NOVEL NEXT Chapter 10
The eastern compound of the Altain Imperial Palace, the Inner Palace, is a place where bureaucrats responsible for the administration and finances of the empire gather.
The Inner Palace was also an organization that recruited not just nobles but commoners as well, through academies or qualifying examinations.
Just stepping into it meant entering one of the empire’s central seats of power, and thus the faces of commoner-born lower-ranking bureaucrats attached to the Inner Palace often reflected pride and confidence.
To such an extent that being a bureaucrat of the Inner Palace was considered one of the highest paths of advancement.
It was undoubtedly an enviable job and environment for anyone in the empire. However, one young man’s face was etched with fatigue and tension.
“I don’t want to go in…”
Martin, a commoner who had been appointed as a junior scribe of the Inner Palace, glanced at the inscription on the building’s entrance.
[South Region Third Management Support Office]
One of several subordinate departments aiding the higher-level Southern Administrative Management Bureau that manages the southern territories of the empire.
Martin closed his eyes tightly as he looked at the department name that had once been a source of his confidence less than six months ago.
‘Damn Superintendent Lacam. That idiot Tred.’
Martin, silently cursing everything he could in his mind, took a deep breath and entered the building.
The scratching of quill pens and the creak of wooden floors greeted him as he crossed through a silent space devoid of human conversation.
The pitiful looks from other scribes buried under piles of papers at their desks followed Martin as he stopped in front of a tightly shut small door.
“So, what did that guy say…?”
“Hahaha!”
Unlike the quiet outside filled with nothing but the sound of quill pens, it was chaotic inside the office. The office of Superintendent Lacam of the Third Management Support Office. Martin involuntarily clenched his fists.
‘There they go fooling around again.’
Martin felt frustration welling up inside him. To calm his racing heart, he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the familiar scent of ink, paper, and wood.
The calming familiar smell helped settle his nerves. Composed, Martin knocked on the door.
“Junior Scribe Martin!”
“Come in!”
Martin cautiously opened the door to find the Superintendent’s office. Instead of being filled with papers and books, the desk was loaded with alcohol and food. A bald man and another slightly sinister-looking one were looking at him, their faces flushed.
The smell of food and alcohol filled the room. Somehow managing to suppress his instinctive grimace, Martin was addressed by Superintendent Lacam, the bald man.
“Junior Martin. You sure came quick. What about the task I assigned?”
With the familiar and rude tone Lacam used, Martin carefully answered.
“The Second Superintendent will be visiting soon. And… the maids and servants said there’s no alcohol left.”
“No alcohol? This guy can’t get anything right. If it’s not there, that’s all, isn’t it?”
Lacam, frowning deeply, picked up a piece of meat from the plate. After carefully scraping off the meat stuck to the bone and taking a bite, Lacam continued.
“Then…what did Miss Urey say? How about tomorrow’s dinner?”
Martin sighed inwardly before replying.
“…Dismiss me, she’s not interested, she said.”
Silence filled the room.
After contemplating Martin’s words, Lacam’s face turned even redder than the alcohol could make it.
SWISH! THUD!
“Useless hick kid. Get out!”
“…Excuse me.”
Martin picked up the bone that had fallen onto his pants and quickly left Lacam’s office.
As the door closed behind Martin, the noisy laughter of Lacam and Tred seeped through.
Turning away from the two discussing trivial things with a sneer regarding Martin’s humble origins and making distasteful jokes about maid Urey, Martin walked away.
Martin gave a wry smile to the fellow scribes who silently tried to offer him comfort, carelessly handled the bone Lacam had thrown, and returned to his desk.
The towering piles of documents on the desk stood taller than others’, a result of Martin having to handle Lacam’s menial tasks, thereby falling behind on his own work.
With an overwhelming workload pressing down on him, Martin grabbed his head.
“Haa…”
Superintendent Lacam.
When Lacam, previously stationed in the Eastern Management Support Office, was suddenly assigned as the superintendent here, Martin didn’t give it much thought.
It felt like a common transfer, and Martin resolved to continue doing his best.
But after Lacam took charge as superintendent, Martin’s life changed completely.
The reason was minor – Maid Urey.
After Lacam witnessed Martin having an amicable conversation with her, the harassment began.
There were times Martin’s frustration boiled over, and he nearly lunged at Lacam, but the fire in Martin’s heart quickly died down.
There were rumors that Lacam had strong ties with a noble from the Eastern faction.
Although no one knew exactly which noble, the fact that Lacam went from being a rank-and-file official to superintendent suggested these rumors were not baseless.
With no influential connections of his own, Martin could do nothing but suppress his anger day by day.
To add insult to injury, for reasons unclear, both the First and Second Departments, which somehow had ties to Lacam, started dumping all their work onto the Third Management Support Office.
Martin struggled on for six months under the relentless workload and harassment from Lacam, only his thoughts of his family in the remote regions kept him going.
The bright spark in Martin’s heart gradually dimmed.
“I might quit…”
Thinking this while staring at the clumps of hair in his hand, Martin sighed. At that moment, a dull sound echoed throughout the office.
BOOM. BOOM.
The forceful knocking drew the attention of Martin and other junior bureaucrats.
With a loud BANG, the door of the support office opened.
A giant figure emerged from the pouring light at the entrance.
“Sorry for the intrusion.”
The giant had a slightly furrowed brow, seemingly full of complaints. Yet, since his expression didn’t change despite observing his surroundings, it seemed he naturally had that look.
Judging by the ornate attire unique to the empire and the sword at his waist, he was undoubtedly a noble. His towering stature and imposing build even exuded a strange sense of pressure. Was this how a knight dressed in casual clothing looked?
The stern gaze of the giant met the eyes of Martin and the other bureaucrats, causing them to involuntarily flinch.
—
Having arrived at the South Region’s Third Management Support Office under the guidance of Grem Wideborn.
The delay caused by getting lost meant I immediately entered without ado.
‘It’s quiet.’
My first impression upon entering was the stillness.
The departments established in the Inner Palace were primarily organizations handling the affairs of the state. I had expected it to be as tumultuous as a battlefield, so it was rather different from what I had expected.
As I absorbed the unique scent of paper, wood, and ink while observing my surroundings, the junior bureaucrats buried under piles of paper tried to avoid my gaze.
‘The usual reaction from people I meet for the first time.’
As my gaze briefly locked with a man who was clutching his hair in thought, Grem entered behind me.
“The atmosphere of the South Bureau has changed a lot. Even the paper piles. The scribes here sure are passionate.”
Grem’s eyes swept across the support office, clearly interested.
I had heard on the way that Grem belonged to the Eastern Administrative Management Bureau under the Inner Palace.
Even though the Eastern Bureau should be busier, his kindness in guiding the way was much appreciated. It’s time to exchange greetings briefly and send him off. I have work to attend to.
“Thank you for the guidance, Lord Wideborn.”
“Think nothing of it. Consider it as an early debt owed towards the next chancellor. I wish you good fortune.”
The courteous baron briskly left the Management Support Office.
‘Well, then.’
My first task was to perform my duties for a week, visiting the southern administrative departments of the Inner Palace.
The evaluation will cover skills in task execution, interpersonal relationships, and organizational management. Secret evaluators stationed within the southern administrative department will be monitoring my actions throughout.
Currently, I’ve been temporarily granted the authority of a 2nd Rank Secretary, a position just below the head of the Administrative Management Bureau of the Inner Palace, the 1st Rank Secretary.
Below a 2nd Rank Secretary are administrative assistants, senior scribes, and junior scribes. The South Management Support Office was largely staffed by junior scribes of commoner origin.
In short, I have significant discretion in most matters.
“Let’s start by understanding the work.”
A week is quite a short time to adapt to an organization.
A minimum of a month, and at most a year, is typically needed to familiarize oneself with the system and working relationships.
But I’ve been given only a week. There’s no choice but to move quickly.
“What’s your name and rank?”
Glaring at the junior official who had been staring blankly, he immediately responded, startled.
“J-junior Scribe Martin! Wh-what is your business..?”
“Baron Cain MacBilian, 2nd Rank Secretary. I have a few questions.”
“Baron? A 2nd Rank…Secretary?”
After pausing as if thinking, Martin’s eyes widened as he abruptly stood up.
“Glory to the empire! I greet you, Secretary!”
Martin’s stiffness reminded me of a newly transferred soldier. I patted his shoulder to calm him down.
“I’m new to the Inner Palace. Where’s the superintendent’s office?”
“Sup-erintendent, you mean?”
Martin’s face contorted as he answered the question.
Perceiving my inquisitive gaze, Martin regained his composure and turned with a somber expression.
“I shall guide you.”
As Martin and I moved, the wooden floors creaked beneath our feet.
Bureaucrats, having acclimated to the commotion, started their work again it seemed, only the scratch of quills and our steps quietly echoing.
Passing through the cluttered office filled with document piles, I asked nonchalantly,
“The workload seems heavy. Is the management support office always like this?”
The grotesque sight of the mountains of documents piled on the desks churned my stomach.
The dark circles under the workers’ eyes.
The heavy atmosphere.
The lifeless swaying of the quills.
I felt a strange deja vu.
“That’s how it is. At least… it’s relatively light today.”
I gave an approving nod at Martin’s awkward smile in response.
Martin finally stopped in front of a room labeled “Management Superintendent.”
The sound of two people could be heard from within the room, along with a faintly sweet smell stimulating my nose.
“Smell of alcohol?”
As I stroked my chin and looked at the door, Martin knocked.
“Junior Scribe Martin!”
“Wha? Martin? Tch.”
A dull sound came from inside the door before a voice came again.
“Get lost!”
The reaction was intense.
At the superintendent’s outburst, I looked at Martin. His face contorted, his body slightly quivered.
He gathered his breath but couldn’t say a word.
Leaving the unsettled Martin behind, I opened the door, and something flew at me.
“Empty bottle?”
I casually caught it. The bottle was, indeed, empty.
I placed the empty alcohol bottle roughly on a nearby shelf, and an utterly drunk voice scolded my ears.
“Hey! You came in without permission!”
A glance behind me showed Martin with his head bowed.
The weary junior bureaucrats.
The superintendent, drunk under a bright noonday sun.
Martin’s stiffened face as he tried to regain his composure.
Suddenly, memories of working at a wretched company came flooding back.
“Hmm.”
I immediately knew what my first task would be. It’s quite simple.
“While you people from the fringe are always like this because you don’t know better. And what about talking arrogantly to Miss Urey? And if you can’t do your job…huh?”
With groggy eyes, the bald man looked at me in confusion.
I planted a punch directly into the pinkish face of the guy.
—