Chapter 147
Translator: penny
Chapter: 147
Chapter Title: Tidying the Household (2)
After Baek Il-yeong joined them, the towering stacks of bamboo slips began to dwindle at a rapid pace.
Of course, that didn't mean the volume of documents needing review and approval was somehow small.
The sheer backlog of administrative work in Owari was plain to see from the civil officials toiling away right below their room, being ground to dust alongside everyone else.
"......Just kill me instead."
"It's... the third day I haven't made it home."
How desperate were they for manpower that even literate samurai were pitching in on the grunt work? Owari's administration was on the brink of total paralysis, and no one knew that better than Oda Nobunaga. She couldn't help but stare in horror at the pair before her.
What... what kind of speed is that?
They snatched up bamboo slips scrawled with text, scanned them in a flash, signed the papers on the table, and sorted out the occasional errors.
—Thud.
"Lady Niwa. This part..."
"It's definitely suspicious. I'll send someone first thing tomorrow to check it out."
And that was just the start.
They cross-referenced old reports to spot inconsistencies and even compiled hit lists when they uncovered evidence of corruption.
It wasn't strange to watch their flawless efficiency in a daze. After all, Oda Nobunaga wasn't slacking off either. She knew full well she couldn't run from this necessary evil.
But reality could be cruel.
I'd rather just kill my enemies.
Chopping off heads was easy. Wrestling with ink-stained bamboo slips and papers until her head throbbed? That clashed with her nature.
It was only natural.
Administration wasn't just reading words—it demanded seeing the big picture and sharp arithmetic skills. That's why she'd called in Il-yeong. Not out of huge expectations, but half because she couldn't die alone, half because she wanted to see him.
Yeah, that was definitely it.
......Didn't they say he was a martial artist?
Nobunaga rubbed her eyes.
But no matter how much she blinked or rubbed, the two kept processing documents without a hint of hesitation.
How? The question burned in her mind.
The work they were reviewing was the cream of the crop—issues pre-filtered by those downstairs, the ones needing the clan lord's approval or judgment. Simple signatures wouldn't cut it; these demanded real brainpower.
They wouldn't half-ass it.
She was confident in that, knowing their personalities. So they were actually reading and scrutinizing everything...
Is that even possible?
Niwa Nagahide made sense.
Though she honed her martial skills, she only took the field for do-or-die battles like Okehazama. Her civil talents dominated otherwise.
But Il-yeong? No way.
"Hey."
Unable to contain her curiosity, she opened her mouth to ask.
—Thud!
If not for the crisp sound of Il-yeong setting down a bamboo slip on the tatami, that is. She froze mid-word, blinked a few times, then turned to Niwa Nagahide and started to speak again.
"Ni..."
—Thud!
Watching her do the same, Nobunaga let out a wry chuckle.
She wasn't an idiot.
Fine, I'll shut up, you two maniacs.
She wanted to flip the table, but realizing their speed meant her freedom too, she carefully set down her brush and grabbed the sake bottle she'd shoved in the corner.
And right then.
"......"
Il-yeong narrowed his eyes at the bottle in her hand instead of a brush, and Nobunaga thought:
...Ah, just one sip, for real.
—Thud.
"Phew."
"Looks like that's everything."
As Il-yeong set down the final bamboo slip with a quiet sigh, Niwa Nagahide, wearing an equally weary expression, spoke up.
The paperwork they'd started just before lunch dragged on until nearly midnight. The two stretched their stiff bodies and shook their heads.
"What a mess."
"Can't be helped."
Niwa Nagahide gave a bitter smile at Il-yeong's words.
Having reviewed it all themselves, they knew: much of Owari had rotted from within, and tax collection was a disaster.
Worse, most stemmed from lands of old cronies purged during the Imagawa invasion. Only after their deaths did the problems bubble up here.
"Tch."
But they couldn't blame Nobunaga. How could it be her fault after just a few years as clan lord?
It's Nobuhide's doing.
To be precise, it was her father, the previous lord, Oda Nobuhide. His achievements deserved respect, but his late indulgence in concubines and neglect of internal affairs was no secret. Still, as a pillar of Nobunaga's legitimacy, they kept it unspoken.
So Il-yeong nodded at Niwa Nagahide's bitter smile, took a sip of his now-cold tea, and turned to call Nobunaga.
Then he saw it.
"—Mmmnyah."
"Huh?"
Nobunaga, dead drunk, sprawled contentedly like a pleased cat, cheek propped on the table, fast asleep.
"Heh."
Niwa Nagahide, spotting it a beat after Il-yeong, let out a soft laugh. Il-yeong stifled a chuckle of his own as he gazed at her.
It was only natural.
Did they not know she hated this kind of work? To them, her sulking with quiet sips of sake was endearingly cute.
Can't pin her down.
One moment shooting to stop escapes, the next this. Il-yeong shook his head, smile lingering, and stood.
"Let her sleep a bit."
"Yeah. Hehe."
As if by agreement, they moved silently, gathering the bamboo slips from the corner and slipping out. Nobunaga was out cold enough that she'd never notice being carried off, but no worries—ninjas packed the rooms above and next door.
They handed the slips to the downstairs officials and promptly left the Tenshukaku.
Not for any grand reason—both just needed to escape the stuffiness. They brushed off greetings from samurai and officials, heading to a quieter spot.
How far had they walked?
"Ngh."
"Haa."
At the simultaneous groans, they locked eyes, blinked at their mutual shoulder- and neck-rubbing, then chuckled.
Then Niwa Nagahide spoke.
"You're heading to Kyoto, right?"
"Ah. Yes."
Proof that everyone in the know already did. With Owari's internal strife settled, Il-yeong was the obvious pick.
Many reasons, but...
"Lord Hirate is a force even in Kyoto. As his adopted son, even those stuck-up fools there won't dare mess with you."
She didn't forget to mutter about Kyoto's haughty nobles.
"We'll see."
Il-yeong knew she was right. But he had lingering unease.
"I'm worried they'll look down on me as a Joseon native."
"They will."
"Pardon?"
Niwa Nagahide didn't deny his concern. Caught off guard, Il-yeong stared at her.
He turned, taking in her face.
Her long indigo hair and eyes.
Delicate white skin and features.
Slightly downturned eyes.
Charitably, an enigmatic beauty. Uncharitably, a sly fox you couldn't read.
"Hmm."
She eyed the scar on his jaw and cheek as he turned, then spoke.
"But Kyoto nobles are weak to appearances. Fame works, unique origins too..."
A flicker of hesitation in her indigo eyes vanished, back to sly charm.
—Swipe.
She wiped a smudge of ink from under his jaw and whispered,
"Or striking looks might do the trick?"
It sounded teasing, but Il-yeong caught her intent and chuckled.
"A warning?"
"Just grandmotherly advice."
She stepped closer, whispering,
"Kyoto nobles are greedy, extravagant, and dumb. To them, you'd be a tempting collectible. Something to cage in a jewel box."
And the shogun's no different.
She swallowed the rest, but Il-yeong got it. He nodded.
"Noted."
"Thanks."
She smiled, genuinely pleased he'd take her advice.
"Hm."
Then her gaze flicked to something flickering atop the Tenshukaku. She stepped back lightly and added,
"You might want to go explain. Could look suspicious to onlookers?"
"......Damn."
Il-yeong could only laugh ruefully.
Looks like he'd need to pull an all-nighter for forgiveness.