I Became The Leader Of A Revolution In A Romance Fantasy

< Chapter 3: Legitimate Economic Activities of an Otherworld Congressman >

The day the revolutionary army set the capital ablaze and seized the royal palace.

The day I became possessed in this damned novel.

A year had passed since the ‘Red Morning,’ when the revolution brought the kingdom’s heart to its knees.

And honestly, after that, it would be a stretch to say the country was running well.

“Another unemployed person.”

Lize muttered as she saw a passing man.

A man aimlessly wandering the streets was holding a sign high.

– I have worked in three industries,

– I can speak three languages,

– I fought for this country for three years,

– I have three children to feed,

– And I haven’t been able to work for three months,

– All I need is just one job.

“……”

Isn’t that a famous image from the Great Depression?

Is the state of the country really this bad?

Chills ran down my spine.

I was sure that if my secret ledger got exposed, I wouldn’t die peacefully.

We passed through the old streets that had collapsed and burned, yet remained unrestored, and we were getting closer to our destination.

However, the car gradually slowed down and eventually came to a halt. The driver turned around and said with a troubled expression.

“Congressman, we can’t go any further.”

“Pardon?”

“It seems the police have set up a cordon. The roads are already a mess, with people, donkeys, carts, and cars all tangled up. We can’t move an inch.”

What kind of cordon is this?

Just then, my wristwatch chimed with a clear ‘ding’ sound.

It was the ‘five minutes to arrival’ time I had set.

I checked my wristwatch hidden under the sleeve of the practical and affordable suit and shirt, commonly referred to as ‘combat wear’ by office workers.

It was a luxury watch crafted by a clockmaker from a neighboring country, who carved each part by hand, with a year-long waiting list.

To ensure it looked like a cheap watch at first glance, I had it custom-made with steel and brought it in anonymously.

It had a repeater function that notified the time with sound and chimed like this when the set time arrived.
Additionally, it had a perpetual calendar that never needed date correction for over 100 years and a tourbillon to correct time errors caused by gravity.

The pinnacle of precision craftsmanship in this world.

Every night, I would savor the wine that had finally started to be produced at the winery I had secretly established under a pseudonym,

(Yes, it was the very land that would supposedly become the world’s best vineyard, according to the author.)

and secretly uncover the metal plate on the back of the watch to admire the intricate movement. This was my personal healing routine that no one knew about.

No, if anyone finds out, I’m dead.

But that’s merely a nighttime hobby,

During the day, my watch is just a tool that whips me into following my minute-by-minute schedule.

“Damn it.”

I was really going to be late.

The golden badge whispered.

– Do you desire power?

With just the congressman badge gleaming on my chest, I could probably bulldoze through this feeble traffic jam and police cordon in an instant.

But.

– No, you devil!

With the burning green and radiant light of integrity in my heart, I repelled the devil’s sinister temptation.
In fact, if you gather all the congressmen, 80% would think that being a congressman makes them the new nobility.

Incidentally, if you exclude the congressmen from noble backgrounds and survey again, the delusion percentage rises to 95%—I could bet my badge on it.

So, flashing a splendid golden congressman badge in front of people and saying,

– You scoundrel! Do you know who I am?

is the standard attitude of today’s congressmen.

So honestly, I could do it too.

The problem is my position.

Once, if you were to pick the ten most famous nobles in the country, I would definitely be on that list.

Moreover, I am the former lover of the princess, which is practically public knowledge.

So, if I were to act high-handed like others?

– Comrade, it seems you need to remove some of that rotten feudalism from your body. Is it the problem of your blue blood? Let’s extract it all and transfuse the red blood of the revolution.

Damn it.

I quietly opened the car door.

“Congressman?!”

Lize was astonished.

I was also astonished.

In the ruins where the downtrodden, burning with indiscriminate murderous intent towards the whole world, lurked in every corner.

There were still traces of explosions and arson…… is that bloodstain? Anyway, in a place where traces of violent crime were vivid, I was about to run barefoot.

I was sure that not even during election season would you see such a scene in 21st-century South Korea.

“Wait here.”

“It’s dangerous! You’re stepping out without your aide!”

“That’s why you need to stay here, Ms. Lize.”

Lize flinched and then looked at me with strangely dazed eyes.

“Indeed, you are the superhuman who will lead the nation……”

Her voice was too soft to hear well.

“Pardon?”

“……I always said I would stay by your side, Congressman.”

Then she suddenly started preparing to follow me.

I stared at her blankly for a moment.

I wondered why she was going to such lengths.

‘Well, for me, it’s a matter of life and death.’

At that moment, seeing her kick off her high heels and put on combat boots, something suddenly came to mind.

A non-soldier suddenly wearing combat boots is seen as a symbol of armed struggle. Especially if that person is a woman, it can’t help but be interpreted as a political message.

And my revolutionary faction, which I (at least for now) lead, the faction that claims the armed struggle represented by the ‘Red Morning’ isn’t over yet, is the militant faction.
So then?

‘Ah! She wants the golden badge!’

Indeed, being an aide is a job for those with political ambition.

Given that Lize has always been cynical, it all made perfect sense.

‘Even her career as my aide is just a stepping stone!’

Thinking that way, it didn’t seem so terrible to bring a young woman with a bright future into the worst slums of the capital unarmed.

Two adults capable of making rational decisions were making the best decisions for their interests, each taking responsibility for their own choices.

‘Indeed, Ms. Lize is reliable.’

I smiled conspiratorially at my aide, who was just the right amount of dry and cynical, fitting perfectly with my modern sensibilities.

“I tried to stop you.”

“I won’t blame you, even if I die.”

Alright.

The determination to risk one’s life for fame.

A wonderful quality for a politician.

If she was that blinded by ambition, I would gladly make use of her.

* * *

I stepped in donkey droppings that had piled up on the road, got swept away by the crowd while hearing shouts like “It’s clothing!” and had my jacket tugged.

I punched my way through people who were fighting, likely hallucinating from cheap moonshine.
Finally, I arrived at my desired location.

This slum, once a bustling area, had a building that used to be a social club for upper-class men.

Today, I planned to propose a public project to regenerate the slum, centered on that very building.

For that purpose, I had gathered journalists and even royalist commentators who had fond memories of enjoying orgies while high on hallucinogens in that building (and whose ‘entertainment’ evidence I held).

“Damn it.”

The police cordon was set up right at that spot.

The building that used to be a social club was now occupied by vagrants, and they were surrounded by police.

The two groups were barking madly at each other across the barricade.

“No! You can’t come out!”

“If we get kicked out of here, where are we supposed to sleep tonight?”

Wailing vagrants.

“Get them out of here now! This is trespassing!”

“This building now has an owner! Mr. Edmond Dantès legally acquired it!”

Shouting police officers.

The moment I heard the name Edmond Dantès, chills ran down my spine. I silently screamed at the police.

‘Why are you shouting the owner’s name so loudly!’

Edmond Dantès was one of my aliases!

If the redevelopment around the old social club building (which I proposed) materializes, the property values in this area will skyrocket.

I had merely scooped it up (using confidential information and a fake identity) before anyone else knew!

“Edmond Dantès?”

“Was there such a rich person?”

What sent even more chills down my spine was that the people stuck on the other side of the cordon also heard that keyword.

They started whispering among themselves, “Have you ever heard of Edmond Dantès?” “Is he a foreigner?” “Can a foreigner just buy our country’s real estate like that?” Dangerous questions.
If these people’s professions get the wrong idea, it could really explode.

‘Why are the journalists here too!’

Of course, they were here because I called them.

But now was not the time to be rationally angry.

If journalists started digging into Edmond Dantès, I would be seriously screwed!

At that moment, before I even realized it, I was running through the cordon.

“Hey! You can’t come in here!”

I shoved my gleaming golden badge in the face of the shouting police officer and leaped over the human barricade with superhuman agility.

“He… he flew!”

People gaped at me as if they had just seen a deity performing teleportation.

I climbed onto the barricade, raised my hands toward both sides, and shouted a magical phrase often seen in public service announcements.

“Stop!”