First, I headed over to Berger-san’s place.
He was there with Alyssa and Edge.
Those two had finally tied the knot, hadn't they? I heard they’d taken a long leave of absence recently to head back to their home planet for the wedding.
Returning to your home world—which you now held as a personal fief—to get married... now that was the definition of a success story.
Apparently, it wasn't a gaudy, high-society event like you’d see in the Galactic Empire. It was a more intimate affair, centered on the idea of their two families becoming one.
That was all well and good, but when I suggested we hold another ceremony in the Empire since they were part of my core staff, they both turned me down with terrifyingly serious expressions. Edge even threatened that if I tried, he’d quit and move back to his parents' place for good. I dropped the subject immediately.
According to them, when they arrived at the planet, the place had been developed so aggressively that a massive shopping mall had already been built. They said it didn't even look like the same world anymore.
Still, it seemed they managed to hold the wedding in the local style. Thanks to the massive influx of subsidies, the elderly residents now spent their days lining up at either the hospital or the pachinko parlor. Even the former king was reportedly hitting the pachinko machines on weekdays and the horse racing tracks on weekends.
I felt a twinge of guilt, so I offered a quiet, "I'm sorry."
"It is what it is..." Edge replied. His expression was that of a man who had truly grown up and accepted the weight of the world.
I really was sorry. And I should probably apologize in advance, too—because next year, the Kamishiro Group was scheduled to open a powerboat racing track and a car racing track on that same planet.
They were properly regulated public venues, of course. I even had Edge-kun’s letter of approval right here.
Ah, look at that. He’d already given up. Yeah. My bad, buddy.
Anyway, back to Berger-san. He had been busy researching the Zen God Race.
"Hey there," I called out.
"If it isn't the King himself. It's a rare treat to see you and Edge together like this," Berger said, his tone as airy and polite as ever.
Edge made a complicated face again. Since he was a man of few words, Alyssa spoke up to explain their presence.
"We were planning to wait until Berger-san finished his analysis to report, but we actually discovered some ruins while we were clearing the site for the new race track."
"Wait, what?"
I took the documents from her.
This was bad. It was an incident report from the construction company, complete with photos of the ruins and handwritten notes.
"This is definitely one of those things you're not supposed to break!" I exclaimed.
"We know. That's why the construction is currently on hold."
"Right. Uh, give me a second."
"There's no need to rush, Your Majesty," Berger added. "It hasn't been confirmed as a Zen God Race site just yet."
That was true. Edge and Alyssa’s home world existed in a completely different technological bracket, after all.
"Given the circumstances, I have my knights and the village locals guarding the perimeter," Edge said, his voice dripping with bitterness.
He probably hated the idea of the auto race track to begin with. But the thing was, in a self-sufficient settlement like that, the only way to forcibly jumpstart the economy was through factories and gambling. You let them earn a living at the factory, and then you gave them a place to spend that money on cheap entertainment.
I could have gone with nightlife establishments, but that usually caused too much friction with the local population. In that regard, horse racing helped train riders. Powerboats and car racing provided an incentive for people to get their licenses. Whether they ended up as fishermen, farmers, or factory workers, modern production demanded mobility. They needed to know how to drive for transport.
Eventually, I wanted to train pilots for planes and spaceships, which was an expensive endeavor. Using the officer academy was the shortest path for that. And every bit of it was funded by public money. Licensing was free.
The moment a backwater world made contact with the outside, becoming dependent on subsidies was practically inevitable. And once a region was hooked on that money, they had no choice but to follow the Imperial Capital's lead.
That very structure was what made Wifey’s power base so unshakeable. The mechanisms of the world were truly well-crafted.
"Berger-san, is there any way to break a region's dependency on public funds?" I asked.
"Perhaps you should ask a Galactic Empire economist that question?"
"Fair point!"
Well, if people ended up being miserable, the Fairy would probably tweak things behind the scenes. Since I hadn't heard any major complaints, I assumed they were satisfied, even if they had a few gripes.
Berger-san smiled at me. "Now, as for my analysis, Your Majesty... it is a ninety percent certainty that these are Zen God Race ruins."
"I knew it!"
I knew that was where this was going! I immediately contacted Wifey.
"Wifey!"
"What is it, Lord Groom?" she answered, looking half-asleep in her usual jersey. It looked like I’d interrupted a nap.
"They found Zen God Race ruins on Edge's home planet!"
"Pfft! W-what did you say?!" Her eyes snapped wide open.
"Alyssa, what's the risk level?" I asked, letting her handle the report since she was much quicker on her feet in conversation.
"The local military is on high alert, but everything seems stable for now," she reported.
"B-B-B-Berger! What is your assessment?" Wifey stammered, clearly flustered.
I couldn't blame her. She could only afford to stay here in Chronos because the Empire was stable.
"It appears to be a dormant site," Berger explained. "The signage indicates it was a mine that was closed to entry."
"What about security drones or robots?"
"We've surveyed the area with drones, and there's no sign of automated defenses."
So it was likely just a civilian mining operation from that era.
"For now, I'll issue an order to the Kamishiro Group to relocate the race track project," I said, submitting the digital paperwork.
"I shall issue a royal decree to the same effect," Wifey added.
A little joint effort between husband and wife.
"I'll also dispatch a team from the National Army and the university for a formal investigation. Berger, what about you? Are you going?"
"Abandoned mines aren't exactly a rarity. Unless they find something truly unique... well, I suppose we'll see. What about you, Kachiya-kun?"
"I think I'll stay here for now," Kachiya-kun replied. "I'm more likely to run into a living member of the Zen God Race if I stick close to the King."
And so, another weight was added to my shoulders. The meeting wrapped up there.
Afterward, I went to spar with Melissa and Saijo-kun to work off some steam.
"Look, Captain," Melissa said as we wiped away our sweat. "Your foundation is in competitive martial arts, right? We've just adapted our skills for competition, but the core of what we do is different."
"It's not even competitive martial arts," I countered. "I just piece together techniques I picked up in actual life-or-death fights."
"That adaptability of yours is what's monster-like," she said. "Usually, it takes a style ten years just to adapt to a specific competitive format."
"But you still practice zanshin, don't you?" Saijo-kun added.
Zanshin, to put it bluntly, was the practice of staying alert after downing an opponent—preparing yourself to strike again in case they tried a 'zombie attack.' It was for dealing with the guys who pretended to be finished or weren't quite dead yet. You found it in ancient styles of both swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat.
"If I don't do it, Piggett and Katori-sensei start punching me..." I groaned.
I’d had enough of it. It was so barbaric! Personally, I’d much rather be the type of fighter who scores a pinfall, turns his back on his opponent, and plays to the crowd.
But when I was training with those two, if I even let my focus waver for a second during form practice, I’d take a fist to the face. They’d tell me to stop blinking so much—as if that was even possible.
And then there was the matter of my gaze. If I didn't keep my vision wide enough to see everything at once, attacks would come flying in from my blind spots. It had become a permanent habit by now. The only reason I was any good at fighting multiple opponents was because I’d had that awareness drilled into my skull.
I’m pretty sure that was the only reason I’d survived the fight with Zork, too.
I keep wishing this peaceful, easygoing life could just go on forever... but the universe clearly has other plans.