. The article was an objective, detailed summary of my exploits. It covered everything: my wives, the guys like Edy, Isono, and Nakajima, and the other girls.
Since there hadn't been a definitive source on us before, it sold like wildfire. The article itself was critical, claiming: “While we acknowledge Leo Kamishiro is a hero, sending a boy to the battlefield is a blunder.”
Exactly! Keep writing that! If possible, criticize the overproduction of strawberries, tomatoes, and water spinach too!
I worried I’d become a meme because of that article, but instead, my popularity soared. When a photo of One-oh-one as the Count of the Republic Territory went public, her popularity exploded instantly. Since she wasn't an enemy anymore, people felt safe rooting for her.
Kevin, now the head of a branch family with several planets, was being treated like an idol. Both were busy hiding from the press.
Meanwhile, it was time for me to fulfill a promise: the parfait for One-oh-one. Wifey had even sent the shop staff over.
Heh heh heh. Come, eat your fill!