God-Tier Enhancement: My Upgrades Never Fail-Chapter 228: Episode _Don’t Talk to Me About Suckers (8)
13.
There wasn’t much prepared for the fan meeting. The venue for the VVIP members was a splendid, spacious hall with elegant tables and delicious food, but considering the money these people usually spent, it was hardly special treatment. In fact, they could easily go to places far more extravagant.
So, was there better service? Not that either.
The thick script one might expect was replaced by a single thin sheet of paper in Han Simin’s hand. Instead of a neat suit, he wore dirt-stained clothes, looking as if he had just rolled out of a ditch.
Of course, none of the ten VVIP members took issue with this, despite the shoddy treatment. It wasn’t because they knew that none of the clothes Simin wore were less than +15 and that he had simply turned off the effects. It was because they had no interest in Han Simin whatsoever.
Later, perhaps. When the time came to use their enhancement tickets, they might pay him some attention. But not now. For the moment, Simin was merely a means to an end. With every second spent wanting to see the Saintess, they all knew better than anyone that wasting time and energy on trivial matters was a loss for them.
Most importantly, Simin’s personality had become widely known through his aide. The general mood was: don’t provoke him.
Into this neat atmosphere, Squeaker made her entrance.
“Whoa!”
“Wow...”
Everyone had heard the rumors and seen the circulating photos. The three players among the ten had seen close-up pictures almost daily through the fan club. Even so, a collective gasp of admiration escaped their lips. They couldn’t help it. She was that stunning. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦
To these ten people, Squeaker was, at the very least, the Saintess. Even the three players, who knew she was a fake Saintess brought in by Simin, saw her as a Saintess who performed her role to perfection. Naturally, the image in their minds solidified around that concept: pure, delicate, innocent.
Indeed, the Saintess had projected such an image across the continent. In the occasional promotional images, she exuded an aura of purity so profound that she could have been the very definition of those words. The secret to her popularity, however, was the tantalizing figure hinted at beneath her holy robes—unseen, yet stimulating the imagination.
But to those who held only that image, Squeaker presented a complete reversal. Or rather, it was Han Simin’s production.
A passionate red dress that matched her eyes. Her long, slender legs were hidden by the voluminous red fabric, but the tight silhouette tracing her hips made onlookers swallow hard. And then there was the shockingly revealing neckline—something they had never seen on the Saintess before.
“Hah!”
“Ahem.”
“Th-that...”
The players were used to it. You could see more revealing outfits just by turning on the TV. This was just a plunging neckline. But it was so breathtaking that even they had to hold their breath to stifle a gasp. So how would the NPCs, who had rarely seen such exposure in their lives, react?
The red dress traced her form upward, revealing her pristine white skin from the collarbone. The deep hollow of her clavicle, the beautiful curve of her neck... Before their eyes even reached her face, which was the main event, everyone was already satisfied. The money spent on the VVIP membership was worth it.
Seeing their expressions, Simin nodded. ’Just as I thought.’
’The preparation paid off.’ The only preparation had been telling her to get a dress made, but he was pleased with the thought that he could safely make money until at least the next half-year. He then handed the single sheet of paper to Squeaker.
“Hehe. Dad.”
“Yeah. Do well.”
Even the sight of Squeaker lightly hugging him and acting cute was a source of endless envy for the onlookers. The gesture revealed her deeply scooped back, and now, sparks were flying. She was the very embodiment of beauty. For those faced with the unbelievable reality that photos did her no justice, how could they remain calm?
All eyes focused on her cherry-like lips. She slowly lifted the paper and began to read. Her voice, too, was a source of anticipation. ’Surely, with a body and face that perfect, her voice can’t be beautiful too, right? Yes, there has to be at least one flaw. Perfection is nice, but it makes her too hard to approach.’
Amidst the myriad of audacious thoughts swirling in the men’s minds, her voice rang out.
“Hello, all you pushovers. It’s a good... Dad?”
“Hey, punk. You read the wrong part. I told you to read the back.”
“Oh! Okay. Sorry.”
She was speechless.
A broadcast accident. The atmosphere instantly plummeted. A deep silence fell. The VVIP members’ faces were grim. To be called a pushover so directly at a gathering of pushovers! It was a blow to their pride.
“She’s beautiful.”
’Even her voice.’
But alas, the pushovers didn’t get angry at her remark. They couldn’t. To get angry, you have to feel anger, but how could one be angry at a beauty whose face alone brought a smile to your lips?
Moreover, her lilting voice still tickled their ears, making them smile despite themselves. It was the kind of voice that made you think you could be a pushover forever if she would just keep whispering in your ear.
So, they all remained silent, setting aside the trivial disappointment that her voice, too, was heavenly. They wanted to hear even one more word. They didn’t want to interrupt.
“VVIP members of the Rich Territory, good afternoon. Thank you so much for coming to the fan meeting. We will now begin in earnest. The event will consist of a simple meal, and as I must return to the Grand Temple shortly, we will select one person by lottery for a brief tea time with me.”
They fell silent.
And so, the content of the fan meeting was revealed. Everyone began to size each other up. They had expected something like this, but not for it to be so blatant. It wasn’t a complaint, but rather the start of a calculation.
One person. How would they be chosen? Surely, if he had any sense, he wouldn’t openly ask for money. There must be some kind of fair contest.
“The selection method is simple. On behalf of the Grand Temple, I will take the time to express my gratitude to the one person who participates most passionately in our fundraising efforts to help those who have lost their families and homes to the black magic mages across the continent.”
They were speechless.
Of course. Han Simin was as shameless and brazen as ever.
*
A petition arrived for the Emperor. Normally, he wouldn’t have even read it. Hundreds of them came in from all over the continent every day. In reality, very few ever reached him, and he rarely read even those.
But today was different.
The Emperor was silent.
Seeing the sender’s name on the petition, he couldn’t simply ignore it.
“Is it really from that bastard?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Hah.”
That bastard he had managed to forget for a while. The one who had not only stolen his daughter and his territory but also came by to rub salt in the wound whenever he was bored, taking things from the treasury as if they were his own. It had been so peaceful these past few months while he was quiet. When he was quiet, the black magic mages were quiet too, as if on cue.
Perhaps because life had been too comfortable, a headache was starting to creep in. He didn’t even want to open it and see what it was about. Was it just his imagination, or did he already have a feeling what it said?
“Father, what did my husband send?”
The Emperor remained silent.
And to top it off, the Princess was here. She grew more beautiful by the day, her looks now seeming ready for adulthood. The thought that such a man had snatched away such a daughter made his head throb again.
Still, he opened it. He had to see. It wasn’t as if that bastard ever asked for permission before doing anything. He at least needed to confirm what kind of trouble he was planning to stir up by sending a petition like this.
The Emperor read on in silence.
The content was nothing special. But as he read, the Emperor’s expression grew more and more contorted.
“The people of the continent are suffering and groaning under the oppression of the black magic mages. The Rich Territory wishes to take the lead in starting relief efforts with the support of the nobility. However, it is too great a burden to bear alone, so we ask the Empire to set an example. I will join in that effort.”
That was the gist of it. In truth, it wasn’t something to get worked up about. It was all true, and the intention itself seemed pure and good. With the black magic mages having gone into hiding, it was the perfect time to clean up and prepare for the future. The Emperor himself was already working on it, though he hadn’t created a specific relief organization.
If it hadn’t been proposed by Han Simin, he would have immediately nodded and ordered it to be carried out.
“What is he plotting?”
Naturally, this was his first thought. Why would a man who lived only for his own benefit do something like this?
He certainly didn’t care about other people. To the Emperor, that was as likely as demons crossing over to the continent because they were worried about human lives. In a word, bullshit.
He racked his brain, trying to figure out the ulterior motive. The first thing that came to mind was, of course, exploitation. A classic pattern of the nobility: using this as an excuse to collect taxes. But he couldn’t be sure, as the petition clearly stated it would target the nobles. In that case, it didn’t really matter. As long as it wasn’t against the powerless common folk, he encouraged the plundering of other nobles by the logic of power.
So why go through the trouble of sending such a superficial petition?
“Don’t tell me...”
A scam? To extort money from the nobles with honeyed words? Were there really nobles who would fall for that? It was a laughable idea, but it was the most plausible conclusion.
“Father, I think that’s a wonderful idea. I’d like to take charge of it.”
“...Princess, that’s...”
“Please? Pleease?”
“...Alright.”
And the Princess was right there beside him. She, too, had inherited his tyrant’s blood, but when it came to matters concerning Han Simin, she could become an angel. How could a father stop his daughter when she was so eager to do good?
For whatever reason, he nodded. After thinking it through, he concluded that there was no ultimate loss for him. At most, a few foolish nobles would donate to this relief effort. Since it was being conducted in the Emperor’s name, it would have credibility. Simin’s plan was probably to skim a portion of the donations.
Normally, for the crime of using the Emperor’s name, he could have had three generations of Simin’s family annihilated without it being strange. But the shockingly audacious acts Simin had shown so far had raised the Emperor’s standards far too high.
’Fine. Skim away. Just don’t cause any trouble. If you have a conscience, you won’t take it all, right?’
That’s what the Emperor thought. It was his own, accurate judgment based on his knowledge of Simin.
But there was one variable missing from his calculation. He hadn’t factored in the Princess, who, with hearts in her eyes, was thinking only of how to help Han Simin.
And so, a charitable organization was established in the Emperor’s name. The first of its kind on the continent.
*
