WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Reluctant Imperialist
Chapter 110
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For the Emperor
In the grand conference hall packed with imperial ministers and bureaucrats, the Emperor's National Support Council was in full swing.
A long line of people climbed the stage: lobbyists from countless interest groups, elders from academic societies, mages from the Magic Tower, and men carrying titles like president of this association or that one. Every one of them poured out bills meant to protect their own interests.
“So, there have been many opinions saying the current restrictions on mages using mana stones are too severe, and based on my own research, I would like to propose a relaxation plan......”
The mages demanded a lower mana stone consumption tax.
“We strongly oppose this environmental regulation bill! If you tighten factory smoke emission standards, productivity will fall and the national economy will take a serious hit!”
Industrialists cried for environmental regulations to be scrapped.
“Please lower trade tariffs with the Empire's western region! Only then can we merchants circulate more goods and make the Empire prosperous!”
Merchants pleaded for tariff cuts.
Most proposals were harmful to the Empire as a whole, even if they brought huge benefits to one specific field.
People from every class, industrialists, mages, and many others, came up and suggested bill after bill, but most of it stayed at the level of formal procedure. The assembly members let it go in one ear and out the other, checking their clocks with strained faces or yawning.
The Empire's chancellor, Ken Steiner, had suddenly resigned one day, and the man who caused it would soon arrive.
Many industrialists had lobbied and petitioned palace nobles and lawmakers, but this time they could not bring themselves to accept any of it.
That was when the officials exchanged anxious looks.
Creeeeak.
The door opened. Every gaze snapped to the entrance. The noise died in an instant.
He stepped onto the red carpet of the conference hall.
Blond hair and golden eyes. A knight's formal uniform without a speck of dust. A stride without a single break in form.
He climbed the stage with perfect composure and elegance, and...
“I am Knight Maximilian of the Sentinel Order.”
Sure enough, just as the rumors said.
He looked exactly like Baltaras from the novel.
......
My speech, opening the first page of my blueprint with tax reform including withholding tax and recommendations on corporate obligations, was nearing its end.
“As all of you know, we are Aran. Our blood and sweat must be used only for us.”
I recited the script Johann had written. My voice rang clearly through the council hall. It carried a deliberate resonance no one had heard from me before.
To be honest, controlling my core this way was harder than most battles.
“The air we breathe, the land we tread, the fullness of life we enjoy, we must never forget that all of it is made possible within the fence called the Empire.”
The council script used far more polished vocabulary than a public speech. It was filled with literary phrasing nobles liked.
“Taxes do not need to be painful. If they are for the Empire, they should be devotion flowing as naturally as breath.”
I paused for a moment. Then I looked over the audience with a nobleman's bearing.
As Johann advised, I moved my gaze as if meeting everyone's eyes while fixing on no one in particular.
“The Aran wealth rising from the source itself will serve as the purest sword and shield of the Empire......”
Withholding tax. Structural reform of taxation.
A lighter tax burden for the Empire's lower classes, and tighter regulation on foreign corporations that sucked up only the Empire's profits.
The speech flowed at the right pace. Not too long, not too short. Only enough for the core points to be fully understood.
“......That was Knight Maximilian.”
I bowed my head quietly.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
In the rising applause, my eyes met Sonnet again. This time too, she pushed up her round glasses with her middle finger. I lightly scratched my eyebrow with my own middle finger.
That was our greeting.
......
Hermes Province, with the largest landmass in the south.
Thanks to Maximilian's many businesses and infrastructure like the Aternum factory, this place had quietly gained population and had already risen as the heart driving the southern imperial economy.
“So, exactly how many percent is our weekly pay dropping?”
“No clue.”
Inside the workers' locker room.
After finishing their shift, they changed clothes and talked about the new bill.
“I heard around twenty percent from the supervisor?”
“Ah...... damn. I wanted to buy my kid a nice gift.”
“No need for that. We are just paying taxes early. You will get used to it quick.”
“They said the Knight proposed it himself. If it helps the country, we should accept it......”
They laughed bitterly as they took off their work uniforms.
They filed outside and lined up at the payroll counter. A long line had already formed.
The clerk spoke to them.
“Listen up, everyone! As you know, the tax law was revised and takes effect immediately, so withholding tax starts from this week's pay. Looks like our factory will be the first to implement it!”
He pointed to the items written on the chalkboard.
“Medical insurance, pension, unemployment benefits, and income tax will be deducted in advance. On top of that, including dues for the Arten Labor Union established by the Knight's order, exactly 25.5% will be deducted. It is just taxes paid early, so please do not feel too wronged!”
The workers received their envelopes one by one, but they still turned away with gloomy faces.
They understood it was for the country. They understood it was early tax payment too. Even so, the money in hand right now would be smaller...
“Huh?”
One worker opened his envelope and suddenly went wide-eyed.
“It is the same though?”
The amount had not dropped. No, it was slightly higher than last week. Other workers quickly checked theirs too.
“Hey, mine too?”
“Did they mess up the math?”
Murmurs spread, and the clerk smiled brightly.
“No. The calculations are correct.”
He had been trained for this.
A psychological technique: deliver the bad news first, then give a bigger reward.
“As much as you are paying in taxes, Aternum has raised weekly wages. Since all of you kept exceeding your targets, our Knight Maximilian!”
He paused on Maximilian's name.
“Has given special consideration. So the amount you take home has actually increased.”
The workers' faces lit up.
They paid taxes, but their money did not drop. If anything, thanks to the Knight's grace, their wages had risen. No, they truly had risen.
The workers let out loud cheers, and when those faded, the clerk slapped the chalkboard a few times.
“But remember this clearly.”
His expression turned serious.
“All these benefits come solely from the Knight's heart for the Empire. The Knight trusted you and invested in the Empire's future.”
Then he pointed to a poster on the factory wall.
“The Knight and all of you are imperial Aran. So we too serve only the Empire.”
His firm voice echoed through the factory.
“If anyone tries to bring suspicious people or subversive ideas into Aternum, report it without fail. That is how we protect our livelihoods and repay the Knight's grace.”
This was the message the clerk delivered every day at quitting time.
It had gone far beyond warning, almost into ideological brainwashing.
“You are raising your families inside the Empire's fence. Thanks to the Empire, you live in good homes and eat good meals. Without the Empire, none of us can keep this life. Remember that.”
The workers nodded with grave faces.
“Ah, also, there will be a surprise inspection before you leave today. Every worker should go through a short interview with that person over there.”
The clerk pointed somewhere. A woman in sunglasses. Yukia stood there.
“After that, please collect your Worker Notebook......”
* * *
This Empire had artists, painters, and architects too.
Naturally.
Yet when the economy collapsed and war clouds gathered, those were the first things thrown away. To the poor, one painting was just luxury. To the rich, it became dead weight with no liquidity.
Still, I planned to protect those meaningless values for a while.
“Sir Knight. The Arte Museum went bankrupt and has come up for auction.”
One quiet afternoon, I nodded at the staff officer's report.
“Let's go.”
I got in the car at once and headed there.
The Arte Museum, once known as the largest in the Empire.
But now it did not have a single visitor. The spring wind whipping down the street felt bleak.
“Wait outside.”
“Yes, sir.”
Empty entrance. No one at the counter. The ticket was ten dollars, so I tossed in one hundred in cash and walked inside.
Thud-thud. Thud-thud.
Each step echoed too loudly. It was almost uncomfortable.
At least I would not need to worry about assassination here.
Thud-thud.
The interior fixtures were mostly stripped bare, but the artworks hanging on the walls were still kept clean.
“......”
I stood in the middle and looked over the paintings.
“......Unexpected.”
Someone walked out from the inner gallery. A neat elderly man in an elegant suit. It was Verdi, the director of Arte.
“I did not expect you to come here.”
Caution sat in Verdi's voice.
I asked flatly.
“What image of me led you to think that?”
The director gave a bitter smile and straightened one painting on the wall.
“Maximilian Ebenholtz. Son of Duke Sebestian. Most noble in appearance, with extraordinary looks, yet......”
He turned toward me.
“They say there is a monster living inside.”
Monster. I quietly closed my eyes.
In a way, that was true.
I meant the virus inside me, not myself.
“I see.”
I took one step toward him.
“Then are you not afraid of someone like me, Director?”
“......Sir Knight. I remember faces very well.”
Director Verdi looked at me steadily.
“Long ago, I saw you as a child. Your bright, clear eyes were lovely. You were a child whose eyes sparkled as if everything in the world was wondrous.”
“How could I fear you, when that child remains so vivid in my memory?”
I gave a bitter smile. Back then, that child had felt something deeply special while looking at the artworks hanging here.
“Yes. That is right. I was probably holding the hand of the person I loved most.”
Mother.
My mother.
She loved art, and she loved beauty.
“......That child became you.”
The director's eyes grew complicated.
Verdi had been an old friend of Ken Steiner. So of course he had no good feelings toward me, the one who ruined him.
Maybe hatred would be more accurate.
“Then will you refuse support from that child as well?”
I asked directly.
The director's brows twitched.
“Support?”
“......”
Verdi glared at me and asked quietly.
“What is this for?”
There was nothing kind in that question. Nobles who were truly noble hated me.
Maybe they despised me.
“For beauty alone.”
Even so, I gave him a faint smile.
“No matter what destruction comes, there is beauty we must protect and keep. Not as a means, but as existence itself.”
Protecting this museum was partly my personal desire, but not only that.
“Beauty that, by looking at it alone, lets me remember the person I loved most, and relive the happiest time of my life.”
I looked at the director. I pulled out a checkbook and scribbled a number. Then I tore the check cleanly and set it on the table.
“My mother cherished this place very much.”
And there was another great person who loved this place as well.
This was also for her.
A kind of stepping stone to reach her.
“......”
The director's face darkened. Distrust weighed heavily in his aged eyes. Even before a check of enormous value, he showed no greed.
“......It is not money earned by killing people. So you do not need to worry about that.”
Looking at him, I added with a bitter tone.
“I am trying in my own way, Director Verdi.”
From now on, I would live my whole life treated as a monster, so I would not rage at that look in your eyes, and I would not be hurt by it.
I would only smile faintly and leave quietly.
I had resolved to bear all this hatred from the moment I regressed.
Haa.
I heard the director sigh behind me.
I could not tell whether it was relief or a deeper lament, but at least this museum would not disappear.
* * *
Late that night.
Director Verdi was deep in thought. The cause was the check Maximilian had left.
“I cannot understand this......”
He kept replaying Maximilian's words about preserving the museum his mother loved, and wrestled with them.
Tap.
The museum's silence broke in an instant.
A new guest entered.
Tap.
The sound of heels echoed through the empty gallery.
Verdi looked up.
Tap.
From the dark, a woman walked in. Her clothes were not flashy, but elegant. Moonlight through the window lit her blond hair.
“......”
She walked slowly through the gallery, examining the canvases.
“It has been a while.”
At Verdi's greeting, she only gave a small nod without speaking. Beside her stood an unnamed knight, attached to her like a shadow.
She finally spoke. Her voice was low, but carried an unmistakable authority.
“Good. Then there were only two visitors today.”
“One more than none. That is fortunate.”
Her eyes moved. Her blond hair swayed with the motion.
“Hm......”
Soon she stopped before one painting.
[Secret of the Sea]
A landscape where a black sea and red sunset mixed together.
She stared at it for a long time, then suddenly turned to the director.
“Would you brew me a cup of black tea?”
The guard beside her was startled and tried to stop her, but she waved him off with one gesture.
“......Yes. I will bring it.”
The director hurried to the pantry. He did not treat her carelessly. No, he could not. At first glance she had a very youthful face, but the dignity flowing from her could not be compared with anyone else in the Empire.
“Here it is.”
He quickly returned with warm black tea.
She raised the cup and wet her lips.
“So these paintings are to be sold outside the Empire now?”
Her eyes swept over the paintings. Her expression held regret at these traces of declining art.
“No.”
The director looked at her and answered carefully.
“I met one patron.”
“A patron?”
“Yes.”
“In times like these, there is an eccentric who funds art?”
She gave a small snort of laughter. For some reason, it sounded relieved.
“Who is it?”
“......Knight Maximilian.”
At that moment, the hand holding her cup paused.
Maximilian.
The name most often repeated in the palace these days.
“......I see. Maximilian.”
The way she spoke his name was similar to Baron Verdi. At the very least, she did not seem to like him.
“Then will you open tomorrow as well?” she asked.
“Yes. Most likely, yes.”
“Will you open the day after tomorrow, and the day after that too?”
She asked again. She was asking about the museum's continuity.
“Yes. I will make sure of it.”
If even one person truly loved art, that was reason enough to open the museum.
Even if that support came from a monster, there had still been clear purity in that monster's heart.
“......Is that so.”
She gave a faint smile.
“I was planning to look around quickly before it closed. Seems I do not need to now.”
Tap. She set down her teacup with satisfied brows.
“Then I will be leaving for today.”
“Yes. If you come again soon, I think we may even bring in new canvases.”
“That is good news.”
She smiled clearly, but it was obvious that some monster lived inside her heart too.
It had to be that way, given her bloodline.
“I will come often.”
She left first, and the knight glared at the director and said,
“Keep silent.”
The way he threatened while touching the sword at his waist made his background easy to guess.
“......Yes. I will keep silent.”
Verdi bowed deeply once more.
He had already guessed her identity long ago.
The Emperor had only one child, and that heir was a woman who loved artworks.
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