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Support Us on Patreon“Ah… Ah…”
My mother, who had been laughing while holding her stomach, wiped away her tears and barely managed to stop.
“Hehe…”
She hadn’t stopped yet.
It seemed my mother found my absurd conclusion so cute that she playfully rubbed my cheeks like a toy.
“How did Dad do that?”
“Hmm… How should I explain this…”
My father scratched his chin but then stopped my mother from answering.
Finally, my mother let go of my cheeks.
“Just explain that in a blessed sanctuary, people can revive as much as they want. Allen is old enough to understand that much.”
“I know that. Our son is so smart. The problem is, if we explain it like that, he might get curious and try something in the sanctuary.”
“Ah. That’s true.”
My mother also looked troubled.
From my parents’ conversation, I deduced that this sanctuary was a place where people could revive even after death, and it was probably used to film such realistic action scenes. However, since I was still a child, they seemed hesitant to explain it to me, fearing that something serious might happen if I went there.
Fortunately, I, Allen Price, being a dutiful son from the Land of Eastern Manners, had no intention of worrying my parents.
“Dad! Then can I do that too?”
“You should say ‘yes’ instead.”
“Yes?”
“When you grow up, you’ll be able to do it too, Allen.”
“Really?”
“Really. But you need to eat a lot, sleep a lot, and listen to your mom so you can grow up quickly. Now, let’s go to bed.”
“Okay~”
My parents smoothly changed the topic to avoid explaining further. I, too, went along with it and accepted it for now.
With a concrete plan to become an actor forming in my heart, I closed my eyes to the sound of my mother’s lullaby.
From then on, it was days of training.
Whether I became an actor or a director, I knew I had to start doing whatever I could now, rather than just eating and lounging around. Only then could I take a step closer to my dream.
Of course, as is the case in any world, my parents wanted me to study, but…
“I apologize, Tower Master. Your second son… well, his studies…”
“No need to beat around the bush. I know it well.”
Looking at how my older brother was smart enough to become the direct disciple of the Destruction School’s Tower Master before even reaching adulthood, it seemed my genes took more after my father’s side.
My mother, as a former Tower Master, was a rational person.
The moment she was convinced that studying wasn’t my path, she quickly introduced me to my father’s acquaintances.
My father’s colleagues were busy praising me, saying I had a good sense for combat.
“Allen is a genius! He instinctively applies joint locks without even being taught!”
Well, I had spent countless days in my past life rolling around in the mud with comrades, so it was ingrained in my body.
I hadn’t formally learned any martial arts like wrestling, but after constantly being in battlefields where close combat was a matter of life and death, I became used to it.
Sometimes, I would perform a German suplex on a knight as a show of strength, and my father would clap in satisfaction.
Of course, given my age, there was no way I didn’t feel good about receiving such praise…
“Hehe! Mom, I won again today!”
Seeing my parents so delighted made me excited as well, and I couldn’t help but get caught up in the thrill.
With their praise fueling my enthusiasm, I threw myself into my training even more vigorously.
The more I worked hard, the more praise I received from them.
Before I knew it, I had become the unofficial youngest member (minor) of the knight order.
‘What the hell…’
I had dreamed of becoming an actor with the firm resolve never to become a soldier, yet somehow, I found myself back on the military path.
Although I wasn’t officially registered in the Imperial Knight Order due to my age, at this rate, it seemed inevitable that I would join as soon as I reached adulthood.
‘This isn’t right.’
Honestly, applying for a second non-commissioned officer position wasn’t the way to go.
I decided to take action before my life got any more tangled and headed towards the palace.
Bang!
“This is unacceptable!!!!”
“Quiet! Open the door gently!”
As I burst through a door somewhere in the palace, I found Leon, who was busy with paperwork.
It seemed odd for a 16-year-old to be doing such work, but rulers of a nation often start their preparations at a young age.
Moreover, in a great country like the Parma Empire, there’s so much to learn that it would likely take until their 30s to become proficient.
But that wasn’t the main issue.
If things continued like this, I was going to become a soldier!
When I explained my situation to Leon, omitting the story of my previous life, he responded nonchalantly without even looking up from his documents.
“Well, there’s nothing we can do. If you go to the sanctuary before turning 20, your soul will be twisted.”
Souls have growth plates, or soul nuclei, and if they’re revived with the power of the sanctuary while still immature, it could lead to a condition where the soul can no longer grow.
But that wasn’t a concern for me.
At 56 years old, both in my past and present life, my soul was not just mature but withered; it would be a blessing if there were still any growth plates left.
More importantly…
“So, doesn’t that mean I just need to avoid dying?”
Leon’s eyebrows twitched.
It seemed he wanted to argue against that but ultimately decided to refrain.
“So, please just help me out.”
“With what?”
“Just sign this.”
A sanctuary entry permit and forged identity papers.
With just these, I could start my career as an actor!
Crack.
The vein on Leon’s forehead throbbed as his pen snapped.
“Do you think it’s normal to ask for help breaking the law so boldly in front of the heir to this country?!”
“Well, a man should never back down from his beliefs, even if his name gets marked with a red line!”
“But you’re already marked!”
“Then I’ll just add one more line!”
Last time, I had ended up in prison for fishing with electricity in the palace pond, but wasn’t that a minor offense?
Seeing my defiance, Leon seemed exasperated. He rubbed his forehead and, reluctantly, helped with the permit and forged identity papers.
If he hadn’t helped, things would have been a hassle, so I was glad it didn’t come to that.
He pressed the seal onto the documents and handed them over to me.
“You were thinking of going to the slums if I didn’t sign this, weren’t you?”
“Well, I might have, if it were just identity forgery, but you can’t get a sanctuary permit in the slums.”
“So, were you planning to get it from a disgraced priest? In the black market?”
“Oh. Correct.”
Fortunately, thanks to Leon’s cooperation, things seemed to be moving smoothly.
Leon shook his head.
“But did the nanny and the old man know about this too?”
“Want me to tell you a truth?”
“?”
“Usually, it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.”
This was a truth I had learned when I was eight, after being warned not to shoot water rockets in the palace courtyard, and promptly breaking the Emperor’s office window with one.
“You would say that.”
Muttering, Leon leaned back in his chair.
He took a sip of the coffee on the desk and offered to pour me a cup.
“Just the way you always have it.”
When Leon called his attendant, my lemonade was brought in.
After the attendant placed the lemonade and left the office, Leon spoke again.
“By the way, I’m curious—could you tell me about the hero concept in advance?”
“That’s certainly possible.”
The hero.
In this world, it referred to an actor working in the sanctuary.
I cautiously handed over the debut concept and script.
When Leon first looked at the script, he had a somewhat okay reaction, but after finishing it, he showed a rather lackluster response.
It was even close to negative.
“No religious contemplation and no romance? Pure action? For a debut work, such an adventure… No, it looks interesting from just reading the script, but I wonder if the priests will think the same.”
“If the priests’ eyes aren’t just holes, wouldn’t they consider it novel and hire you?”
“Well, I don’t know. I know you’re creative, so I read it to the end, but those people would probably use the script as kindling after reading only the prologue.”
If the sanctuary is Hollywood in this world, then the priests residing in the sanctuary are more like producers.
However, there was a difference from the producers in my previous life.
In the past life, the producer would set the concept of the film in advance and then cast actors and directors to form the filming team.
In this world, the priests would review the concepts submitted by the actors (heroes) in the sanctuary’s job postings and pick one that they liked.
This tradition originated from the past practice where priests would receive divine messages and gather heroes and their companions to form hero parties.
The problem was that to make a movie, you needed to catch the eye of these priests, which meant that the themes of movies in this world were always centered around religion and love.
In that sense, Leon’s concern was valid.
The likelihood that they would choose such an adventurous genre was high, and they might not even give it a second glance.
“So, what should I do?”
“First, if you can get the priests to read your concept and script, the rest will work itself out somehow. I think I can help with that. Should I write a recommendation letter?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll bring the form. Wait here.”
The profession of a priest was surprisingly not politically neutral.
Unlike a pure religious position like a cleric, a priest was a state-appointed position.
Naturally, priests affiliated with the empire couldn’t refuse a recommendation letter from the prince and would read my entire script as a matter of courtesy.
Thanks to having a good friend, I was getting such an opportunity.
Leon handed me the recommendation letter with his seal and encouraged me.
“Do your best.”
“I’ll make sure to include your name in the ending credits.”
“That’s not necessary, just invite me to the premiere.”
“Got it.”
<John Armstrong> emerged like a comet in a market dominated by themes of religion and love.
With no thematic depth or moral lessons, the film’s initial reception was cynical.
“A man’s revenge after losing his wife? Just suitable for killing time.”
It began with critics, especially idle nobles.
Those who had seen most of the films showing in theaters extended their reach to <John Armstrong>, which had been relegated to a corner.
And the nobles who saw the film wrote in their newspaper reviews, repeating only:
“It opened a new horizon in directing.”
When asked about the story, they would respond:
“The directing was amazing.”
When questioned about the actor’s performance, their response was:
“The directing was excellent.”
When asked about the moral of the work, they would answer:
“Excellent directing offsets all the flaws.”
And when asked if there was any other moral besides the directing, they would say:
“Don’t disturb retired knights.”
Everyone repeatedly gave similar responses, so people, both nobles and commoners, moved toward the theaters with the thought of seeing it for themselves.
And whether noble or commoner, everyone echoed the same praise for the directing.
This phenomenon was given the name <John Syndrome>.
People were living in the era of John.
John Armstrong was a retired knight.
He was living a peaceful life with his wife, Matilda, and their dog, Buddy, in a cabin in the mountains.
But his peaceful life was abruptly shattered.
During his absence, organized criminals who coveted his wife had taken both his wife and dog.
When he arrived home, he was greeted by the bodies of his wife and dog—his dog who had died protecting his wife and his wife who had died covering the dog.
Ding!
At that moment, a crystal began to ring.
When he answered the crystal, a man’s voice came through from the other side.
“John. This was an accident.
My nephew, who didn’t know any better, committed such an act. I know it can’t be forgiven, but shamelessly, I must beg you.
I’ll give you anything you want. If you need money, I can give you half of my fortune, or even 80 percent. Please, in our conversation—
Clang!
John shattered the crystal and headed to the storage room behind the cabin.
He opened the storage room, lifted the carpet inside, and opened the attic door, revealing a safe.
Inside the safe were three handguns.
John strapped them all to his waist and exited the storage room.
“Uncle. Why are you so scared of a washed-up old man?”
“That old man you’re talking about is John himself.”
The boss of the organization, referred to as “uncle,” called his nephew while soothing his burning anger with alcohol.
And from his mouth came the revelation of John’s past.
A massive rebellion that nearly toppled the kingdom.
John, dispatched as a knight from the empire, was a legendary knight who single-handedly thwarted that rebellion.
“Five heroes. Twenty-seven knights. Thirty nobles. One hundred thirty mercenaries. The number of the dead that night.”
It was only then that the nephew began to grasp the reality of the existence he had summoned.
“Uncle, I—”
“You! You have destroyed our organization! It was you!!”
The scene shifted from the boss throwing a drink at his nephew to John’s side.
From then on, the scenes depicted John’s continuous battles.
In a mercenary dormitory, he killed five mercenaries with a pen.
In an alley, he dealt with the organization’s killers who were chasing him, using his revolver, and he piled up countless corpses in the city.
The enemies confronting John always had two reactions.
Those who knew John showed fear or respect and made way for him.
Those who didn’t know John mocked him, questioning his ability with a revolver.
“Can you kill someone with that piece of junk?”
In a world where physical enhancement was a basic norm, guns were considered outdated weapons.
Compared to enchanted arrows, bullets were too slow and had too little magical power.
Moreover, with the advent of magical crossbows, which excelled in convenience and portability, firearms had become obsolete.
Yet, whenever John’s enemies ridiculed his revolver, he subdued them with his graceful combat skills and joint locks, pulling the trigger from such close range that they couldn’t escape.
Those who laughed at him were left unable to smile again.
He painted the city’s nights with screams and blood, ultimately reaching the boss.
The boss, despite his struggles, met his death at John’s hands.
Having achieved his revenge, John returned to his cabin with his battered body, and the movie ended.
[Imperial Intelligence Department Emergency Report]
Hero Name: John Armstrong
Combat Rating: A
Featured Works: [John Armstrong], [John Armstrong 2: Loaded and Ready (In Production)]
Real Name: Allen Price
Age: 16
Affiliated Sect: God of Entertainment and Amusement
John Armstrong suddenly emerged and revolutionized modern combat manuals.
His methods are receiving attention from the military for their ability to perfectly address the shortcomings of crossbowmen and wizards in close combat.
However, the impact of his fighting style doesn’t end there.
It could also provide ranged weaponry or magic to martial artists.
He named this system CQC, or Close Quarters Combat, in the film.
The basic framework seems to be derived from Imperial wrestling, but the details appear to reference various other martial arts.
As a result, there is serious discussion within the military about training knights in this combat technique, indicating that it is too well-crafted to be dismissed as mere fiction.
At first glance, it might seem like just a new talented hero emerging from the empire.
However, there are issues: one is that the actor is the heir of the Price Count family, and the other is that other kingdoms are covertly investigating this actor.
The increase in the number of spies in the empire since the film’s release is problematic.
With the creation of the Sanctuary and the agreement that has made localized conflicts impossible, the importance of espionage in international relations cannot be overstated.
In such a situation, Allen Price’s combat was so groundbreaking that it could potentially overturn the dynamics of espionage and urban warfare.
Knowing this, other countries, despite the political risks, are eager to track down the person who played John Armstrong.
Therefore, our intelligence department proposes creating a team to simultaneously protect and monitor Allen Price.
Intelligence Department Section 3, Team 1.
“Allen.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Do you know that your maternal uncle is the head of the Intelligence Command?”
“I wasn’t aware of that.”
“I had forgotten as well.”
One day, when I was unexpectedly called to the office, Mother was sitting on the sofa and Father handed me the report he had been reading at his desk.
‘That was quicker than I expected.’
While performing in the Sanctuary, there were many ways to conceal one’s appearance.
Since before filming, avatars could be created to alter appearances except for gender and height.
However, it was beyond my calculations that my maternal uncle would be the head of the Intelligence Command, and that they would focus their surveillance on me.
“Explain yourself.”
Even though I had acted impulsively in seeking forgiveness, I still needed time to come up with excuses.
Naturally, I hadn’t prepared any excuses for this situation, and my vocabulary wasn’t fluent enough to come up with a decent explanation in a short time.
So, I decided to be shameless.
“But wasn’t it awesome?”
Wham!
With a powerful uppercut from Father, my body arced beautifully through the air.
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Nice
He acted as John wick, no way