The Delivery Nation (1)
The training logs were Aiden’s innovation.
In other words, until Aiden took office, no one had any idea how the soldiers' training was being conducted or how things were running.
It was, quite literally, a haphazard mess.
The bigger problem was that this kind of incompetence wasn't unique to the North. It was the sort of thing that made a professional civil servant, accustomed to 21st-century computerized systems, want to pull his hair out.
In truth, this situation wasn't just because this was another world.
16th-century Spain outsourced all its accounting to foreign merchants; France, before the King was dragged to the guillotine, had judgeships bought by the highest bidder; and in Joseon, the position responsible for the capital's public safety remained vacant for years without anyone even noticing. Administrative paralysis could be considered a long-standing tradition in human history, East and West.
Regardless, Aiden had no intention of following such traditions.
"Bring the person in charge up here, immediately!"
Last spring.
After a meeting with the knights, the training log system was introduced.
Who was the knight in charge of the training?
How many soldiers participated in total, and what kind of training did they receive?
What was the reason for this training?
What training was planned for the future?
If anyone was excused, what was the reason?
How would the make-up training for those excused be conducted?
How much budget had been spent, and how much would be spent in the future?
With the introduction of these logs, the Northern soldiers—who were already physically formidable—were evolving into human weapons that would make lords from other regions drool with envy, begging to hire them as mercenaries.
'I thought the barracks were the only place in this castle that ran well without my direct intervention.'
It had been running like a well-oiled machine, so he’d left it to the knights, thinking there wouldn't be any issues.
But to think the training logs, which he checked for the quarterly settlement, would stab him in the back.
Oh, the tragedy.
“It’s full of holes. Absolutely riddled with them.”
No matter how he looked at it, the training logs were problematic.
At Aiden’s clicking tongue, Jamie and Kalisa, who had been struggling with their own reports, rushed over to check the documents.
Their expressions softened almost immediately.
“Ah, but looking at this, it doesn't seem like the logistics are severely tangled.”
“That’s right, Administrative Officer. If anything, other territories would praise this as efficient. Hehe.”
Soldiers were missing their scheduled training, yet they were talking about logistics and efficiency? Why on earth would they say that?
'Wait.'
Aiden, who had been lost in thought, suddenly grasped a clue.
“The work our soldiers do is... training, defense, patrols, hunting...”
The soldiers had quite a lot on their plates.
But there was no helping it.
'In a territory without money, we can't afford to keep soldiers, rangers, and the city guard as separate entities.'
Because of this, the Northern soldiers worked in three shifts.
It wasn't divided by time, but rather a rotational system based on daily tasks.
Participating in training, handling territorial defense and public safety, or...
“...The Courier service.”
“Exactly. You know that well.”
At the word that left Aiden’s lips, Jamie crinkled his eyes in a way that didn't quite match his massive frame.
The courier service.
A system for delivering official documents.
Usually, this was the job of low-level clerks, but the situation in the North was a bit different.
'If I sent low-level clerks out alone, they’d be nothing but wolf food.'
Of course, since the low-level clerks were also Northerners, they might even be happy to find some "beef jerky" if they encountered a wolf in a one-on-one fight.
But wolves traveled in packs, and low-level clerks were human—they needed to eat and sleep, so the outcome was obvious.
Furthermore, one had to consider that thanks to merchants like Kalisa, over a dozen new villages had been incorporated into the North.
The number of couriers required and the difficulty of the routes to deliver the documents had both increased simultaneously.
Because of these overlapping issues, the Northern courier service was being heavily supported by the soldiers.
Clerks handled villages near the castle or areas where the roads were somewhat cleared, while soldiers were tasked with urgent messages or covering distant, dangerous regions.
“Besides, hasn't the number of official documents that need to be sent to each village increased significantly since this summer? Using soldiers who should be training was an unavoidable choice. I heard even the knights go out as couriers themselves sometimes.”
“Even the knights?”
“Yes.”
“But where did you hear that? Are you sure?”
When Aiden asked back, Jamie replied,
“I go to the communal cafeteria for lunch every day. I’m so sick of sandwiches I can’t even look at them anymore.”
Jamie shuddered as if the mere thought of the "Sandwich Era" still gave him goosebumps.
“What’s wrong with sandwiches? They’re convenient.”
It was just pitiful that his adjutant didn't understand the convenience of a sandwich.
'Still, I need to come up with a solution.'
At least he’d discovered it now.
It was obvious that the number of documents to be sent to each village would only increase further.
As the economic scale grew and interactions between villages increased, the content that needed to be delivered would also grow exponentially.
'An efficient courier system, huh.'
Should he create relay stations at key points like in the Joseon Dynasty and manage them?
'That would cost way too much money.'
Managing relay stations required both money and manpower.
Even though soldiers were precious, he didn't have the money to build and operate relay stations to cover this vast North, even if he died trying.
His head throbbed at the thought of money, but Jamie seemed to have a different thought upon seeing his superior.
'Oh, our Administrative Officer. He must be feeling lonely because he’s sick of sandwiches but hasn't asked me to go to the cafeteria together!'
He says sandwiches are fine, but how could a person live on nothing but sandwiches for months?
Our Administrative Officer is human, too!
“Come on, let’s go get some food!”
“Hm? I was just going to have a sandwich...”
“Oh, Administrative Officer! If you keep doing that, I’m going to get cursed at by everyone else! For not taking care of you!”
“?”
Aiden’s slender frame was no match for Jamie’s brawny arms.
***
The kitchen and communal cafeteria located on the first floor of the Lord's Castle.
Originally, the communal cafeteria for the staff was just a makeshift building thrown together outside.
Cold in winter, hot in summer, leaking when it rained, and swaying when the wind blew.
However, Aiden had decided it was a waste to leave the spacious cafeteria—which he rarely used himself—empty, so he opened it up for the staff and the officials who had offices on the first floor.
As a result,
“...Oh.”
Aiden, who had come down for the first time at mealtime since the cafeteria’s debut, was surprised.
The cafeteria was noisy, but it wasn't the kind of disorderly chaos that made one frown.
Simple but plentiful food was prepared on the tables.
People who greeted their colleagues took their own plates, sat at empty spots, and helped themselves to food to satisfy their hunger.
Kitchen workers moved busily here and there, checking if anything was lacking, and those waiting for a seat chatted in voices full of anticipation about what the meal would be today.
“Special dishes like meat or fish aren't served often, but there’s plenty of vegetables and bread. It’s all thanks to you, Administrative Officer, for allocating enough budget.”
“Plentiful? That can’t be right.”
When he built the cafeteria, Aiden had set a budget for the staff and officials' lunches.
He had always thought money was an issue, so he didn't think he’d provided enough.
“Before, the meal allowances for officials and staff all went into the Administrative Officer’s back pocket, so we couldn't even get a piece of bread. Now, at least we get bread and a couple of vegetable side dishes—this is a feast!”
When a predecessor makes a mess of things, it usually just leads to frustration, but in this respect, it was a benefit.
It was a kind of contrast effect, where even a little bit of competence looked like a massive achievement.
'Though I have no intention of defending those incompetent predecessors.'
Aiden offered a silent prayer today, hoping that the former administrative officers, wherever they were, would live a long and painful life.
“Anyway, it’ll be hard to eat here.”
“Yes? What do you mean by that?”
“Is everyone going to choke on their food while I’m eating? I’ll just eat a sandwich, so tell the chef.”
“But you’ve come all the way here!”
“There aren't even any seats.”
“Seats will appear if we make them.”
Before Aiden could stop him, Jamie marched into the cafeteria and shouted at the top of his lungs.
“The Administrative Officer is here!”
His voice was as booming as his physique.
“Hey!”
In the end, the embarrassment was Aiden’s to bear.
This much was certain.
He must have committed a sin in his past life.
Otherwise, why would his adjutant be like this?
“Administrative Officer! There’s a seat here! Come this way!”
“......”
A low-level official looked as if he had jumped up from his meal, not even finished, at the sudden appearance of the Administrative Officer.
Still, Aiden didn't say something like, 'Eat slowly. I’m fine.'
'How could they eat comfortably if I said that?'
In times like this, the best choice was to eat as quickly as possible and vacate the seat.
“You’ve arrived, Administrative Officer!”
“What are you doing? Serve him quickly!”
“Yes, sir!”
But the ordeal didn't end there.
Led by Brikal, the kitchen staff marched out in perfect formation and began laying out sparkling porcelain dishes in front of Aiden.
“Please start with the salad. We will prepare the main course right away. Between lamb and rabbit, which would you...”
“Ah, please...”
Aiden felt like he was a politician right now.
You know, the kind of politician who visits a cafeteria they never usually go to, accompanied by reporters, to take photos for social media, eating a flashy special meal that isn't usually served, and spouting nonsense like, 'Haha, I’m actually fine with anything.'
'Damn it.'
He sent the dishes back without a second thought.
“That’s enough. There’s plenty of food here, why bring out something separate? I set up this communal cafeteria so I could eat quickly and go back to work, so there’s no need to fuss over me.”
“But...”
“And clear away these dishes. There aren't many porcelain pieces left as it is; what if I break them?”
Without waiting for a reply, he grabbed a wooden plate that was stacked nearby and began eating the vegetable pickles and stir-fry already on the table with some bread.
The officials and workers in the cafeteria watched Aiden for a long time before, as if by mutual agreement, they resumed their meals.
They realized that the Lord—or rather, the acting Lord—showing such a casual side was a gesture that they didn't need to worry about him.
“How is it?”
“It’s fine.”
“Right? You’re always eating sandwiches in your office, so isn't it nice to come out and eat like this? From now on, often...”
“Shut it.”
“Yes, sir.”
He almost let out a laugh at Jamie’s attitude.
He really couldn't bring himself to hate the guy.
'He’s doing it because he cares about me.'
As for his lack of refinement, he could just teach him that later.
“I’ll have to rethink coming down to the cafeteria often.”
“But...”
“Why cause mutual discomfort?”
“Hehe. That’s true, too. Or should we do some construction? If we build a wall over there and make a few rooms, you could eat comfortably, Administrative Officer.”
“Why go that far... No, wait, since there are knights and department heads, maybe it would be good to build them?”
That wasn't a bad idea.
'Anyway, until the construction is finished, I’m stuck with sandwiches.'
He wasn't a picky eater, but eating warm food instead of a quick meal for the first time in a while made him feel strangely sentimental.
'If only delivery existed, I could have ordered all sorts of things.'
Ah.
I wonder how the owner of the Jjamppong place is doing?
...Delivery?
“Delivery... Delivery...”
That’s right, there was delivery, wasn't there?