The End of Democracy

<Lala>

Frankly, I was shocked. I never imagined the enemy would attack me so brazenly in broad daylight. I thought, since they’re a semi-governmental organization with deep ties to public offices, they’d be more careful—more discreet. I thought they were a monolith.

And yet here they are, clearly shaken and acting rashly, all because I received applause from my classmates.

It’s a perfect opportunity to expose the darkness behind Edge Holdings to the public, but at the same time, it seems political corruption has advanced far more than I had expected. Under normal circumstances, even if some farce threatened to unfold, there should be invisible powers at play to conceal it, to make it seem like nothing. But now, they seem too weakened to cover things up. That made me sad.

I had believed that the threefold ideology of democracy × liberalism × capitalism was an unshakable and eternal engine of renewal, always capable of purging corruption. But its brilliance didn’t guarantee its permanence.

Even in another world’s version of China, the glorious Tang Dynasty, which controlled the dreamlike Silk Road, didn’t last more than three centuries. Among all the dynasties, it wasn’t even exceptionally long-lived.

When an organization is functioning well, information flows up from the bottom with a high degree of purity, enabling sound decision-making by those in power. In such times, even if a leader is foolish, it’s rarely a serious problem.

But if a leader’s actions appear so irrational that even an average citizen—one who only consumes mass media’s simplified and processed news—can see no other explanation, then somewhere within the bureaucratic machinery, the information has already been deeply distorted and corrupted. When the actions of those in power seem unstable, it may be that the very structure below them is already nearing the end of its historical role.

If human history is truly doomed to repeat its mistakes, unable to learn from the past, then surely an era of upheaval lies ahead. Will I be able to survive through it? Will I be able to build a bridge to the next generation? First, I must survive the crisis before me.

“Lala! Hide!”

Forte’s voice rang out. I scrambled behind the podium. A searing beam nearly hit me, but I escaped just in time. The one who almost fired at me was a red-haired girl surrounded by a garnet-colored aura—Forte’s rival.

“Sharp! Snap out of it! Everyone’s been waiting for you!”

“Everyone? All I remember is being left out at this school.”

Forte tried to reach her, but it wasn’t working. I wanted to help too, but I didn’t know what exactly had shaped the darkness in Sharp’s heart, or how I could reach out to her. I didn’t have enough pieces for persuasion.

Maybe… she was brainwashed by nightmare magic? Back at the amusement park, when we were attacked—if harp music was what counteracted the free-jazz spell that day…

I pulled a harp from subspace and began to play.

At that, Groove let out a mocking laugh.

“So it was you at the amusement park! The one who broke the nightmare spell—Lala! At last, the mystery is solved! But too bad! The Garnet Prince won’t be undone by something like that! Do it, Largo!”

Largo? The original owner of Forlun’s body? So even someone like him fell under the control of Edge Shadow… This is worse than I thought.

Doon... Gwann... Kakka... Doon-gwaaan.

That sound… it’s a conga. The pulsing rhythm echoed through the air. A rolling rhythm. Wait—could it be?

“Lala! Run!”

A blade of wind curled through the air toward me.

Pling.

The piano rang out—countering the wind blade.

“Tenuto-kun!”

“Hide backstage—quick!”

I followed his words and faded from the stage.

If the enemy’s target is my harp performance, should I continue or stop?

Doing what the opponent dislikes is a basic tactic in board games and sports. But what about now? Should I act like I’m in a game, or lie low and slip from their focus?

Even as I hesitated, the two-on-two battle had already begun—and all I could do was watch.