IWBNAM Chapter 3 (Part 1)
by Brie- Retired Marshal
How long would that Azani, who loved working so much he seemed likely to die clutching his desk, be able to endure the monotonous life of a retired marshal?
People were extremely curious about that. Most believed, “Azani is pretending to rest on the outside, but behind the scenes he’s secretly busy plotting something.” They were certain he was hiding in the shadows, pulling strings through various puppets to interfere in Imperial politics.
Occasionally, high-ranking figures in society would visit Azani under the excuse of asking after his well-being, trying to gauge his mood. They would talk about this and that, about how the world was turning, and then quietly slip in a shared question. Isn’t retirement life boring?
“It’s not. Every day feels refreshing and thrilling. I like it very much.”
Playing is the best. He had no friends to gather with, but he liked it anyway.
Ask him again years later and the answer might be different. But it had been less than a month, and people were already tiptoeing around, constantly repeating the same question over and over. That was what felt more creepy. Did they really want to ask him that even at his private estate, even at a vacation resort?
Lee Juwon refused all visitation requests under the excuse of resting and headed for the armchair with a glass of wine in hand. The detached house he was staying in on Neue Santorini Island was designed so that the beautiful ocean scenery could be seen in full no matter where you stood, and he especially loved the armchair inside the second-floor study.
How should he put it? Maybe he could say it felt like vividly savoring the life he had always dreamed of?
Living each day while burning through half a year’s salary of a lower-ranked civil servant felt nothing short of heavenly. In his past life, after the CSAT ended, his parents had splurged and booked a Southeast Asian resort pool villa for about a million won per night, yet now he alone was spending more than ten times that amount. It was truly incredible.
The original Azani never got to enjoy any of this pleasure. Don’t feel bad. I’ll enjoy it for you.
With a full smile on his face, Lee Juwon looked out the window. He was glad he had come to this resort modeled after Earth-era Santorini.
Well, it wasn’t as if he had come here immediately after beginning his retirement. For the first few days, he had stayed locked inside the house. Sleeping, then sleeping again, and sleeping some more. Determined to perfectly replenish all the sleep he had lost over the years, he slept endlessly without restraint.
Because he didn’t even think about going outside and only lazed around in the bedroom, his personal secretary began suspecting that His Excellency had secretly been placed under house arrest, and the head of security became convinced he had won the most cushy post in the Empire. Only then did Lee Juwon finally decide to go out and put on proper clothes. Not a suit, but casual attire.
Instead of the greasy, old-fashioned slicked-back hairstyle, he let his bangs fall naturally like in his previous life. For the record, he had thrown out all the pomade and hair wax a few days earlier.
His originally longish hair was tied up in a deliberately careless, chic thorny low bun, and after putting on a sweater with a slightly raised collar, he draped a soft beige long cardigan over it. To the Westerners, who considered rugged masculinity the standard look, he might seem lacking in manliness and too youthful, but who cared? A retired Imperial Marshal had no reason to worry about subordinates judging his appearance.
But for those who had only ever seen Azani in perfectly immaculate attire for years, the sight struck like shock and horror. Their eyes widened as the newly transformed retired Marshal Azani finally stepped outside the house. Lee Juwon paid no mind and boarded his private car. He decided he would generously feed bait to all outsiders curious about his whereabouts.
On a weekday morning, at a time when most ordinary people were busy working, he went to a five-star hotel café and ordered an afternoon tea set. He had asked for it just for fun, thinking the timing would make it impossible, but the manager prepared it right away, and he enjoyed it thoroughly. The authority of an Imperial Marshal truly was impressive.
Within hours, word spread of the retired Marshal Azani abusing his power, and some were shocked beyond belief, but Lee Juwon ignored it. If they thought it unjust, they were free to try impeaching him. But remember this. An Imperial Marshal cannot be punished for anything other than treason. Such were the limits of the nation’s judiciary.
In the afternoon, he headed to the Imperial Central Museum, a place he hadn’t visited in years. Although Azani’s memories and abilities had synchronized with him when he took over the body, Lee Juwon wanted to personally see, hear, and learn about this world’s history. He also wanted to confirm whether he truly had possessed someone inside a novel.
The world I live in…
He studied the exhibits while recalling the history contained within Azani’s memories. Against all odds, Earth had managed not to be destroyed by environmental pollution, World War III, disease, mega earthquakes, zombies, alien invasions, rapture events, or anything else, and eventually succeeded in sending a manned spacecraft beyond the solar system. In the year 2168 CE, Space Era Year 1 began.
There were problems, of course, but space development progressed actively. There was no colony war like often depicted in Japan’s famous G series anime. People still seemed to have a romantic attachment to humanoid flight robots, but practicality won out, so they had never been mass-produced.
It was around the time warp technology was developed and the number of habitable planets outside the solar system reached five. Friction intensified between Earth, humanity’s birthplace, and the colonial planets, and tension grew daily as everyone wondered if the inevitable was finally coming. Then, something unthinkable struck Earth. The Ring of Fire erupted in a chain of massive explosions.
Scenes humanity had only ever seen in disaster movies unfolded in reality. Unable to withstand the immense tectonic shifts, megacities collapsed one after another, and every coastline was devastated by gigantic tsunamis. Volcanic ash covered the sky, and radiation spread from countless melted nuclear power plants.
Earth was finished. It became an uninhabitable planet. Even the colonists, who had once spat hateful curses at Earth, found themselves screaming in grief. Earth was ruined.
Of course, many survivors remained. Because humanity had already reached space to some extent before the tragedy struck, they avoided a situation where they could do nothing but wait for extinction after an irreversible disaster.
Humanity buried the tragedy deep in its heart and vowed unity, plunging even more passionately into space development. Terraforming technology advanced, and the number of habitable planets reached double digits.
In this golden age, the ideology people cherished most was liberalism. They respected individuality and minimized all restrictions on freedom.
But another tragedy of humanity began growing in that environment. Some extreme groups intoxicated with space development began conducting research that violated the ethics of life. Terraforming was marvelous, yes. But why should a generation that now traversed the universe live exactly like the outdated Earth era? Shouldn’t they evolve and adapt to new environments?
There had been signs already. Some individuals who valued personal expression began claiming their identity was that of elves or butterfly-folk, modifying their bodies by sharpening their ears or dyeing their skin blue, and gathering together to form tribes or races. Anyone who frowned upon this was criticized as being politically incorrect. Individual freedom was sacred above all.
Conservative groups, harboring resentment, began forming their own factions. It was comfortable and reassuring to communicate with people of the same roots.
Why must we accept multiculturalism? Why must we forcibly balance the ratio to harmonize with people of color?
Freedom is important, but look at them. Is that truly freedom? Isn’t this just foolishness encouraged by vulgar capitalists? Body modification costs money. After the Americans lost Earth, their homeland, they seemed to be stirring things from behind the scenes to reclaim their privileged status.
The German-descended and French-descended populations secured planets as their home bases and expanded their territories. Eventually, descendants of other nations followed suit. All of them secretly predicted it. The Union was nearing its limit.
And they were right. The Union grew old and sick, losing its grip on power. Regional warlords rose. Those who first pretended to be mere long-term rulers began claiming kingship. The medieval era returned to space. Anyone who possessed at least one Earth-tier planet and a sizable population rushed to declare themselves a kingdom.
Perhaps the nature of humanity never changes even when the era does.
A republic became divided, and then someone appeared dreaming of unification again, seizing the masses with charisma…
Lee Juwon’s knowledge of history had ended with what he learned in secondary school, but after possessing Azani and gaining his memories, he found it quite fascinating. He thought the flow of human history was interesting.
Anyway, that was how things progressed to the present day. Repeating itself tirelessly. Then who among historical figures did the current Emperor resemble the most? Alexander the Great?
No, he shouldn’t think about that. It felt ominous. Heroes who died young were a bit…
Someday I want to visit Earth too.
Looking at the artifacts unearthed from Earth, he imagined the beloved home planet. Earth had not been abandoned after the natural disasters and radiation crisis. Humanity’s science and technology had advanced enough to restore even the most polluted land.
Earth, which had undergone radiation decontamination work for a long time, had now become a fairly lively planet filled with scholars, tourists, and treasure hunters. Once the radiation, the biggest issue, was removed, humanity’s birthplace offered far too much to gain. There were also many regions that had escaped natural disasters. They had all collapsed after being abandoned for ages, though.
It was said that if you ever went on a tour of Earth, there were certain things you absolutely had to do. First, take a commemorative photo in front of the collapsed Eiffel Tower. Then take another in front of the half-buried upper torso of the Statue of Liberty on the New York coastline, ah, that one was a replica created to perfectly imitate the scene from the classic movie Planet of the Apes, since the real Statue of Liberty had shattered completely without a trace.
And of course, you had to buy a chimpanzee doll as a souvenir, hug it, and take a photo with it. The third essential photo spot was the Egyptian pyramids. Even after three thousand years of the Common Era, the pyramids still stood strong. They would likely remain even after humanity went extinct.
Why were all the must-do activities focused on taking pictures? Because in the end, what remains from travel is the record. It was one of the most strongly recommended activities in every Earth tour package. It might have seemed cliché, but every tourist had been satisfied.
‘Hmm. I really let my mind wander after coming to the museum.’
Deciding he would have to visit again, Lee Juwon turned away. It wasn’t a place one could finish touring in a single day. He had plenty of time, so he could come back leisurely.
The past was the past. What direction would the world take next? He trusted that His Majesty Sirius would guide it well. Unfortunately, Azani would no longer be by his side.
‘I’m just going to enjoy myself.’
Leaving behind the glances of visitors who belatedly realized the great retired Marshal Azani was in their midst, Lee Juwon walked out with a light step. His bucket list was long.
One day, he visited the Imperial Opera House to watch a play. One of the privileges of an Imperial Marshal was that using imperial and state-run facilities was free of charge. There was no way he would pass up taking the special seat of that magnificent opera house for free.
‘So this is the life of the wealthy with too much time and money…’
In his previous life, Lee Juwon had no interest in places like the Seoul Arts Center. He thought it was far more cost-efficient to watch flashy, spectacular blockbuster movies in IMAX than to attend art performances lacking strong thrills. But once he sat in the central VIP seat and watched the Empire’s highest-level performance, his values changed. After experiencing that kind of shiver, one no screen could provide, he fell completely into this new hobby.
As retired Marshal Azani began visiting the opera house almost every night, the arts community rejoiced and thanked him. Most of the current high-ranking officers were lower-noble or commoner-born and had zero interest in high-class artistic performances; unless there was a special occasion, they never visited voluntarily. Rumor even spread that unless the Emperor and Empress came, the central VIP seat would essentially remain Azani’s personal seat.
Around the time sarcastic remarks began circulating about how fitting it was for a noble of prestigious lineage to have such refined tastes, and how he clearly knew how to appreciate high art, Lee Juwon started touring large supermarkets. The reason was simple, he wanted to buy ingredients for Korean food. The meals cooked by the housemaids were delicious, but they were Western dishes, so if he wanted Korean food, he had to make it himself.
Unfortunately, within the Rosenburg City State, the core of the Imperial capital planet Alpha, there was not a single proper Korean restaurant. To be precise, there were places serving food for commoners, but no high-end Korean cuisine establishments. At most, fancy Japanese or Chinese restaurants carried a few “Korean-style” dishes.
This was largely because near the end of the Old Union, many Korean-descended people had sided with the American descendants, and their cultural influence had weakened. Japanese descendants were also pro-American, but they had always crafted their image well, so they were relatively unaffected. As a result, if classy gentlemen and ladies in Rosenburg wanted something vaguely similar to Korean cuisine in a refined setting, the quickest option was to go to a Japanese restaurant.
Who would understand the feeling of having to see kimuchi, yakiniku, bibinpa, chijimi, and burugogi written on a fancy Japanese menu? K-drama Octopus Game, and global K-pop idol ENTITY… ah, do the people of this world truly not know? Haah. Forget it.
When it came to culture, Lee Juwon had a lot to say. Leaving aside the fact that this world belonged to a different dimension from the one he had lived in, its worldview was fundamentally based on conservative white European norms, which made its popular culture boring. Even considering the censorship that stifled creative freedom, it was unbearably dull for a person from the 21st century. Put nicely, everything was solemn and serious. Put bluntly… well.
On television, so-called variety shows consisted of reading books aloud and engaging in refined debates. Wasn’t that just an educational program? Did having a few actors and singers in it suddenly make it entertainment?
Private broadcasting companies did attempt comedy shows, but they were mediocre.
The only somewhat tolerable ones were competition-type programs. Cooking, singing, sports shows, or those where contestants sliced differently shaped objects perfectly in half, those were popular. In Lee Juwon’s eyes, if they sprinkled just a little MSG on top, the shows would be far more enjoyable, but the broadcast industry lacked that sense.
‘If only I weren’t the Imperial Marshal.’
He stayed quiet purely to preserve the dignity of the position. Otherwise he would have already entered the broadcast industry. Even if he only mixed together what he had seen and heard in the 21st century and adapted it to this world’s standards, people would go crazy for it. Even now, there were people secretly smuggling in and enjoying the Union’s underground pop culture. If someone opened the floodgates, change would sweep in immediately.
‘If I end up forming connections with people in broadcasting someday, should I quietly give them a few ideas?’
Idol 101 would be impossible. They would see the voting system as a threat to Imperial order. Maybe something safe like Crime Scene? Business shows? Farming shows? The problem wasn’t the program itself but the directing. With their rigid editing style, everything blended together.
With so much free time, he wandered around letting his mind drift endlessly. He toured large supermarkets and specialty stores dealing in rare ingredients, and managed to obtain most of what he wanted. But he had to give up on sesame oil and perilla oil. Even with the power of an Imperial Marshal, it was impossible to get the truly high-quality oils his mother had somehow acquired back in the 21st century. Surely somewhere in the Asian districts they existed, but no one would reveal the source to him. It was tragic.
‘Maybe they don’t trust my cooking skills and think using premium oil on me would be a waste.’
There was no way they were pretending not to know because they disliked Marshal Azani… right? Impossible. Nael de Azani was Korean. His mother’s surname had been Kim. Which was why his childhood nickname had been Gim-Nael… ahem. Why did he remember that?
Back home, he tried cooking Korean dishes. Aside from the large first-floor kitchen, there was also a smaller kitchen on the second floor. Well, it was called a small kitchen, but it was the size of a decent middle-class household’s kitchen.
Azani had basic cooking skills, and Lee Juwon had been preparing to become a cooking content creator with the concept of a warm, home-cooking male student, so when the two sets of skills combined, the result was excellent. Whatever he made turned out great.
He served the dishes to his subordinates. The head of security and his personal secretary returned to their own homes about once a week, spending most days living at Azani’s estate.
When he made too much, he shared with the servants and security staff as well. The results were overwhelmingly positive. It wasn’t flattery because a superior had cooked it himself. The food was simply genuinely delicious, and they honestly admired it. At least, that was the obvious conclusion.
This small routine quickly spread as a rumor, with a slight twist. If you wanted to get on Marshal Azani’s good side, you absolutely had to practice using chopsticks. Only then could you earn his favor if you ever shared a meal with him.
‘Is that so? Maybe that’s true?’
Tilting his head, Lee Juwon eventually nodded. It wasn’t wrong. When he wore simple everyday clothes and visited commoner restaurants, if his companion naturally matched the mood and ate well with him, he felt closer to them. Enough that he might help them a little if they ever needed a small favor.
After briefly looking back on the past few weeks, Lee Juwon finished the remaining wine and set the glass down on the table beside the armchair. Even to himself, he seemed like someone who had adapted excellently to retirement life. During the day he visited museums and art galleries, then stopped by the market on his way home to cook simple meals, and at night he went out searching for artistic performances.
It wasn’t just the change in appearance. Someone who had, out of inferiority toward his mixed heritage, deliberately avoided East Asian culture was now openly enjoying East Asian food. He wondered how those who were warily observing Azani’s actions would interpret this. Would they truly believe that Azani was enjoying retirement?
‘The little pranks I pulled just to mess with those self-proclaimed analysts were so much fun.’
Even after nearly a month of retirement, the interest surrounding him didn’t show any sign of fading, so he did something impulsive for amusement. He suddenly visited a regional court and sat in on the trial of a small criminal case that had absolutely nothing to do with him.
The result was astonishing. Breaking news flashed across the networks announcing that retired Marshal Azani was observing a criminal trial. Reporters rushed over demanding interviews, and a live discussion program was urgently scheduled to seriously debate the political meaning behind his action.
Watching so-called experts, wearing name tags like “Senior Analyst” or “Special Commentator,” desperately trying to interpret his intentions while he munched popcorn was endlessly entertaining.
Why had retired Marshal Azani taken interest in that particular trial? Why else. Just because. It was nothing but a prank. He knew that the Imperial officials had gathered their aides and worked hard to decipher his hidden motive. How unfortunate for them, there was none.
‘You’ve developed quite the wicked hobby, sir.’
When Gilbert, curious about the reason, came to the house and asked, Lee Juwon simply answered, “For fun.” Gilbert laughed, saying he had suspected as much. The ripple effects of that small prank lasted for several days. Rumor said that those who had chased the wrong idea for so long eventually realized the truth, turned red in the face, and drowned themselves in strong liquor.
‘There must still be plenty who continue watching my every move, unable to give up.’
It had only been about a month, so he could endure it. With a cynical smile, Lee Juwon stood up. If they didn’t believe him, he would simply keep enjoying retirement life right in front of them until they did. And he had every intention of maintaining this performance, though it hardly felt like one, for as long as necessary.
The next day as well, he woke up late, enjoyed a fresh Mediterranean-style brunch, and took a leisurely walk along the coast. He chose a café with a good view, took an outdoor table, and drank an iced Americano. Tourists began recognizing him and stealing glances.
“Is that Marshal Azani over there?”
“Really? He looks completely different.”
He wasn’t going to use a strict mystique strategy. If one wanted to live as a public figure, one had to be seen by ordinary people to some extent.
“His style changed so much I almost didn’t recognize him.”
“Would he give me an autograph if I asked?”
He hadn’t intended to become popular, but once he changed his style, people began to warm up to him.
Today he wore a thin knit top with a loose neckline that exposed his collarbone and soft, flowing black pants. When he sat with his legs crossed, his ankles showed cleanly. It was ordinary resort fashion, yet the idea that the infamously strict Chief of Staff Azani was dressed like this fascinated everyone. He could feel people openly staring, even taking pictures.
‘Phew. So this is a celebrity’s daily life.’
The Empire had social networks as well. They required paid subscriptions and were heavily censored, but communication through the network was possible.
The photos taken now would be uploaded to Alpha’s network within hours, and in a day the data would be transmitted to nearby planets. It would take about a week for it to spread through the Empire-wide communications grid.
‘No matter what photos get taken, the ones who want to insult me will insult me.’
He shouldn’t care too much. Interest always fades eventually. Two months? At most a year? Who would stay curious about a retired marshal’s daily life? There were dozens of far more important war heroes still actively serving.
‘By then… maybe I could get married.’
Gazing out at the sea, Lee Juwon cautiously sketched out one possibility for his future. The original Azani had given up on romance and marriage early. But the possessed Azani felt differently. After living two months in this body, he realized he needed a family. If someone stood by him no matter what, maybe the deep loneliness lodged in his heart would finally disappear.
‘A rabbit-like adorable wife, and exactly two children shaped like red pandas.’
He hoped for two daughters if possible, though such things were never up to the parents.
Traveling was nice, but wandering around alone due to too much free time felt lonely. A place with a nightly cost equivalent to half a year’s civil servant salary was far too large and empty for one person. He wanted someone to share affection with. Someone he could love without calculations.
‘Pets are out of the question.’
Whenever he thought of the hamster Azani had cherished… ah, forget it. It only brought pain.
Back to the marriage issue, the problem was where and how he would meet that person.
He knew that if he merely hinted at being open to marriage, people around him would rush to recommend countless suitable candidates. Regardless of his reputation, he was still only in his mid-thirties as an Imperial Marshal. He was wealthy, and his appearance wasn’t bad. He had no in-laws or relatives to worry about, and he wasn’t violent or lecherous. As a public figure he might have been ruthless and cold, but privately he was known to be perfectly sensible and polite.
‘I’d probably receive dozens, if not hundreds, of photos of excellent candidates.’
But arranged marriage didn’t appeal to him. Did he really need to marry based on conditions? It wasn’t like he planned to return to politics.
He wanted something natural. A luxury that was almost impossible for someone in his position. He understood better than anyone that he couldn’t start a relationship based solely on liking a person for who they were.
‘Let’s think about it slowly. There’s plenty of time.’
Without realizing it, Lee Juwon let out a soft laugh and lifted his drink for another sip, only to find nothing left but ice. He called a waiter for a refill.
‘There were so many people who insisted that iced Americano was an insult to coffee.’
He remembered how his secretary had been shocked when he casually asked for an iced Americano after possession. Even a thousand years after the 21st century, at least in upper society, diluting espresso with ice water was unacceptable.
‘But I’m retired now, and there’s no one left for me to tiptoe around.’
Taking a sip of the freshly filled iced coffee, Lee Juwon smiled in satisfaction. It was spring. Or rather, summer, at least in this resort.
The most talked-about figure in the Empire recently was, without question, retired Marshal Azani. It was a very different kind of talk compared to the past, when his cold and ruthless behavior during active service often became material for drunken gossip. Now, he was attracting attention in a somewhat more positive direction.
[Marshal Azani’s choice. The afternoon tea set at Hotel Medici.]
It began with this. After attending the wedding, Azani hadn’t left his house for several days, making some people quietly hope he might have died. But then, at last, he went out.
His destination was the café of the five-star Hotel Medici, The Glory of Medici.
The outing itself wasn’t strange, but his shockingly transformed appearance soon spread far and wide as breaking news.
The man who had always wrapped himself in a neat uniform and kept every strand of hair slicked back without a single flaw appeared before the public looking completely different. His bangs were down, and the back of his hair was tied up loosely with stray strands slipping out as if hastily twisted. He wore casual clothing instead of a formal suit. Anyone who only remembered the old Azani would never have recognized him at first glance.
Even that much could be accepted, perhaps. It was natural to dress comfortably for a private outing rather than an official schedule. But the surprising part didn’t stop there. At the hotel café, Azani did something he never would have done before.
[Marshal Azani demands an afternoon tea set during brunch hours!]
For reasons no one could fathom, Azani visited the hotel café on a weekday morning and boldly ordered the afternoon tea set. He was someone who would definitely know the café didn’t serve it until 1:30 p.m.
Had a normal person done the same, the staff would first have said no, then politely asked them to leave. But because of who he was, the manager bowed. Upon hearing that the honored Marshal had arrived unexpectedly, the manager rushed over, and the moment Azani stated his request, the manager ordered his staff to fulfill it immediately.
Azani occupied a four-person window table alone, drank coffee, tea, milk tea, and lemonade, and finished every dessert on the three-tier tray before leaving with a satisfied expression. People’s reactions to this incident were explosive.
[This is clearly an abuse of power by the Imperial Marshal. How could he demand an afternoon tea set during brunch hours? This is tyranny!]
[Morning guests were deeply shocked by Marshal Azani’s unreasonable behavior… some claimed mental distress…]
[Is it acceptable for a retired Marshal to retain such privileges?]
[The manager is the problem. How could a hotelier fail to handle such rude behavior firmly? Where is his professional pride?]
[Comments]
Is the afternoon tea set at The Glory of Medici good? Is it worth two hundred euros per person?
└Please hurry and book. I heard this month’s reservations are already sold out.
└Unrelated question, but does anyone know the brand of clothes Marshal Azani was wearing? It’s urgent!
└Marshal… you know the afternoon tea set at Hotel Casablanca is much better, right…?
└Did he not know Medici’s desserts don’t even rank in the top 12 among five-star hotels?
Later, it was revealed that Marshal Azani had simply chosen the most convenient place to stop on his way from home to the Imperial Central Museum. Regardless of intention, the promotional effect was enormous. Hotel Medici’s recognition skyrocketed instantly, and all afternoon tea reservations filled up rapidly.
Not only that, once his photos began circulating online, the stock price of the clothing brand he was presumed to be wearing, which had recently been falling, rose slightly. By the time retired Marshal Azani came out of the museum, swift-footed reporters were lingering at the front entrance, and a 24-hour news channel that valued on-site coverage began reporting his outing almost in real time.