The Race (1)

The Cat-folk village carriage race.

It started with something trivial.

As the Cat-folk, who had been pulling the mail carriages, grew accustomed to their work, they began to writhe in the throes of boredom. Having realized the comfort and convenience that money provided, they were in a state where they loathed the repetitive, dull daily routine, yet they still managed to complete their assigned tasks with a grumble.

However, unfortunately, it seemed they couldn't completely shed their feline instincts.

Because the Cat-folk couriers, possessed by the spirit of Columbus, were determined to change the scenery if they couldn't quit their jobs, the mail delivery schedule began to unravel.

The Mail Bureau managers, who had been holding it in, finally exploded.

Still, the Cat-folk couriers were quick to repent. Since their fault was clear, they didn't try to make excuses and immediately started reading the room. Ears twitching, tails swaying. Seeing that, the managers' anger subsided, and they just groaned, "Please, just do a better job. I'm begging you."

At the words of the Cat-folk, who had let out a sigh of contemplation while reading the room, the manager replied without much thought:

From then on, the efficiency of the Cat-folk mail carriages skyrocketed. Keeping to their schedule became a given, and they even started arriving hours, or in some cases, a full day earlier than expected.

Proportionally, the replacement cycle for carriage parts also accelerated. Repair bills from the Cat-folk couriers flooded into the Mail Bureau incessantly.

Thus, a sudden business trip was arranged. The clerk, who had been overworked, returned with a report that even included drawings.

A competition for carriage speed had broken out among the Cat-folk, who would never think of losing to anyone when it came to a sense of rivalry. Going down the same road every time was no longer a boring task for the Cat-folk couriers.

The problem was what happened next.

Some of the human couriers who heard the story began to take an interest in the Cat-folk's bets. Northerners never miss out when something fun to do comes along. Besides, a sense of rivalry? They wouldn't be pushed aside easily, even by the Cat-folk.

That was the process by which it eventually spread into a full-scale carriage race this winter.

"They'll do anything, I swear. I went through all the trouble of paving the roads, and this is what..."

Aiden, having heard the full story from Jamie, clutched his forehead in disbelief.

"Hehe. But doesn't it look fun? Why don't you attend and say a few words for the opening ceremony, Administrative Officer?"

"Opening ceremony, my foot. Forget it."

"But Kalisa seems to have made it to the finals, shouldn't you go and cheer for her?"

"...What?"

Who did what?

He knew his adjutants were experts at starting things without a plan, but this was a bit much. While it wasn't a one-to-one correspondence with a 21st-century South Korean position, the seat of an adjutant in a territory could roughly be considered equivalent to a Deputy Mayor. No, considering the authority to intervene in administration, legislation, judiciary, and sometimes even military power, it was a much higher position than a Deputy Mayor.

'And that adjutant is going to participate in a drag race?'

If he had to be precise, it would be closer to F1 than a drag race, but to Aiden, who had experience dealing with various types of reckless driving complaints, there wasn't much difference.

"I'm going crazy."

To think that Kalisa, whom he thought was the most rational and reasonable of the three adjutants, would cause such trouble. 'Did she get influenced by the North after living here?' If so, was Roland next...?

"...?"

"...?"

First, he had to set some ground rules.

"But you said she made it to the finals. Did she go through the preliminaries?"

"Of course. There were so many applicants."

Jamie clicked his tongue, saying, "That's why you should go outside and listen to what people are saying. Everyone is talking about this everywhere lately, and you don't even know."

"The Aimhand Carriage Workshop stepped up to sponsor it. The Mail Bureau also contributed. That's how the stage was properly set."

"...I didn't receive any report about that."

"Why, you signed it. The 'Budget Execution Form for Promoting Resident Cultural Exchange Events to Boost Employee Morale and Improve Work Efficiency'."

"......"

At those words, a document flashed through Aiden's mind.

It was a format he had been so accustomed to seeing since his past life that he thought they were all going to a company retreat somewhere nice, but it turned out to be racing.

'Should I call this creative?'

Anyway, it was impossible to overturn a situation that had already been approved.

"If anyone gets injured, don't think I'll let it slide. Tell Kalisa, too. Tell her to look after herself."

"Ayy, what could happen? And even if something does happen, Lapisha is here, so I don't know what there is to worry about."

"?"

"Ah, I didn't tell you."

Jamie slapped his fist into his palm and added, "Lapisha took first place in the preliminaries."

"......"

Aiden decided to just stop thinking. It seemed better for his mental health.

"The day of the showdown to decide the fastest Northerner! Everyone, guess the first place and win the prize!"

"Before the race starts, warm up your frozen bodies! Piping hot, tongue-tingling spicy stew is here!"

"Come, come! Pick, pick! It won't be here tomorrow! A special discount only for today! Everything must go!"

Aiden was dragged to the venue where the carriage race finals were held, eventually by Jamie's hand.

"Everyone seems determined to have a good time."

"Hehe. There's nothing to do in the winter, is there? Especially this winter, there was so much snow that they couldn't even hunt properly, so everyone must have been itching for something."

"Administrative Officer, eat this! It's delicious!"

Roland came running from afar, holding a bunch of skewers in his arms.

"...Is this sparrow?"

"It's a delicacy."

"I see."

"Try it!"

"I'm good."

He didn't particularly mind what he ate, but he didn't want to eat something that was a hassle to peel, so he simply refused.

"With this much snow, are you sure this race can even be held properly?"

"Everyone is even more excited because of that, actually."

"Is that so? I suppose the biggest letdown is having it canceled due to the weather."

He wasn't the type to get very immersed in sports, but he knew because there were a few baseball fanatics around him.

'The way they'd contact me to go drinking on days it was rained out...'

The faces of a few acquaintances who complained that the evening was joyless with a look of having lived through everything flashed by.

"Why would we cancel it?"

"Huh?"

"Isn't it actually better because the obstacles increase?"

It seems Aiden was still far from understanding all the Northerners.

"That's right! Carriage racing is fun ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on a straight, wide road, but it's also fun to see who can make it to the finish line safely without falling over in a place full of obstacles like this!"

Even Roland joined in, giggling. Seeing the way he spoke despite settling in later than Aiden, it seemed Roland was a step ahead in synchronizing with the North.

"Anyone listening would think carriage racing was a Northern tradition. Ugh."

"Hehe."

"Hehe."

"So, are you really going ahead with it like this? With this much snow piled up?"

"Showing who can handle the horses well and whose carriage is sturdier even in these harsh conditions is the real flavor of it."

"...You didn't pass on my message to make sure no one gets hurt, did you?"

Jamie rolled his eyes, refusing to make eye contact. Ugh, my fate. Aiden just sighed deeply, acknowledging that it was his own fault for trusting his adjutants who were vulnerable to dopamine.

"Oh, oh. It looks like it's about to start, over there! They're starting with the short distance!"

They had properly prepared the categories, it seemed—short distance, long distance, obstacles... There were many types. He learned later that there was even a category for minors, with strict restrictions on the ponies and carriage specifications. It was a scale only possible because the Dwarves and Aimhand had generously provided the funds.

"Whew-."

They said they had reserved the best seats to watch the short-distance race in advance. People nearby recognized Aiden and bowed their heads or blew kisses.

"What category is Kalisa participating in?"

"Her specialty is obstacles. But she's also in the short distance. Ah, there she is! Lane 3. Kalisa! Woooo! You must win! Win and show them the strength of the Lord's Castle!"

Jamie began cheering, almost frantically, raising his fist into the air. Swept up in that momentum, Roland also joined in, shouting while banging two sticks together that looked suspiciously like they were for cheering.

"Win and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠come back! Reclaim the glory!"

...When had she ever lost glory? More than that, it was a bit embarrassing. Couldn't you guys be quiet? But the people in the stands didn't care about the high-ranking officials acting like maniacs.

"Keep running even if the wheels fall off! Set a record!"

"Show everyone that Rembolt is the best of the best horses! Aaaaaah!"

"Protect the pride of the Cat-folk, meow! Don't even think about coming back to the village if you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠aren't first, meow!"

It was because everyone was already half-mad. Even...

Kalisa, who was positioned in Lane 3 and riding on Aimhand's new carriage, performed a provocation toward the Cat-folk who appeared to be her competitor in the next lane.

Swoosh-.

A gesture of bringing the edge of her hand to her throat and drawing a line.

'...Isn't that a death threat?'

Aiden was dumbfounded, but...

"Wooooooo!"

The spectators were on the verge of passing out from excitement. Aiden felt a little lonely.