Ch.102Ambassador (2)

“But… I never wanted something like this.”

Even as I spoke those words, they felt foreign on my lips.

The term ‘ambassador’ itself was too distant for me.

I quietly looked into her eyes.

That proposal was literally trying to pull me onto a ‘shining stage,’ and I had neither the preparation nor the desire to stand in such a position.

No, honestly speaking, that stage somehow disgusted me.

The feeling of standing before people, packaged as an image someone else created rather than as the person I am.

And even this conversation, this entire flow, felt like part of a scenario she had calculated from the beginning.

However.

“That’s precisely why you’re more suitable,” said Council Member Avanka, tilting her head slowly as she looked at me.

As if confirming the moment when a predetermined piece fits perfectly into a puzzle.

“Real heroes exist not because they wanted to be, but because they had to stand in that place. Janghoon, you may not realize it yet, but many people already see you that way.”

Her tone was gentle, but the meaning it contained was clear.

You’ve already stepped onto the stage.

So there’s no choice to step down.

I silently looked at her.

It was a perfect statement as a politician.

A pleasing justification, a kind exterior, and cold rationality.

“Kang Janghoon. I have been observing humans for a long time. Much longer than you might think.”

She smiled gently.

That smile was kind, but beneath it lay layers of old fatigue and resignation.

The serene gaze of someone who had transcended something.

“Humans are weak. Powerless, selfish beings swayed by emotions. But at the same time… they are incredibly persistent and incredibly beautiful.”

She briefly averted her gaze and looked somewhere outside the window.

Beyond the glass, the city lights flickered like the heartbeat of the human race.

“Beings who can cry for others even as they die. The will to reach out a hand even knowing defeat. That’s what humans are.”

She slowly swirled her wine glass.

The red liquid flowed in a quiet whirlpool inside the glass, creating an illusion that the human species was desperately holding on within it.

“That’s why I… as a fellow human, did not destroy them.”

She drew in a very short breath.

Those words continued quietly, as if trying to convince herself.

“Within that weakness lay possibilities unique to ‘us humans.’ That’s why I decided to watch over them.”

After finishing those words, she paused for a beat. That pause pressed even more heavily on my chest.

“But possibility is always uncertain. If you don’t choose, if you don’t decide, it simply disappears.”

Her fingertip quietly tapped the table. There was no rhythm, but there was certainty.

“That’s why I didn’t give up on them.”

Saying that, she put down her wine glass.

The red liquid inside rippled gently, and that subtle tremor strangely seemed to pierce through me.

“Even knowing they would collapse, despair, and repeatedly make mistakes… I still wanted to believe. That we—that human beings—could improve, even if just a little.”

She quietly drew in a breath.

That gap before adding more words, as if organizing her thoughts, was unexpectedly serious.

“Possibility is always uncertain. Believing in it might be foolish. But without it, humanity wouldn’t have survived until now.”

Her fingertip quietly tapped on the table.

Tap, tap. That rhythmless sound had a strange resonance.

“That’s why I didn’t create a structure where someone looks down from above. A world where the strong lead the weak… ultimately only breeds greater violence.”

The council, this society, should be moved by people who think and judge for themselves.

Isn’t that what a truly ‘human world’ is?

Council Member Avanka’s gaze quietly returned to me.

That look was neither cold nor hot, but strangely persuasive.

“However, that flow often came to a halt. People were still trapped in frameworks of the past, especially men…”

She paused briefly, then quietly smiled again.

“They were taught to be weak, forced to act that way… and ultimately lived without being allowed emotions or strength. I consider that a shackle.”

She paused for a moment. She closed her eyes and slowly inhaled.

“And then, someone appeared who broke those shackles themselves. That’s you, Kang Janghoon.”

For a moment, I felt like my breath stopped.

Even her tone when calling my name was so calm it wasn’t burdensome, yet strangely, my chest tightened.

“You knew how to be weak, knew how to hesitate, and weren’t ashamed of yourself for it.”

She tilted her head slightly and looked straight into my eyes.

That gaze was neither judgment nor expectation.

“Do you know how remarkable that is?”

I was listening to her words, barely able to breathe properly.

It felt like something had pierced me sharply, but I couldn’t tell exactly where it hurt.

“I see that as an opportunity. A symbol that people desperately need. A symbol that someone who was most ordinary can become stronger than anyone.”

She quietly bowed her head.

Even these words seemed genuinely earnest rather than political.

“You need to move forward. For those who still wander, not knowing their place, for those who still hide themselves. You can show them what it truly means to be human. And such people are rare.”

After Council Member Avanka finished speaking, I couldn’t say anything for a while.

Before I could even contemplate the meaning, her words themselves pressed somewhere in my chest.

“…I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

It was a difficult statement that broke the silence.

I hoped it wouldn’t sound like an excuse, but my voice was smaller than I thought.

Council Member Avanka looked at me for a moment, then gently raised the corners of her lips.

“Then, shall we wait until you’re ready?”

A brief smile. A brief silence.

“Or will you become the person the world needs, even without being ready?”

She leaned forward slowly as she continued.

“Kang Janghoon, I believe in humans. Because of that belief, I entered politics, and I still maintain that belief.”

Her voice was soft, but it resonated even more clearly.

“Humans dominated by monsters will perish. But if humans choose for themselves and move forward, that becomes ‘progress.’ I am merely a guide on that path.”

Having finished speaking, Council Member Avanka quietly looked at me.

She was sincere now.

Or at least, she was speaking to appear that way.

I took a moment to catch my breath. Half of what she said was dangerous, and half was strangely attractive.

I don’t know how much of her words were truth and how much was performance.

But to see her more clearly in this moment, I needed to step into that performance.

“…Alright. I’ll do it.”

When I answered like that, Council Member Avanka smiled with satisfaction.

I didn’t smile. This was neither cooperation nor submission.

It was a choice to watch her from the closest position on the stage she had created.

***

The next day, in the central district of Hero City.

Elaborate decorations and flags hung throughout the downtown area, and broadcasting cameras were being set up.

The official filming hadn’t started yet, and staff members were busily checking equipment.

I had arrived a little earlier than the appointed time.

The fact that cameras weren’t rolling yet strangely added to my tension.

‘This area… must have been arranged by Council Member Avanka’s side.’

The location, stage, and background were all refined.

It was literally ‘a stage deliberately prepared by someone.’

The fact that I was within the flow she designed made the back of my neck feel chilly even before stepping onto the stage.

“Please wait a moment. We’ll start the rehearsal soon.”

A staff member approached, greeted me respectfully, and spoke.

I nodded and sat down on a nearby chair.

And as I looked around to gauge the atmosphere, she appeared.

There was no spotlight, no entrance music.

But strangely, my entire field of vision focused on that one person.

Golden twin-tails, lightly attached ribbon decorations, a white dress with noticeably bare shoulders.

It wasn’t stage attire, but she was captivating enough that it didn’t matter.

Carmilla.

She looked completely different from when I saw her at the training ground the other day.

The rough and free look in her eyes was, at this moment, completely controlled—that of a professional.

I froze as I looked at her,

and she too stopped when she saw me.

A few seconds of silence.

Then words burst out almost simultaneously.

“Janghoon… why are you here?!”

“That’s what I should be asking?!”

Our simultaneous exclamations overlapped in mid-air.

She quickly turned her head away, but her eyes were slightly excited.

My heart unconsciously beat two or three beats faster.

‘This… is no coincidence.’

Surely someone had included even this meeting in their plan.