NOVEL WEB Chapter 11
11.
The bald man flew in a parabolic trajectory and crashed into the wall, bowing his head. Silence filled the room.
The warm, sticky sensation at my fingertips. As I wiped the blood lightly with a handkerchief from my bosom, an impudent-looking fellow sprang forward.
“Crazy bastard! Do you even know where you are…and…?”
The voice of the impudent fellow, who had started yelling with great momentum, gradually faded away.
His gaze slowly dropped down, and upon seeing the crest on my collar and the sword hanging at my waist, his shaken gaze revealed his nervousness. He began to speak in a subdued manner.
“Lord Noble, why have you come here…?”
The pale complexion of the now cowering impudent fellow seemed to glow with a faint red light, much like the bald man’s.
Judging from the scattered bottles of alcohol and the faint aroma in the air, it seemed they had been drinking for quite a while. To see such behaviour in the middle of the day—this must not be their first time.
I stroked my chin as I looked at the impudent fellow, then a highly excited voice came from behind me.
“Tred! This is a senior clerk from the Administrative Office!”
“S-senior clerk?”
At Martin’s shout, Tred’s body trembled.
“To the glory of the Empire…”
I raised my hand, and the young man’s voice ceased. He tensefully watched my hand, upon which I lightly placed it on his shoulder.
“His Majesty resides in the Imperial Palace, and you’re indulging yourselves extravagantly in the middle of the day. One of you is drunk beyond comprehension. The other reeks of alcohol so strongly it burns the nose.”
Thud. Thud.
“Isn’t this supposed to be a local administrative office rather than a tavern? Am I mistaken?”
“No, no, no sire!”
With every slight tap on his shoulder, Tred’s body swayed.
As I pressed against him, murmuring noises came from behind me. Glancing back, I saw Martin and the junior officials gathered together, murmuring quietly, with expressions of relief.
They seemed to be watching, trying to figure out what just happened.
To quickly wind things up, I turned back to Tred, only to spot the bald man, who had collapsed in the corner, now rising.
“Ugh… What the hell…?”
The bald man stood up unsteadily, his face returning to normal as the alcohol apparently wore off. However, instead of the intoxication, his nose was now bleeding.
“Blood? Blood?”
The bald man harshly wiped the blood streaming down his nose and caught sight of me as he glanced around.
“You damn dog!”
The fat man, his swollen face distorted in anger, began to stride forward but then stopped.
He now eyed the insignia on my collar and my clothing. Lowering his gaze, the bald man cautiously said,
“To whom do you belong to interfere with an official in such a manner? Even though you are a noble lord, this is the Imperial Palace.”
“I’ve come here for official business. I am Baron Macbillian.”
The bald man continued to wipe the blood off his nose, still looking down.
“You’re correct; this is the Imperial Palace. But for someone who’s drunk in the middle of the day, you seem oddly confident. Do you seek your death?”
“Th-that…”
The bald man’s color visibly paled, and as he rolled his eyes, cold sweat trickled down. Suddenly, his eyes widened as he muttered,
“Baron…?”
The bald man scrutinized the title before glaring fiercely at me.
‘This peasant has guts to challenge me despite knowing I’m a noble. Quite bold for this era, huh. Indeed, central and frontier areas differ.’
The bald man straightened his previously cowered shoulders and spoke with some measure of confidence.
“I’m connected with the influential individuals from the Eastern faction. They will take notice of your disrespect!”
Thinking he might have some hidden trump card, he was basing his defiance on his connections with a noble of Lucanov, right?
‘No, that’s unlikely.’
If he had any connection to a duke, he wouldn’t be occupying a minor position like the head of the Southern Administrative Office.
He probably knows someone within the Eastern faction of the noble circle. However, even if there were connections to the Eastern faction, it didn’t matter to me.
“Administrative office chief, I’m not particularly interested whether you’re connected with Eastern nobles or not. You still seem a bit tipsy, so let me help.”
With a well-calculated punch, I struck the bald man’s face again.
“Kheh!”
I effortlessly hit the man’s face.
“Wow…”
“Did you see that? The chief’s face got wrecked.”
“Didn’t see it. I blinked, and it was already over.”
As the junior officials murmured quietly behind me, my gaze shifted to Tred, who had been standing quietly.
Meeting his eyes, I spoke to the young man, whose complexion turned pale and who began to back away.
“Is your name Tred? Begin cleaning immediately.”
“Yes! Understood! I shall make it as clean as a newly constructed building!”
*
After ordering Tred to clean the chief’s room, I instructed Martin to bring me a condensed summary of the business.
I presumed it would take a day or two due to the considerable amount; yet, the lower officials, led by Martin, enthusiastically organized the documents in no time.
As I examined the documents with Martin, we were interrupted.
“What is all of this?”
Though the central government office has more work compared to others, it’s not so much that the administration grinds to a halt. It was set up specifically to prevent such overwhelming piles of work.
However, the 3rd Administrative Office handled more than they could chew.
“Why is the 3rd Office handling other departments’ work, Clerk Martin?”
“Actually…”
Martin’s account did not significantly deviate from my expectations.
He explained that other offices had been colluding with their chiefs to funnel work to this office.
Naturally, the bald chief was more than happy to go along with this, allowing his staff to do all the work while his own performance evaluations continued to climb.
The junior officials at the 3rd Office wanted to protest, but the bald chief and other department heads’ clout intimidated them.
“What’s this? These numbers aren’t correct at all—they’re complete gibberish!”
The documents tossed from other offices were largely incomprehensible, forcing the 3rd Office to rework everything from scratch. This doubled their workload.
This structure made it inevitable for work to continuously back up and accumulate.
“Alright, Clerk Martin, separate all these accumulated documents into their original departments immediately.”
“By department?”
“Yes. Once everything is sorted, pick four of you to bring the documents outside.”
He raised his head in confusion as I gave his shoulder a light tap, then walked out.
What could I possibly achieve within a week acting as a 2nd-grade clerk in the Inner Palace?
Truthfully, the system for running the nation operates fairly efficiently. It was hardly the case that a parachuted newcomer alone could accomplish major feats within such a week. After all, the system itself wasn’t that easily manipulated nor was there a specific need for it to be.
This is where the situation suited me well.
The heart of the Southern Administrative Department, under the control of the office chiefs, was probably suffering from arteriosclerosis.
Now was the time to resolve this entangled predicament. The method was straightforward:
‘Throwing the excessive workload from the 3rd Office back at them.’
Pummeling the insolent slackers into submission would greatly boost efficiency. With improvements so visible, the evaluators would most certainly notice.
‘Remove the superfluous and allocate tasks appropriately.’
Work must be done as efficiently as possible.
If not, overtime work would result, and overtime work is as good as death.
‘Simply thinking about it makes me shudder.’
While loosening my wrist in preparation for the next task,
Martin, now finished with the cleanup, emerged with a precarious tower of records in his arms, flanked by the junior officials.
“Clerk! Done organizing!”
Martin’s voice was brimming with enthusiasm, his features bright, despite the sweat pouring down his face, showing none of the earlier melancholy that had surrounded him on our first meeting.
“Alright. Everyone, be careful not to drop any documents on the way. Let’s move.”
“Yes! Everyone, make sure everything is properly bound. If we drop them, it’s a catastrophe, so be careful!”
At Martin’s energized shout, the junior officials responded with vigor.
Having no idea of the way to the Inner Palace, I instructed Martin to lead the way.
Marching confidently with the junior officials in tow, Martin turned to me after a short while.
“Uh, Sir Clerk…”
Martin, wiping sweat down his face, asked,
“Where are we going?”
With a sly grin, I responded,
“To the 2nd Administrative Office first. Everyone, prepare to throw the documents inside.”
Thus, with the cheers of Martin and the junior officials, I began to stir up the Southern Administrative Department.
***
The vast audience chamber of the Southern Administrative Bureau.
Baron Milled Hoswynd looked down at the neatly arranged documents on his desk.
“Hmm…”
Beautiful handwriting detailed the current tax situation in the southern region and the tributary goods record of the vassal states.
Moreover, there were reports on the development of the Grand Forest of the South and the distribution plan for relief rations.
All documents were well-organized and lacked any loopholes. These were administrative documents consolidated from subordinate departments.
They were rare finds in the Southern Bureau, where the reports previously handled only the minimal requirements and were a chaotic mess.
Even the arrival of one such document was surprising enough, but today, many originated from the 3rd Administrative Office.
Milled’s expression gradually became complex as he reviewed each document, one by one.
“Did we prepare these ourselves?”
Under normal circumstances, the administrative bureau staff suffered greatly from the disorderly reports and were expected to rework them. But these were impeccable, easily warranting approval.
“Perhaps the 3rd Office hides some talented individuals? I should bring them to the Bureau next time.”
With a flourish, Milled quickly began drafting.
After quite some time of battling with the documents, a knock on the door resonated through his chamber.
“Lord Ressa, may I come in?”
The door burst open violently as the middle-aged noble, Baron Ressa, stormed in with a twisted expression.
“Baron Hoswynd! Are you aware of what’s happening at the lower departments?”
Baron Ressa’s usual pretentiousness was absent as he yelled, causing Milled to frown.
“Baron Ressa. While I may not belong to the Eastern faction, I serve as the registrar of the Inner Palace and the head of the Southern Department here. If you continue your rudeness, I may have no choice but to converse with your sword.”
Despite Milled’s irritated response, Baron Ressa spoke again.
“I apologize for my rudeness. But that isn’t the issue here! Concerning the Imperial Document Candidate. About that fellow who arrived in the South this time!”
“The candidate for what?”
Milled questioned with a look of puzzlement.
Lord Ressa slammed his hands on the desk.
“Are you aware of what that guy from the frontier is up to? He’s wandering around the lower offices and causing all sorts of mischief!”
Exasperated, Milled sighed deeply.
“Is this commotion about that trivial matter?”
“Trivial?! He’s hitting even the people aligned with the Eastern faction! The officer Lamkam I brought from office 3 has his face battered into a bloody mess!”
‘Hence why the processing speed at the lower offices has improved so recently, I see. Truly.’
Reports that initially would’ve taken at least two weeks to a month to process were now being submitted within a week or so. Apparently, the Imperial Document Candidate assigned here had reined in those who’d been lazing under the protection of various factions.
After listening to Ressa’s rant with detached indifference, Milled spoke.
“So why are you making such a fuss about this? Didn’t you receive the information that the candidate was to perform this task?”
“Certain limits must exist! I cannot tolerate this unruly conduct any longer! You must halt the candidate’s authority and disqualify him!”
So that was his intention.
To Baron Ressa’s near-commanding demand, Milled allowed a faint smile to grace his lips.
“I cannot comply with that. Moreover, I warned you not to continue your discourtesy.”
“That, that…”
As Milled stood up from his chair, sword in hand, Baron Ressa took a step back.
“Lord Ressa, allow me one piece of advice.”
The trembling Ressa, now gripping his sword, opened his mouth in shock at the truth Milled revealed.
“Behind the candidate stands Sir Alberto. Do not interfere.”
Simultaneously, the glove that Milled threw hit Baron Ressa’s cheek.