Chương 24: chapter 24: A Harem Novel? Seriously?!
Why do you think people gamble, even though they know they are likely to lose? Even if they win, their successive losses will far outweigh their gains.
The answer is simple, without any suspense:
no matter how much you tell them they are losing, they somehow feel like they are winning. Why?
Short-sightedness.
They lose a thousand chasing a million. Every time they gamble, they don't see the thousand they lost—they fixate on the million they didn't win. In their subconscious mind, they believe they haven't truly lost; rather, no matter how much they lose, their losses will never compare to the opportunity of winning the million.
They chase wealth under the illusion of quick profit, unaware that all they're truly chasing is poverty and ruin.
In the meeting room, a curse lingers.
How many rooms are in the mansion? I don't know.
I stand upright, my eyes wandering over the walls adorned with expensive paintings. Behind me stands Hank, speaking softly into his phone.
"Sir, no one knows about this meeting. It hasn't been recorded in any of the investigation logs."
Without turning, I rest my hand on my chin. This time, I'm not acting; I'm genuinely trying to focus and immerse myself in my train of thought. These past few days, my mind hasn't had a moment's rest except during sleep.
Thankfully, I discovered last night how this body sleeps—it's addicted.
"What are the probabilities here?"
I won't lie; knowing that he's aware I've lost my memory makes me less hesitant to ask him questions. That doesn't mean I'll lower my guard. I still don't know where the stab in the back will come from.
"In response to you, sir, since you're certain the Investigation office will visit you, and since there are no official records, this will just be a friendly conversation."
"My words won't be used against me later?"
"They could start a formal investigation, but they won't. No one would allow a friendly conversation with them after that."
No, no. Something about this is suspicious.
Trying to clear my head, I begin pacing around the room.
Hank doesn't let his eyes wander from me for even a moment, as if waiting for me to finish so he can receive his orders.
Instead of moving my body, I suddenly start moving my eyes, scanning every corner of the room.
I narrow my eyes at Hank.
"There must be cameras in the mansion, right?"
"Of course, sir."
"Good, good. What about the mansion's secret locations?"
"There are cameras, but they have private connections."
Hank's words bring a smile to my face.
He notices, trying to predict what I'm about to do but failing. His face begins to wrinkle with concern. I waited for him to ask, but he didn't, making me wonder if he's naturally inclined to follow orders without question.
"Order the men to place Ivana in a secret location."
"Do you think they'll search, but…"
Without him continuing, I know what he wants to say. To save time, I cut him off.
"The law is just an excuse to do what they want. As for this 'friendly conversation,' I don't buy it."
Why would anyone agree to an investigation without clear evidence or charges?
A friendly conversation is nothing but an unofficial investigation. Plain and simple.
Their compliance with it is like saying to the government: Look, even though I'm not obligated, I'll agree to this investigation to show my goodwill.
In reality, they wouldn't mind dragging me in and launching a full investigation, but to avoid appearing oppressive, they use the excuse of a "friendly conversation." Friendly my ass.
Not to mention, with Amy in the mansion and her body missing from the assassination scene, it's easy for them to figure out she was in the meeting. They might find some pretext to start searching the mansion. I need to be cautious.
"Find a platform to display the camera footage for the 'friendly conversation.'"
Hank knits his brows. Of course, he's wondering why I'd risk exposing my identity. If I'm still alive, it's likely because of the blessings of protection laws.
"Sir, this…"
I raise my hand to silence him.
"I know. All I can do is memorize the position of every camera and its range so I can turn my back to them in an attempt to hide my face."
"Sir, that won't be enough. Through voice recognition or the mansion's structure, your identity will eventually be revealed—it's only a matter of time."
"With all the media focus on me, it's inevitable my identity will be discovered. Just ensure that whenever my name is mentioned, sound interference is triggered. Make it a two-second delay to make it easier for you."
Hank exhales deeply.
"There's no need to hide the lady. The mansion is designed to make all rooms appear hidden."
I blink twice, scrutinizing him. Hank notices my confusion and bows apologetically.
"Sorry, sir. I overlooked…"
"It doesn't matter. Just explain."
"Yes, sir."
Hank approaches the door, moving his hand over it as if wiping it.
A faint mechanical hum fills the air, like the buzz of electricity. I watch in amazement as the edges of the door slowly dissolve, transforming into a silvery liquid that flows into the surrounding walls.
Within seconds, the door completely disappears, leaving behind a seamless wall as if there had never been an opening.
I approach quickly, running my fingers over the smooth surface where the door had been moments ago. No traces of seams or gaps. Even the texture matches the rest of the wall.
"How…?"
I mutter, unable to finish my question.
Hank smiles proudly.
"Nanotechnology, sir. Smart particles that rearrange themselves based on commands. They can mimic any surface or material."
If I told anyone there was a door here moments ago, they'd think I was insane.
I glance at Hank, who's still maintaining his smug smile.
"Can every room be made to appear as if it doesn't exist?"
"Yes, sir. Any door in the mansion can be treated the same way."
I smile, a knowing grin, without taking my eyes off the wall. Mimicking Hank's movements, I find the door returns to its original state.
"Let's begin, then. I don't want you, Dexter, or even Azaria to show your faces."
"Understood, sir."
Hank bows, taking three steps back before leaving me alone. Now, what do I do?
I stretch my hand toward the sky. Of course, my dream ,I'll create the greatest meal humanity has ever known.
Let's set aside my dream that shattered against the harsh rocks of reality and return to the present moment, now that the flashback has ended.
"My system has been hacked… My system has been hacked!"
I raise my voice, not caring about Null's incredulous gaze as he processes what's happening.
"You…"
He was about to make things worse when Zane stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Mr. Null, let's stop here."
Null shrugs his shoulder, forcing Zane to release him.
"Everyone wants to be my enemy. I'm persecuted! Why? I'm just a handsome businessman. Why?"
I make sure my voice is as dramatic as possible. Unfortunately, I'd love to move around to make the scene more theatrical, but if I so much as budge, my face will appear on the cameras. It's better to stay put.
Finally, after digesting the shock, Null stops looking at me and begins scanning the surroundings, still determined to find something he can use. He won't accept defeat easily.
"Drop your weapons! What are you waiting for?"
Zane whispers, his eyes locked onto all of Null's men. They begin shifting their gazes between Zane, the assistant, and Null, the deputy.
Of course, Null's authority will prevail. They refuse to lower their weapons, though it's clear they surrendered long ago in spirit. They know they can't open fire under the watchful eye of the kingdom without solid proof.
"Where are the licenses for the weapons you're carrying right now?"
His words snap me out of my performance and make me stare at him with a mixture of pity and disdain.
My gaze only fuels the fire burning in his chest.
"Of course, we have licenses. What do you think? That the Deputy Chief would show up at my house, and I'd brazenly keep unlicensed weapons here?"
I glance at my men, their faces revealing telling expressions.
Damn it. Don't tell me this body's owner was wandering the kingdom armed with illegal weapons. Was he insane?
"Show me the paperwork..."
"Enough is enough! Every guard has their own license. I hadn't planned on going out today; I was waiting for your visit. Naturally, they didn't bring their licenses with them. You're just digging for something to use against me. Is there still law in this kingdom?"
I raise my hand, signaling to Zane as a final attempt to pressure Null. He doesn't take defeat lightly.
"Mr. Zane, you seem like the only rational person here. Shouldn't the Investigation office focus on the person who hacked into my system and invaded my privacy?"
Sweat trickles down his forehead. He closes his eyes briefly, forcing a strained smile.
"Of course, of course. Just give me a moment."
He finishes speaking and turns to Null.
"The Chief himself ordered me to intervene if you lose control after seeing the live broadcast."
He glances at his men, and this time he speaks through gritted teeth:
"By order of the Chief, lower your weapons. You and you. Otherwise, don't blame me when I report to the Chief that you refused his direct orders."
At the mere mention of the word "Chief," a shudder runs from the tips of their hair to the soles of their feet. Without hesitation, they lower their weapons. The position of the Deputy might outrank the assistant, but it's nothing compared to the Chief himself.
In response, my men look at me. I nod, and they lower their weapons as well.
"Mr. Zane, I truly feel persecuted. I hope the Chief can provide a convincing reason for all of this happening to me."
Zane turns to me, maintaining his fake smile, though a few veins begin to show on his forehead.
"Of course. I'll inform His Excellency of everything, though it's hardly necessary. He's seen it all online."
"Ah, don't remind me! My privacy has been violated."
I exhale deeply, closing my eyes and placing a hand on my chest. The pain inside feels real.
While delivering one of the most dramatic performances of my life, I watch Null silently leave the mansion. Unable to handle the loss, he storms off like a girl rejected after confessing her feelings. As if I'd let him leave without a parting shot.
"High grades don't necessarily mean intelligence after all."
Although he doesn't stop, I'm sure my words reached his ears, I can feel his anger from here.
In the grand hall of the mansion, where crystal chandeliers dangle from the high ceiling and their light reflects off walls adorned with priceless artwork, I sit on a large black velvet sofa.
In my hands is a massive bag of popcorn, its rich aroma filling the air. My eyes are glued to the giant screen covering most of the opposite wall, and my heart pounds with anticipation.
"When will it start?"
My voice is impatient, like a child waiting for their favorite movie to begin.
Hank and Dexter stand to my right, their bodies stiff like living statues. To my left sits Ivana, her light perfume blending with the scent of the popcorn. Azaria stands behind the couch, tapping her fingers lightly.
"It will start any moment now, sir."
Hank responds with a flat tone, as if he's been forced to watch with me. Suddenly, an idea strikes me like lightning.
A wide smile spreads across my face, and my eyes gleam with mischievous excitement.
"Let's summon all the men. They deserve to be entertained too."
Within minutes, the vast hall fills with my men. The sound of their whispers and movements breaks the stillness from moments ago. Some stand nervously, while others exchange questioning glances.
I hear one whisper to another:
"What's going on?"
"Do you know anything?"
"No, do you?"
"If I knew, why would I ask you in the first place?"
"Shh, it's starting."
I raise my voice to silence the chatter. Ignoring their unimportant stares, I focus entirely on Null as he appears on the screen.
The moment he steps onto the platform, a flurry of camera flashes strikes his face. I can't fathom what's so special about his face to warrant all those pictures.
"Let me start with an apology. An apology to the kingdom and its people, especially Mr. Emiric. Due to the cunning of the kingdom's enemies, I almost made a mistake—a mistake against democracy, the spirit of the people, and every soul seeking redemption."
Two hours had barely passed since the incident, and my name was temporarily freed—this was the first and would be the last time, only due to the sensitivity of the situation.
Not that it mattered. I wasn't the only one in the kingdom named Emiric.
What a pathetic scoundrel. I never imagined he'd swallow his pride and admit his mistakes. I know he's just spouting garbage, not because he believes he's wrong, but because he wants the world to see him as repentant. Power truly changes people.
"After taking the necessary steps, it became clear they were a group of terrorists trying by any means to shatter our unity. They exploited our sensitivities to assassinate citizens who sought to prove they had changed. Not satisfied with that, they tried to assassinate me and frame an honest businessman. Yes, I said honest. There is no evidence for the rumors being spread, proving the saying 'where there's smoke, there's fire' to be false. I say..."
He pauses to breathe, looking directly at the camera as if staring into my soul.
"...that even ice produces smoke."
"Hahaha!"
The moment he finishes, I burst into uncontrollable laughter, hysterical and loud.
It continues until I struggle to breathe.
Finally, I pause to catch my breath, only for another fit of laughter to take over.
"Hahaha!"
Everyone around me stares in bewilderment, wondering what could possibly be so funny.
I had connected his words and demeanor to our school days—those moments of arrogance, that sense of superiority he used to exude. Where had it gone?
For the first time since waking up in this body, I feel genuinely happy to have a second chance, if only to witness this look on his face. His expression may hide his inner turmoil, but his eyes reveal his frustration and helplessness.
As I laugh hysterically, he continues his speech, oblivious to me, spewing more nonsense.
"Once again, I apologize, especially to Mr. Emiric. I also apologize for any panic I may have caused to... his wives."
Suddenly, without warning, my laughter stops, replaced by a coughing fit just as hysterical. Gasping for breath, I lift my head to see everyone—especially Azaria and Ivana—staring at me.
In unison, they ask:
"How many wives do you have, exactly?"
shit, am I in a harem novel?
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