I Became The Leader Of A Revolution In A Romance Fantasy

< Chapter 36: Sic Semper Tyrannis – 1 >

The Separate Palace Exhibition was an event with a somewhat ‘relaxed’ concept even in high society.

(Of course, those who understood how artificial ‘natural styling’ was in the fashion world could guess that this was just a concept.)

Perhaps that’s why there were no ceremonial elements, such as calling out all her titles and honors, when the Empress entered.

At the moment when the attendant simply and loudly announced, “Her Majesty the Empress is entering!”

The people who were gathered in small groups admiring the exhibited works or glancing our way all turned toward the door.

Click.

As the door opened, the figure of a petite girl was revealed. She seemed to be in her early teens at most.

Amidst the tall guards, a small, white girl with almost pinkish coral-colored hair appeared, her hair swaying.

However, from her white dress, her body and limbs appeared thin and long, giving her more the look of a model or idol standing on stage at a young age rather than an ordinary girl from the neighborhood.

Despite the solemn procession and the gravity of the ceremony, Perpetua II’s shoulders bounced with each step, even though her steps followed the practiced etiquette.

Had she been born in an ordinary family, she would have grown up as a girl who would chatter for hours over small matters, laughing and gesturing animatedly.

“Hehe, how cute.”

A woman muttered, covering her mouth with a fan.

No, it wasn’t just her. All the nobles in the hall, focusing on the Empress, were cheering on Perpetua, who was struggling to act the role of the ‘Empress.’

Perpetua, who couldn’t stay still and kept nodding her head, indeed had a charm that made her fascinating to watch.

‘It’s like a scene where the protagonist, who has grown significantly by the second part, appears in new clothes.’

In male-oriented stories, it’s not uncommon to reach 300, 400 episodes or more. But in female-oriented web novels, it’s not easy to surpass 200 episodes in the main story.

Unlike male-oriented stories that deal with achievements, female-oriented stories focus on love. Even the most loyal readers would start to get tired if the romance stretched to 300 episodes.

So, even if you finally come up with a promising story after trying several new ones, it’s not easy to sustain earnings for more than six months with it.

The market is very different from male-oriented stories, where you can live off a decent work for about 10 months to a year once you start a good one.

The difference is significant. To live off a single work, you need to write something like Jeon○shi, Hwasan○hwan, or De○jook.

Whether you can make a living as a full-time writer depends on whether you can consistently achieve commercial success, even moderately.

Female-oriented stories have more gaps in between compared to male-oriented stories, making it disadvantageous for a full-time writer to sustain a living.

However, there were two major genres that broke that damned formula.

1. Martial arts novels, which started appearing endlessly after the success of Hwasan○hwan. They were solidly supported by hunter enthusiasts, effectively a variation or subgenre of ‘female-led fantasy.’

2. Baby novels!

‘Ah, are baby novels truly divine?’

Readers loved them. They were good for the writer’s mental health too.

(Of course, some established writers complained, saying, ‘Damn, I can’t write this,’ while swearing off the genre entirely.)

With the protagonist growing to around 4 to 6 years old, the super handsome dad and older brothers, who essentially served as secondary male leads, turned into daughter-fools and younger-sibling-fools.

This way, the ‘cute narrative’ could be milked steadily for about 100 to 150 episodes.

Change the cover once, and in the early teens, the protagonist’s charm extends beyond the home to social relationships.

This is roughly when significant interactions with the young male lead begin.

In any case, it was a genre that readers loved, writers loved, and above all, one of the few genres in female-oriented web novels that could reliably aim for more than 300 episodes.

‘But damn it.’

The author who had ultimately managed to shove me into this world by writing such novels came to mind. The dark, burning eyes of that person.

Ah, seriously, isn’t there any way out?

Is there no reward, like meeting them and grabbing them by the collar once I achieve my goal?

“……”

I made eye contact with the entering Empress.

“!”

In her clear and transparent blue eyes, there was a ‘sparkling’ change, as if light was welling up from within.

However, that light seemed more like… the curiosity of a mischievous child. It gave me a peculiar sense of unease.

The Empress ran over.

It was a highly ritualized, graceful stride, but within the bounds of maintaining that formality, it was the maximum ‘running’ she could do.

“Y-Your Majesty!”

The startled guards quickly followed her with long strides.

Suddenly, a group of people was rushing across the indoor exhibition.

“Oh my!”

“Let’s get out of the way quickly.”

“Her Majesty’s movements are unstoppable.”

In the sudden commotion, the nobles laughed and noisily parted to the sides.

I found myself witnessing a scene where the crowd split into two lines in front of me.

“Congressman Hastings.”

Perpetua, who had come right up to me, looked up at me for a long moment before speaking.

I let out a hollow laugh.

Then I bowed politely.

“Your Majesty. It is an honor to meet you.”

The ruler of the Seven Seas smiled brightly.

…And now I was being scolded.

Your insight is interesting, but in the end, the current situation is one where everyone sticks to their own position, making things difficult for everyone.

What we need in our era is not division but reconciliation and integration, and the Empress herself believes that the harsh treaty imposed on the Republic is unjust in the same context.

But how can the victim of extreme confrontation and division promote the same confrontation and division!

Such stories, like the chirping of a bird, flowed endlessly from that small mouth.

“But the ‘cooperation plan’ I heard from the Prime Minister was very, very, very interesting! Is there any way to expand the scope of cooperation? The suffering countries are not only the Empire and the Republic. For example, the United States across the sea is also in the midst of a civil war right now-”

…It didn’t end.

The nobles, who had been interested in approaching the person who recently became the center of attention, saw their Empress, who had switched on and was chattering away-

“Oh, hehe…”

With awkward smiles, they turned away one by one.

Don’t run away! Please take your Empress with you!

In the end, I muttered with hollow eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

This was the price I paid for causing trouble in another country.

I even had a rational suspicion that the Empress had seen through my schemes and was now ‘punishing’ me.

I glanced at her.

But from that bright face, singing about ‘peace in our time,’ I couldn’t detect any such signs.

“……”

However, according to the original storyline.

Her cry for ideal peace would, in a few years, be brutally crushed.

At that moment.

“Oh my, isn’t this the person who wields the tongue of a serpent?”

I turned my head at the voice from beside me.

A person who could interrupt even while their Empress was chattering must be of considerable status. Moreover, that voice, filled with disdain towards me.

“Prime Minister.”

The person at the pinnacle of the Logres Empire’s bureaucracy was looking at me with great displeasure.

‘We were on good terms, you bastard. Did you have to cause this much trouble?’

‘We needed to expand our influence.’

Such conversations were exchanged with glances.

The Prime Minister wiped the displeasure from his face and first bowed to the Empress with a smiling face.

“Your Majesty.”

Then he asked with his eyes if he could join the conversation.

Perpetua allowed it with an elegant gesture. It was a silent gesture that perfectly matched the etiquette of high society.

The problem was that her enthusiastic nodding completely ruined that elegance.

“Hehe.”

Prime Minister Mycroft gave a resigned smile as he took his seat.

Creak!

His ample belly pressed against the table, causing it to wobble.

“Oh dear, my apologies.”

“I’ll let it slide this once, Prime Minister, since I had so much fun playing with that ‘cushion’ when I was young.”

Perpetua said playfully.

The Prime Minister blinked, then burst into laughter.

“What? Hahaha! Oh, Your Majesty. It wasn’t just this old man you played with. Hardly anyone at court hasn’t been run into by Your Majesty rushing around.”

“So, I try to forgive everyone!”

The Prime Minister looked at the Empress, who spoke with such a bright voice, and smiled. However, there was a hint of melancholy in that smile.

“……”

Mycroft Holmes.

The Empress’s guard dog. And the brain of the old lion.

Someone of his caliber would surely know.

That the future coming was the exact opposite of the ‘peace of our time’ that the Empress desired.

At this point, the only people certain of the next war’s arrival were either lunatics (or those possessed by knowledge), but anyone could read the trend that the whole world was moving towards division and isolation in response to the crisis.

Thus, the next ‘great war’ in this world might not necessarily come in the form I knew.

‘The whole world is a powder keg.’

Even a single spark could lead to a catastrophe, even if it wasn’t from the country that started the war in the original story. These potential risk factors were numerous.

If there were only one or two, they could be controlled somehow, but the overall trend of the world moving in that direction was an unavoidable truth.

“If Her Majesty has such sentiments, you must especially avoid associating with such a person. This young man is only getting more cunning—”

The Prime Minister’s tone was playful but carried a hint of seriousness as he struck at me with his words.

“—!!”

“――!”

Shouts came from outside.

Then gunfire followed!

“!”

I jumped to my feet.

The next moment, a group of guards burst through the window.

“Kyah!”

“What is happening!”

“Guards! Guards!”

The disheveled uniforms and bloodstains on them indicated they were pointing guns at the scattering nobles.

The Empress’s blue eyes widened in fear. As she cried out, “No!”—

Bang! Bang! Bang, bang, bang!

The massacre began.

The group, who had clearly obtained the uniforms and firearms of the guards, unleashed a barrage before the real guards could properly position themselves.

And at the same time, there was a heavy mechanical noise coming from outside the window.

“Mech units!”

“Did they raid the guard armory?”

Boom!

A scream was drowned out by an explosion.

The sound of cannons roared, and a massive shockwave blasted through the Separate Palace.

One side of the outer wall crumbled, sending debris and a cloud of dust sweeping through. The glass dome ceiling shattered, raining down razor-sharp shards.

Amidst the chaos.

“Found them!”

“It’s the Prime Minister! The Empress is here too!”

At that moment, my “Black Heart” thumped violently.

With a strange pulsation, everything in front of me became clearer and slower.

A fake guardsman knelt in a practiced motion. He firmly braced his rifle, taking aim like a seasoned hunter.

The experience ingrained in ‘Eugene Hastings’ brought the specs of the rifle to my mind.

Automatically filtering out all unnecessary information, only one spec became vividly clear.

There was no burst fire capability.

The sniper was alone.

And—

‘Subsonic ammo for hunting.’

Before I could even think about what that meant, I was already moving toward the imagined trajectory line.

Before the shooter could pull the trigger, my fingers accelerated with a small ‘pop’ sound.

I swung my arm like a whip.

The fake guardsman, veins bulging in his neck, shouted.

“Sic Semper Tyrannis!”

Bang!

The muzzle flashed a fraction of a second too late.

In my heightened senses, for just one frame, I saw it.

The accelerating bullet vaguely visible in my sight.

I felt a burning pain in my hand.

Swoosh!

Sliding on one knee, I skidded to the ground.

The shooter noticed my dive belatedly, realizing that he had fired but nothing had happened.

“!”

He looked utterly bewildered.

I was confused too.

Why did this ‘instinctive angle’ make my body move on its own?

It took me quite a while to understand what I had done.

I opened my right hand, which was throbbing with sharp, burning pain.

In my palm lay a bloodied bullet.

Even if I had known the target in advance, if there had been just two snipers, it would have been impossible. Even with subsonic rounds, this was a feat that shouldn’t be attempted.

No matter the conditions, this was not something a human could do.

I had caught the bullet.