I'll Put This to Good Use
Just as the Viscount of Lontes was halfway through dismantling his own conference room, the Lord’s Castle in the North was wearing a wide, satisfied grin over the cash that had just arrived from his territory.
“I thought the negotiations would drag on for a few more rounds, but they ended easier than I expected.”
“They probably looked down on us because we’re from the North,” Kalisa said, not even attempting to hide her mocking smirk.
“We aren’t the same North that just lets people walk all over them like they used to. Besides, there wasn’t a single person on their side capable of conducting a proper negotiation in the first place. If they had been dealing with real lords from the central regions, they wouldn’t have dared to try such a tactic.”
It was a cold, clinical assessment of the Lontes Viscount’s vassals. As a former merchant leader who had traveled extensively through the North, Kalisa possessed a wealth of data on the various territories surrounding their domain.
Her conclusion was simple: the neighboring territories only acted tough and obstructive toward the North because it looked like a ruin. Compared to the influential nobles of the central regions, they were nothing more than country bumpkins.
“They lack sophistication, intuition, and composure. Not to mention any grasp of political dynamics. That is likely why they are stuck in the harsh North, unable to descend into the fertile lands below.”
“But aren’t we the harshest and weakest of them all?”
“······.”
“Well, it’s good news that the neighbors are idiots. There’s no one easier to handle than a greedy, stupid neighbor.”
Struck by that sudden, brutal fact, Kalisa went quiet. Roland, as if waiting for his turn, took the floor.
“But is it really alright to do this...? I still feel like settling for just five Giant Rats was a bit…”
His voice trembled, and his eyes darted around anxiously.
Aiden thought to himself: *Oh boy. It’s going to take quite a while for that one to adapt to the North.*
“We didn’t break a single law, did we? What’s the problem?”
“The Viscount of Lontes will accuse you of failing to uphold the basic moral standards of a noble. Your reputation as an Administrative Officer might be dragged through the mud. The social circles will point fingers at this negotiation for years to come, and besides—.”
“First, I’m not a noble.”
“Pardon?”
“Second, my reputation isn’t exactly a top priority.”
“But, Administrative Officer!”
“Even if they badmouth me in their social circles or whatever they call it, what are they going to do? At most, they’ll stop sending me party invitations. What else can they do?”
“...I suppose that’s true, but...”
Aiden seemed genuinely unbothered by the whole affair.
*When have they ever invited me anyway?*
He was already entering his fourth season since taking office, and he hadn’t received more than five official invitations in total.
“And besides, in these kinds of things, you only succeed when the other party starts cursing your name.”
Why else would the highest praise in a game be, “You play like a total jerk”? A deal that leaves the other party feeling good? No matter how you dress it up, that’s just proof that it wasn’t the best outcome for your side. He had gained enough money to fund several business projects, and all he’d lost was his reputation—it was a profitable trade by any metric.
If only he could trade in pride or fame for things he actually needed for work, that would be even better.
“The important thing now is how we should spend this money. Does anyone have any ideas?”
“Winter is approaching, and starving beasts and monsters might tear through the villages. Shouldn’t we prepare for that?”
Roland, recovering his composure as befitting an adjutant, made his suggestion, but Aiden shook his head.
“Based on our tracking of the beasts’ breeding cycles and monster habitats throughout this summer and autumn, it doesn’t look like there will be any significant changes from last year.”
“So, there’s no immediate need to reinforce our defenses?”
“Correct.”
The Northern people handled average threats at the village level on their own. Again, the people of the North were inherently strong.
“How about we provide education for the residents during the winter? While it is the season when the able-bodied men head out for hunting, the majority of the residents stay indoors.”
“Education? What kind?”
“Literacy, arithmetic, or technical skills.”
“Do we have the infrastructure to teach that right now?”
“...It would be difficult.”
“Then hold off. Creating textbooks and finding teachers isn’t something that happens overnight. However, let’s start with the villages near the Lord’s Castle. We should be able to utilize the lower-level officials for that.”
“I will organize the pilot project report and submit it immediately.”
“Good.”
Kalisa’s proposal was passed.
“Why are you so quiet?”
“That is…”
Every eye in the office turned toward Jamie, who was looking uncharacteristically hesitant.
Whether he was nervous or deep in thought, he sighed to himself, licked his dry lips, and wavered. When Aiden’s expression began to show signs of irritation, Jamie finally spoke up. But he still seemed to be reading the room, circling the topic without getting to the point.
“I know very well that this money needs to be used for important projects, Administrative Officer! But, um…”
“But what?”
“I… I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but…”
“Speak clearly. Don’t you know by now that if the person proposing an idea hesitates, it’s doomed from the start?”
Stung by Aiden’s dry advice, Jamie pulled himself together.
“Poverty relief! How about we use it for poverty relief?”
He finally blurted out what was on his mind, his face turning bright red in an instant.
*...Damn it.*
Jamie thought he was unfit to be an adjutant. What was an adjutant to the Lord’s Castle? He was supposed to be the top administrator assisting the Lord in managing the territory. Yet, here he was, an adjutant, bringing up poverty relief in a meeting about developing the territory.
*What kind of money is that!*
His superior always said that reputation meant nothing, but how could it truly mean nothing? When it came down to it, this money was earned by trading away the Administrative Officer’s reputation. And he was here, suggesting…
The giant man squeezed his eyes shut. He expected a reprimand. He thought everyone in the room might see him as someone who couldn’t distinguish between public and private matters. After all, out of the four people in the office, he was the only one born in the North.
Suggesting charity because he felt bad for his neighbors was, by any measure, inappropriate for the time and place. It was barely even an agenda item.
“I, I apologize. Administrative Officer. Please just forget what I said—”
“Do we have the statistics from our population survey?”
“Yes.”
“?”
But Aiden didn’t mock Jamie. In fact, far from it.
*...Did you like it? Why?*
The Administrative Officer had a specific look he wore whenever he liked a proposal: his brow would furrow slightly, his lips would press together, and the corners of his mouth would lift just a fraction.
“Here it is. As you requested, I’ve compiled as many statistics as possible, but is there something specific you are looking for?”
Kalisa brought over a thick stack of papers.
“Find the households where the head of the family is ill and unable to work, or households without a head. Prioritize those that also have sick family members, elderly people who can’t work, or children.”
“Ah, yes!”
“I’ll help you look.”
Roland quickly joined in on the stack of papers. While other territories had conducted population surveys, this was the first time he had seen one this detailed, and his eyes sparkled.
*That right there, you see? That’s the blood, sweat, and tears of a 21st-century Excel slave.*
Roland, who had studied administration in the capital, was left speechless by the statistical methods Aiden had proposed. That look of admiration was enough to satisfy the pride of a holder of a Level 1 Computer Literacy Certificate.
“Also, pull out the households that reported low yields or low income this autumn.”
“Should we cross-reference the two?”
“Exactly.”
“Then we can identify the targets for emergency relief first.”
Kalisa was certainly quick when it came to numbers. Her experience running a merchant guild wasn’t just for show.
“Ad, Administrative Officer.”
“Why are you standing there slacking off? Aren’t you going to help?”
“Are you really doing it? The poverty relief?”
“You’re the one who suggested it.”
“But…!”
Jamie bit his lip. The faces of countless neighbors flashed before his eyes. This past year, there had been many changes in the North. The number of people starving had decreased significantly, and the number of people living with dignity had increased. They could finally look forward to tomorrow instead of just today, and parents dreaming of a better future for their children had spread like wildfire.
However, despite that, it was still a land that had been extremely poor. Poverty hadn’t vanished entirely. That was only natural. Even in the 21st century, where an enormous amount of perfectly good goods were thrown away every single day, there were still people starving to death somewhere. That was the nature of the wealth gap.
No matter how clear and sunny the day, there were always shadows where no light reached, and in those places, mold bloomed instead of flowers. The brighter it was outside, the deeper the shadows became—that was the way of the world. Jamie had dozens of neighbors he wanted to beg to be put on that list right now.
“Why don’t you take charge of the Livelihood Support Department under the Administrative Welfare Office?”
“Pardon?”
“I was wondering who would be the right person for the job, but you should take it and build it up.”
“Administrative Officer…!”
He had been given an unexpected title.
*Come to think of it, there was a department like that.*
Jamie looked at the organizational chart hanging on the wall.
— Organizational Chart —
Livelihood Support Department
Civil Complaint & Dispute Department
Technical Labor Department
Commercial Development Department
Educational Enlightenment Department
Of the five departments on the chart he hadn’t paid much attention to until now, the Livelihood Support Department was the very first one Aiden had written down.
“Is this a coincidence?”
“It’s inevitable.”
“But…”
“Caring for those who are starving is the most urgent task we have. Once the issue of starving and living with dignity is resolved, we must reduce conflict, and if conflict is resolved rationally, technology and labor will find their true value. Then, commerce will naturally develop, and to maintain this, we must focus on the education and enlightenment of the residents, right?”
Aiden looked at Kalisa and Roland as if to ask if they really hadn’t known.
“What, did you all really not know?”
Aiden clicked his tongue. What kind of organization runs without any hierarchy between departments? *Ah—is it usually that chaotic? Well, let’s just call this a perk of being an isekai protagonist.*
“Do you have time to just stand there with your mouths open? Don’t we need to select the applicants and finalize the scale of support before the first snow falls? And you need to distinguish between emergency and long-term support, don’t you? Are you just going to hand out a few sacks of flour and call it a day? Do you want them to keep waiting for the flour sacks from the Lord’s Castle the following year? You know that making residents dependent like that is a failed support policy, right?”
Six pairs of eyes, full of thoughts, wouldn’t leave him. Aiden sighed inwardly as he looked at them, then began to push them as he usually did.
“Don’t just think about it, get to work!”
It was money earned with such effort; it had to be put to good use.
The first snow had fallen. It was a time of year when the leaves hadn’t even properly turned in other regions.
Whoosh—!
Clatter, rattle, bang!
The snow, accompanied by a dry wind, beat mercilessly against the dilapidated hut.
The young girl, barely old enough to be called a girl, was terrified of how cold this winter would be. It wasn’t a worry a child should have.
“Is anyone home!”
Just then, someone knocked on the door from outside.
Creeeeak—!
“Who is…”
She heard her mother’s cracked voice. Her mother was not in good health. Adults in clean clothes entered the house and talked with her mother for a long time.
“Mom?”
The child saw her mother sobbing. Anxious, she clutched her mother’s skirt, which was stained and patched over many times. Her mother bowed repeatedly to the strangers with clean hands.
That night, smoke rose generously from the chimney of the child’s house.
The girl thought that perhaps, this winter, they wouldn’t be cold.