Chapitre 14: chapter 14: Restricted democracy in the Nameless Kingdom
The Nameless Kingdom has always been strict when it comes to sports competitions.
If you wish to organize any type of competition, you must adhere to the general conditions, which the public has dubbed as "impossible."
The question is, why? Running, football, swimming, etc.
The government justifies this by claiming that these activities are illogical and pointless, making citizens rely on their bodies and, over time, neglect their minds.
The kingdom is in desperate need of minds, while physical strength is left to the army and specialized police forces, who have no need to participate in such games.
I'm not joking.
This period was mockingly referred to as "The Era of the Mind, Not the Body" by neighboring kingdoms, but now those neighbors are kicking themselves out of regret.
Currently, in the field of technology, the Nameless Kingdom has no competitors.
With the dazzling success of this policy, the restrictions tightened until sports competitions were entirely criminalized, leaving only academic contests as the sole legally sanctioned events.
Anything else exists only in the underground world.
Of course, you can practice any sport you want—we are a democratic kingdom—but out of concern that it might harm the kingdom's values and future, you should only do so privately.
Who has the means to set up a facility or hire a coach to train? If you're rich, maybe.
But even the rich aren't foolish enough to pour their money into something that won't yield returns.
It's better to invest in their children's education.
Bear in mind that the kingdom no longer supports trainers who teach such activities.
So if you find one, expect a high cost.
This doesn't apply to the four major families or the royal family, who have the ability to monopolize such trainers entirely, allowing the gap between them and the general populace to widen further and further.
I always felt nauseated whenever I heard someone from the People's Council declare that the kingdom is democratic.
In truth, the kingdom suffers from a split personality.
"Sir, don't worry. I'll handle the situation."
The man hurried out of the room, issuing orders to his men over the phone.
"Absolute silence."
I didn't understand what he was talking about until I noticed, on the competition broadcast screen, the arena and stands illuminated with red lights—a sign for absolute silence.
Everyone, without exception, shut their mouths as if cutting off their own breath.
I sat back on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other, relaxing as I addressed the closest maid.
"Do you know how to make coffee?"
"Of course, sir. Just a moment."
She quickly bowed and darted off to fulfill my request, leaving everything else behind.
I focused entirely on the screen, which showed the policeman weaving between parked cars, seemingly searching for something specific.
Seconds passed before the man appeared in front of the policeman.
The maid approached and placed the cup on the table before me.
"What's your name?"
The maid looked startled, as if no one had ever asked her such a question before.
"Zoe."
"Miss Zoe, does this screen not produce sound?"
She moved closer to the screen, and somehow, she pressed a button.
Suddenly, I could hear the footsteps of the man who had reached the policeman just in time. Their conversation began, and I took a sip of coffee, enjoying the show.
"What brings you here?"
"What's with the cold welcome? Can't I stop by and enjoy a little fun, Mr. Sora?"
"Don't play games with me. Spill it."
The policeman glanced around nervously, as if afraid someone might overhear.
"I want more."
Sora raised an eyebrow, expressing his displeasure.
"The price matches the job, and I'm already paying plenty for you to simply close your eyes."
"Look."
The policeman turned theatrically, pointing to the side of his head, a provocative smile spreading across his face.
"I have ears. Shouldn't you pay me to shut them too?"
Sora stepped closer to the policeman until there was no space left between them.
"Where did you get this nerve?"
The smell of alcohol hit Sora's nose.
"Are you drunk?"
The policeman smiled again, a hiccup escaping him as if to answer Sora's question.
Realizing that the policeman's courage came from alcohol, Sora stepped back.
"If you want to raise your price, you'll need to raise your value. Do you have anything useful to say?"
"I've heard rumors that someone is funding suspicious activities. You know, and I know, what that means. I'll try to mislead the investigation, but you need to warm my pockets."
"We'll talk about this after you sober up. Now leave."
"Alright, alright. No need to be rude."
The policeman raised his hands in mock surrender and shuffled away, barely able to carry his own weight.
The coffee finished as their conversation ended.
I placed the empty cup on the table, my hands resting on my knees as I analyzed everything—from the policeman's movements around the cars to Sora's appearance and the constant shifts in his body language.
The door to the room opened, and Sora entered.
"Sir, there's no problem. I've taken care of—"
I stood abruptly, anger coursing through me.
"You took care of the shit! That scumbag wasn't drunk—he memorized the car numbers. Send your men after him."
Taking deep breaths, I paced the room, trying to calm myself, which left the maids visibly frightened.
Only Zoe managed to keep her composure, though fear was evident in her eyes, just like the others.
"Sir, I know him. He wouldn't—"
My gaze landed on Sora, standing like a pillar, spouting nonsense.
"Stop with the rubbish and send your men immediately."
Finally, the pillar complied, speaking into his phone.
"Everyone, move out. Bring me that officer now."
He completed his orders and approached the screen, pressing a few buttons.
All the external cameras appeared on the screen, showing the exits the officer might have used.
But nothing showed—only Sora's men running and searching everywhere, hoping to find something.
One camera caught my attention.
It showed the rear end of a black car with its taillights shining as it sped out of the frame.
I moved quickly, grabbing Sora's shoulder to bring us closer to the screen, pointing at the camera.
"Zoom in and rewind the footage."
Sora obeyed, his posture uncomfortable.
"Zoom in on Camera 6 and rewind quickly."
The camera filled the screen, and as instructed, they rewound the footage, revealing the target entering the black car before it sped off.
"Can a policeman afford a car with a private driver? How much are you paying him exactly?"
I moved closer to his face, and though my mask concealed any visible expression, my voice conveyed everything that needed to be understood.
"Apologies, sir. It's my mistake. Don't worry, we'll find him before he leaves the city."
I stood up, releasing his shoulder, allowing him to straighten himself, though he was now drenched in sweat.
Taking a deep breath, I cursed under my breath.
No matter how much I tried to breathe deeply to calm my anger, my lungs felt like they might burst, and my fury remained unquenched.
I returned to the sofa and sat down.
"Zoe, another cup."
"Yes, sir."
Once again, she bowed and went off to fulfill her task.
It seemed she was the only person here doing their job properly.
"Start the next round. It had better be a good fight to calm my anger."
"Right away, sir."
He tried to sit next to me as before, to press the button to start the fight. But one pointed glare from me made his body tremble.
Realizing it was a bad idea, he awkwardly stretched himself to press the button from where he stood.
"L-Let the fight begin."
Straightening up, he stood among the maids, embarrassment plain on his face.
In the arena, the alarm and red lights faded, signaling the return of life to the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen, many storms have passed, but the house has never moved once," the announcer suddenly began reciting poetry.
"I won't reintroduce them, as you already know them. Let the fight begin!"
The bell rang, and with it, the crowd erupted into cheers, fueling the competitors' spirits.
Unlike the first round, this time, Cobra lunged forward with wide strides toward the Monkey Man.
The Monkey Man pounded the floor as he moved like an actual monkey.
Just as Cobra was about to punch him, the Monkey deftly dodged and retreated to his position.
Finally, the Monkey Man utilized his strength—speed—and exploited Cobra's weakness—his sluggishness.
The Monkey advanced, prompting Cobra to strike.
The Monkey retreated, leaving Cobra expending energy for nothing. It was a smart strategy, but only in the short term.
Cobra started showing signs of fatigue, encouraging the Monkey to abandon his cautious strategy and launch a punch toward Cobra's head.
Cobra caught the weak punch with his palm, surprising the Monkey, who realized Cobra had been feigning exhaustion. With his free hand, Cobra aimed a punch at the Monkey's head. But the Monkey dodged with an agile leap, delivering a precise kick to Cobra's ear.
The blow threw Cobra off balance, allowing the Monkey to free himself from Cobra's grip.
Taking advantage of the situation, the Monkey began attacking Cobra's body with kicks and punches—his stomach, shoulders, and legs.
But Cobra's brief loss of balance passed quickly, and the Monkey's strikes lacked the strength needed to bring him down.
The crowd cheered with enthusiasm.
The Monkey knew his only hope lay in leveraging his flexibility.
Cobra tried his best to land a single blow, but the Monkey kept dodging, rolling to Cobra's blind spot, always behind his back.
The Monkey's attacks felt like an ant biting an elephant, but repeated strikes to the same spot, no matter how strong the body, would eventually wear it down.
Everyone understood this, including Cobra, so he began retreating toward a corner, all the while attempting to strike the Monkey.
The Monkey didn't realize what was happening until it was too late.
Using the corner of the ring, Cobra protected his back, preventing the Monkey from circling him.
With no choice but to face him directly, the Monkey sensed danger.
He stepped back, finding himself with little room to maneuver or dodge.
Cobra remained in his corner, refusing to move, arms raised, ready for any attack.
Meanwhile, the Monkey darted and leaped across the entire ring, his gaze locked on Cobra, hoping to find a weakness to exploit. But nothing appeared.
They stayed in this stalemate, and the crowd grew restless.
"Move your asses! I didn't come here to watch a courtship!"
"It's the Monkey's fault! Fight like a man and stop running away!"
"What are you talking about? That's his style! Look at that useless hunk of meat—he can't even land a single punch. I don't understand how he won the first round."
Arguments erupted among the crowd, oblivious to the Monkey's movements as he slowly crept closer to Cobra, trying to provoke him into leaving his corner.
The Monkey came within six steps, throwing punches at the air in hopes of luring Cobra out. But Cobra remained unmoved, unfazed by the taunts.
Each waited for the other to make a mistake, but their hopes were dashed when the bell rang, signaling the end of the round.
"The second round is a draw."
Cobra raised his hands toward the referee, protesting the decision, while the Monkey left the ring in silence.
"Sir, I'll head to my office. I have some—"
Before he could finish, I raised my hand dismissively, as if shooing away a dog, allowing him to leave while I focused entirely on the unfolding drama on the screen.
Elsewhere, the black car stopped at the side of a dimly lit road, its undercarriage barely illuminated by the faint streetlights, indifferent to blending in with its surroundings.
The driver sat expressionless, while the policeman beside him scribbled something on a piece of paper.
Once finished, the policeman handed the paper to the backseat, where a figure sat shrouded in darkness.
But the figure didn't take the paper, leaving the policeman awkwardly hanging.
Knowing it wouldn't be accepted, he passed it to the driver instead, who also ignored him.
Left with no choice, the policeman placed the paper on the seat and exited the car.
"Sir, I've done everything you asked. They won't let me live. Please, fulfill your promise. I made a mistake taking a bribe, but I've fixed it, haven't I?"
The policeman looked toward the shadowy figure in the backseat, seeking reassurance, but only the driver spoke.
"The Sir said he'd send you somewhere safe, where no one can reach you."
Though he would've preferred hearing it from the figure himself, the policeman accepted the driver's words and began crossing the eerily quiet street.
But out of nowhere, the enemy—or perhaps the hero, depending on how you see it—appeared.
A delivery truck barreled toward the policeman at full speed.
"BOOM!"
I don't know if his story will start in another world, but it's certain that it ended in this one.
The driver had spoken the truth—he sent him to a place where no one could reach him, quite literally.
The driver turned almost fully toward the shadowy figure in the backseat, holding the paper in both hands and extending it.
Finally, the figure moved, taking the paper and examining its contents.
"You should clean your house regularly, or it'll start to stink."
With those words, the car sped off to an undisclosed destination.
If I had been there, I would have recognized the figure without a doubt.
******************Objection words******************
Emiric: Now this is bias.
Author: What now?
Emiric: I mean, author, why didn't you let me experience the joy of meeting a truck head-on? Instead, you keep making random characters go through it.
Author: Why are you talking as if it's a theme park ride? Besides, we're still in it. Want me to send someone to crush your bones?
Emiric: Man, why do you take everything I say so seriously? Relax.
Author: Is there relaxation after someone knows you?
Emiric: I think you are suffering from a mental problem
Author: Look who's talking.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone