Chapter 98
Chapter 98
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 98
Chapter Title: Franco Invasion Operation Formulation (1)
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After receiving my promotion notice and spending a night so intense with Laura that I could understand what it feels like to be a wrung-out dish rag,
I drank so much over the following week, at the insistent unspoken requests from the regimental officers for a promotion celebration and a party for Major General Zecht's marriage anniversary, that I worried I might actually die from it.
A month later, right after our official wedding ceremony, we were immediately reassigned to a new posting without even a honeymoon.
Even in the Korean military, headquarters units are often treated like another world compared to other outfits, and there's usually good reason for it.
In regular units, even a major wouldn't empty their own trash can or refill the printer paper themselves.
But at headquarters, majors have to handle cleaning duties like emptying trash bins themselves, while lieutenant colonels brew coffee and pass it around to everyone.
Before getting their stars, officers don't even receive salutes without glancing nervously at the higher-ups, and sometimes new arrivals fresh from basic—following the manual to the letter with crisp salutes—get told to tone it down or that it's not necessary here.
And the Reich Empire's General Staff was no exception to this peculiar military law.
"Major Chaplin, wipe that area cleaner. Brigadier General Zecht is sensitive after failing his promotion review this time."
"Make the coffee for Section Chief No. 3's desk stronger."
"Ten minutes until the generals arrive—hurry up, everyone! With some officers delayed in this round of promotions, who knows what nit they'll pick."
In the General Staff, where noble hierarchies and class discrimination were largely tolerated and came with all sorts of privileges, the top 1% of officers were personally handling menial chores.
It was astonishing to see these people—who probably wouldn't lift a finger to fetch their own cup at home—doing this.
For context, in the General Staff—equivalent to a company where a major is basically an entry-level employee and a colonel holds the status of a senior manager or section chief in a typical firm—
even a single stray document lying around was Class 2 classified or higher, capable of causing massive damage to the Empire and its military if leaked. That's why servants, slaves, enlisted men, and officers below major were flat-out banned from entry.
In a way, security here was tighter than the Imperial Palace where His Imperial Majesty resided.
So there I was, watching genuine nobles—rare sights anywhere in the Empire—earnestly doing work fit for servants.
"You're awfully young. In your early thirties with a major's rank already, the world must feel like it revolves around you. What are you doing? Grab that broom and sweep..."
The colonel trying to assign me mopping duty froze when he spotted the star on my epaulet and the Golden Knight's Sword medal.
His pupils shook wildly, and the veins around his neck started bulging more prominently as his posture stiffened.
"I'm Brigadier General Peter Jaeger, newly assigned as Deputy Chief of the Operations Division, General Staff. Minister of Military Affairs Otto Moritz summoned me—where's his office?"
The colonel's face hardened even more upon hearing my posting.
Evidently, brigadier generals typically headed sections here, while deputy chiefs were major generals or brigadiers on track for promotion to major general.
He seemed genuinely worried about screwing up big time with a higher-up on his first day.
"Loyalty! I'm Colonel Frontal, Supply Section Chief. His Excellency's office is straight down the hall to the left."
"Right, loyalty. Thanks for the directions."
With that, I left Colonel Frontal behind and briskly headed to the office of the waiting Minister of Military Affairs.
Behind me, the star-struck colonel seemed to be venting at his subordinates out of nowhere, but
as long as he wasn't striking without cause or spewing pointless abuse, I'd let it slide.
Besides, I was now in a position where I had to scramble to survive under someone whose authority rivaled five—or maybe six—stars.
My own neck was on the line.
An office furnished with luxurious furniture suited to a General Staff general, but adorned with battered armor and helmets full of dents from bayonets, sword cuts, and arrows; a dulled sword and shield; and the insignia from every post he'd held.
Here, I was sipping coffee personally poured by a man of six-star dignity.
"Not bad, is it? These are beans from the Haifa region, roasted by me personally."
It was definitely on par with the high-end stuff I'd drunk back in the modern world at those fancy cafes.
No, the deep aroma, subtle acidity, and bitterness blending perfectly made it even better.
But beyond the taste, the man sitting across from me was the pinnacle of Imperial officers and the head of the Moritz ducal house.
Even if it was just a hobby he roasted occasionally, he'd surely use only the finest premium beans.
The problem was, despite the great taste, it was so intimidating that I had no leisure to savor it.
"Is that so? I'm not much of a coffee drinker, so I wouldn't know, but one sip of Your Excellency's brew tells me how exceptional it is. It's so good I'd love to have it every day."
"Glad you like it. I woke up early this morning and roasted them specially for when I met you. Ah, no need to feel burdened—it's customary to brew a cup for new generals joining the General Staff."
Ah, I want to go home and grope Laura's breasts.
This single cup of coffee was so overwhelming it felt stuck in my throat. I miss Laura.
In this atmosphere, I chatted idly with the Minister while picking up survival tips for the General Staff.
"Well, there are a lot of big shots here, but no one will dare mess with the man who personally slew a khan and earned the Golden Knight's Sword. Just stick to the basics, nothing more."
"I'll do my utmost."
"Good. Now, let's get to the main point. Brigadier General Jaeger, fetch the book from my study labeled 'Franco Front War Execution Plan.'"
I retrieved the book, and the Minister opened it to a map of the Franco Republic as he spoke.
"This is a top-secret plan not even disclosed within the General Staff—known only to the cabinet ministers, field marshals, and His Imperial Majesty."
"Then why reveal this to me?"
I genuinely couldn't fathom why he'd share such a critical secret with me.
Sure, I'd racked up achievements, but what could a mere brigadier general contribute to devising such a terrifying operation?
As I sat there dumbfounded, the Minister showed me a notebook on the cover with the title of a lecture I'd given long ago.
"This is a summary of your lectures at the Staff College. Impressive—revolutionary, innovative stuff from a mere colonel, all immediately applicable in the field."
"..."
"So we tested your ideas: set up supply depots every 20 km and marched a regiment 100 km. Compared to foraging, local procurement, or moving with supply trains, it shaved two full days off the march."
Pre-modern armies slowed down not because of infantry, but the wagons full of food and sundries.
With depots, you minimize those wagons and march without waiting to link up with foraged supplies.
"Your platoon commander days' drill manual was impressive too. Tried it on recruits—same training time, but their combat effectiveness jumped."
In a cold-weapons era rife with melee, a soldier's prowess boils down to experience and disciplined movement.
Drills standardize that, boosting efficiency massively.
Even so, I figured implementing these would require me in a key spot like Supply or Operations Chief to push through.
Who knew they'd already tested everything and were set to overhaul traditional army ops?
It's scary, the Reich Empire's army.
These changes usually take years to a decade at minimum.
"Plus, your takes on combat will, execution capability, and seizing war advantages considering political situations—they all hit home."
"An honor, Your Excellency."
"So, I'm assigning all Franco-related docs to your office with top-secret access. Bring me a brilliant plan to flay those bastards alive. As Operations Deputy Chief, you won't handle anything else until it's done—just deliver something solid."
With that, the Minister dismissed me.
...I'd shone brightly, but ordering a full rewrite of the 'Franco Front War Execution Plan' just because I showed up?
What do the Emperor, the Minister, and the others see in me?