How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony-Chapter 269: Kin Issei Superstar (2)

I immediately walked over to any Spanish soldier nearby. I grabbed his chin, lifted it, and quickly whispered something like "It’s not too late yet."

"Ugh... huhuhu..."

"W-we’ll lay down our weapons! We surrender, p-please have mercy...!"

Then the Spanish soldiers one by one threw down their weapons and raised their hands. Our forces cheered. Good. Now the situation is generally resolved...

"Long live the Nameless One!"

What?

"Nameless One!"

Suddenly, people, our forces, rush toward me, grab my body, and lift me up. I’m debating whether to show signs of confusion or not, but seeing the excited faces of these people, they seem determined not to listen to anything I say.

"Let’s show his resurrected body to all the enemies! Let’s show what a miracle is to those who haven’t yet thrown down their weapons!"

"Woooaah!"

You bastard, who are you? Who shouted such a thing...

"Woooaaaaah!"

No.

"Nemo! Nemo! Nemo! Nemo!"

I said no.

What are you doing? What are you doing in front of thousands of people... no, don’t, don’t do that...!

Aaaaaaaargh...!

==

"Aaaaaaaargh! How embarrassing!"

...

It was a dream.

Recalling the memory of that day.

"Ugh... huhuhu..."

...

Seriously, couldn’t someone have at least given me clothes?

Not a single person asked if I was cold.

Of course, I understand the symbolism of a naked body, but still, it’s a violation of human rights.

Looking around, fortunately, there was only a bed and furniture. My privacy was safely preserved.

The place where I’m changing into pajamas while recalling the terrible memories of the past is Chesapeake.

I’ll be staying here for a while since there’s expected to be a lot of work regarding Florida and other matters.

I sighed, put on my outer clothes, and tied my shoelaces. I grabbed my tablet and stepped outside into the autumn of 1612.

"Nameless One!"

"Nemo! Hello!"

If a 21st century Japanese person were to ask me what it feels like to live as an ’angel’... I’ve wondered how I should answer.

I’m talking about when I expected a status window to appear with phrases like "Mission Failure Condition: Death." When I thought I might return home soon.

Anyway, even though that was more than 20 years ago, my thoughts remain similar. The feeling of living as an angel hasn’t changed much from then to now.

"Hahaha, hello."

It feels like being a celebrity and politician combined.

In the sense that whether I’m having a bad day or just stubbed my little toe on a bookshelf, I have to smile regardless.

Don’t politicians also shake hands with anyone who approaches them? fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

"Haha, hahahaha... Everyone, please continue your efforts for this community today as well."

"Thank you! Have a good day too, Nemo!"

I did the same.

Of course, not everyone in this town is seeing me for the first time, and many are familiar enough with my existence not to bother me, but...

"A-angel! Please hold my hand!"

"Mine too! Please!"

"Could you name my daughter?"

"Nameless One! There’s a passage in the Bible I don’t understand..."

"Nameless One! Could you join our prayer meeting?!"

"Nameless One!"

...

...

The problem is that at least thousands of immigrants arrive each year.

In other words, I have to live with thousands of people who believe I’m an angel (not an exaggeration). Their ’passion’ is incomparable to even the most devoted fans of celebrities.

This is the 17th century, an era dominated by religion.

They see me as a real angel. And a real angel, as a messenger of God, must be superior to humans, moral, and generally excellent.

While fans who follow 21st century celebrities might jokingly say things like "XX doesn’t even go to the bathroom! They only drink dew!", these people would debate for three days and nights over whether to truly believe such things.

That’s right.

I have to stand before them.

I have to show a path that leaves no room for doubt.

Before them, I have to act as the perfect angel they envision in their minds.

"Nemo, please join our prayer meeting..."

"I would prefer not to."

"...Pardon?"

"If I join directly, wouldn’t everyone just stare at my hands and mouth instead of reading the scriptures and refining their thoughts?"

"..."

"That is not what I desire. You should worship the Lord in your heart, not follow someone else’s words and writings."

"...Ah!"

So I need to occasionally drop profound statements like these.

"Ah, my knee is scraped..."

"Oh, are you alright? Let me apply some medicine."

"A-angel...!"

And I also need to periodically perform actions that could feature in heartwarming stories or propaganda.

Sigh... It’s incredibly busy. I wonder what fun politicians find in their previous lives, given how hard it is to maintain public opinion.

Anyway, after breaking through the crowd and entering the Council of Six building, it all starts again.

"Nemo, you’re here!"

"Eleanor? Sorry I’m a bit late. Vicente? How far has the meeting progressed?"

"Haha, we’ve just started, so don’t worry."

A place with faces that have seen me for 20 years. A place with people who have become as familiar with me as possible.

So while I don’t need the showmanship from earlier, other efforts are still necessary.

"So, you’re saying we need to greatly increase the navy? They say Spanish ships are threatening our vessels now!"

"What’s urgent now is developing Florida. Investing resources in the Knight Brigade is the wise choice."

"Let’s take a vote. Those in favor of strengthening naval power, raise your hands!"

"...Three people. Another 3 to 3 tie."

Six people.

Of all numbers, an even one.

Even if they handle everything else themselves, when votes split evenly like now, things become awkwardly problematic. At such times, who do people rely on?

"Then let’s ask Nemo. Nemo, which side do you think is reasonable?"

"..."

"..."

Me, of course.

There’s a reason why I often attend a government created to avoid work. Since I serve as a kind of chairperson and 7th member in the Council of Six, it’s difficult to stay away.

Normally, I could just maintain posture throughout the meeting, nod appropriately with a "you’re right, and you’re also right" expression, and that would be it. But things are different when there’s a lot of work and opinions frequently diverge.

"...Nemo?"

Why do important issues always roll to me?

"Yes."

"Between strengthening the navy and expanding the Knight Brigade, which do you see as more urgent?"

I pause... and consider.

What I worry about at times like this isn’t anything else. It would be good if only important decision-making rights rolled to me. This community wouldn’t stray too far from the direction I envision.

But what if something goes wrong?

I’m not superhuman, and I can make mistakes too, right? What if something seriously goes wrong after following my words? Then trust in me would collapse.

So the method I chose was ’this’:

"...Both seem important."

The Toyotomi Hideyoshi strategy.

"B-but, we have to choose one of the two. Both need iron and wood..."

"Then, Vicente? Let me ask again."

"..."

"What seems more urgent?"

"..."

"..."

"...The Knight Brigade, I suppose."

Making the other person nervous by speaking meaningfully.

And importantly, I shouldn’t nod carelessly here. I merely smiled faintly, interlaced my fingers, and said to Vicente:

"I know your sailors have worked hard. Let’s enhance their support."

"Nemo...!"

"But right now, we’re deciding the community’s affairs, so let’s only think about what would be more beneficial for the community’s prosperity."

"Ah, I understand!"

And finally:

"Vicente, what would you choose?"

"...I’ll change my opinion to the Knight Brigade!"

There.

I didn’t say anything. It was Vicente’s decision.

I just listened to Vicente’s complaints.

I hold no responsibility. Even if our naval power gets punctured, it’s not my responsibility.

...

...

Like this.

I feel a bit of self-loathing and stress.

I wonder if I really need to go this far.

But well, what can I do?

For now, if I want to survive, I need to minimize strongly pushing or opposing things unless they’re important.

...

...

...

It’s really tiring.

That day, I went back and played games all night.

This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦