Worthless Skill Escape (WN)

Chapter 218

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TL: ALT

Chapter 218 – The Selfless King Part 1

◆??? POV

The Prime Minister’s office, with the Japanese flag flying, was smaller than I had imagined.

It was furnished with the appropriate furnishings for a country representative, but there were limits to what could be afforded with public funds.

As the head of a large company, I didn’t find it particularly special.

I’m sure most former prime ministers felt a great deal of emotion when they first sat in this seat.

In fact, objectively speaking, it’s not that big of a deal―to become the leader of a country of 120 million people.

But, as I thought, I didn’t feel any particular emotion.

“I guess I just don’t have any feelings.”

I know that people generally think I’m a psychopath.

That’s not what I’m talking about.

When I say I don’t have emotions, I’m not talking about being cold-blooded.

I lack cold-bloodedness just as I lack other emotions.

In this sense, I would even say that I am not cold-blooded.

It is not the case that I grew up without knowing affection because I was abused by my parents.

I don’t concern myself with a story of personality development that is easy for everyone to understand.

It is probably true, objectively speaking that I grew up in a strange environment.

My grandmother, who was a spiritualist, took me in and raised me.

It’s not that I had no parents.

It’s not that I was abandoned.

It’s just that my grandmother saw something in my young self and decided to raise me to be the “king’s vessel” that she herself aspired to be.

My parents apparently just meekly obeyed the decision of my grandmother, who was known as a spiritualist and a powerful figure in various circles.

My grandmother, who had infiltrated the heart of power before and during the war, had publicly expressed her “disappointment” with the politicians and military officers who had almost destroyed the country and, even more disrespectfully, with the emperor himself.

Although her outspoken nature had attracted the attention of the Special Higher Police during the war, my grandmother was never imprisoned because of her admirers in positions of power.

In medieval Western courts, it was said that the king sometimes had a court jester who would tell the truth to the king’s close associates, and my grandmother’s role was similar.

My grandmother was not just a fortune-teller, a spiritualist, or a simple madwoman.

My grandmother’s predictions, which she claimed were possessed by a god, were all correct, and the politicians, military men, and bureaucrats she had her eye on quickly rose to prominence.

My grandmother could call out the souls of the dead like a spiritualist.

When my grandmother, who said she could call the spirits of soldiers who had died on the battlefield, began to criticize the old military, there was even an incident where a soldier drew his sword and tried to attack her.

Surprisingly for me, it seems that my grandmother was not an evil person until the war.

Rather, she was a good and gentle woman who would never compromise herself.

As I mentioned earlier, during the war, my grandmother used her ability to “summon the spirits” of soldiers who had died in battle.

This was not something my grandmother did on her own.

She was asked to do it by someone in the Imperial Household, and she did it to learn about the local war situation from the dead.

At that time, this country had even resorted to praying to the gods to do something about the worsening war situation.

However, my grandmother never talked about the situation in the war zone.

All that came out of her mouth were things like the pain of dying and the resentment towards the superiors and the military.

The soldiers who were killed by bullets were still better off.

The soldiers who burned to death in the flames.

The soldiers whose limbs were blown off by bombs and who died covered with their own internal organs.

The soldiers starved to death, sucking on the leather of their boots because their rations ran out.

The soldiers who drowned in the small submarines were used for suicide attacks.

The soldiers who were forced to commit suicide by their superiors and killed by their own army against their will…

They were not the kind of heroes the military had in mind.

Of course, I’m not saying there weren’t heroes who died in the service of such ideals.

But those who were forced to stay in this world by their grudges often cursed their fate for forcing them to die in this way.

And they directed their curses at those who had survived.

In the beginning, my grandmother only conducted the mouth-to-mouth communication of the deceased at the request of the bereaved families.

After it became clear that the content of the spirit communication was “disappointing” to the leadership of the time, my grandmother was no longer called upon.

However, for some reason, my grandmother continued to persistently communicate with the spirits of the soldiers who had died in battle.

It was as if she was possessed by something.

Possessed or not, the fact is that my grandmother was indeed communicating with the spirits…

My grandmother’s spiritualism continued even after Japan accepted the Potsdam Declaration and the war ended.

At that time, she could no longer control herself.

The more she was possessed by the spirits, the more her prophetic powers became acute.

In her mind, the living and the dead, this world and the next, the front and home, the past and the present, were indistinguishable.

Burdened with the resentment of those who had died in vain, my grandmother hated the war leaders of this country with all her heart.

It is said that her curses harmed the health of several leaders and sometimes even took their lives.

However, my grandmother eventually realized

That no matter how many leaders she cursed to death, in time, the same kind of people would just take their place.

To my grandmother, who could no longer distinguish between the past and the present, even the democratic politicians of the postwar period seemed as guilty as the wartime leaders in their thoughts.

My grandmother began to worry about the country.

Although the soldiers who died in the war were consumed by their grudges, some of them died in the service of their country.

Even if they weren’t such passionate patriots, they still had some of those feelings.

Even if they were somewhat intoxicated by the cause of fighting for their country, they would still resent their country if they were sacrificed in a reckless strategy.

I think that was the state of mind of the average soldier at that time.

The patriotism of the soldiers who died in battle, whose resentment was like a basso continuo of contradiction and conflict, turned my grandmother into a patriot.

My grandmother thought.

If the politicians of this country do not change, this country will eventually make the same mistakes.

In order to get out of this situation, we cannot leave things to the natural course of events.

I have to create a ‘king’ for this country.

My grandmother continued to think.

What is a ‘king’?

What is the ideal king?

My grandmother’s answer was simple.

The ideal king is one who is selfless.

This conclusion of my grandmother’s would determine the direction of my life, no, even the way of my soul.

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