14. This Is the Finance Department: Despair Arc
14. This Is the Finance Department: Despair Arc
During the final exams, a terrorist attack struck the academy.
The news jolted the students awake when their exams were abruptly halted and they were rushed back to campus.
"What? A terror attack? For real?"
"I just got word from a servant at the royal exclusive dormitory — they said it's real! Terrorists broke in and were smashing buildings left and right!"
"You've got to be kidding!"
The Sea of Trees, where finals were under way, lay at just the right distance from the academy — not close, but not terribly far. The explosions echoing from the academy's direction, the suddenly frantic faculty and Exam Officers, and the information a few students had managed to glean in secret all confirmed the story.
"O-our dorms are okay, right!?"
"Thank the gods finals were in session. If they hadn't been...... ngh."
"So even Grandis Academy isn't safe?"
But with only the bare fact of an attack and no details, the students' anxiety was only natural.
Some demanded to know if their dorms were intact. Others worried about friends and staff left behind at the academy. A few spiraled into panic, wondering if Grandis Academy itself had become dangerous.
A terrorist attack at the kingdom's most prestigious academy — and nowhere else — only magnified the chaos.
Yet that chaos subsided remarkably fast.
"Wh-what is this!?"
"Exam Officer? Was there always a lake here? And why is the lakebed dry?"
"Not a lake...... the Chairwoman made this? With one punch? While taking down a 7th Rank terror ringleader?"
On their way back to the academy, the students came upon a newly formed basin. To some, it looked like a lake whose water had simply vanished — a crater so enormous it was hard to process.
Only later did they learn it was the mark left behind when the Chairwoman apprehended the ringleader.
"So they got caught after all?"
"Zero casualties, I heard. They probably timed this for finals on purpose, don't you think?"
"Hey, look at that. Would you want to pull off a terror attack — or anything — while the Chairwoman was still on campus?"
"......Not a chance. Those terrorists are total cowards. If they were going to run anyway, why attack the academy at all?"
"Isn't it obvious? They wanted to build a reputation. Looking at this, forget reputation — getting out alive is the real problem."
The students realized the attack had been far less serious than they'd imagined.
Buildings? Yes, some had collapsed. But none were student dormitories, lecture halls, or research labs — only outlying structures and oddly irrelevant spots had been hit.
Casualties? Not even injuries, let alone deaths. The terrorists had done nothing but flee for their lives, and with most people away for finals, no one had been caught in the collapsing buildings.
The ringleader? Captured. Moreover, despite being a 7th Rank, he had been killed in a single blow from the Chairwoman. The remaining terrorists had reportedly fled with their tails between their legs.
In the end, the academy had suffered an attack but sustained no real damage to speak of.
However, regardless of the actual harm, the academy's outward appearance was another matter entirely.
"A total of 125 collapsed buildings, countless damaged roads and roadside trees, and, on top of the direct collapses, quite a few structures were buried or swept away by debris."
"What about the property damage estimate?"
"We're still working on it...... but it's expected to be 'substantial.' You're not planning to pass this off onto someone else, are you?"
"Oh, come now. What do you take me for? Do I look like that kind of scoundrel?"
"............."
"Answer."
"......No."
"Then we're settled, aren't we."
You crazy bastard.
Milia muttered the curse just quietly enough that a 1st Rank wouldn't catch it. Except, thanks to a certain someone who'd fed her an absurdly expensive top-grade elixir, I could hear her perfectly well — for a brief while, at least.
But I wasn't the type to make a fuss over something like this, and I didn't hold grudges either.
I simply added one more stack of paperwork to Milia's pile.
"You heard...... that?"
"Pardon? I've no idea what you mean. This is just work that needs doing, so I'm handing it over. You understand, yes?"
"............."
Wisely, she didn't let anything slip out loud this time. Good. If she keeps it purely internal, I can't hear her either — how nice for both of us.
Not that I was picking on Milia one-sidedly. I wasn't joking — I genuinely felt great.
After being stuck in this godforsaken office all by myself, having a legal slave — no, an illegal slave, actually — was pure bliss.
"You want me to do all of this?"
"Once you actually look at it, none of it is complicated. You just need to review the whole lot."
"That's the same thing......."
Milia, now operating as a (provisional) member of the Finance Department, let out a deep sigh. All that fuss over a workload that only required seven hours of focus.
Ever since the terror plot, Milia had been assisting with my work just as she had for the past two weeks. She'd already been a significant help, and by now I could treat her not as a student but as a proper Finance Department staffer without any issue.
The reason wasn't anything complicated — it was the "personal trade" I'd made with her. The deal where I'd handled Malton as a sacrificial offering for the terror operation.
That was a fatal secret for Milia too, one that could never come to light. Considering she knew I'd orchestrated the attack, we each effectively held the other's life in our hands.
And precisely because of that, I could trust Milia.
'Though it's not exactly a life-for-life situation.'
Strictly speaking, I did hold Milia's life in my hands. What Milia held over me, however, wasn't my life. It was threatening, but that one revelation alone wouldn't ruin me.
That came down to our respective social positions. Honestly — if a single academy student stood up and shouted, "I'm actually a bishop of the Wish Order and the Finance Director commissioned us to stage a terror attack!", how many people would believe her?
Sure, some would cast suspicious glances my way or talk behind my back, but without clear physical evidence, I could just deny everything and that would be the end of it. If it came to that, I could even borrow the Chairwoman's power.
Milia's situation, though, was different. A 7th Rank from the already-declining Wish Order had just died. If it ever came out that Milia had orchestrated that death —
Unlike me, Milia hadn't built a clear power base. Would she survive within the Order if that secret got out?
'Which is another way of saying — once Milia does build a power base, this leverage becomes useless.'
But how much time could she really devote to Order affairs while staying enrolled at the academy as a student and handling Finance Department work on top of it?
She'd become the youngest bishop ever, so she'd undoubtedly build that base someday — just not right now. And for the moment, that was enough.
Because I held her leash, I could trust Milia more than I trusted most of the regular faculty.
"You can head home after finishing just that for today. As promised, you needn't worry about attendance or exams."
"......And you'll still provide the stipend, yes?"
"But of course."
"Haah...... fine."
That didn't mean I was exploiting her for free, either. That approach kills efficiency. I'd granted Milia freedom from attendance and exams, and on top of that, arranged for living expenses and a stipend.
The former wasn't particularly difficult, given my authority as Finance Director. After all, there were genuinely rare cases of students at Grandis Academy who couldn't even afford tuition and had to work part-time.
As for the latter — well, with the Wish Order crumbling, I'd figured money was probably tight for her. I felt a strange sense of kinship there, too.
A tangle of circumstances like that had brought Milia into the Finance Department, unofficially but effectively.
'Still, I'd better be careful.'
Naturally, even with her working for the Finance Department, I wasn't about to disclose the academy's budget situation or the bankruptcy crisis. What I entrusted to Milia was...... the bulk of the clerical work.
The damned proposal reviews, the whiny budget-increase requests to bounce back, the hunt for flaws in reports, the straightforward approvals and sign-offs — and so on.
These financial documents were so fragmented that even if she pored over them until the end of time, she'd never piece together the academy's overall financial picture. It's like picking up a single speck of dust at home with your eyes closed and trying to determine whether the whole house is clean.
I was fortunate, in many ways, that Milia was competent.
'Though originally, I don't think her competence ran in this direction......'
From what I remembered of her performance during the uninhabited-island midterm, her skills had been weighted heavily toward woodworking rather than practical administrative work or interpersonal agility. If anything, she'd been markedly passive when it came to conversation and maintaining relationships.
Had all of that been an act? Or was this current version the act?
......Honestly, it didn't matter.
'Yellow ox or black ox, as long as it pulls the plow.'
Whichever Milia she was, as long as she handled the paperwork well, that was all I cared about. To me, that was the most important thing.
"Well then, I'll be stepping out to the Chairwoman's office for a moment — please take care of those documents. And if you require anything magical, feel free to make use of the equipment over there."
"......You're talking about Professor Kirke, aren't you."
"She agreed to be classified as equipment, so please feel free to refer to her as such."
When I offered to return 0.1% of her salary, she'd immediately thanked me and happily signed the equipment roster.
Did I give her too much? Next time, I should offer half that amount.
Leaving Kirke behind as she desperately massaged her balding crown, I exited the office.
And stepped right into the Chairwoman's office next door.
'If it's going to be like this, couldn't we just install a door in the wall?'
Why did I have to go out into the hallway, knock, and then enter? Installing a new door would cost money, so I kept my mouth shut, but it was oddly inconvenient.
At any rate, once I was inside the Chairwoman's office —
"Get out."
"Yes, ma'am."
A soft click.
She told me to get out, so I got out. And without a shred of hesitation, I turned to head back to my office—
"Wait! In a situation like this, you're supposed to try multiple times! Why would you give up that fast!"
"You told me to leave, so I left."
"That's exactly my point! You're supposed to read the mood and grovel, not actually leave!"
"And why should I have to do that?"
"Because—!"
Fuming, the Chairwoman yanked the door open.
And glared at me with eyes full of resentment.
"Because the Finance Director went and cohabited with a female student with a big dopey grin on his face!"
"First: Rus Spero uses chest bindings and ki to alter her skeletal structure and disguise herself as a man. Student Rus's disguise was so sophisticated that even you, Chairwoman, failed to notice it, and as a 1st Rank, I naturally believed Student Rus to be male."
"Uh."
"Second: on the day I cohabited with Student Rus, I immediately reported it to you, Chairwoman, and after discussion, you were persuaded and accepted the arrangement. Furthermore, starting the very next day, I moved out of the dormitory and spent two weeks living in my office — meaning that, strictly speaking, the cohabitation lasted less than a single day."
"Er."
"Third: I learned Student Rus was female only yesterday. Even then, it was due to Student Rus's own slip. And even if it had been discovered earlier, the fault lies with Student Rus for concealing her gender — my share of the responsibility is minimal. A 1st Rank detecting a 6th Rank's disguise is near-impossible. Do you have any objection to these points?"
".........No."
"If not, let's go back inside. I'm busy as it is, and bickering over this is a waste of precious time."
"Yes......."
If the Chairwoman had been genuinely angry, that would be one thing. But snapping at me when she knew perfectly well I'd done almost nothing wrong — that was harder to forgive. On an ordinary day, I'd have humored the old woman's grumbling, but this was a critical period.
Still, the sight of her retreating inside with her shoulders slumped tugged at me a little.
So I reached out and pressed my fingers into her shoulders.
"F-Finance Director......?"
"You know very well I'm not here to lecture you, Chairwoman. I was genuinely indignant, and I'm busy. That's all."
"Hmph."
"Please let this much serve as an apology."
"......I'm not angry."
As it turns out, a shoulder massage is the single best way to soothe a cranky old person. When I stepped closer and kneaded the Chairwoman's shoulders, she grumbled but adjusted her posture to make it easier for me.
Though honestly — her shoulders were ridiculously solid. Was this what 8th Rank meant? My hands hurt. My fingers were genuinely throbbing.
I'm not exaggerating — I genuinely doubted I could keep it up for more than a minute.
Fortunately, the Chairwoman signaled that it was enough before my fingers went numb. Thank goodness.
"I'll let it slide...... just this once. I know you're not the type to do anything strange just because you're living with a female student."
"I don't even have the time for anything strange. When I get to the dormitory, I sleep and then leave. What else would I do?"
"Well, that's true, but...... anyway."
My work-life balance briefly flickered with melancholy, but I pulled myself together. My fingers still hurt. Was being a 1st Rank so miserable that I couldn't even massage an 8th Rank's shoulders? How is a 1st Rank supposed to live with this kind of indignity?
Anyway, enough nonsense.
"About the terror attack yesterday — and today, actually."
"......Yes."
"Including the ones that just arrived, about twenty letters have come in."
And then.
"Every single one of those letters conveys condolences — and offers donations."
"................"
"With just the projected amounts, the academy's lifespan has already been extended by a year."
"......!!!"
This staged terror attack.
Was a resounding success.