The World Is Mine For The Taking

"How are we going to do that?" Titania asked, her voice low and uncertain, as if she herself feared the weight of the answer.

That was the core of everything.

The one question that no one could really answer with confidence.

How the hell were we supposed to fight fire with fire in a world where the flames were being fed by whispers, fear, and rage?

This wasn't just about strategy.

It was about outplaying an enemy that had mastered shadows and turned the truth into a weapon.

"Well, for one… we need something bigger. A scandal, something massive," I began, my tone firm and deliberate, letting each word drop like a stone into still water. "Something so outrageous that every single person—whether they were furious at the king, or just passive onlookers—would stop whatever they're doing and look this way instead. We need something that overshadows the village attacks completely. A reset of public focus."

"And what exactly would that be?" Myrcella asked, her voice lined with both skepticism and curiosity, eyes narrowing as she leaned slightly forward.

I let a small, knowing smile curve on my lips. "Let's just say… it involves the Sword Saint."

That hit like thunder in a dead forest.

A cold silence followed. No gasps. No immediate questions.

Just the weight of those two words, thick in the air.

I watched as Myrcella and the others exchanged glances, their expressions twitching with the telltale signs of suppressed thoughts—eyebrows slightly raised and mouths barely parted. They were asking themselves the same silent question: What does he mean? What the hell does the Sword Saint have to do with this?

But they wouldn't find the answer among themselves.

Only I knew the truth.

Because dragging the Sword Saint into this wasn't just about spectacle—it was a calculated risk. This scandal wouldn't be a mere ripple. It would be a tidal wave. One that wouldn't just shake the foundation of Milham, but would tear through the fragile balance of power between the kingdom and the Sword Saint's influence.

"But this plan hinges on one thing," I said, cutting through the thick silence. "The king has to make a statement. Publicly. Officially. If we want this to work—even temporarily—his voice is the spark that lights the whole thing."

I paused to let that sink in, then continued with a grim tone.

"If we pull this off, all the haters flooding the net with anti-king propaganda will be caught off guard. Their attention will be forcefully diverted to the bomb we're about to drop. But that doesn't mean we're safe. The kingdom's vulnerability still exists. The threat of invasion still lingers. Which is why this isn't the endgame—it's just a step. I have something else prepared, something to cover the cracks while we draw the enemy's eyes away."

I leaned in, my voice low but steady.

"I just need to adjust a few things, tweak the timing and the message. And then… we'll have the perfect misdirection. The kind of redirection that history books will mention in hushed paragraphs."

"You really do sound like you've got a solid plan," Myrcella said with a soft, impressed smile, her tone shifting from concern to reluctant admiration.

"I told you—Leon knows what he's doing," Titania chimed in, her voice lighter, almost proud.

The enemy might have hijacked the internet—a tool I personally introduced to this world to revolutionize it. But I was still the master of it. They could play their little games. But in the end, no one could manipulate digital flow like I could. They were playing on a field I built. And I never forgot how to win on it.

Without wasting time, I reached for my smartphone and called Johanne.

The plan had to begin now.

The deadcat in this scenario? Her.

More specifically, her identity. The fact that her gender had been forcibly altered before she could even speak her own name.

The scandal we were about to unleash, centered around the Sword Saint, would be more than enough to set the media ablaze. It would pull attention away from the deeper truths, giving us breathing room to protect the kingdom's image and reinforce the illusion that Milham was still one of the dominant powers in the world.

"You wanted something from me, Leon?" she asked the moment she stepped in, her expression unreadable, but her voice carrying an edge of curiosity.

"Have you talked to your father yet… about your real gender?" I asked, locking eyes with her.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. Then she shook her head.

"No," she admitted quietly. "I honestly don't know what to say to him. Of course I want to understand what went through his mind… but I can't just throw it in his face without knowing how to process it myself. What if… what if he really was disappointed that I was born a girl? Did he see me as so worthless that he chose to change me into a boy just to make it easier on himself?"

"So it's true…? You really are a girl, Johanne?" Myrcella asked, her voice cracking slightly under the weight of disbelief.

Her eyes were wide—too wide, in fact, like two saucers. The kind of wide that only came when a truth shattered the foundation of everything someone thought they knew.

And considering how close she and Johanne had been since they were children, her shock was understandable.

Not once in all those years did she notice Johanne was a woman.

"It is true," Johanne said softly, but firmly, a sad smile tugging at her lips. "I'm sorry for keeping it from you all this time. I never meant to lie… I just… couldn't."

"No… it's okay," Myrcella said. "This isn't something you could just say to anyone on a whim. I get that. But… how are you feeling about all of this?"

Johanne let out a long breath before answering.

"I feel… conflicted. Deeply. I still don't know what to do with all these emotions. But at the same time, if my story can help with this deadcatting strategy… then maybe I can find meaning in it. Maybe it'll serve a purpose greater than just my own identity crisis."

"You don't have to go through with this if you're not ready," I said, my tone softer, my gaze fixed on hers.

But Johanne simply smiled at me.

"Don't worry. I think… this is the right thing to do. For the people. I don't want to watch our kingdom collapse from within because of someone's manipulative scheme. If this helps shift the chaos away—even for a moment—then I'm in. If it prevents war, or riots, or the collapse of everything we've fought for, then it's worth it."

"That's the plan," I replied, nodding. "But we can't just rely on this scandal alone. We need to manage the public perception of Milham itself. Right now, people think our kingdom is bleeding, weak, and ripe for conquest. That's why I've written two articles. One exposing your father's scandal. The other? A show of strength. Something to tell the world that Milham is still in control. Still playing the long game."

I turned the laptop around and showed them the screen, the faint glow casting light on their curious faces.

This laptop—like many other technological wonders such as refrigerators, televisions, and other modern tools—had been introduced to this world long ago by the people of Leonamon. Though this world thrived on mana, these tools had quietly woven themselves into daily life, becoming indispensable instruments in both strategy and survival.

And right now, it was our greatest weapon.

Displayed on the screen were two articles I had written myself.

The first headline read:

"The Truth About the Sword Saint's Heir."

Followed closely by the second:

"The Princess of Milham Succeeds in Allowing All Academy Students to Graduate as Magic Knights."

The room fell silent for a moment.

"Wait, Leon…" Myrcella's voice broke the hush, her eyes flickering between me and the screen with concern. "I haven't succeeded in that part yet."

I looked at her, a small, confident smirk forming on my lips.

"Well, no one needs to know that, do they?" I said casually, leaning forward as I rested my elbows on my knees. "If people stumble across this online, it's going to blow up like wildfire. These articles are going live on one of the most visited article sites in the world. It's guaranteed to gain attention, stir people's emotions, and shift the focus completely."

Her eyes stayed on mine, reading me, trying to grasp the full extent of my plan.

"And even if it's not completely true right now, it doesn't really matter. No one can instantly verify the validity anyway. The only ones who'll get questioned will be the academy's administrators. Sure, they'll try to deny everything, maybe release a statement or two. But that won't stop the story from spreading like an uncontrollable blaze. People believe what they want to believe. Like they say—where there's smoke, there's fire."

I paused for a beat before adding, "Besides, even if it's not true at this very moment… you're going to make it true eventually, aren't you? We're just speeding things up a little. Preempting the future."

Myrcella stared at the screen again, then back at me. A slow, sincere smile spread across her lips, her expression softening.

"You really do think far ahead of any of us, Leon," she said, voice warm with admiration. "That's what I love about you."

She leaned in, the world around us fading into quiet, and pressed her lips against mine.