Reincarnated with the Country System

"Your Majesty, we've found an oil field in the Elysian Islands."

"Wow, that's great news. We don't have to worry about oil anymore."

"Yes, Your Majesty. This is Site Alpha-7. It's not just a pocket—it's a goddamn ocean of the stuff. Initial estimates put the reserves at 12 billion barrels. Twelve. Billion."

A slow, dangerous smile played on Alberto's lips. "Twelve billion," he repeated, the words rolling off his tongue like fine wine. "That's... remarkable."

"Significant?" Elizabeth sneered, her voice rising slightly. "This is a game-changer, Your Majesty. Do you have any idea what that means? The Bernard Empire consumes about 1.5 million barrels a day. This field alone could last us decades. Decades. And that's not the best part."

Alberto tilted his head, his smile widening. "Oh? Tell me."

Elizabeth stepped closer. "We can extract 200,000 barrels a day from that field. That will greatly increase our capacity, and we won't have to worry about oil as much. The infrastructure is already in place. We have the drills, the pipelines, the refineries—we could start pumping tomorrow if we wanted to."

"Then start it quickly."

Elizabeth nodded. "Also, Your Majesty, you need to go north to Britannia, where we are considering building a city. But that would take a long time. So I suggest that you build it using the system."

♦♦♦

The notice came like a thunderclap, rippling through the war-torn areas of Farlstone. It was nailed to the splintered remains of a marketplace bulletin board. The parchment was crisp, the ink bold and unyielding, as if the words themselves carried the weight of the authority.

"RECRUITMENT NOTICE: THE GUARDSMAN CORPS

Serve the Empire. Rise above your station. Secure your future.

The Bernard Empire seeks able-bodied men and women to join the newly formed Guardsman Corps. Enlist now and receive:

- A monthly salary of 2 gold coins.

- Comfortable housing and medical benefits.

- Land grants for veterans.

- A uniform of distinction, a symbol of pride and power.

Step forward. Prove your worth. The Empire rewards loyalty."

The crowd gathered around the notice, their faces gaunt but their eyes alight with a flicker of hope. The war had left them with nothing but hunger and despair, but here was a chance—a slim, golden chance—to claw their way out of the muck.

Eli stood at the edge of the crowd, his arms crossed, his jaw tight. He didn't need to read the notice; he'd already heard the whispers. Two gold coins a month. Housing. Land. It was more than he'd ever dreamed of. More than he'd ever had.

Mira tugged at his sleeve, her voice trembling. "Eli, you're not thinking of… joining, are you?"

He didn't answer right away. His eyes were fixed on the notice, on the bold, black letters that promised a way out. A way to provide for Mira and their mother. A way to stop feeling like a beggar in his own life.

"What choice do I have, Mira?" he finally said, his voice low and rough. "We're starving. Mom's sick. This… this could change everything."

Mira's grip tightened. "But it's dangerous. You could die. And… you'd have to swear allegiance to them. To the Bernard Empire. They're not our country, Eli. They're a foreign power."

Eli turned to her, his eyes hard. "And what's the alternative? Starve? Watch Mom waste away? The Britannia we knew is gone. The Queen ordered vassalization. The Empire owns us now. If I join, at least I can protect you. At least I can give us a chance."

The crowd around them buzzed with excitement and fear. Men and women alike were drawn to the promise of a better life, but the cost was clear. The Empire didn't give handouts. It demanded blood, sweat, and loyalty. And for the people of Britannia, that loyalty would come at the price of their national identity.

---

The Recruitment Office

The recruitment office was a hastily converted warehouse.

A long line of hopefuls snaked through the building, their faces a mix of hope and fear.

Eli stood in line, his heart pounding in his chest. He'd spent the night tossing and turning, weighing the risks and rewards. In the end, the decision was simple: he had nothing to lose.

The man in front of him was a burly farmer. He turned to Eli, his voice gruff. "You think they'll take us? I heard they're picky."

Eli shrugged. "They need bodies. Lots of them. If you can hold a rifle, they'll take you."

The farmer nodded, his expression grim. "Aye. And if you can't, they'll teach you. One way or another."

The line moved slowly, each step bringing Eli closer to his fate. He could hear the recruiters barking orders, their voices sharp and commanding.

"Next!"

Eli stepped forward, his stomach churning. The recruiter was a grizzled veteran, his face scarred, his eyes cold. He looked Eli up and down, his gaze piercing.

"Name?"

"Eli."

"Age?"

"17."

The recruiter scribbled on a piece of parchment, his movements quick and efficient. "Any experience with weapons?"

Eli hesitated. "I've hunted. Rabbits, mostly."

The recruiter snorted. "Well, now you'll be hunting men. Next!"

Eli moved to the next station, where a medic checked his health. His heart raced as the man listened to his chest, checked his eyes, and tested his strength.

"You're malnourished," the medic said bluntly. "But you'll do. Next!"

Finally, Eli stood before the last station. A stern-faced officer sat behind a desk, his uniform immaculate, his expression unreadable. He looked at Eli's paperwork, then at Eli himself.

"Why do you want to join the Guardsman Corps?"

Eli swallowed hard. "To provide for my family. To serve the Empire."

The officer's eyes narrowed. "The Empire doesn't need liars, boy. Speak plainly."

Eli clenched his fists. "I'm tired of being poor. Tired of watching my family suffer. I want a better life."

The officer studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Honesty. Good. You'll need it. But remember this: once you swear allegiance to the Bernard Empire, there's no going back. You're one of us. From today on, Britannia is a dead country to you. Do you understand?"

Eli's chest tightened, but he nodded. "I understand."

The officer stamped Eli's paperwork and handed him a small token—a bronze badge with the Empire's insignia.

"Report to the training camp tomorrow at dawn. Don't be late."