Smuggling (1)

It had already been a full month since Ash THE Grey (Nightmare) Countess began living with us.

"Why'd you transform into me again?!"

"Because this is the form I like best…?"

Ash had decided she simply preferred Riel's body, and so she started going ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠about her daily life looking almost exactly like her.

Of course, if they were completely identical it would be impossible to tell them apart—something the Purge Squad in particular kept filing endless complaints about. So for Ash's Riel-mode, we settled on a clear distinction: pure long hair instead of the original's bob-and-ponytail, plus blue eyes.

"Well, at least we can tell you two apart now. That's something, right?"

"Gyaaaaah!"

The original Riel, needless to say, was less than thrilled.

Anyway, once the morning's usual Riel-and-Ash clone-jutsu session had wrapped up—

"Let's see… why the hell are the gate construction project demands landing on my desk?"

"Beats me. Guess the office slaves all ran off the second Alina came back."

The moment I dove into actual work, the first document I saw made my brow furrow on pure reflex.

The Holy Sevelian Empire was in the middle of a full-blown construction boom, racing to build out a proper Warp Gate network. Given the sheer size of imperial territory, the only visible progress so far was the endless stream of construction materials being shipped toward the planned sites—preparatory work, basically.

Which probably explained the next headache.

"And what's this? An emergency budget request from the Ministry of Land Management…?"

"Oh, that. They're just asking Your Excellency to throw some weight behind their budget allocation this time around."

"…"

"Plus the Ministry of Justice wants diplomatic advice on sanctions against material smuggling, while the Ministry of the Interior and the Imperial Military Police are requesting the Purge Squad stay on permanent standby for the situation."

The inter-ministry power struggle over a massive emergency budget was becoming painfully obvious. If this were still the old Foreign Ministry, we might have simply rolled over and accepted the Land Management request. But—

"Oh, and the Ministry of Logistics and Transport also wants support for their own supplementary budget."

"These people think they're joking with me."

We weren't the Foreign Ministry anymore. We were the Foreign Executive Ministry. When necessary we served as the Emperor's blade for purges; we also acted as the Empire's secret police for national security. Keep getting tangled in these petty bureaucratic games and even Artraia—with her bottomless reservoir of patience—would eventually stop looking the other way.

…Is that why she dumped Ash on me?

The thought that she was treating me like a well-behaved kid who needed a shiny toy to keep him quiet made me shove the idea away hard.

Nah. No way.

Even with Artraia's legendary maternal instincts, she wouldn't hand ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠over a high-tier combat asset like Ash for something that trivial.

I cleared my head, looked up, and spoke ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to Riel.

"Riel. From now on, if any more of these 'cooperation' requests come in, just bounce them straight back."

"For real?"

"Yeah. We need to make it crystal clear that the Foreign Executive Ministry stays strictly neutral on this kind of nonsense."

"Got it… so are we also ignoring the ones from Justice and the Military Police?"

"No. Public-security cooperation is fine. Leave those alone."

After giving Riel the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠broad strokes of our new policy, I picked up my terminal and got back to work.

Once every last "please take our side" request had been purged from the queue, something unexpected happened.

It's running surprisingly smoothly. Almost no noise at all.

The Warp Gate network construction was progressing far better than I'd anticipated. Normally this would be the exact moment rival noble factions started screaming about budget waste, foreign agents started stirring the pot, and a few brain-dead media outlets published outright smear pieces just to gum up the works.

I mentioned the odd quiet to Riel when she returned from delivering my orders to the secretariat.

"Well of course it is…?"

She looked at me like I'd just asked the dumbest question in the galaxy. Before I could reply, Alina—who had unilaterally hijacked someone else's terminal—answered for her.

"Exactly as Miss Riel says, little fleshling."

"…?"

"Last time you ordered the Purge Squad and Foreign Executive Ministry agents to shut down the conspiracy theories surrounding Minister Vermouth's gate project, they delivered results far beyond expectations."

"…Huh. Fair enough."

Now that she mentioned it, I did vaguely remember something like that. I thanked Alina and politely asked her to get off the terminal.

"Understood. If you need me again, just tap this button right here, little fleshling."

Once she was gone I leaned back against the sofa, stretched, and said,

"Well now. That's a happy story."

"Finally appreciating the front-line hard work, are we?"

"Yeah, yeah. I should probably arrange some extra bonuses soon."

Everything running smoothly, no smear campaigns, no problems—what more could a man want? For the first time in ages I actually felt happy while working.

That happiness, of course, didn't last.

"…Wait. What's this?"

"What's what?"

In the middle of the paperwork, one completely ordinary-looking report kept snagging my eye. Frowning, I set everything else aside and opened it.

Just as the title suggested, it was nothing more than a routine smuggling report.

"Ah, so some other vermin got caught smuggling again."

"Looks that way."

I couldn't figure out why this utterly mundane document kept drawing my attention. Then, as I skimmed the contents—

…Oh, hell. Is this it?!

A thought flashed through my mind. I immediately hit Pause and started digging through the quest window in the UI. And there it was—the reason this "ordinary" report had caught my eye.

Right. This event existed too.

Between the ancient AI ruins, the Warp Gates, the Grey Nightmare, and everything else, I'd completely forgotten about it. Now the quest was floating right in front of my face.

Still… this event dropped two years ago by current standards. Can I even clear it now?

I wondered whether tackling a two-year-old quest was allowed, then remembered that back in the game, as long as a quest didn't have a hard time limit, people routinely left them sitting for ten or twenty years without issue.

Eh, whatever. Just run it.

With that comforting thought, I selected option 2 without much further consideration—conveniently ignoring the tiny voice that whispered most events like this usually did come with timers.

The moment the pause lifted, I casually shoved Riel's forehead away with my pen just as she was about to rest her chin on my shoulder.

"Nngh—!"

"Riel. Look into the contents of this report."

"Huh? This one?"

Two years buried under mountains of paperwork hadn't done the report any favors, but Riel still scanned it in seconds and gave me a puzzled look.

"Is there something weird about it? Or is it some kind of cipher I don't know about?"

"No, nothing like that."

"Then mind telling me why you're personally ordering an investigation into a petty little smuggling case like this?"

From her perspective it was just another report about someone skimming a few construction materials. My only answer was a single word.

"Instinct."

Riel gave me a "well, if you say so" shrug and immediately got to work.

It didn't take long for us to realize the smuggling case was far bigger than either of us had imagined.

And, of course, the root of all evil in our Empire—the long-dead Predecessor Emperor—was tangled up in it as well.