The Merchants' Desperate Plea
“Company commander, until His Majesty's announcement, we thought monsters would be pouring down from the Gork Mountains year-round through all four seasons. So we expanded our businesses to support the soldiers.”
“Yes...?”
Suddenly, Jeffrey raised his voice.
The atmosphere of the conversation shifted in an instant.
“But if things continue like this, won't we have to shrink back to our old scale?”
“Probably. We're in the middle of a war.”
Once it was fully confirmed that everything had stabilized, personnel transfers would begin.
“Aigoo! Company commander, at this rate, our entire village will go under. Please, save us!”
Grip!
The old man grabbed my hand, lamenting as if his world was ending.
This was an utterly unexpected and awkward situation.
What the hell am I supposed to do here?
Let me try to sort this out.
First, they made a killing because the number of soldiers exploded.
Second, assuming it would last forever, they expanded their businesses.
Third, now that things are normalizing, they're sliding back to the old status quo.
So they're screwed and want the army to bail them out.
Damn, what kind of batshit crazy logic is this?
In other words, they shorted the leverage, got wrecked, and now they're here demanding the government take responsibility.
Shorting instead of going long—what the hell are they even asking for? It's hard to get a read on it.
“If all the soldiers leave like this, our revenue will get cut in half or more. We won't be able to make a living.”
“The demand isn't disappearing; things are just going back to normal. Isn't that a bit exaggerated?”
I tried reasoning within the bounds of common sense, but these guys weren't the type who operated on common sense.
“As president of the merchant guild, I believe it's unacceptable that we've sacrificed and worked so hard for the soldiers all this time, only to receive no support now.”
Hops spoke as if he'd reached some grand resolution, but it was pure bullshit.
No, you were running businesses. It wasn't volunteer work or anything.
Profiting the most off soldiers of anyone in the world and then acting like martyrs? That's straight-up insane.
“Hoo.”
I tamped down the rising anger with the heavy weight of my acting battalion commander responsibilities.
“So, what kind of support are you asking for? You must have come prepared.”
“Yes. First, please keep the current number of soldiers here at least until next year.”
Shit.
A pounding headache hit me the moment I heard the first sentence.
But their nonsense didn't end there.
“And we believe our support for the military units played a clear role in thwarting the Aditz Empire's scheme this time. So we deserve compensation for that.”
“Hmm...”
“Finally, the road between the base and the village is in terrible condition. It urgently needs repairs.”
At least one normal request amid the madness.
If even the last one had been ridiculous, I might've mistaken this for some ghost story novel.
“We have more to say, but we've picked out the most important and realistic points, so please consider them.”
That look of utter confidence, as if it was a done deal.
For a moment, I wondered if I was the one in the wrong.
Man, the world is such a pain in the ass.
Military bases and nearby villages have a symbiotic relationship.
Civilians handle the stress relief the troops can't get otherwise, and the village makes money off it.
Turning that hostile would be a real headache.
“From what I see, everything except the road improvements will be tough.”
“Why?”
“First off, troops are concentrating on the western front. Do you really think we can keep them pinned here just because of your wallets, in the middle of all this?”
I explained as calmly and logically as possible.
But they didn't need logic or principles.
“Monsters were pouring down just until recently. Who knows when it'll happen again? Can't you keep the troops here for a year on that basis?”
Ah, I'm exhausted.
I've dealt with people like this plenty in the army—they're impossible to reason with, no matter what you say.
“Well, it's not up to me anyway. When the battalion commander gets back, I'll pass on the message.”
Then just reject them later. That's the cleanest way to handle idiots.
“This is the fate of our village at stake. Please, we're begging you.”
“We're counting on you.”
Jeffrey and Hops made faces like pitiful victims—impressively so.
“There's nothing I can do. But I've heard you out, so head back for today.”
“Thank you.”
“We'll come by later with a gift from the merchant guild.”
The two bowed deeply one last time before leaving the room.
“Deputy company commander.”
“Yes, company commander.”
I called out to Lieutenant Aisa, who had been escorting them outside.
“Hand off their escort to the admin officer and come to the battalion commander's office.”
“Pardon...? Yes, understood.”
I sat waiting in the battalion commander's office, and soon Lieutenant Aisa entered.
“Did it go well?”
“No, not at all. They were completely unhinged.”
Calling them unhinged was actually a polite understatement.
“Pardon? What on earth did they say?”
“What did they say? Hell if I know where to even start.”
There was so much bullshit, picking what to recount was a chore.
But who am I? A member of the Intelligence Command, trained to gather and synthesize info.
This much I could handle.
“First, they want us not to reduce troop numbers because they need to make money.”
“Pardon?”
“And...”
I laid it all out for her in about five minutes—their demands, the fact that they'd gone short on the situation.
Her reaction was much the same as mine.
“Aren't they totally insane?”
“Right? So I'm not the crazy one?”
Honestly, for a second, it reminded me of those 9th-grade noble brats back at training camp, making me doubt myself.
But thankfully, I was the sane one again this time.
“From tying down frontline troops here just to fill their pockets, to trying to steal away your merits, company commander—it's unforgivable.”
I could feel her emotions heating up as she spoke.
She's even getting angry...?
This was the first time I'd seen her this furious.
“But if we don't give in to their demands, they'll pull something. I don't care personally, but the troops might.”
I wasn't big on going out anyway, and with how busy I was, I only dropped by the village for official business.
But expecting soldiers to live as righteously as me? That's straight-up unfair.
“If they jack up prices or go on strike, yeah, that'd cause problems.”
“Exactly.”
A strike was unlikely, though.
The real issue was price hikes.
By market logic, we should just let it be. Wait a sec.
Suddenly, an idea flashed in my head—one that could solve this whole mess.
“But do they really need to go to the village?”
“Pardon?”
“I mean, what do they even do there? Eat and drink, right?”
Why do soldiers go out on leave in the Korean military?
Because there's no PC bang on base.
If there was a PC bang on base, leave frequency would drop to a tenth.
Same here.
Give 'em good food on base and proper spots to hang out, and there's no reason to leave.
I'm a genius.
“We just build spots in the battalion for the troops to chill. Pool tables, games, whatever.”
“Hmm.”
“And a barbecue area where they can grill meat right here on base. What do you think?”
Someone might say barbecues on base? But surprisingly, bigger Korean bases have them.
Officers-only access is the problem.
“That would definitely... give them little reason to go out.”
Aisa's reaction wasn't bad either.
“Great. Investigate what the troops do on leave.”
“Understood.”
I had no idea back then.
How the troops' outings went way beyond my imagination.
“So, you're the Lieutenant Robin who escaped with Colonel Gobel.”
“Yes. It's an honor to meet you, Duke Abiel.”
Unlike his penal unit days, Robin stood sharply dressed before Serendia Abiel.
“A commoner, yet you seem well-versed in etiquette. From your Reconnaissance Command days?”
“It's the result of training to blend naturally in any environment or situation.”
“Ah, yes, I've heard they have such training.”
Duke Abiel smiled amusedly and picked up the quill in her hand.
“I'll be direct. Lieutenant Robin, I like you very much.”
To her, who prized collecting talent above all, Robin was a gem.
“Discarding what must be discarded in a crisis and delivering results—that's what Reconnaissance Command is for.”
“Thank you for the recognition.”
No trace of humility in his response.
And that only made the duke like him more.
“Tell me your dream. I'll make it come true, so become my man.”
A sweet offer from the Aditz Empire's top power broker.
Few on the continent could resist.
“I...”
Robin hesitated as if pondering, then forced the words out.
“I want to build a better empire. With my own hands.”
“A better empire. The toughest request I've heard yet.”
“You don't have to make it happen yourself, Your Grace. And I am already your man.”
With that, Robin knelt before Duke Abiel.
“Very well. Follow me, and at the end, you'll have everything a lieutenant desires. So devote yourself entirely to me.”
“Yes! Your Grace.”
Duke Abiel smiled at Robin's unwavering reply.
“First task: dismantle the Reconnaissance Command that abandoned you. Sound fun?”
“Reconnaissance Command? How could I...”
“They've already lost His Majesty's trust. A major purge is coming—build your faction in the chaos.”
“Understood.”
A tough order, but nothing compared to his penal unit days.