I Became the Slit-Eyed Henchman of the Evil Boss - Chapter 73

WeTried Translations

Translator: Botanica

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ I Became the Slit-Eyed Henchman of the Evil Boss ◈

Chapter 73

──────

Future Planning (1)

I'd asked about the identity of whoever had taken Bacchus's seat, but Demos's answer wasn't what I'd expected.

'He asked me back if there had even been anyone there.'

Some kind of sacred invocation had probably been concealing their presence. My eyes were just too sharp for that kind of disguise to work on.

The thirteenth god.

'As for candidates....'

The Order of the Divine Name was a federation attended by representatives of the cults that served the mightiest gods. Narrowing the candidates down by the authority it took to be called one of the "mightiest gods" left about two names standing.

Estia, said to have belonged to the twelve most flourishing cults before Bacchus. The goddess of the hearth. According to Blasphemia's research records, the balance of power between her cult and the Bacchus cult had reversed at some point in ancient times.

Since Sikton's rampage had wiped out the Bacchus cult entirely, there was a chance she'd been called into the Order of the Divine Name to fill the void Bacchus left behind.

Or Pluton, god of the underworld.

Even in mythology, this was a reclusive figure who rarely appeared alongside other gods, but there was no doubt this deity held a status equal to the other great gods.

Actually, I'd always wanted to meet a cleric of Pluton someday. If anyone knew why I'd been reborn in this world, it would be the god of the underworld.

I'd given up on that a long time ago, unable to find any trace, and now here I was, glimpsing an actual chance to meet one.

"If I'd known this would happen, I should've opened my eyes and taken a look."

For now, there was no way to know whether that thirteenth priest served Estia or Pluton. Either way, if I waited for contact from the other cults, a chance to reach the thirteenth priest would come eventually.

For now, I'd head home and get some rest.

I boarded the mana-engine train bound for Etna City and closed my eyes.

* * *

Bertrand was tense to the point of dread. The president had summoned him.

With the stubborn integrity typical of a dwarf, he'd carried out every task assigned to him thoroughly, but there might still be something that fell short of perfectionist Karisia's standards.

'Ugh, maybe I should've finished the gauntlet faster.'

If he offered up a sacrifice and bought a little goodwill, maybe this thick, clinging pressure would ease off some. Bertrand headed for the president's office, thinking of the gauntlet blueprint he'd already been working on for months.

"Come in, Director Bertrand."

"What did you need me for?"

Karisia sent a file to Bertrand's mana proxy. It was some kind of blueprint.

"This is...."

It fell far short of a proper technical drawing. Instead of exact structural specs or material ratios, most of the sentences were wish-list items along the lines of "it'd be nice if it worked like this."

But that actually made the design's overall purpose easier to grasp.

"Is this some kind of airship?"

"Yes. Call it a high-output levitation engine, more or less."

The vision packed into that blueprint was far too enormous to sum up in such a simple phrase. An engine with an output scale never seen before. "High-output" wasn't even enough; it would take something like "ultra-high-output" or "maximum-output" before the adjective could match what Karisia was actually asking for.

The further into the blueprint he read, the more blank spaces there were. At this point, "planning" or "concept" fit better than "design."

Reading through the blueprint, Bertrand felt a cold sweat trickling down his back. He remembered how, at a director's dinner sometime back, once Karisia had stepped away from the table, a drunk Arabel had gone off ranting about how "there's no bigger piece of work in this world than her."

Something about a crazy boss who demanded anything doable get finished in a single night, ordered the impossible made possible, and treated overtime as a given.

"You don't mean...."

"I would like you to complete this blueprint. You're welcome to set aside all your other work and focus solely on this, if you like."

"The, the deadline?"

"I would like it done as quickly as possible, but realistically, a mere few months will not be enough time. I will not set a separate deadline."

He nearly sighed in relief. There were far too many gaps in the blueprint as a technical drawing, and the output being demanded went beyond common sense. Even running the hologram simulator around the clock, it would take half a year just to work out the blueprint concept alone...

"I will be checking on your progress every week, so please report in."

"Excuse me?"

"No need to feel pressured. A written report will do just fine, you don't need to report in person."

After a few more exchanges, Bertrand left the president's office with one phrase circling endlessly in his head: starting next week, please report in.

Today was the Day of Silver Iron. One day before the Day of Black Darkness, the rest day.

"Oh? What brings you out here?"

Unable to bring himself to tell the other miners and engineers that they'd all be pulling overtime starting today, the day before their day off, Bertrand had been pacing outside the president's office door when a familiar voice reached his ears.

"Office Head Ortes?"

* * *

I heard from Bertrand about Karisia's brutal work order. I couldn't even begin to guess what she'd need an engine of that scale for....

"Well, according to the work order itself, you are free to draw on any personnel or resources within Hydra Corp as needed, are you not? For starters, why not call in Geryones or Kaicel and secure the mana you'll need?"

"You think the two of them would actually come? Mages who run their own Magic Towers aren't likely to answer a summons from me...."

"Could you not just make clear this was ordered directly by the president? Who's going to refuse the president's authority? And if you mention it to whichever other director has spare hands, Director Arabel or Director Cryton, say, they'd cooperate eagerly enough too."

I was teaching Bertrand the wisdom of borrowing someone else's authority. Invoke Karisia's name, and there was nothing in Etna City you couldn't get done.

"Hm, does the Office Head of the Divinity Investigation Office also agree this should move forward in earnest?"

What? Was he trying to draft me into this too?

I recalled the work order Bertrand had shown me. Right at the bottom, sure enough, was a line reading "may request use of any and all of Hydra Corp's tangible and intangible resources as needed," along with Karisia's signature.

Naturally, that meant I was included among the assets Bertrand could requisition.

I nodded, no other choice. I couldn't very well ignore a document Karisia had signed.

'This guy's not so simple either. Trying to throw someone straight into work the moment they're back from a business trip.'

It seemed Karisia's work orders were contagious. Some kind of syndrome where all guilt over working your subordinates into the ground just disappears. Genuinely terrifying.

"Understood. Well then, enjoy your day off."

Bertrand strode off, brimming with confidence.

"What was that."

Why'd he even ask my opinion?

I thought it over for a moment and concluded that Bertrand's consideration for others outclassed even Karisia's.

He probably felt bad throwing someone straight into work right after a business trip, so he meant to send for me once the holiday was over.

I decided to go one step further than Bertrand. The moment the holiday ended, I'd vanish somewhere he couldn't reach me.

* * *

Bertrand thought it over.

'If I ask them to cooperate since it's the president's order, they might just claim they're too busy handling their own orders from the president, and slip away.'

It was true. Every director, Bertrand included, had at least one task Karisia had assigned personally.

Even Meconion had her own assignment: compiling a list of every outlet she'd sold her drugs through and tracing the flow of it all.

In that kind of environment, if you tried to push yet another one of Karisia's assignments on someone, they could easily dodge it with something like "I'll need to finish my other work first."

Over these past few months of redeveloping all of Etna City, the directors had gradually gotten used to the crushing workload, and had, in turn, gotten very good at manufacturing excuses to catch a break. Unless Karisia came and gave the order in person, every one of them would do their level best to dodge it.

But now Bertrand himself had Ortes's backing to lean on.

'If I add the Office Head of the Divinity Investigation Office's name to it, I can cut down on the miners' overtime.'

Push the burden onto the other directors, no, share it with them, and the miners' union members could finally breathe. Bertrand smiled, satisfied.

It was the kind of smile that would've made Arabel shriek, "Even that old man's caught it from those two!" if she'd seen it.

* * *

I planned to wrap up my business-trip report quickly and go rest early.

The Order hadn't given me any answer to my proposal yet, and I hadn't actually done all that much out in the field, so the math said the report should wrap up fast.

"I have finished laying the groundwork to stir up internal conflict within the Order of the Divine Name. Even in the worst-case outcome, they will not be able to just ignore the prophecy I gave them."

"What prophecy?"

"The prophecy that the Mage King is returning."

The corner of Karisia's mouth twitched. Her eyes said, plain as anything, 'What are you even talking about right now.'

...Come to think of it, I never told Karisia about this either.

"It is not something that is coming right away. Three years from now-"

"Ortes."

Karisia's voice cut me off. Same tone as always, which made it impossible to read her feelings. My mouth was going dry for some reason.

"...Yes."

The brief wait before Karisia's next words felt endless.

"If we set off an artificial Ten Commandments right where he's trying to be resurrected, wouldn't that kill him?"

"What do you mean by that?"

I still couldn't quite figure out what was going on in Karisia's head.