WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Reluctant Imperialist

Chapter 88

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Party (2)

The records room of the Imperial Palace Inspectorate.

Dozens of accountants and investigators were combing through stacks of documents.

They were trying to uncover any signs of tax evasion at the Aternum factory and the Rommilton mine.

Rustle, rustle.

The sound of pages turning was loud.

Rustle, rustle.

Mana stone was a major resource across the world. It was the mineral that sustained human civilization, so calling it the most important resource was no exaggeration.

But mana stone came in grades.

Magic towers used high-grade mana stones for spell development and research. Many advanced magi-engineering technologies also required high-grade mana stone. High-ranking artifacts did too, and the recently popular Spherical Aura Guard went even further, requiring top-purity mana stone.

On the other hand, trains and factories ran on low-purity mana stone, impurity-filled leftovers.

Rustle, rustle.

So under tax law, high purity and low purity were taxed at different rates. Noble houses that owned many mana stone mines evaded taxes by reporting high-purity stones as low-purity ones, or by claiming they were damaged during extraction and writing them off as losses.

It was an open secret among imperial nobles. Even the Imperial Palace tolerated that level of tax cutting.

In that sense, this inspection had actually come from lobbying by other mana stone houses trying to keep Maximilian in check.

But.

"...Director."

The inspector reviewing the ledger stopped.

"It's astonishingly clean."

"...Ha."

Director Ditmar let out a dry laugh.

"I've never seen books like this."

The inspector gave the ledger a little shake, as if dusting it off. Not a single speck fell. It was almost absurd.

"What do you think?"

Ditmar looked toward a corner of the records room. A woman in round glasses was reading through documents with meticulous focus.

"Lady Kandel."

Sonnet of House Kandel raised her head.

"...I have no objections."

Tap. She removed her glasses and set them on the table.

"Maximilian von Ebenholtz..."

Chew, chew.

Rolling the gum she always chewed when concentrating, Sonnet gave her conclusion.

"He's an imperial loyalist whose words match his actions."

"Yes. The documents make that clear. And as for Department Director Lutz Rozen's disappearance, the circumstances suggest Leutern II."

"Yes. That seems right."

Sonnet neatly folded a tissue and spat out her gum into it.

"Leutern moved against the agency too rashly."

The Emperor's direct agencies had their own independent systems. A mere department head would not have dug into Ebenholtz on his own. If they had proper cause, they had enough power to put a stain on even a great house.

"No matter how powerful Leutern is in the palace, if he killed an agency executive without justification, he crossed the line."

Now the agency would watch Leutern like hyenas. The focus had shifted from Maximilian to Leutern.

Leutern II would be torn apart when he was at his weakest.

"Maximilian... did he foresee even this?"

The corner of Sonnet's mouth twisted slightly.

"...Pardon?"

He made Leutern his ally, removed Lutz, then turned Leutern into the agency's enemy and isolated him.

Killing two obstacles at once by borrowing another's hand. It was so neat it felt staged, and that made it unsettling.

"No, it's nothing."

Sonnet straightened her clothes and left the records room.

In her mind, the shadow called Maximilian grew one shade darker.

* * *

Late February, with spring still waiting to arrive, at a penthouse in the Kanillan Independent State.

I set up a new office there. It looked like I would be coming and going often.

“Ah, yes, sir. It's Russell, vice president of KNSE. You remember me, right? Lately I've only met your representative.”

It was a call from Russell.

"I remember."

“Glad to hear it. How have you been? Kanillan has been posting gains day after day!”

His voice was very pleasant.

He had no manners, but he was so brazen about it that I almost wanted to give him a chance at least once.

"Any chance you'd take the same position as me?"

“Ah, no, I'm fine. I'll pass! Oh, right, I heard you're attending the Land Protocol demo this time? Your representative received the invitation.”

Russell still thought I was the Empire's "Ebert." Taking photos of imperial nobles out of the Empire was a serious crime, and since I was known for blond hair and golden eyes, changing just my hair and iris color made me hard to identify.

"I'm skeptical of that technology, so I'm considering shorting it."

“Short it, puhahaha!”

He laughed loudly.

Nice voice. Very nice.

“Ah, sorry. That's such a doomsday-theorist way to think.”

Hahaha.

Doomsday theorist... for a finance man, he really was quick on the uptake.

"Yes. I've also been thinking about the end of the world."

Thanks to Russell, I remembered something I needed to do. I took manuscript paper and a fountain pen out of my bag and set them on the desk.

One of the tasks absolutely necessary for my goal.

I had been too busy at year-end, but things had eased recently, so I planned to start serious writing. It was the first draft of the autobiography that would spread my intent through the Empire, something I'd always thought about but never quite gotten used to putting into words.

“Wow, impressive. If you short the whole continent, you'll make a killing.”

Scratch, scratch.

The fountain pen tip scraped across the paper.

“If you're that certain... good! I'll bet 100 dollars!”

"What are the odds?"

“Hmm. Maybe around 1,000 to 1. Anyway, see you on March 3. I'll hand you that 100 dollars then.”

"All right."

“Yes, hanging up!”

Russell ended the call, and I scribbled whatever came to mind on the blank page.

[I was born in House Ebenholtz's main estate in the imperial center. My father is Sebestian, and my mother is Cecilia...]

Stop.

I froze on the first page.

Cecilia. The person I loved most in this world, and lost far too soon for how much I loved her.

Thinking about you was always painful. Your death left a deep scar on me, and perhaps on Sebestian too.

"..."

I closed my eyes for a moment, then moved the pen again.

I cut back the sentiment and just lined up words.

This manuscript was only a draft anyway. Later I planned to hire a ghostwriter. I knew someone who would one day become infamous as a war criminal, yet whose writing skill was unmatched.

What mattered was the content.

[Aran are the purest ruling race and the leading force of civilization. Therefore, we have a duty to calm the continent's chaos and establish a new order.]

Aran. The supreme race declared by the Emperor and the Empire.

But the Empire failed to clearly establish the hierarchy after that, and made far too many enemies.

[Gennen are historically inseparable friends of Aran. They are worthy to enter the battlefield with us....]

[Also, many western nations can be considered collateral branches of Aran, so one day they must gather again under a single flag.]

A line implying western unification, exactly what the Emperor preached so fiercely and desired so deeply.

[In contrast, the East is inferior. They are uncivilized barbarians, and must be ruled by the Empire....]

The Eastern Alliance I would face someday was probably Izenheim's stronghold. I might run into countless Izenheim just walking down the street.

[And, subspecies.]

My view on subspecies was firm.

[Subspecies may be impurities on the continent. But each race has traits too different to lump all of them together as one subspecies.]

I should not make all subspecies my enemies. Necessary exceptions had to remain.

[The Yaken in particular are like beasts of prey, but if you hold the leash and tame them, they can become Aran's most loyal hunting dogs....]

Scratch, scratch.

Lines filled the page. My sentences were crude.

I was only spilling out the thoughts in my head, but once I met a professional, it could all be polished in the direction I wanted.

Scratch.

[Izenheim.]

My hand paused for a moment on Izenheim, humanity's enemy.

Unfortunately, I could not write the truth that they were an otherworldly species destined to destroy the world.

If I did, I'd be treated like a madman.

So instead, I had to frame them in a logic of hatred that perfectly suited the Emperor and the Empire.

[Izenheim are base. They are the most dangerous parasites on this continent. They wear human form, but their essence touches emptiness and monstrosity.]

[Kasim, the ideological criminal who sowed chaos in Gennen and tried to burn the entire autonomous territory...]

I used real cases as examples and gave Izenheim the largest share of the text. These cases would only pile up with time.

[They pollute the purity of the continent, cannot be civilized, and compromise with them means self-destruction.]

"...Pollute purity."

I was impressed by the line I had written without thinking.

Izenheim were otherworldly, so they really were contaminating humanity's purity.

...

Kanillan's night could not even be compared to the Empire's. That independent state had a "real" night.

That phrase was so famous even among imperial nobles that I stepped out to relieve some stress. Autumn in Gigantes and winter in Gennen had both been full of headaches... I wanted to let go for once.

“Ah, of course. We happen to have a top-tier VVIP party tonight.”

I asked Russell if he could recommend a good party.

“It's a place only VVIPs with your level of wealth can enter. I'll send the invitation right away. What's your address?”

Russell gladly sent a VVIP invitation.

「Luminous Hall」

The building looked oddly twisted, like braided dough. The basement seemed to be a club, blasting strange music, and countless people were lined up at the entrance trying to get in.

"Hey, don't cut the line!"

"Hey! Are you not controlling this? Who the hell is that!"

I walked past them and held out my VVIP invitation to the guard. At that moment, the guard barked at the people shouting about line-cutting.

"Shut your mouth! Watch your tone!"

Then he turned to me with a bright smile.

"Please follow me."

So Kanillan truly was a capitalist place where status was money.

"Take this elevator. Enjoy your evening."

The rooftop reached through the VVIP-only elevator was

glamorous.

Thousands of mana stone chandeliers flowed across the ceiling like a galaxy, and the floor was transparent crystal. Men and women in casual clothes laughed with champagne glasses in their hands.

When a man and woman hit it off, they went into a room together. Some people gambled with cards, others danced on stage.

Pour. Liquor filled the glasses. Strange bubbles sometimes rose into the air.

Everyone enjoyed the party like that. As if tomorrow did not exist, or as if today would last forever.

"..."

It wasn't funny. I had no right to laugh at anything.

I too had once been soaked in pleasure like them, no, more than them.

But now, a heavier burden seemed to press down on my entire body.

The end of the world.

That fact only I knew, the fact no one in this world would believe...

"Hm? I feel like I've seen your face somewhere."

At that moment someone trudged up beside me. A wave of alcohol hit me.

I turned my head. Burning red hair. A solidly built woman in a leather jacket stood there. Holding a champagne glass, eyes slightly unfocused, she looked me over from top to bottom.

If it was her, she might recognize my disguised face with black hair and brown eyes. I was just wondering whether I should move.

"Oh, handsome, are you?"

Needless worry.

"...Nice to meet you."

"Mmm, you know me?"

"Yes. Commander Ren of the Akarius Mercenary Corps."

"Am I that famous?"

"I'm good at remembering faces."

With the virus, even if I wanted to forget a face I'd seen once, I couldn't.

"I see. What's your name?"

Her voice slurred with drink. She seemed to be in a very good mood these days. Well, her immediate returns were probably astronomical.

"Ebert."

I'd heard from Dieter. All contracts and revenue rights of the Akarius Mercenary Corps had been pledged as collateral to my bank.

From my side, that was unfortunate.

The losses were due to Ren's own greed, but before my regression, the Akarius Mercenary Corps itself had never been mortgaged.

"I run a small fund."

"Ebert... huh? Ebert?"

She didn't recognize my face, but she knew the name Ebert.

"I heard your name from Russell! Hey, this is great, really great. I wanted to meet you at least once."

Either way, we were entangled in a strangely interesting way.

"...Then I'm honored."

"Well, I heard you bet on Kanillan going down."

"Yes. Would you like to join me?"

At my words, she gave a short laugh and shook her head. As if instantly sobered, she straightened her back and scanned me with sharp eyes.

"But you really do look like a noble."

Her alcohol-soaked voice was corrected in an instant.

"Anyone can tell you're an imperial noble. Not some random nobody, either."

In truth, she was the same. Even when she tried to wear a rough, hardened front, traces of imperial noble grace leaked through in places. Her imperial pronunciation and manner of speech already gave it away.

But...

"Do I?"

I gave a bitter smile.

Her house had been exterminated by Sebestian.

And I was on the verge of ruining everything she had built with her own hands.

* * *

Meanwhile, Imperial District 42. Yukia visited Entikkan's orphanage.

"...It's changed a lot."

The floor that used to be freezing from lack of heating now held warmth. The stained ceiling, once ruined by leaks, had been cleanly repaired. The children's clothes were thicker, and above all, the smell of meat from the cafeteria was unfamiliar.

Entikkan looked at her and said the same.

"You've changed a lot too."

"..."

In the director's office, the two exchanged silent looks for a long time.

Entikkan was Eric's younger brother, and Yukia was Eric's daughter. They were family by blood, but warm conversation never came easily.

That was the way of the Yaken.

"Ahem. What did you come for?"

Entikkan asked with a forced cough.

"...Salary."

It was money she had saved without spending a single coin of the pay and bonuses she'd received from Maximilian.

"Use it for yourself. The children and I have enough now."

"Pointless. You know that."

Yukia replied flatly.

It was true. She ate breakfast and lunch at the Knights Order cafeteria, and ate dinner through meals delivered to her residence. A few suits for her secretary duties and sunglasses were enough clothing, and she slept in provided lodging.

"Then build the machines you like. Use your ability. Don't stay frozen in place."

"...Always nagging."

"Do you also speak informally to Sir Maximilian?"

"A little."

"Hah."

Entikkan clicked his tongue in disbelief. It sounded like another flood of nagging was about to begin. Before it could, Yukia lowered her ears and lowered her voice.

"He's strange."

"What do you mean?"

"He had a Yaken carving. A wooden necklace."

Yukia narrowed her brow, trying to recall the shape.

"I don't know whose it was, but..."

She had only seen it briefly, so she couldn't be certain, but it was definitely a familiar Yaken style, and even stranger than that was this.

"And... he said he had a debt to repay me."

At that instant, Entikkan's face hardened.

"..."

He silently bit his lower lip for a moment. He lowered his hand under the desk to hide its trembling.

Words Maximilian had once said to him flickered in his ears.

'Yaken always make things like this.'

'Do they ever give them as gifts?'

Gift...

Maximilian's sponsorship. The reason he kept Yukia close. His favor toward the Yaken. And Eric Tarik.

Those words linked on their own, and one possibility assembled itself in Entikkan's mind.

He thought for a long time, then finally dropped his head. A deep sigh escaped him.

"...As expected. So that was it."

His suspicion had already hardened into certainty.

"Yukia."

He looked straight into his niece's eyes.

"Do you still carry hatred in your heart?"

"...Going to nag again-"

"Not all nobles are the same. The ones who caused your father's death and the knight called Maximilian are different."

Yukia stood up as if she didn't want to hear it.

As she reached for the doorknob, Entikkan caught her.

"Yukia. Listen carefully."

His voice carried a weight it hadn't had before.

"The knight called Maximilian..."

He chose his words slowly, then spoke.

"It seems he holds special feelings for your father."

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