Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: 7. An Office Emerges (1)
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A chill wind blows into the office corridor.
Is it because the building is so old?
Every time I step on the floorboards, a spine-tingling screech echoes out.
A single newspaper lies discarded on that floor.
「80th Class Official Knight #1 Veil Joins the Capital Defense Force.」
It wasn't a massive headline.
But there it was, proudly printed on the front page.
'Patriotic knight who abandoned imperial riches for the sake of the nation...'
I picked up the newspaper laden with that burdensome propaganda.
I crumpled it into my pocket and walked down the rickety office corridor.
Not that I had any real patriotism.
This is the northern part of the capital, Norton.
The poorest district in the capital—a place even knights avoid.
Most of those assigned here are commoners or from fallen noble houses.
As a result, the knights stationed here get treated more like beat cops than heroes.
Even so, the reason I came here is simple.
Money.
Unlike the imperial family, constantly ousted by political infighting, the Capital Defense Knights have it easy.
You can safely build up seniority here and collect your pension.
On top of that, as protectors of the district, you can pocket all sorts of bribes.
Pension plus bribes.
In my previous life, even as a princess's guard, I'd envied those pot-bellied defense knights.
"They're still using a dump like this...?"
I took a deep breath.
At the far end of this ancient building, the air felt thick and stale.
Room 203.
Capital Defense Knight Order, Veil Mikhail.
My very own nameplate on the door.
I wiped it clean with the newspaper I'd picked up earlier.
"Even a cushy posting has its grunt work."
My heart still raced a little.
It wasn't some grand palace, but that meant fewer superiors dropping by.
'Perfect spot for slacking off and raking it in.'
That's what I'd thought right up until I opened the door.
But the moment I stepped inside, that notion evaporated.
The state of the office was a sight to behold.
"No, what kind of office is this...?"
Cobwebs draped thickly in the ceiling corners.
A dust-caked table and a broken sofa sat there as if untouched.
The sofa's leather was even torn open, with ugly tufts of stuffing spilling out.
'I forgot for a second.'
That the knight order's corruption extended to its upkeep.
The farther you got from Valderian, the worse it was.
"Guess I'll clean it up..."
Most knights keep a secretary or valet to handle chores and patrols.
But that's a privilege reserved for princess guards.
For a lowly knight like me, it's just a broom.
'Bear with it—this place is about to become my honey pot...'
I'd just finished sweeping the floor when the faint sound of military boots echoed from the corridor.
'One? No, two.'
The office door soon flew open.
I locked eyes with the two knights who barged in.
"This it? The new guy's office?"
An arrogant voice.
A chubby knight with pomaded slicked-back hair and brown eyes spoke up.
He squinted, displeased, as he looked around my workspace.
"Yes, that's right."
A female knight with straight black bobbed hair and a beauty mark under her eye.
She answered in a calm, low voice.
Early twenties at a glance—about my age.
"What're you? Senior's here and no salute?"
Straight to the bullshit.
Fitting for the capital's most washed-up defense force.
I didn't want to get on their bad side, so I snapped a salute.
At the same time, I sized up the guy's mana.
Someone this cocky had to be a pretty strong knight.
But...
His mana was a total mess—hard to believe he was even a knight.
He had more of it than the woman beside him, sure.
But it was untrained chaos.
"Kids these days are something else."
The guy, who looked about my age, sauntered in with his hands clasped behind his back.
And in that moment,
My carefully maintained poker face nearly cracked.
His heavy footsteps left filthy prints on the floor I'd just cleaned.
"You gonna clean up if you're here? Got an office now—should've tidied it already."
He chewed me out while eyeing the tracks he'd made himself.
At that moment, I thought,
'What is this, a patience test?'
He plopped down boldly in the chair I'd wiped down with care.
The rickety thing groaned as if about to snap.
"This is the top of the class? Candidate standards have really tanked."
The female senior glanced up at my stoic face amid the barrage of jabs.
She was a full head shorter than me and spoke up on my behalf.
"He's still the one who beat Richard."
A soft, low voice.
Her voice drew my gaze for a moment.
Black bob, black eyes—like a cat.
"Our Miya must not have heard. The guy had a mana surge and got disqualified."
The story had gotten twisted.
It wasn't a disqualification—he'd rampaged, and I'd beaten him down.
His noble buddies must have spread the rumor to save face.
"That shit doesn't fly here, punk."
He tossed a thick stack of documents onto my desk.
It was full of reports on cases I hadn't even been assigned.
Tavern brawls, domestic violence—stuff like that.
What the hell.
Day one, and he wants me writing reports for cases I never handled?
"Top draft pick like you can handle grunt work, right? Get it done by end of day."
He smirked and stood up.
"Come on, Miya. Too dusty here—you'll catch something."
His expression softened when he looked at her.
But Miya stared him down sternly.
"I'll finish training the rookie."
"He'll figure it out. Let's just go."
"Still, we should teach him right—so he doesn't cause you trouble later."
She'd teach him for her senior's sake, not mine.
Luper tugged up the corners of his thick lips.
"That so? Only 'Miya' looks out for me, huh?"
Luper cleared his throat awkwardly, then slowly backed out the door while eyeing his junior.
Before leaving, he poked his head back in and mimed smoking.
"I'll wait downstairs. Grab a smoke later."
"I quit smoking."
She held the salute until his bulky frame vanished completely, then slammed the door shut.
She leaned against it and let out a deep sigh.
"Ha, fuck..."
I blinked, wondering if I'd heard right.
The polite woman who'd been here till now had sworn.
A match struck next.
I turned toward the sound.
There was Miya, lighting up boldly—despite what she'd just said.
Her beauty mark was scrunched up tight, like she'd bottled up a ton of frustration.
Soon, the senior turned to me with a jaded look.
"Want one?"
"No, thanks."
When I declined, Miya tossed the matchbox carelessly onto the dusty desk.
She started smoking as far from me as possible.
"Guy's a total asshole, right?"
"It's fine. Seen his type plenty."
'Admirable, even.'
How much honey had he sucked down to get that gut?
Obesity had always been a sign of wealth.
'Could stand to ask his secrets for slacking off and cashing in.'
"Fine, my ass—your face was all twisted up."
Miya chuckled and tugged her eye corner down with a finger.
Had my face been that obvious?
I'd been controlling it.
"It's 'cause you're too good. He hates competent rookies. Probably wants you gone."
"I want to stick around here quietly for a long time."
Miya snorted at my firm reply.
She choked a bit and coughed.
It sounded like a small animal sneezing.
"Good luck with that. Guys like him aren't one-offs."
She tapped the shabby office wall with the back of her hand.
Then she let me in on a secret I hadn't known.
"Your office was supposed to be in that shiny new plaza building."
'No wonder only this one's a dump...'
"But Luper bitched that a newbie didn't deserve the latest digs, so they stuck you here."
Miya exhaled deeply, like she was done thinking about Luper.
She crossed her legs and took a drag.
"His family's a big deal. That's how he scraped by as a knight with that subpar body."
Ah, so that's why his mana was such a wreck.
Just elixir-popping.
"Sorry to dump bad vibes on you right off the bat."
Miya gave me an awkward apologetic look.
She rubbed her palms on her thighs, then offered a handshake.
"I'm Miya Greta. Your one-year senior."
"Veil. Nice to meet you."
After the handshake, she chuckled at me.
She went to the desk and checked out the grunt work Luper had dumped on me.
"I'll handle the paperwork. Not a rookie's job anyway."
"Thanks."
I nodded my thanks casually.
She shook her head.
"No need. If it's botched, it's my headache."
She flipped open the files with practiced ease.
She checked the reports in my place and started handwriting them on blank sheets.
Like she was showing off her senior authority.
"You've got it rough. Should've stuck to princess guarding—instead you're mopping here?"
She glanced at the mop by the desk.
"Hate the political games."
She nodded like she got it.
"Yeah, a commoner with no shot at promotion would just get a headache there."
She issued a laid-back warning, senior-style.
"But not here. Hang around a place like this, and it'll wreck your temper like mine."
Dark circles heavy under her eyes.
She'd clearly been through it.
I nodded vaguely and kept sweeping.
I had zero interest in climbing ranks anyway.
But soon, my broom had to stop.
From the corridor beyond the entrance.
A bunch of voices carried over.
They sounded loaded down with gear, making a racket.
￣￣￣
A light knock.
I beat Miya to the door.
"I'll get it."
I opened it carefully.
A mustached man I'd never seen before stood there with his assistants.
"Sir Veil Mikhail?"
"Yes. And you are?"
"I'm Colbert, imperial architect to Princess Lea."
He handed me an official decree with a relaxed smile.
It bore Princess Lea's golden seal.
"Princess Lea was deeply moved by your patriotic resolve to defend the homeland. To aid that conviction in some small way, she has personally ordered renovations to your office."
Colbert proudly displayed the gold, marble, and other lavish materials his crew had brought.
"My office?"
"Indeed. Use only the finest—make it as comfortable as possible."
"This is too much..."
Miya's eyes went wide at the opulent entourage.
"Wh-who's retainers are you?"
Startled by the words "Princess's servant"—something she'd likely never witnessed.
She hid the ashtray with cat-like speed.