The Reluctant Imperialist - Chapter 108

WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ The Reluctant Imperialist

Chapter 108

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How to Reach a Dream (3)

Downtown Berkina.

I bought up an entire prime block on a busy street and started construction right away.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Heavy machinery powered by mana stones ran nonstop.

The business model I was launching here was Kanillan's newest club.

Mana stone speakers, outer walls finished in transparent glass... in Berkina, it would become an especially decadent playground.

"A club."

Yulian looked up at the construction site and murmured.

"Have you been to one?"

"Yes. Once in Kanillan."

Drugs always led to nightlife in the end. If we built a flashy, stimulating playground in the heart of Berkina, cartel executives would gather like moths to a flame.

There was no better trap for tracking their movements, finding their weaknesses, and, if needed, abducting them without a trace.

"I see."

"We'll build a base under the roadside. An armory, holding cells, even a communications room. This whole place will probably become our command post."

Truthfully, I had not spent much. The price of two or three buildings in the Empire's central wealthy district had been enough.

I took out bearer bonds and handed them to Yulian.

"Please take these. Sir Knight Yulian, you are now the owner of this club. I'm too busy with imperial work to stay here, so I am entrusting this place's operations and organizational management entirely to you."

Yulian took the bonds and nodded.

There was no reason to doubt his ability, so all I needed to do was back him.

"One thing, though... before I leave, I want to see this friend you've picked out."

The one concern was that Yulian could not distinguish Izenheim.

...

A tavern in Berkina's border region.

Kalon, who ran a lower cartel branch out of that place, bent deeply at the waist before someone.

"I'm sorry!"

The man in front of him was Luca, an action captain under the Parmano Cartel.

Tap. Luca pressed a gun barrel to Kalon's forehead. Kalon dropped to his knees at once.

"I'm sorry! Just three days, give me three days and I'll somehow-"

"Two."

Luca cut him off with a greasy smile.

"No, tomorrow. If you don't bring it by tomorrow, this kid will take your spot. Understand?"

He patted the shoulder of a young boy standing beside him.

"...Yes."

The kid had a baby face, not even twenty yet. He looked down at him with even more arrogance than Luca and snickered, but Kalon could do nothing. He hid his expression and only bowed his head lower.

"Then see you tomorrow. Have it ready, you freeloading bastard."

Luca and his men left. Kalon's subordinates rushed over and pulled him up.

"Boss. Are you alright?"

"..."

Kalon ground his teeth in silence. More than anger, he felt stunned.

How could he possibly raise that amount by tomorrow-

Jingle.

At that moment, the tavern door opened and two people entered.

A subordinate tried to block them, but the visitors ignored him.

"Kalon."

One of them called his name. Kalon flinched and looked up.

A familiar face. It was Yulian, the imperial knight.

"...Let them through. You all, get out."

Kalon quickly pulled a few bills from his wallet and dismissed his men.

Step. Step.

Yulian and his companion walked in and sat down.

"Looks rough."

"It's nothing. Not a big deal."

Kalon forced a calm expression. He looked at the man beside Yulian, black hair and sharp eyes. The man gave him a cold once-over.

It felt like blades were crossing under his throat.

"Is this him?" the man asked. Yulian nodded.

"His name is Kalianros, shortened to Kalo. As you can see, he's a capo of a minor cartel. Though his influence is too weak to call him a capo. Then again, capos have capos above them. That's how it goes."

"Hm."

The man looked at Kalo and smiled faintly.

"Looks like you're deep in debt."

"...The tribute payment suddenly spiked, so I had no choice-"

"Can you repay it by tomorrow?"

"..."

Kalo kept his mouth shut. That was his answer.

Thud.

The man lifted a bag and placed it on the table.

"Take it. Three million imperial dollars."

"...What?"

"Plus this."

He set down a duffel bag on the floor. With a rattle, what was inside spilled into view. Guns, ammunition, grenades, and other weapons filled it.

"These are what you need right now."

Money was one thing, but the weapons were even bigger. In Berkina, lower organizations had no way to get hardware like this. Cartels watched one another with bloodshot eyes.

"Huh?"

Kalo's head tilted on its own.

Was this a dream?

Had Luca killed him just now, and was this the afterlife?

As Kalo stared blankly between the money, the weapons, and the two men-

"Kalo."

Yulian put a hand on his shoulder and said,

"From this moment on, as an imperial collaborator, you will carry out an imperial mission."

...

Berkina's night market.

We sat side by side at a street stall and ate. The presentation was rough, but the local flavor, loaded with spices, was excellent.

"Do you like him?" Yulian asked, tearing into chicken.

"Yes. I like his eyes. You picked the right person."

Kalianros. I knew that name. Right now he was just another cartel executive, but later he would subdue Berkina's chaotic territories and become a drug king.

"The cartel took his parents and younger sibling. He handles mana well and speaks Imperial fluently. More than anything, his core is solid."

"It shows."

With my money behind him, Kalo would grow his force quickly, and when the time was right, he would burn Ashton as kindling.

A knight's corpse would stir imperial rage and create a pretext for cartel eradication.

When most cartels except Kalo were hit close to annihilation, he would fill the vacuum.

"The operation codename is Path of Dreams. What do you think?"

That was the name I would put in the report.

"Not bad."

Right then, the dish we ordered arrived. Berkina-style chicken, deep-fried whole and coated with spicy sauce.

I bit into a piece.

Crisp skin, juicy meat.

Delicious.

"Tasty."

I stripped a drumstick in no time.

Should I order one more bird.

"Owner, one more."

"Eat plenty. Berkina is famous for food. You'll miss it when you return to the Empire."

-Crunch. Crunch.

That sound came each time we tore into the chicken.

-Crunch. Crunch.

After the meal, we stood up.

"Then, Sir Knight, take care."

It was time to part.

I had to return to the Empire, and Yulian had to stay here.

"You take care too."

* * *

Yulian had Yulian's dream. I had mine.

Mine was the survival of humanity, not one individual, and it required extremely complex effort. At times it had to be carved into a sword, at times into a gun, at times onto paper...

-Conference room of the Imperial Ministry of Finance.

I formally proposed a tax reform bill built around withholding tax at the Emperor's National Support Council. The documents were massive. Based on Johann's ideas, Dieter took charge of review and refinement.

With two geniuses combined from the start, it was bound to be far more precise than before regression.

"...So in the end, you're saying we should collect more taxes?"

Director Oscar adjusted his glasses and asked.

"The opposite."

I shook my head firmly.

"We should sharply cut taxes for low-income groups and multi-child households instead."

"Hah. And where will that enormous budget come from? Are we supposed to dig it out of the ground?"

"You know this already. Many corporations are exploiting the Empire."

The Empire had to secure war financing. Even while fighting wars, it could not be left gasping for money.

Still, that could not be done by exploiting its subjects.

I presented another document.

"Foreign corporations are remitting huge profits earned in the Empire back to their home countries. This is, in effect, a national outflow of wealth."

Capital from several western states had penetrated the Empire, along with comprador capital feeding off them.

"We should completely ban overseas remittance of profits and impose punitive taxation on violations. Also, surplus profits above a certain scale must be used to purchase imperial government bonds."

"..."

Director Oscar went blank. The other staff looked much the same.

Imperial bureaucrats still seemed somewhat naive.

Then again, the bizarre evil laws of that era all came from the Imperial Guard, or more precisely, from Johann's head.

"Aran who own companies yet refuse to serve the nation are no exception. They too should be 'advised' to purchase imperial bonds with part of their profits."

Oscar gave a disbelieving laugh just then.

"If that happens."

The deep voice that rang out belonged to Chancellor Ken Steiner, seated at the head.

"Several companies and factories under Knight Maximilian, including Aternum, will also fall under taxation."

Ken Steiner.

He was a noble. A noble among nobles.

Sadly for him, he had already fallen out of the Emperor's favor.

"You are also a businessman, are you not? You would take the greatest loss."

"Yes. I am saying I will accept that willingly."

I had no intention of preserving my money. In a world headed for destruction, protecting margins was meaningless flailing.

"You seem unaware of how immense the required administrative power would be. Corporate backlash, diplomatic friction, market chaos... can you bear that?"

"I rely only on His Majesty's will."

Ken Steiner's brow furrowed.

"...His Majesty's will?"

"Yes. I am thinking about the great enterprise the Empire seeks to accomplish."

Every word spoken here would be relayed to the Emperor.

The Emperor of the Empire believed himself a god, and he had the authority to match that belief.

Legitimacy as if bestowed by heaven. A man born from one of the rare bloodlines in the Empire's thousand-year history.

And if it was for his own achievement, he was prepared to do anything-

"For the royal legitimacy and true line of succession, for His Majesty, the most perfect and lofty Emperor."

I would become his perfect loyal servant.

"The Empire must secure war resources and unite its strength. I am prepared only for that-"

"I do not think so."

Ken Steiner shook his head.

"There are still unexplored lands on the continent. Think of the resources buried there. The Empire can enjoy prosperity again without resorting to the uncertainty of war."

That was why Chancellor Steiner would be forced out. The Empire had managed not to collapse in bankruptcy this long thanks to his excellent economic policy, yet the Emperor would remove him.

Because he was clearly anti-war.

"..."

I looked around the room without speaking. Ken Steiner's opposition was expected, but I hardened my face as if angered.

"...That is regrettable, Chancellor Ken Steiner."

At my words, the bureaucrats licked their lips.

"Deeply regrettable."

Their heads lowered, little by little.

Ken alone did not avoid my gaze.

* * *

Night fell.

Maximilian's radical tax proposal spread through the whole palace in a single night. Leutern II, that loose-lipped gossip, had also spent the entire day shouting that this was the true policy for the Empire.

"...It has become unavoidable."

In the deepest chamber of the Most Holy Sanctum, the Emperor raged.

At the same time, he was pleased.

He was pleased by Maximilian's loyal legal proposal, and furious at Ken Steiner's still-timid face.

It was unavoidable.

The Emperor had favored Ken Steiner for decades, but they had grown old in different ways.

"That old man is old."

The Emperor's close aide, Chief Secretary Grossman, murmured in a low voice while smoking a cigar.

Before him stood Werner, Director of the Central Intelligence Department of the Empire's direct agency.

"His Majesty liked Maximilian's proposal very much. His loyalty too. So we should follow His Majesty's will."

Grossman let out a long stream of smoke.

In truth, Maximilian's sudden rise had enough momentum to make even him wary.

Yet if the Emperor's favor leaned that way, there was no need to resist it. Better to ride the current and remove Ken Steiner, a political enemy.

Power inside the palace was still split in all directions beneath the Emperor, and Grossman was only one part of that.

"Handle it quietly."

Ken Steiner. An order to cut down the giant tree that had supported the Empire's economy.

"Yes."

The intelligence chief bowed and backed out of the office.

-Sizzle.

Grossman crushed his cigar into the ashtray. Staring at the dying ember, he sank into heavy thought.

"Maximilian..."

Sebestian's son, heir of Ebenholtz.

Until now, Grossman had not kept House Ebenholtz in check. There had been no reason. Sebestian moved only by the Emperor's command, the Emperor's sword.

But what about Maximilian.

Was that young knight the same as his father, or did he carry something greater.

"For now, I should watch."

Grossman never relaxed.

He only stared out at the imperial darkness beyond the window and considered a future where his authority stood strongest...

...

Late one night.

Ken Steiner left the palace. These days, the National Support Council had kept him buried in nonstop work.

"Thank you for your work."

"You all worked hard as well."

He exchanged greetings with Ministry of Finance staff, exhausted just like him, then climbed into his car.

"We will depart."