9th Grade Civil Servant In Another World Chapter 5 - This F*cking Another World (5)

“My goodness, Lucas!”

Somehow I managed to find the carriage station and make it back to the boarding house.

When I rang the doorbell, Mrs. Schmidt came rushing out and pulled me into a tight embrace.

“Cough! Mrs. Schmidt, that hurts!”

Her plump body pressed against my wounds, causing severe pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

She released me and hurriedly brought me inside.

“Are you alright?! You have no idea how worried I was.”

Whether she hadn’t slept a wink waiting for me or had been crying, her reddened eyes made me feel a mixture of warmth and overwhelming emotion in my chest.

“I’m fine. You didn’t need to worry so much.”

“Lucas!”

Bang! With a tremendous racket, Daniel came tumbling down the stairs.

“You’re back. What on earth happened? Are you hurt?”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

I deliberately spread my arms wide.

“It was nothing serious. Just a little misunderstanding at work.”

“If Ossel came, it wasn’t nothing serious.”

I just shook my head at Daniel’s suspicious look.

I hadn’t exactly signed a confidentiality agreement, but I wasn’t stupid enough to go around blabbing and risk getting dragged away again.

“I need to get some sleep. Mrs. Schmidt, do you have any food left?”

After eating some warm soup and bread, I went up to my room. I collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep sleep like the dead.

***

“…cas. Lucas. Please wake up, dear. Lucas?”

How much time had passed?

I woke up to the sound of someone calling my name from outside the room.

Getting up groggily and looking out the window, the sun was quite low, suggesting it was late afternoon. I rubbed my face several times to clear my head and approached the door.

“Yes, Mrs. Schmidt.”

When I opened the door, she smiled with relief.

“Weren’t you supposed to go to some play tonight?”

“Yes, that’s right. Thank you for waking me.”

“You invited Daniel and me. I remembered.”

Right. Lucas had bragged so excessively that it was tiresome to listen to, then invited them both.

In truth, it was closer to inwardly begging them to please watch his play, but outwardly he acted as if he was bestowing the grace of letting them see a great work.

“Please do come. I have some preparation left to do, so I’ll head there first.”

I headed to the theater near the office.

It wasn’t a grand theater frequented by stars, but it wasn’t a shabby small theater either—just an ordinary theater.

There were still several hours until the performance, so the audience seats were empty, while people were busily coming and going on stage preparing sets and equipment.

How was everything proceeding without me, the actual coordinator?

Puzzled, I watched carefully and spotted a familiar fat silhouette.

“Oh, Clerk Assistant Redan! You’re a bit late.”

Hoffman, who had been giving various directions, spotted me and approached with his characteristic good-natured smile.

And he casually patted my shoulder. Chills ran through me wherever his hand touched.

“I heard you came out of that place! You must have had a hard time.”

For a brief moment, I looked at him with what must have been the stupidest expression in the world.

‘What the hell is with this bastard?’

A subordinate he had reported was put through hell and then released.

Normally, one would either apologize for the misunderstanding, act awkward, or pick a fight asking “Are you really innocent?” wouldn’t they?

But Hoffman wasn’t saying a single word about having done anything wrong—in fact, he wasn’t mentioning the report at all—and was acting friendly again.

I couldn’t think of this as normal human behavior.

This was just a monster.

“Well, we have to keep our spirits up today, right? I brought something good, so eat up and strengthen yourself!”

He spoke shamelessly while pressing something like a lunch box into my hands.

“Yes, yes. Thank you.”

“Well, now that you’re here, I’ll take my leave.”

“Yes, please do.”

I watched Hoffman’s retreating figure while biting my already cracked and split lips.

‘That bastard really won’t do. He’s truly a frightening person. There’s no way he’d act like that if he really believed the misunderstanding about me was cleared up. With that bastard around, who knows when the same thing might happen again.’

The idea I’d been mulling over the entire way here seemed worth putting into action.

***

The lunch box contained chicken cooked in wine.

I dumped it straight into the trash and headed to the lead actor’s dressing room.

“Long live the Great Supreme Leader! Good evening.”

I entered with a business smile, and the actor playing Kruger, who had been sitting on the sofa reading his script, stood up.

“Long live the Supreme Leader! You’re here, Clerk Assistant Redan.”

“How are you feeling? Were you going over the script?”

“Very good. Yes, I need to look it over one last time before rehearsal.”

“Actually, about that script. We’ve decided to make a small revision.”

The actor looked puzzled.

“Again? Do we really have to change it? The actual performance is only a few hours away…”

Hoffman had already used his excuse as acting director to loaf around and nitpick various things, causing lines and stage directions to change several times.

This was quite fortunate for me.

I bowed my head with an apologetic expression.

“I’m sorry. It’s a decision made by our Chief Clerk. It’s just one word change, so it shouldn’t be difficult. In Supreme Leader Kruger’s final speech scene…”

Following my finger pointing to the script, a conspiracy began to spread.

A conspiracy that looked trivial but actually concealed a sharp dagger.

***

“Come see an interesting play! Only 50 pelts! A play about the Great Supreme Leader’s life!”

In the street gradually being painted with sunset, a boy with signs hung front and back was enthusiastically hawking tickets.

Though the theater market had slumped a bit after the emergence of the curious entertainment called movies, countless people still came to see plays.

Compared to movies with high production costs, new works appeared more frequently, and with film development still slow and stuck in black-and-white silence for over a decade, theater still offered more vitality.

“Only 50 pelts! Please come see it!”

The boy called out energetically without tiring.

“Hmm.”

A man who happened to be wandering the street stopped in front of the boy.

“Hey, kid.”

Though he had simply spoken, the surrounding air turned cold.

“Hiik! Long live the Supreme Leader!”

The boy stiffened his body like a log and struck his chest.

No wonder, since the man was wearing the black uniform that was an object of fear and awe.

A sharply creased cap, buttons lined up in a row. Moreover, he wore shoulder boards with three red stripes.

Special Police Ossel, and quite high-ranking at that.

The boy instinctively cowered in fear, and the Ossel smiled unpleasantly at the sight of the cowering kid.

“What kind of play?”

“It, it depicts the life journey of the Supreme Leader based on his autobiography…”

Despite trembling, the boy tried to speak coherently.

The Ossel pondered for a moment, then turned to another Ossel standing beside him.

“Say, adjutant. What do you think? Is this suitable as this week’s inspection target?”

“I only follow the Colonel’s will, but I am curious. Just how gutsy must someone be to dare make a play out of the Supreme Leader’s autobiography.”

“Hmm, that’s true.”

The man called Colonel stroked his chin as if lost in thought.

They randomly attended plays or movies each week for their reports, though in reality it was also recreational time.

Of course, the Colonel searched for faults with fire in his eyes regardless of his satisfaction level.

“Then let’s take a look. Hey, kid. Give us two tickets.”

“Thank you. That’s 100 pelts…”

However, faced with the adjutant’s frightening glare, the boy’s request for money died in his throat, and he was simply robbed of the tickets.

***

“Ha, amazing. No wonder I had no money left.”

Watching the rehearsal, I let out another incredulous exclamation.

It was a completely extravagant production.

From the lead actors to the extras, all costumes were procured as actual uniforms, and they had brought in a fairly famous band to perform. The stage sets were also made as luxuriously as possible within reach.

Lucas had stretched the allocated budget to its limit and even depleted his own savings.

I had laughed hollowly after seeing the recorded expense ledger.

This nonsense would end today.

I ignored the rehearsal rushing toward its climax and glanced at Hoffman, who was sitting importantly in the audience.

All cultural works created in Schufaben had to undergo prior censorship by the Cultural Committee.

If there were parts that mocked the Supreme Leader, denied his achievements, criticized government policies, contained obscene scenes, promoted multi-racial nations, or violated any of the detailed items handed down as guidelines, they would be ruthlessly stamped with a red mark.

In severe cases, one could be dragged away by Ossel to eat soup through their nose.

The charges typically mentioned at such times were things like “reactionary elements” or “failure to uphold the nation’s core values.”

I intended to exploit exactly that evil law.

***

Just as the sun set and faint stars began to rise.

“Perfect timing.”

The Colonel took out his pocket watch and muttered.

Five minutes before 7 o’clock.

He presented his pre-purchased ticket and entered. Perhaps because it was Sunday evening, many seats were filled. The Colonel and adjutant sat side by side in empty seats at the back.

Soon the stage curtain rose and the performance began.

An actor cute as a baby angel played the lonely boy.

The anguished appearance of young Kruger, precocious and brilliant.

During the chaotic final days of the old kingdom, corrupt nobles harshly exploited the common people.

Kruger’s widowed mother also returned home exhausted from working outside all day.

She knew Kruger was an extraordinary child. Fighting off fatigue, she told him stories of historical heroes, hoping the child could dream.

Young Kruger, who had grown up admirably.

He traveled battlefields and made a name for himself as a powerful knight. However, his anguish about reality only deepened.

Wandering refugees who had lost their homes.

Elven swindlers who took advantage of the chaos to cheat their neighbors with usury and overcharging.

Nobles who struggled against the tide of liberalism while continuing their harsh exploitation.

Kruger became the youngest knight commander.

With loyalty to the kingdom, he tried to kindle one last flame, but the incompetent king wouldn’t listen to his words.

Then the leader of the revolutionaries approached Kruger.

Hearing about the ideals he dreamed of, Kruger fell into contemplation, and finally went to have a final audience with the king, but the king was already blinded by wine, women, and song.

Finally resolving himself, Kruger joined the revolutionaries and brought down the royal family.

However, the revolutionaries who seized power became just as corrupt as the old royal family.

The people groaned even more.

Kruger looked at his sword and lamented.

“I have lived by this sword alone. I had hoped for a world where I would no longer need to use my sword, but I must draw it once again.”

The spirit of his deceased mother appeared and sang, and Kruger returned to his childhood.

Young Kruger gained courage from his mother’s words and led a second revolution…

The Colonel smiled with satisfaction and placed his clasped hands on his knees.

‘The Supreme Leader’s childhood…’

It was an amazing play.

Amazing enough to make his heart swell as an ardent supporter of the Supreme Leader.

‘The Supreme Leader might quite like it if he saw this.’

The Colonel nodded, thinking of the Supreme Leader who was rumored to have unexpectedly outstanding artistic sensibilities.

Finally, the last scene approached.

Kruger, who had become Supreme Leader.

The day he must give a speech before all the people.

Fallen into fear, he gripped his sword and repeated the words his mother had told him since childhood.

“Judge yourself. So that you may stand proudly before God’s judgment.”

Finally, Kruger stepped up to the podium.

“My fellow citizens.”

“My fellow citizens.”

The Colonel whispered simultaneously.