I Became the Commander in a Trash Game Who Copies Skills

Chapter 49. 1,200

Since the advent of SNS algorithms, many trends have often invaded an individual's area of interest.

Although I wasn't very interested in business or investment, free lecture content on money, business, and marketing had popped up for me several times.

I had listened to a few of the free portions of these types of lectures, which people with a jaundiced eye dismissed as 'success-peddling'.

It wasn't that I was trying to start a business.

At that time, being crazy about games, I was just hoping to get some inspiration that would be helpful for managing a mercenary band or a territory in the game.

Naturally, most of the lecture content was like reading scriptures to a deaf ear.

Still, there was one story that stuck in my mind.

It was from a famous self-made rich man abroad who had built his wealth through books and real estate investment.

When investing, use leverage.

Good debt is an asset.

[Dwarven Federation Bank Certified Check]

[Issuer: Gabir Maraz]

[1,000 Florins in gold]

“…Wow.”

Karen’s eyes went wide as she stared at the check.

It was the same reaction old Brol had shown exactly an hour ago.

“A thousand… a thousand Florins? A thousand?”

He muttered, waving his hands in the air.

Looking at his form, it seemed he was trying to gauge the size of a box, a gold coin box that is.

It seemed that a thousand gold coins was not a familiar unit for a mercenary.

Although, come to think of it, I had received a chest containing two hundred and fifty gold coins from Viscount Pewin before.

What can I say.

A check has power.

“Half is the down payment for the official employment, and the other half is for the salaries of the members to be paid in the future.”

In the words of the rich man whose name I couldn't remember, it was 'good debt'.

If nothing else, the method of taking risks was something I agreed with.

In this game too, there were times when you had to take risks and expand your forces.

The opportunity for a mercenary company to grow tenfold overnight was a stroke of luck that rarely came by.

Of course, there was something to be addressed before that.

“Olif.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“No matter how much I think about it, I don’t understand. The reason why there are so many applicants.”

I’ve played as a mercenary band thousands of times.

The big data on member recruitment was already formulated in my head.

The fame gained from the Battle of Wolfskrig.

The troops remaining in the fortress after the war ended.

The number of applicants during the initial recruitment.

When all that was calculated, the total number of applicants should have been less than half of what it was now.

‘Normally five or six hundred.

At most, seven or eight hundred.

While I was away, a third of them should have dropped out.’

The calculation was off, and excessively so.

There was a variable I didn't know about.

***

“Well, this may sound like an excuse, but I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to say anything. I really did wrong. I’m serious.”

Why had so many people gathered?

The answer and the culprit were right next to me.

“Well, you know, since you’re an honorary holy knight, Commander. You were away for longer than I thought, so I just thought maybe they’d have some news.”

“…….”

“That Pepe fellow said he didn't know much. So I thought maybe Sir Andarin would know….”

Before leaving Wolfskrig.

I had only told Olif that I had undertaken a secret mission for the church.

Because it was a secret mission in the first place.

And since my goal was to snatch Kashutal’s Amulet, it was better to have as few people as possible know about the mission.

Therefore, I had only told the two platoon leaders that I had some business to attend to regarding the church.

The incident happened a week ago, when old Brol, unable to contain his curiosity, had a ‘drink’ with Andarin.

He had blabbed everything to old Brol, a fact that only some of the holy knights within the church knew, and the excited old man had spread the rumors about me all over Wolfskrig.

And in a very distorted way at that.

That I had detected and warned of the great beastman army faster than anyone else.

That I had annihilated a thousand Horned Ones with a single spell.

That I had single-handedly killed the Beastpriest of the Full Moon, Rishubak.

And that I was the hero who protected Gunterburk after confronting the Princess of Blood.

“…Haah.”

I pressed my hand to my warming forehead.

It was too late to turn back now.

I couldn’t just put up a notice on the mercenary guild’s bulletin board saying, ‘Ta-da, you all know this is a lie, right?’.

Since it wasn't a completely fabricated story, it wasn't at a level where I had to worry about the backlash that would come when the facts were revealed to be different later.

However, what was questionable was the source of the information.

Old Brol said it was Andarin.

This fellow, though he had a loose tongue, was not the type to lie.

Then did Andarin really tell him?

“Well, unlike Sir Pepe, he doesn’t like to drink that much. But the food at that place is delicious. The fried freshwater fish and stew are to die for.”

What was important was that Andarin told him.

Leaving aside the fellow named Pepe, whom I had only seen once during a reconnaissance mission, Andarin was a holy knight I knew well.

He was a holy knight who had considerable prestige in the church and was an influential figure with ties to Viscount Pewin.

He was not a man who would carelessly divulge secrets just anywhere.

I had to get this straight while I was at it.

“Brol.”

“I’m sorry. Really…”

“I’m not trying to scold you. Ask him if he's hiding anything from me.”

“Uh, huh? What do you mean? Me to the Commander?”

“Yes.”

It didn’t make sense, common-sensically.

Making him spill the beans about the secret mission.

And when he had dug up the news of the civil war before.

And how he had grasped the atmosphere of the mercenary band faster than anyone.

And how he had acted as a human megaphone, boosting the recruitment rate every time we recruited members.

To say it was just because he was friendly seemed a bit much.

I needed to get to the bottom of this.

“Well, uh, are you hiding something? If there’s something you want to get off your chest, you can tell me. I’ll keep my lips sealed from now on.”

A timidly muttered voice.

What can I say.

Seeing him cowering with his bandit beard, I didn’t know what I had been so wary of.

It was a world where people lived, after all.

Everyone lived differently, what was so special?

Whether a necromancer, a summoner, or someone from another world, they were all just people in the end.

It was okay to just talk about that kind of stuff openly….

“…bullshit.”

[[Lord’s Unyielding Mind] is activated.]

A notification window popped up and my mind cleared.

I almost spoke as if it were a matter of course.

My biggest secret that I couldn't reveal to anyone.

It was certain.

The ability old Brol had, it was a considerable level of a psychological manipulation trait.

The fact that [Lord’s Unyielding Mind] had activated meant that that ability had directly affected my mind.

I drank a glass of cold water on the table and collected myself.

Perhaps my gaze was fierce, as old Brol waved his hands with a flustered expression.

“S-sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

Let's search my memory.

Was there such a trait in the game?

There wasn't.

At least not up to 3.0.

“Commander, I’ll drink less and live diligently. Just please don’t issue a prohibition order…”

It was absurd, but.

It seemed this old man might be a named character who appeared after the update.

With a strange trait name like [Drunken Information Broker] or something.

“Brol.”

“Yes, yes.”

“It’s good to drink, and it’s good to find out new things.”

The result was good this time.

And thankfully, there had been no trouble so far.

However, things had to be different from now on.

If I used this well, I might be able to create the best intelligence agency in the Empire.

“From now on, if you think something is important information, let's get my permission before you say anything. Got it?”

“R-really? Alright! You can count on me!”

“And from now on, write a report every day.”

“A report…?”

“……?”

“…Well, I barely know how to write.”

“How did you read the resume last time?”

“A few words I knew, and for the rest, I just guessed the meaning…. I’ve never written before.”

“…….”

What kind of person was this?

***

I entrusted the role of Brol's writing teacher to Bart.

I wondered if it was right for an elite who had graduated from the Imperial University and even graduated second in his class early to be teaching the alphabet, but…

There was no other suitable person.

Although the illiteracy rate was low because the Imperial language was an easy language, the act of writing itself was an advanced skill.

Just like in the old medieval times, English and the alphabet were relatively easy languages, but not everyone was Shakespeare.

For security reasons, it was also necessary to choose from the existing executive staff.

Because while teaching Brol to write, I might learn confidential information like this time.

Olif was excluded from the beginning because of his terrible handwriting.

I had also recently confirmed that Karen was not much of a writer either.

Then the only one left was Bart.

By the way, I was a little surprised.

“The first page is categorized by aptitude, and the second page is re-categorized by their desired branch.”

This friend.

He wrote reports astonishingly well.

“From here are summaries of the resumes of applicants with notable careers. Only matters that have been thoroughly verified have been recorded.”

Even a neat and sharp summary.

In fact, when I heard that there were 1,500 applicants, the first thing that came to mind wasn't the salary issue, but the resumes.

Because with 1,500 resumes, it would take several days just to skim through them.

In fact, there were several towers of paper piled up on my office desk.

Bart had compressed those towers into a ten-page report.

And even into just two pages, excluding the special cases.

Recruiting Bart was a stroke of genius.

No, Bart was a god.

“I didn’t know what format you would prefer, Commander, so I re-organized it in a table format over here…. Would it perhaps be difficult to read?”

But this table.

It was overly familiar.

Rows and columns made easy to distinguish with shading using graphite shavings on a wide rectangular table.

Letters written with slightly different sizes and thicknesses depending on their importance.

It was as if Excel, which I used to see on a monitor, had been optimized for a medieval version.

“Bart, by any chance, do you have memories of a past life?”

“…Excuse me?”

“Never mind. You must just be a genius. From now on, actively use this table format.”

“Ahaha…. Thank you.”

Watching him scratch the back of his head shyly, I thought.

If nothing else, I would never hand this guy over to anyone.

Anyway, thanks to the performance of the administrative officer, the organization was smoothly reorganized.

The troop limit and budget secured by Archduke Gabir.

After several days of deliberation and meetings, we were able to come to a conclusion on the most appropriate way to use them.

The newly reorganized structure of the Ash Mercenary Band was as follows.

The 1st Company, commanded by the veteran commander, old Brol.

Six spearman units.

Six swordsman units.

A total of 480 men.

The 2nd Company, led by the ranger-born Karen.

Six crossbow units.

Three archer units.

Three rifle units.

One ranger-born scout unit.

A total of 375 men.

The 3rd Company, led by the former Black Helm Mercenary Commander and newly appointed Company Commander Damas.

Four halberd units.

Two greatsword units.

A total of 240 men.

The 4th Company, commanded by the high-ranking knight Olif.

Two light cavalry units.

Sixteen knights.

A total of 86 men.

And under my direct command,

Nine magicians.

Six combat priests.

Four holy knights.

A total of 19 men.

A total of 1,200 men.

The number of soldiers who had defended Burken Fortress, where I first opened my eyes in this world.

A force comparable to the entire garrison of a fortress defending the frontiers of the Empire against the threat of the Vampire Archduchy.

Came under my command.