Chapter 20
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 20. The Land of Barbarians
Arithmetic.
Counting. Addition and subtraction. Multiplication and division.
Humans lie, but numbers do not lie.
1 plus 1 is always 2.
It doesn't become 1.5 because one is in a bad mood, nor 3 because one is in good condition.
That was the 'Basis of Civilization' Lucia Von Astellia learned at the Imperial Academy.
Except in the North.
"……Where did 50 sacks go?"
Lucia's finger pressed down on a line in the ledger.
"200 minus 150 is 50. But that 50 is missing. It became 0. Is this some kind of magic? Or did the flour sacks sprout legs and run away from home collectively?"
"Th-That is probably due to transportation……"
The old civil official standing in front stammered, sweating cold sweat.
Loss during transportation. Common excuse.
Spilled a little because the carriage rattled. Got wet because it rained. Rats gnawed on it.
"The loss rate is 25 percent."
Lucia's eyes sharpened.
"Not one or two sacks, but 50 sacks. An entire carriage amount vanished, isn't 'oops, spilled it' too shabby of an excuse? Salt is the same. Outgoing 100, received 70. Smoked meat is more serious. 300 catties went out, but received 200 catties."
Tap.
Lucia put the ledger down on the desk.
"Everything is evaporating by about 20 to 30 percent. This isn't loss. It’s leakage."
Leakage.
It is leaking.
There is a hole somewhere.
And through that hole, the North's finances are flowing out profusely.
"Sister, what are you saying right now?"
Freya, who was diligently oiling her blade in the corner, lifted her head.
"Talking about numbers."
"I mean, it sounds like you're chanting a spell."
"It means money is disappearing."
"Ah, I see. Then who stole it?"
"I’m trying to find that out."
"Ey, what. Simple. Find the guy who stole it and cut off his head."
Freya started maintaining her sword again.
She didn't understand. Clearly.
Freya whispered quietly to the civil official next to her.
Lucia rubbed her forehead.
'Anyway, this is embezzlement.'
Supply officers pocketing money is common in the Empire too.
Warehouse keeper siphoning a little. Transporter eating some in the middle. Quartermaster manipulating the ledger.
Classic triple combo of corruption.
But here, they don't even try to hide it.
To be such bold and shameless thieves.
This is the land of barbarians. Frostgard.
A place where they converse with swords.
But her weapon is not a sword but a pen.
She must pierce the logic of these muscle lumps with a pen.
"Call the Quartermaster."
After a while, the office door opened and a bulky Northern man entered.
Bushy beard, a layer of fat moderately covering bursting muscles.
The North's Supply Officer.
"Did you call, Your Highness?"
He was making the most innocent expression in the world.
A face that had no idea why he was called.
"Can you explain this numerical difference?"
Lucia thrust the ledger right in front of his nose.
"Numerical…… difference?"
The Quartermaster scratched his head with thick fingers.
"Here, the difference between what went out and what came in. The missing food."
"Ah, this?"
He laughed heartily.
It was a bright laugh without a speck of guilt.
"It’s originally like that."
"……Yes?"
"After hunting, we all eat together, don't we? In the North, it’s originally like that. We're hungry, what can we do?"
What do you mean what can you do. Endure it.
Since it was like that from before. Since everyone does it.
Something called custom.
Receiving indulgence for the reason that it is originally so.
Inertia of time justifying irrationality.
"The way to the warehouse is far, and we're hungry. So we roast and eat some on the way, share with villagers, and give some to the sled dogs that suffered."
Lucia shut her mouth.
Because she had so much to say she didn't know where to start.
"This time when we caught Frost Bears too, we had a banquet before putting them in the warehouse, and last time with the walruses too, we roasted and ate them right on the coast. What and how much we ate varies each time so… Haha! Originally, if hungry eat more, if full eat less, isn't it like that?"
Screeeech.
Gears creaked in her head.
'...It’s not embezzlement?'
She was applying the Empire's standards.
Assumption that someone siphoned it with malice. Conjecture that they took private profit through backdoor deals.
But this is the North.
It wasn't embezzlement or theft.
Just simply absence of system.
Eat without record. Share without record. Digest without record.
Excrement might remain, but ledgers do not remain.
'Because we kept doing it like that.''Because no one thought it was strange.''So naturally, the numbers can't match.'
Who ate how much is not important. What is important is the fact that they ate together.
That was Northern style bonding, Northern style loyalty, and Northern style economics.
'Disorder without malice. That gives me a bigger headache.'
But for Lucia, it was an opportunity.
Imposing order in chaos. Wouldn't that be the reason for an administrator's existence?
"……From now on, do it like this."
Lucia took out a sheet of paper and dipped ink.
Scratch scratch.
She drew a table with quick hand movements.
Lucia held up the completed form.
"It’s not difficult. Just 'Who', 'When', 'How much'. Just write these three things."
Lucia handed the completed form to the Quartermaster.
Compared to Imperial scribes, it is insufficient, but at least in this barbaric North, it was advanced civilization.
The Quartermaster stared blankly at that paper.
"If we do this…… what changes?"
"We can know where it leaks. Only then can we stop it."
"Hm."
The Quartermaster expressed disapproval.
"Your Highness, I understand your words but. You want us to write this every time?"
The Quartermaster shrugged. It was a gesture of refusal.
"After hunting ends, everyone is exhausted. After a bout with a Frost Bear, we don't even want to lift a finger. In that state, if told to hold a pen and count numbers…… no one will do it. Honestly."
"Annoy..."
Lucia's eyebrow twitched.
Argument that 'recording' is a luxury in the field of survival.
Furthermore, the civil official next to him carefully delivered the finishing blow.
"Uh…… Your Highness. There are many among Northern warriors who do not know arithmetic."
"Yes?"
"They write their names, but numbers…… if it goes over the number of fingers, the majority get confused."
The Quartermaster puffed out his chest proudly.
"Still, I count up to 20! Anything above that is just 'many'!"
Boasting. Really boasting.
Lucia rubbed her forehead.
Different from the Empire.
Culture living off martial power.
Society where people who read are rather the minority and treated as weak.
'What do I do? Did I think too much in the Imperial style? Arrogance trying to judge barbarism with the yardstick of civilization?'
It was when Lucia's eyes were shaking anxiously.
"Sister, why think so hard?"
It was Freya.
She threw a very simple and clear answer.
"Just make the weakest guy do it."
"……Huh?"
"There are guys who can't go hunting. Kids who always rest. Injured, too old, or just weak ones who become burdens."
Freya grinned.
"They have leftover energy anyway, right? Tell them to carry loads, write letters, and count numbers. Division of labor? Right person in the right place? Something like that."
Lucia stared blankly at her cousin for a moment.
Makes sense.
No, it’s a quite decent solution.
Introducing the most civilized system in the most barbaric way.
In the North, the weak cannot participate in hunting. It means their value as warriors is low.
If given a new role?
Save their pride. Secure manpower. Build a system.
Three birds with one stone.
"How is it, Sister? Am I a bit useful too?"
Freya triumphantly made a V sign.
Lucia nodded blankly.
"Yeah. Thanks, Freya. Really… groundbreaking."
"Hehe. Ask me about Northern affairs. Sister does numbers, I do people. Perfect fit."
Although it feels like an intelligent criminal and an action leader holding hands, anyway the problem is solved.
"Then let's implement it immediately. Select the resting warriors and…"
It was then.
Bang!
The office door burst open without warning.
A massive shadow stepped into the office.
Black armor. Black cloak. And an oppressive feeling darker than black.
It was the Black Knight.
"Dinner menu."
Ordinary words. Peaceful words.
But why does it sound so ominous coming from that man's mouth.
Thump!
Something fell from the Black Knight's shoulder with a thud.
The office floor shook.
Lucia's gaze turned to the floor.
And her pupils fluctuated as if an earthquake occurred.
Gray fur. Drooping tongue. Eyes with lost focus.
A massive body reaching 2 meters in length……
"H-Hiiiiiiek!?"
Lucia screamed and jumped onto her chair.
"Why, why, why put this here!?"
It was a dog's corpse. To be precise, a Snowfield Wolf.
"Oh, fresh. Did you catch it this morning?"
Freya approached and poked the wolf's flank.
"Correct."
The Black Knight nodded.
"Good, let’s grill the sirloin later, and boil the rest. Sister eat together too. They say wolf meat is good for skin."
"I, I, I’m fine…! No thought……!"
Lucia's face turned white.
Grill and eat? That?
'Eating dogs is illegal in the Empire!'
Imperial Law Article 3, Animals Prohibited for Consumption.
Dog. Cat. Parrot.
In the Empire, dogs are friends. Family.
Imperial pet dog 'Poppy' came to mind.
'These barbarians! How can you eat doggies!'
And a child who died with eyes open like that!
The Black Knight strode closer.
The massive shadow covered Lucia.
He spoke very affectionately, worrying about Lucia's health.
"Nutritional supplementation is essential."
"……."
"Chew and eat it all."
"Yeeeess……"
Lucia nodded with tears welling up.
I will eat.
I will eat.
Whether doggy or wolf or crocodile, I will eat it all up.
So please, just don't eat me.
The first step of reform was smooth.
Discovered loopholes in the supply system.
Proposed a solution.
Prepared execution plan with cousin's help.
It was a perfect day.
Except for the dinner menu.