Suasong City Hall, Mayor's Office.
Having just finished my speech, I was packing my things. Not that there was much to pack. The important documents had already been incinerated or handed over to Hanna; what remained were only personal belongings.
Creeeak.
Just then, the door opened and a man entered. He was a formally appointed administrator dispatched from the capital.
"Colonel Jaeger. Are you ready to depart?"
He asked with an intentionally haughty air.
"As you can see, Administrator."
I gestured toward the desk with my chin.
"Here are the city keys, the safe combination, and the administrative ledgers."
The administrator glanced through the files with a suspicious look.
Flick, flick.
"……?"
His brow furrowed. The hand turning the pages grew faster.
Flick, flick, shhhk!
"Wh-what is this?"
"Exactly what it looks like."
"Fiscal surplus? One hundred percent supply rate? Zero unresolved petitions? Public security status... 'Very Good'?"
His eyes grew wider and wider.
"Y-you even secured reserve funds? Without any looting or requisitioning?"
"Let's call it efficient resource reallocation."
I pointed toward the window with my chin.
"Look outside, Administrator. Do you see smoke rising? Do you see protestors?"
He turned his head as if entranced. Beyond the window, citizens doffed their hats and bowed as Imperial Army trucks passed by, and the marketplace was bustling with activity.
Far from the cruelty typical of occupied territories, it was a scene more peaceful than the outer districts of the capital itself.
"Im... possible..."
His hands trembled.
"A thirty-year veteran administrator couldn't pull this off. And you're telling me a soldier did this in just one month?"
"A city is like a massive machine. Just oil it properly, and it runs on its own."
I stood up from my seat and fastened my uniform buttons.
"I've finished oiling it. You need only grab the steering wheel, Administrator."
"W-wait! Colonel Jaeger! What on earth are these 'Miscellaneous Income' entries...!"
"That's for you to figure out, Administrator. I'm leaving now."
I picked up my bag, leaving him frozen in shock.
"Let's go, Hanna."
I left the office without a backward glance. Behind me, I could hear the administrator groaning as he clutched the ledgers.
"Haa... hah... It's perfect... There's nothing to fault... How... how is this possible?"
Ding—
[You have successfully completed the Acting Garrison Commander assignment.]
[A massive amount of EXP is awarded as compensation.]
I gazed at the system window, smiling secretly to myself.
Along with the conclusion of the Garrison Commander post.
[You have formed a strong dependency through your first sexual relationship with 'Frederica von Kessel'.]
[You have acquired a large amount of EXP as a reward.]
Adding the EXP I obtained from Frederica yesterday...
[Level has risen from 21 to 22!]
[Held Skill Points: 1]
I had reached level 22.
*
The square in front of City Hall.
The Jaeger Combat Battalion was lined up in formation. Led by Major Frederica's No. 101 tank, the armored column and infantry trucks rumbled their engines.
"Colonel, departure preparations are complete."
Hanna reported.
"Good. Let's go."
Kugugugugu—
The lead tank's treads rattled the asphalt. Behind it, the armored battalion's tanks and infantry trucks stretched out in a long line.
The citizens in the streets watched us with complicated expressions—relief, regret, and a strange mixture of awe toward the conquerors.
That was when it happened.
Someone broke through the crowd and dashed onto the road.
"Stop!"
The military police tried to raise their rifles, but I lifted my hand to stop them.
"Lower your weapons."
It was a small-statured girl who had rushed out.
A young blonde girl in a school uniform. Her white blouse and checkered skirt fluttered in the wind.
It was Marie Bernard.
She ran up to my vehicle, panting for breath. In her arms was a large bouquet hastily woven from wildflowers.
"Miss Bernard?"
When I signaled for the car to stop, the driver gently pressed the brake.
Marie looked up at me with a flushed face. Her eyes glistened.
'Status Analysis.'
[Name: Marie Bernard]
[Status: Regret over parting, admiration, affection]
[Emotion: Wants to remember you forever.]
"Please... take this!"
Marie stood on tiptoe and held out the bouquet.
"Thank you... for saving us. And for protecting Father... thank you so much!"
A crude yet fresh floral scent punched through the acrid exhaust fumes.
I looked down at the bouquet for a moment, then opened the car door and stepped out. And I took the flowers courteously with both hands.
"Thank you, young lady. It's the most beautiful gift I've received in Suasong."
"H-hic..."
Marie's eyes welled up with overwhelming emotion. After hesitating, she worked up the courage to gently grasp my sleeve.
"You... you'll come back, won't you?"
"Perhaps. Only God knows where a soldier's footsteps may take him."
I lightly patted her head.
"But I shan't forget this scent of flowers."
"...Yes!"
Marie nodded with a reddened face. Unrealistically pure, like a scene from a film.
Click, click!
From somewhere came the sound of camera shutters. The embedded war correspondents couldn't miss this picture-perfect scene.
I smiled inwardly and placed the bouquet prominently by the front windshield.
"Move out."
The column began to move again.
Marie waved her hand until we disappeared from sight.
As the car pulled away, Erika in the back seat crossed her arms and grumbled.
"Hmph, quite the movie star, aren't we. Wagging your tail at a little girl, of all things."
"It's not wagging my tail, it's winning hearts, Captain Erika. That all becomes our battalion's reputation."
"Who doesn't know that? It's just... annoying, that's all."
Erika pouted, though she kept stealing glances at the bouquet stuck in the windshield.
"...The flowers are pretty."
I snickered and sank deep into my seat. In the rearview mirror, the scenery of Suasong grew distant.
The vehicle soon left Suasong proper and transitioned onto a jarring unpaved road.
From my breast pocket, I pulled out a leather-bound ledger. On the surface, it looked like an ordinary business journal, but its contents held the secret cash flow of the 'real' Suasong.
[Gaston Trading House 'Special Donation': 5,000 gold coins]
[Republican Army Slush Fund (Ledger Manipulation): 2,000 gold coins]
[Misc. (Disposal of Confiscated Goods): 4,500 silver coins]
[Total]: Equivalent to 7,450 Imperial gold coins
This was the money I had skimmed over the month I'd stayed in Suasong.
7,450 gold coins.
Considering one Imperial gold coin was roughly one million won and one silver coin about one hundred thousand won, it was a staggering sum of approximately 7.45 billion won.
An impossible amount for a field-grade officer to accumulate in a lifetime of doing nothing but breathing. Enough to purchase an entire three-story commercial building in the most coveted district of Eisenburg, the Imperial capital.
I could still picture that pig Gaston's hands trembling as he offered the bribe.
"C-Commander! I will release all the flour stock. So please, I beg you...!"
"Mr. Gaston. The flour is a given. The separate matter is the surcharge for the illicit profits you monopolized through exclusive supply contracts to the Republican Army, is it not?"
At my words, he had trembled like an aspen and fetched a box of gold coins hidden deep in his warehouse. Rather than throwing him in jail, I simply accepted his 'donation'.
The Republican Army's slush fund was the same.
The coordinates obtained from Antoine contained not only weapons but also a safe of war chests the enemy had tried to abscond with. Instead of reporting it to superiors and receiving a few words of praise, I manipulated the ledgers to list it as 'lost in combat' and pocketed it.
'War is business, they say. Not a wrong word.'
Since I held the leash of Suasong's prominent figures—Gaston, Jean Bernard, Pierre—Suasong would remain my personal vault and reliable backing even after the war ended and I was discharged.
Of course, if those pigheaded military police or mainland administrators had known, they would have foamed at the mouth. They might have demanded to know why I hadn't thrown such a corrupt merchant in jail, and instead accepted bribes to collude with him.
But this had been the best course of action. A necessary evil, if you will. For example, if I locked up Gaston, who controlled Suasong's logistics, justice might have been served, but by tomorrow morning the bread ration would have ceased and the citizens would have rioted.
I held the bastard's leash and made him cough up the blood money he'd earned from the wartime windfall. He kept his life and business rights, and I stabilized the city while lining my pockets.
Couldn't I consider that a fair commission? I assessed myself as such and picked up an 'Imperial Daily' that had been rolling around in the corner of the seat. Below the front-page headline, my photo with an intentionally solemn expression accompanied a string of nauseating praise.
"...When the Republic's generals, starved for blood, abandoned the citizens and fled, the Empire's young hero set down his rifle and hoisted sacks of flour. The citizens of Suasong testified with tears: what he brought was not the terror of an occupying army, but warm salvation like the smell of freshly baked bread...."
Ha. I curled my lip.
All I had done was grab someone by the throat, extort bribes, and scatter a few crumbs of bread to maintain control. And the world called it 'merciful rule'.
Propaganda truly is a sweet thing.
'Good.'
Full pockets, solid backing, and even a level-up.
It was an overflowing harvest for what amounted to a month's vacation. I crumpled the newspaper and gazed out at the scenery flashing past the window.
*
The capital of the United Kingdom of Victoria, Londinium.
Royal Intelligence Bureau Headquarters, Deep Conference Room.
Beyond the window, Londinium's characteristic dreary drizzle fell. The sound of raindrops striking the glass filled the heavy silence.
Beneath the dim lighting, only three figures sat around a mahogany round table.
At the head sat a woman with her legs crossed.
Sidney Wellesley, the Royal Intelligence Bureau's director and holder of real power. She set down her magnifying glass and placed a cigarette between her lips.
"...The statistics are lying."
She muttered. Before her stood Colonel Sterling in rigid posture.
"Explain, Sterling. A single composite combat battalion penetrated the flank of the Republican Army's 2nd Legion without even a proper supply line. Calculating the consumed fuel and ammunition, they should have ground to a halt before ever reaching Suasong."
"Th-they... the report states they utilized extreme local procurement and captured supplies."
"Bullshit."
Wellesley threw the documents onto the table.
"Captured ammunition is a different caliber, and the fuel's refinement is crude. For a forty-ton Imperial tank to run on that at such speed is a blasphemy against physics. This is beyond explanation by luck or resourcefulness."
She tapped the photo of Max Jaeger with her fingernail.
"This Max Jaeger fellow... he's no ordinary man. To open up a previously nonexistent supply route locally on the fly... it's nothing short of genius."
The essence of war is logistics. Director Wellesley understood that essence to the core.
"I understand Admiral William's judgment. A dangerous man like this must be nipped in the bud as soon as possible. For the United Kingdom, and for Her Majesty the Queen."
Wellesley turned to the man sitting in the shadows.
"Are you ready, Arthur?"
From the darkness, Major Arthur revealed himself. He was an expert in the United Kingdom's proud black ops.
"Just give the order, Director. I shall personally uncover that man's true nature."