Inner Justice (1)
After the successful raid on the Cheongju Gate, a meeting between Leon and President Ahn was swiftly arranged.
"Good day, I'm President Ahn Dong-gil."
"Pleasure to meet you. I am Leon Dragonia Lionheart."
Outside the presidential office, President Ahn shook hands with Leon, noting with surprise that the young man had a better impression than he expected.
"He's quite handsome."
At a glance, he just looked like a good-looking guy in his twenties. Had he not been king for long?
"Let's take a photo together. Smile~"
The president waved cheerfully under the camera flashes of the press. He could already see the headlines for the next day.
"Heh, this'll make a great photo-op."
President Ahn Poses with Leon, the Survivor Making Headlines: Strengthening Ties with the Hunters
That kind of headline would be enough to create some buzz.
It had been 30 years since the Great Cataclysm. The nation's top interest remained the gates and the feats of the hunters.
While the gates had wreaked catastrophic havoc across human history, they also gave rise to superstars known as hunters.
Hunters, who were viewed as heroes saving humanity from monsters, made great political allies. There was no downside in keeping them close.
"Leon… May I address you as Your Majesty?"
"By all means, President Ahn."
President Ahn and his aides had even held a meeting on how to treat Leon.
He claimed to be a king from beyond the gate, and even called himself an agent of the gods.
Should they honor his claims, or treat him like any other survivor or citizen?
In the end, they decided to treat him like a monarch, similar to the Queen of England. If Leon had no real power, it'd be a different matter—but he was no ordinary man. He had power beyond even S-rank hunters.
It made no sense to offend a superhuman being over something as petty as titles.
"Shall we eat first? We've prepared a banquet in your honor, Your Majesty."
So far, so good. If they could keep the mood light over dinner, Ahn's political goal would be achieved.
As they made their way to the banquet hall, trailed by journalists, Leon suddenly stopped.
"How rude."
"…Excuse me?"
Leon's sudden comment caused the president, his aides, and the reporters to freeze. Seeing their confused faces, Leon asked the president:
"President Ahn. Who are these people?"
Leon pointed at the journalists. Ahn replied cautiously.
"They're… reporters."
"So, they're not servants who attend the royal table."
"Servants?"
What kind of outdated thing was that to say? As President Ahn struggled to respond—
"How dare they! How can commoners walk into a royal banquet with dirt on their feet? A king does not dine with commoners!"
"...!!!!"
Everyone—reporters, aides, even the president—gasped in shock.
Did I really just hear that? In the 21st century?
"Y-Your Majesty Leon, please—"
"Stand aside! Act within the bounds of your station, commoners!"
"Wait, what?!"
What the hell is this guy doing? Is he trying to end my political career?!
President Ahn could already see the next day's headlines:
"Authoritarian Survivor's Shocking Outburst at State Banquet with President"
Image damage and a drop in approval ratings were basically guaranteed. Ahn quickly moved to do damage control.
"Haha, His Majesty Leon seems unfamiliar with how reporters work. It's just a cultural misunderstanding, really. And that's what multiculturalism is about—understanding differences, right?"
Sweating profusely, Ahn tried to laugh it off as a misunderstanding. As a result, only a few individuals were allowed to remain at the banquet.
Still, he managed to let one reporter stay, which was a small win.
Whew, thank goodness. At least it's a pro-government news outlet.
Just as Ahn let out a sigh of relief, Leon dropped another bomb.
"Much better without those noisy rats."
Please stop!
Was he trying to bring down the president under orders from the opposition party? Did he want to paint him as a classist in this day and age?
Ahn scrambled to change the subject.
"Your Majesty Leon, how are you finding life in Korea?"
"Thanks to your hospitality, I'm living comfortably. However, President…"
"Yes?"
"Why does a king address another king with such deference? Please, speak freely."
"Ah, no, I prefer it this way."
You're not actually a king, though!
"Hm… if you insist."
He calls the press "commoners," yet treats me with kindness? President Ahn wondered if this man really thought of the presidency as a kind of kingship.
As they dined, the president did his best to keep the atmosphere light and pleasant. Leon, of course, understood the attempt.
The president wants something from me.
And it wasn't hard to guess what. Based on the man's actions so far, his desires weren't that grand.
Leon had read about the recent scandal, after all. This was probably about improving his public image and racking up political achievements.
But there was one thing President Ahn failed to consider.
Leon was the king of a nation.
He had ruled his kingdom for 70 years until the world was destroyed by demons, and he was a seasoned old warrior who had lived for 300 years.
Though he was a Lionheart King, a monarch who emphasized might, he was also a master of court politics, skilled in dealing with unruly empires and other races. To such a man, President Ahn was merely a young, naive pup.
"By the way, Your Majesty. How was the meal?"
"Not bad. It seems the culinary culture of this country is of a high standard."
"Haha, I'm glad it suited your tastes. Was there anything in particular you enjoyed?"
"Hm…"
Leon, after all, had once been an Earthling. A Korean, in fact—and he knew what kinds of things won people over here.
'That's why I made sure to leave one reporter behind.'
He had deliberately chosen a journalist from a media outlet favorable to the President's party. That reporter would surely guide the story in a positive light.
With a sly smile, Leon continued,
"This dish called bibimbap—I found it quite delightful."
"Oh, bibimbap, you say?"
The shutter clicked on the camera, its flash off.
"This bibimbap… what an intriguing dish. The colors of the various vegetables are harmonious and beautiful. Whoever thought of such a well-balanced meal must have been wise and in tune with the natural order."
'Yes! That's exactly the kind of thing I wanted to hear!'
Perfect. Not just a good response—it was a YouTube headline waiting to happen:
[Lionheart King from Another World Praises K-Bibimbap!]
[Japan Shocked, China Appalled, and America Jealous: What Is the K-Food the Isekai King Can't Stop Talking About?]
[The Dish That's Taking Over the World—And the King Who Fell in Love With It!]
Excellent. Not only was it national prestige in a bowl, it would indirectly bring attention and favor to the president himself. And Leon had said it without even being asked.
"It reminds me of the gods' pantheon and the Lionheart Kingdom," Leon added.
"Hm?"
"My kingdom values the harmonious coexistence of divinity and humanity. Just like this bibimbap—each element intertwined, making one another shine brighter."
"I… see?"
And with that, the President naturally had no choice but to ask about Leon's gods and his kingdom.
"So… what kind of nation was the Lionheart Kingdom?"
"A kingdom that prized honor, cherished its citizens, and revered the divine. That's why it saddens me…"
"What do you mean?"
"Your people. I've seen them, though briefly. So many suffer from illness, wasting away helplessly."
"Phew… That's due to my own shortcomings. I must do more for our people—"
"No, that's not the issue. The problem is that they 'get sick' at all."
"???"
The journalist's camera turned to Leon, waiting for his next words.
"If they ate the crops blessed by the goddess Demera, they'd never suffer illness in their entire lives. You call it 'cancer'? People die because they can't cure such things? Honestly, it was shocking."
What the—? A chill ran down President Ahn's spine. Is this guy doing a product plug?
But no, that couldn't be. He came from a medieval civilization. There's no way he'd understand modern marketing.
Leon continued praising Korean culture while subtly weaving in stories of the Pantheon and divine miracles.
The key? It wasn't just fluff—he had actual examples: blessed rice crops and the purified fields of Naju. And with the recent capture of demons, people were already buzzing about such things.
So naturally, the conversation between the president and Leon drifted toward the Pantheon.
"I enjoyed the meal. President Ahn, would you care for a walk and some conversation?"
"Y-yes, of course."
They rose and walked together along a path. Though the journalist followed, he stayed at a distance, only taking pictures—offering a degree of privacy.
'Now's the time I can finally hear what this man truly thinks.'
"By the way, President Ahn…"
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
"I've done my best to understand your political system and culture."
"That's great to hear. Many survivors don't even try to grasp modern civilization."
"Fools, the lot of them. I'm different. Still… there's something I just can't wrap my head around."
"And what might that be?"
President Ahn swallowed nervously. Something about this man's words made his hair stand on end.
"You call it 'democracy,' yes? I heard you were elected through a process involving the votes of your citizens. That 49% of the people supported you."
"Haha, I'm just grateful to the people."
"That's exactly the problem."
"…Pardon?"
Leon spoke with calm but regal disdain.
"I am a holy grail guardian, chosen by the goddess herself. An honorable knight. And yet… in your world, my vote is equal to that of some wretched peasant? Does that make any sense?"
"Well, that's how democracy works…"
"Democracy itself is a fundamentally flawed system," Leon declared.
President Ahn was rattled. Is this barbarian seriously—?!
"Peasants, at best, should labor and serve their knights and nobles. They're too easily tempted by evil, too greedy and incapable of true contentment."
He wasn't just rejecting democracy.
He was rejecting capitalism.
Leon laid out his critique of modern political systems as if they were nonsense.
"Let me offer you some advice, President. A truly happy nation is ruled by a divinely chosen king, governing with an iron fist. How can peasants—who know nothing of politics—be expected to choose their own ruler?"
Stunned, the President stammered:
"Y-You're denying democracy?"
Leon shook his head, amused.
"Foolish and naive though it is, I won't blindly reject a law that was formed through a nation's legitimate process."
Whew. President Ahn breathed a sigh of relief.
But then, another bombshell.
"Which is why… I'm considering running in an election myself."
"…Excuse me?!"
"Disgusting though it may be to beg for the votes of vermin, if I must follow your laws, so be it. Of course, once I become president, I'll dismantle this foolish system entirely."
Did he just say he's going to abolish democracy?! Ahn's heart rate skyrocketed.
"Your Majesty! A nation is its people! This democracy was built with their blood and sweat!"
Leon looked baffled. Then, with regal certainty, he declared:
"I am the nation. It can never be the other way around."
"...!!"
Ahn was floored.
How could someone be so different? So arrogant?
President Ahn didn't see himself as a saint. He knew he was moderately corrupt and often ignored the people.
But this was something else entirely.
'I might be a bastard, but I'm not as much of a bastard as this guy!'
The blood of his independence-fighter ancestors burned in his veins. A fire of democratic justice ignited in his chest.
His purpose for the rest of his term became crystal clear.
"Father… Grandfather… are you watching? I swear I'll stop this monstrous authoritarian from ever entering politics!"
President Ahn Dong-gil.
Within him, the sleeping fire of justice had been reignited.