The Villainess is the Villainess [LitRPG]

Book 2: Chapter 18 - Mother of the Nation [Part 2]

"Penalizing women is not the answer," Mirae answered, voice pitched low with sympathy, "but we need more than lip service. If I come to power, I plan to incentivize life and support those who are wavering with the most difficult of decisions. The Myeong Group stands ready to take these unwanted children and shape them into the future of our nation."

Mr. Baek let out a derisive snort. "So, you'd be what—'Mother of the Nation'?"

Haeun Cha attempted a gentle laugh. "That's quite a title to take on, Ms. Myeong."

Mirae's lips curved in a supremely confident smile. "If that's what it takes to protect our future, then yes. We face immense challenges as a country, and we cannot afford to lose any potential gifts these children might bring. Our world is in crisis; our nation needs strong, willing arms to guide it. If I personally have to take care of all of the unwanted, I will."

And in that moment, with the cameras trained on her and millions of viewers watching, Myeong Mirae stood like a conquering heroine—utterly commanding, and utterly terrifying to those who dared oppose her. Even though it was a debate meant to clarify policy, she had transformed it into a stage for personal victory, leaving Baek struggling to catch up and the moderator blinking in the harsh studio lights.

***

Baek had suffered a brutal drubbing at Mirae's hands for the remainder of the debate. She had an agent embedded deep within his campaign staff, gleefully feeding her every bit of juicy intel. Time and again, Baek attempted to expose her, like when he dredged up a minor incident about her past self allegedly assaulting a police officer with a stack of banknotes. The entire thing had been recorded on the patrol car's dashcam, but Mirae neutralized him with chilling ease: she produced a video of that very officer claiming he was one of her fans and had requested Mirae to hit him, calling it "one of his lifelong dreams." It was bizarre, but the public found it oddly amusing—and she ended up more popular than ever.

Worse still for Baek, he tried leveraging her youth against her, insinuating that someone so young was unfit to lead. Mirae, in turn, showed everyone watching scandalous photos of the married man and father of three cozying up to far younger women in questionable circumstances. The resulting outrage from conservative elements in Korean society effectively sealed Baek's fate. She could have deployed this tactic in the press beforehand, but the live television ambush was far more dramatic—and Baek never recovered.

Despite this triumphant performance, Mirae couldn't help acknowledging that her rise to power had been neither entirely smooth nor truly difficult. The real challenge had come from trying to integrate her "other self's" memories. There had been moments of confusion, like in her verbal skirmish with Baek, when the old Seraphina's recollections nearly collided with the current Mirae's. From time to time, she wondered how her other self was faring now. Being Seraphina de Sariens is a raw deal, she thought with a wry grin.

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Meanwhile, the staff around her buzzed with post-debate cleanup. A mousy woman, an aide whose name Mirae could never seem to recall, appeared at her side, wringing her hands. "Madam, there are concerns about your use of the word 'Cataclysm'…"

Mirae rolled her eyes, radiating impatience. "Issue a statement that I was referring to World War II or the Japanese occupation… something like that," she snapped. "Honestly, haven't I given you enough gold to manage these trifling matters?" The aide bowed quickly and scurried off, wearing the same baffled expression Mirae's staff often sported when dealing with her imperious commands.

If only her last secretary, Hana, hadn't departed this world in such a dramatic, selfish fashion. Mirae missed the efficiency of that woman—this new crop of lackeys and minions simply weren't on the same level.

Just then, a young man equipped with a headset rushed up. "Ms. Myeong," he said breathlessly, "our latest polls show an approval rating at nearly seventy-three percent!"

The group around her burst into a round of applause, cheering her meteoric popularity. Yet, Mirae merely shrugged.

Mirae didn't quite know what he was so excited about. The results spoke for themselves; it meant that over a quarter of the country did not approve of her. A truly sobering and disappointing thought. How misguided could these people be? And, how dare they stand with her enemies? This whole democracy nonsense was starting to wear on her nerves.

When she finally ruled this little nation, she would make sure to find all of those little dissidents and make examples of them. Mirae was already planning to create work camps, maybe she would take a leaf from a close neighbor's example and call them "re-education facilities."

But before all of that, she had to unify the nation. The country remained divided, a condition she found intolerable. Her other self had been too complacent, too busy swimming in money and influence to bother unifying the peninsula. This Mirae had little interest in living a similar lifestyle.

With the majority of the male population capable of using the weapons of war of this world, it should be a trivial feat to unify the country, she realized starkly. All it required was the will to make it so.

It was too easy to fall into such a trap in this country, where the average citizen had more wealth at his fingertips than the kings of old. The people were surrounded by miracles, and they never, ever took a moment to acknowledge it.

"Clear the room," she commanded abruptly, and her staff filed out with practiced obedience. Alone at last, she sank onto a cushioned seat, rummaging through her diamond-encrusted, white elephant leather handbag to retrieve a small mirror. Irony never ceased to amuse her: the reflection staring back was Eloise's face—a poor, beautiful girl she had treated so terribly. A flicker of guilt crossed her doll-like features. Was the other Seraphina treating Eloise better than she had?

And now she could sing—oh, how she could sing. She was certain her voice could coax birds down from the highest branches. It was the product of a lifetime of practice, a skill honed to a razor's edge. For her, it had become one of the greatest joys of this new life.

Fate was ever the master of irony.

But maudlin thoughts and regrets were for another time. She tapped a manicured nail against the mirror, lips curving into a satisfied, dangerous smile. A mere five-year term would never be enough. She needed something more permanent, something more befitting her ambitions. Yes… "President for life" had such a wonderful ring to it.