A lot had happened during my long stay on Chronos.
Edge’s planet, for instance, had become famous for gambling. Its residents eventually realized a fundamental truth: "Wait, isn’t it more profitable to be the house than the gambler?"
From there, things moved at light speed. They obtained casino permits, formed local cooperatives to run the businesses themselves, and even began pouring resources into science and mathematics education.
It made sense, honestly. Gambling is the ultimate crystallization of advanced mathematics. Even if you’re just running the house, you need a baseline level of math skills. Just programming a perfectly fair die requires a complex algorithm, and the reels of a slot machine involve all sorts of mathematical variables. To truly replicate "luck," you need high-level math.
Eventually, they realized they couldn’t get by unless they manufactured the slot machines themselves. Then came the training programs for professional dealers in manual games.
Consequently, Edge’s planet transformed into a premier tourism destination featuring untouched natural beauty and sprawling casinos. Watching his people throw themselves into math and engineering with greed in their eyes always left Edge wearing a sour expression.
And then there was my situation.
I was in my office working when Melissa walked in.
"Captain, you got a minute?"
"Sure. What’s up?"
"Can I just hand the family headship back to my old man?"
"O-oh? Did something happen?"
"I just don’t want to manage it."
I’d figured she would say that eventually. "Give me more details," I prompted.
Melissa was a woman of few words. That was why she was so often misunderstood. I suspected that back when people were calling her "ugly" and such, she’d probably been hurting boys’ feelings without even realizing it. I could easily imagine her telling some sparring partner, "You’re weak!" as if it were a simple fact.
Boys are delicate creatures, you know. Then again, after that whole ranking incident, the guys weren't just even—they were straight-up guilty.
"Well, apparently there are signs of another rebellion," Melissa explained. "No matter how good the profits are, I can’t be there all the time, so I can’t take responsibility for it. My old man is good at managing tourist spots anyway. Besides, I’m... well, I’m your wife, and technically one of the queens of Chronos. It would be easier to have my father officially become the head of the main house while I just collect an allowance from home."
"See? You're so much more persuasive when you actually explain things!"
"I don’t know what I’m thinking until I say it out loud! You always organize the logic for me, Captain."
"So, basically, because the estate and the territory are too far away, you want to transfer the headship to your father. What about your Duke-type title?"
The plan was for my wives to be granted ducal titles after the official wedding ceremony in the Galactic Empire.
"I don't really care about that. Once you’ve become the wife of the King of Chronos, you’re never going to go hungry. Worst-case scenario, if a coup breaks out, I’ll just find work as a cargo ship crew member and earn my keep that way."
She did have a transport license for the Imperial Army. As long as she didn't live extravagantly, she’d be fine.
"I don't think I'm getting kicked out anytime soon," I said. "But hey, if it looks like I am, we can just swipe a Chronos Army cargo ship."
"Exactly!"
The Imperial Guard Knight listening to our conversation looked like he was developing a migraine.
"Is something wrong?" I asked.
"With all due respect, Your Majesty, might I make a suggestion? Instead of stealing one, would it not be simpler to purchase a vessel for your private use?"
"Exactly!"
Melissa and I immediately pulled up the Pirate Guild’s used ship catalog. We found one for sale with a capacity of twenty.
"Melissa, how should we pay for this?"
"I wonder if they take ten-year loans?"
"Your Majesty," the knight interrupted, "if you are using your personal pocket money, you could pay for this in a single cash installment. Furthermore, you could afford a brand-new, manufacturer-certified ship!"
"No, see, that feels like a waste. I figured a used one would be better."
We’d lose a little on the interest, but I felt a ten-year loan on a used ship was the safest way to manage the risk.
"I beg of you, please buy a new one!" the knight pleaded.
"Fine, fine."
I clicked through and paid for a brand-new ship in full. I put in an order for a "getaway battleship"—the kind of vessel you use when you need to pack up all your worldly possessions and flee in the middle of the night. The catalog specs seemed good enough.
...Then, without telling anyone, I went back to the Pirate Guild site and ordered a used transport ship for myself. An exclusive vessel for Kawagon.
The plan was perfect. I’d escape on the new ship, then switch to the used one at a pre-arranged point and vanish into the Galactic Empire.
I ordered both. My personal funds took a noticeable hit, but I didn't care. Actually, I tended to get scolded if I didn't spend my allowance to a certain degree. Any unused portion was automatically invested in stocks or land, which just increased my income for the next period. The quota of what I had to spend just kept growing.
On top of that, large charitable donations were prohibited, though weddings and funerals were exempt. It was pure insanity. Who was the one who said the country would be ruined if I wasted money? I was the one getting yelled at for not spending enough!
I didn't have a hobby for cars, and even if I did, my transportation was always handled by vehicles the Palace designated. In the end, all that happened was that my personal tablet got upgraded to the latest model every three months. It was a complete farce.
I sent the purchase details to the back-office firm that handled my personal taxes and legal affairs.
"Phew. Why is this such a hassle?"
Between the registrations and the paperwork, it was a lot. For the Pirate Guild ship, I decided to use a forged ID from Amada Security—one of the spares they kept in stock for emergencies.
Hahahaha! I am the Galactic Ninja Kawagon! I shall never suffer the humiliation of a prisoner! Catch me if you can!
With my "Kukkoro Simulation" finished, my getaway preparations were complete. All that was left was to pick out the interior for both ships with Melissa, feeling like a couple of newlyweds.
"I want a Japanese-style room!" she said.
I completely agreed. You can’t beat a good washitsu.
"Let's put in a horigotatsu," I suggested.
"I love it!"
They’re great at first, though setting them up eventually becomes a chore. It’s a universal law that you eventually just put a regular table over the hole and call it a day. But in the beginning, they’re wonderful.
The rooms were spacious enough, so why not?
"We’ll kit out the kitchen with the latest commercial-grade appliances..."
"Nice. I love the food you cook, Captain."
"Nuhahahaha!"
My excitement was redlining. If I was going to be a fugitive, I was going to be a comfortable one. I'd even build a recreation area inside.
"Perfect!"
"And what, pray tell, is so 'perfect'?"
Uh-oh.
"Wifey? What are you doing here?"
"I was bored, so I came to play. What is this?"
"The interior designs for my getaway ship."
Veronica puffed out her cheeks. "Are you still on about that? You cannot escape! My approval rating is one hundred percent!"
"But look! A revolution triggered by a fresh graduate failing to find work is a classic trope!"
"In both Chronos and the Empire, the old guard has died off and the demographic graph is a perfect pyramid! We shall not see a recession for a long time yet!"
"Maybe, but wars happen! You lose a war, and then comes the ultra-recession. It’s a story as old as time. War is basically gambling. I’ve been winning so far, so the stocks are up, but the moment I start losing, it’s all downhill. And I'm not exactly a brilliant commander."
"War is the one thing the Lord Groom is best at!"
Gah! That wasn't true! I was also very good at electrical work and operating heavy machinery!
"Just give up!" she commanded.
I buckled. I was ready to give up on the battleship when she surprised me.
"However, you may buy the ship."
"Wait, really?"
"The Lord Groom is a King! No one will begrudge you a private battleship or two. Now, as for the room... Japanese or Western style?"
"Western, with a giant bed so we can sleep together," I answered.
"Good. Now, Melissa! Is this the size you want for your dresser?"
"Hey, Veronica-chan, is this big enough?"
"Melissa! Do not attempt to dress yourself. We shall build a dedicated dressing room and leave it to the Court Ladies... which means the room must be larger! Honestly, do not try to do this yourselves. Leave the interior to the professionals!"
And so, under the strict guidance of the Galactic Emperor herself, the battleship was commissioned.
Looking back now... this getaway ship was the trigger for everything that followed.