The Secret Thrill of Bureaucracy
In the vast empire, administrative paperwork overflowed, and the methods for transporting it varied widely. But the most reliable was undoubtedly the Imperial Post Office. Every territory officially recognized by the empire had at least one post office, where imperial postmen stopped regularly based on the territory's location and importance, picking up mail and delivering it to designated spots.
"Your Highness, mail has arrived."
All imperial royals were cogs in the machine that kept the empire running. Born with noble blood and exceptional talents, they received elite education and grew into outstanding talents—one and all. Upon graduating from the academy, royals were immediately thrown into the empire's grinder. If they had talent and ambition, they had to fulfill their duties and responsibilities in equal measure. That was the imperial family motto passed down from the founding emperor, and upon academy graduation, every royal gained the obligation to serve the empire. They could choose their field as a royal privilege, but wherever they went, senior royals were already there, grinding them down without mercy, blood ties be damned. Being royal was a highly useful ability for getting work done, and seniors never left capable subordinates alone. Work piled up as if testing the limits of their abilities, and any slow or unsatisfactory handling earned them a click of the tongue.
'Damn it all.'
Aurelia Valentina Volontarius recalled the endless workload and scrutinizing gazes, as if they were appraising her durability—like the reason she'd eaten well and trained since childhood was to make her last longer. For one of her duties as a royal—managing connections—she examined the letters.
Aurelia clicked her tongue at the letters brought by her maid. Most were useless. All royals were born with unique abilities thanks to the founding emperor's innate power. Using her own ability to read emotions, Aurelia detected the base desires clinging to the letters and sorted them onto three trays.
The bronze tray for letters from fools greedy beyond their wits; the silver for the clever but equally greedy; and the gold for the clever without greed. No letter could go unanswered, no matter how useless—even from those qualified to write to a royal. The bronze tray's letters would be handled by a novice maid, silver by the princess's steward, and gold by the princess herself.
As she sorted, Aurelia spotted a familiar seal.
"Eira Bostain?"
Confirming the Bostain family crest and the pattern of the signet ring she'd gifted Eira below it, the princess smiled at the letter from her long-time friend and opened it.
Details on the mage she now served, and plans to grant him a title.
Descriptions of experiences inside Nautilus.
Requests regarding Suhyun's potential and benefits to the princess.
Aurelia's delicate brows rose as she read the letter from Eira—one of the few nobles at the academy who met her standards.
"So that's where he was."
Eira's letter detailed the mage she served and plans to grant him a title. Aurelia could bestow a noble rank on the mage at Eira's request, but even Eira wouldn't want that. Instead, she highlighted Suhyun's potential and how he'd benefit the princess—but Aurelia already knew Suhyun well.
"I wondered where he'd gone after opening the North Sea route..."
Anyone unaware of the mage who subjugated the massive sea monster Aspidochelon blocking the empire's North Sea route lacked the qualifications to call themselves imperial. The empire had known of Suhyun's preparations to hunt Aspidochelon and was ready to assist. But sudden national intervention in a personal hunt could seem tyrannical, so they'd planned a cautious approach—preparing combat mages and stockpiled high-grade magical catalysts and mediums. Before contact, Suhyun slew Aspidochelon and vanished.
Afterward, reports of Suhyun's appearances reached imperial ears steadily, but tracking was impossible. Nautilus moved underground faster than any carriage, its emergence unpredictable. Fortunately, Eira's letter noted Suhyun buying construction timber in Bostain and heading to Chromore.
Aurelia handed the letter she'd been reading to Izola, her bodyguard and maid.
"What do you make of this, from a mage's perspective?"
Izola's eyes filled with disbelief as she read of experiences and descriptions inside Nautilus. She'd attended the academy with the princess and knew Eira well—Eira wouldn't lie to her. But Nautilus as described was unbelievable.
"Impossible."
"Considering those theses I gave you last time?"
Bio-Metal Transmutation
Theory for Super Mana Conductor Synthesis for Manufacturing Giant Artifacts
Methodology for Artificial Spirit Synthesis to Control Artifacts
Izola, who'd read Suhyun's theses, commissioned the Imperial Mage Tower to verify feasibility, and reviewed their report, shook her head.
"Even if everything in those theses is true, insurmountable problems remain."
Theoretically flawless, but no one could prove it practically. Even if true, maintaining such a massive structure's strength or handling movement stresses made Nautilus as described impossible with modern magic.
Aurelia, with only basic magical knowledge, pondered Izola's firm denial.
"Shall I give you the analysis file on Suhyun?"
"Yes."
In an empire where one person equaled a thousand in work and power, investigating strong figures was essential. Royals had exclusive intel networks and analysts.
Personality: Antisocial tendencies absent, but no submission to authority. Rebels under pressure. Weak to personal bonds.
Motivations: Power, promotion, money hold little value.
Incidents: Attempts to suppress via authority/power result in mysterious accidents for antagonists—no direct evidence.
Aurelia sighed after reading the exclusive analysis.
"Not antisocial, yet no bow to authority. Pressure brings out rebellion, but soft on affections..."
Analyzing all intel gathered during Suhyun's activities gave her a headache. Simple if power-hungry, ambitious, or greedy—but not for Suhyun. Those trying force met misfortune: death or downfall via exposed scandals. No proof, but obvious to her.
If Nautilus is real? The emperor would offer not a title, but a royal bride.
Even young, politics-focused Aurelia saw infinite gains from Nautilus. Its cargo capacity alone, linking territories, generated value worth marrying a royal for—militarily and diplomatically, more. They'd pull it into imperial influence by any means. Couldn't fully own while Suhyun lived, but emperors think long-term: mix bloodlines, build sway for generations ahead.
Aurelia glanced at her mirror. Exhaustion etched her face from overwork, but it enhanced her beauty's allure. No interest in men yet—but Suhyun? Maybe. Marrying him fulfilled royal duty too. Bridge linking palace and Nautilus, benefiting empire and freeing her from drudgery.
Empire's gain and hers aligned in her mind. She told Izola:
"I must speak to His Majesty."
To leash someone like Suhyun, she'd have to be the collar herself. Of course, purely from devotion to the imperial house's welfare.
One of Suhyun's goals was recreating his past life's items in this magic-fantasy world. It veered oddly into reproducing wuxia martial arts, or beloved ondol heating for all Nautilus passengers. And his long-prepared project was finally complete.
"Computer!"
Reproducing the computer—foundation of modern civilization, computing all with 0s and 1s. Powered by magic, not electricity; programs in magical syntax—an artifact wearing a computer's skin. But Suhyun succeeded.
With computers made, he wanted masses to recreate past life's content: games, forums, humor boards, anime, movies, comics—everything. But self-funding hordes was impossible; even as Nautilus' owner, he couldn't freely tap the trading company's funds. Daiyen was ironclad there, paying fair for his magic tools. So, he decided to seduce her.
Of course, he'd prepared persuasion during computer-building.
"What's this?"
Daiyen, hearing of the new artifact, eyed the massive near-cuboid.
"Simply put, a calculator."
"A calculator?"
Her face filled with doubt at its size—far beyond empire's gear/abacus calculators or pricey magic ones.
"Not an ordinary one."
Grinning, Suhyun activated it. No monitor; holographic projections in air displayed icons.
For Daiyen, he'd prepped Excel. Essential for office use, versatile for her paperwork and numbers.
"This is Nautilus internal food cost data."
All food imported, so Daiyen sought cheapest bulk buys. Analyzing preferences, consumption, port prices for optimal plans. Prices varied wildly; tracking, compiling, calculating was exhausting.
Seeing her data soured Daiyen's mood reflexively. Suhyun quickly demoed Excel's prowess.
Uploading her records, magic scanned and digitized instantly. Prepped templates sorted it. Her eyes changed.
Manipulating, pre-filled forms analyzed: quantities/prices from three territories, unit costs, cheapest options. Prepped templates enabled it, but reusable for any data.
"Update Bostain grain: 23 silver, 37 bronze per sack?"
"Edit with mouse and keyboard."
Explaining over demoing, Daiyen quickly mastered, diving in.
Learning formulas, cell links, she fell hard. Accounting's nightmare: one change ripples everywhere; miss one, ledgers mismatch. Excel auto-updated all.
"This... this is a revolution!"
Fast, logical. Proper input yielded instant results—Daiyen saw potential.
"And networkable for real-time data sharing."
"Then?"
"Real-time inventory."
"Price?"
"1250 gold."
1000 materials, 250 labor. Four orders let him make a fifth.
Daiyen opened a new sheet, analyzing Nautilus funds minus fixed costs.
"Make five more for now."
"No worries, right away."
Once office-spread, uses would diversify. Suhyun pondered first game, community name, heading to his workshop.