Interviews (2)

The interviews proceeded smoothly, one after another. If I weren't a high-ranking mage, the whole process would have taken months.

Spatial teleportation had a one-day cooldown, so I visited the contestants one per ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠day, squeezing in some thoroughly productive pre-interviews.

The men first.

"So I really can do whatever I want, is that right?"

"That's right. As long as you follow the rules, you can play it however you like."

"Haha, now this I can get excited about. Tangled, secret feelings in a house full of men and women? That's my specialty. They'll all be dancing in the palm of my hand."

"Sure. Go ahead and play them however you want. I'll be watching."

"The meals... they're really providing all three a day?"

"Yep. Unlimited, and all top-grade ingredients."

"Thank you! I'll become a couple no matter what, even if it's just to pay off the family debts!!"

"Um, would it be all right if I packed up any leftover ingredients to take home?"

"...Don't push it, you greedy little punk. We'll pay you a fat appearance fee, so just eat."

"Even so, isn't the appearance fee a little low? I'd need at least five times this before it would be worth my while to appear..."

"I'll cut our trade volume with Icarus in half."

"......That ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠seems like a perfectly reasonable appearance fee."

"You were just saying it was too low."

"It appears I misjudged the value of this program. My apologies, Your Excellency."

"A camera magitool with a transmission delay of under three seconds? That's theoretically... wait, how did you stabilize the mana refraction index of the lens? Who even designed this circuit layout?"

"Come to the house and I'll let you take one apart yourself. Make it to the final couple and I'll give you the schematics."

"Y-you have to keep that promise."

"......Sure thing, nerd."

What a colorful bunch. Next up, the women.

"Pay me well and I'll do whatever you tell me. But dating? I don't actually have to go for that, right? If my heart's not in it, I might not try that hard, you know."

"That's fine by me. Though there is a pretty substantial prize if you make it as a couple."

"Wait, that's huge!? I-I'll definitely make it to the final couple!"

"Broadcasting is a fight over who gets more screen time, isn't it? Director, couldn't you just stamp our guild's logo on my clothes? I'll make it well worth your while."

"Go see Sylvia, the Head of Advertising, and get the official per-second rate sheet. Shortcuts don't work here."

"Tch, so strict. Fine, whatever. You said high nobles are appearing too, right?"

"That's right."

"Heh. If I can hook myself a high noble and open up some trade routes... hohohoho, I'd better give it my all!"

"Places with lots of people... I don't like them... do I really have to go...?"

"If you don't show up, I'm slashing your lab budget and taking your room."

"Eek! I'll go... I'm going... b-but... I might not be able to talk to the men..."

"Make it as a final couple and I'll fund your research and supply you with high-grade mana stones. You'll probably never have to worry about research money again."

"I-is that true!!!??"

"Will there really be a fated love there, just like in the novels? The kind where a knight and a grand duke duel over me! I had thirty dresses custom-made just for this house stay!"

"Yeah, sure. Wear as many as you want. I like the enthusiasm."

"Ahh...! I do hope my destined one is waiting for me there!"

"That'll depend on how you play it. I doubt you'll be bored, though."

And last of all.

A final interview subject who could rival Aaron himself.

Eldest daughter of the Empire's premier ducal house, and Female Contestant #1 of Imperial Men and Women.

The late Duke had spoiled her rotten, and she'd grown into the kind of insufferable creature you'd expect from a villainess young lady. Then again, she didn't exactly mean any harm. Not on purpose, anyway.

She was also the most anticipated villain of this season of Imperial Men and Women.

Rosalyne smiled at me.

"As you well know, Uncle, the bedding absolutely must be the finest silk woven in the South. Cotton rashes my skin the moment it touches me. Ah, and the water I drink in the morning must be spring water from the Eastern Mountains. Anything else has a fishy smell I simply cannot swallow."

The arrogant, outrageous demands pouring from her mouth showed no sign of stopping. I propped my chin on my hand, making a minute adjustment to the angle of the magitech camera floating in the air.

"And the meals will of course be prepared by someone of imperial head-chef caliber, yes? I trust you won't make me chew on those dry scraps of bread commoners eat. I am rather particular about the origin of my ingredients, you see."

There wasn't a shred of doubt in Rosalyne's eyes as she hid her mouth behind her fan. She was absolutely certain she would receive the same perfect treatment once she entered the house.

I cheered internally and nodded.

"Of course. Tracing the origin of ingredients is important."

Except for the part where you'll be digging potatoes out of the garden yourself and washing the dirt off your own carrots.

I fought back the laugh threatening to burst out and put on a serious face, pretending to jot her absurd demands down on parchment.

The perfect villain, destined to monopolize the audience's spite.

"You know the deal, right? If you don't make it as a final couple, I'm reclaiming the monopoly rights granted to House Argent."

"Those privileges should have been surrendered long ago, but if you're offering me a chance like this, I have no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠reason to refuse. Fufufu, you really are a tease, Uncle. Going through all this bothersome process just to keep the other nobles from complaining."

"Talking like you've already locked in a couple, huh?"

"Oh my? You too, Uncle? I am Rosalyne Argent, you know. Do you honestly think there's a man alive who wouldn't fall for me?"

Mm. That's it. Keep that energy, Rosalyne. I'm counting on you.

And with that, the long, long round of interviews was finally over.

People really were fascinating. Every last one of them carried a distinct personality and a purpose all their own.

"Hahh."

It wasn't until I arrived on a quiet forest path on the outskirts of the capital that I finally stowed the camera magitool. I scanned the list of ten names written on the parchment and stretched.

So the interviews are finally done. From planning to casting... actually making a show yourself is pretty fun, isn't it?

My first field assignment as station director had been a roaring success.

I was rolling my neck, working out the stiffness in my shoulders, when I suddenly stopped. Far off, beneath a ridgeline, smoke rose from a cluster of village houses.

Hmm. I'm already out for the first time in a while. Maybe I should do a little incognito inspection.

I wasn't just some lunatic obsessed with broadcasting. My actual job was Chancellor — the man who ran this Empire's administration and household affairs. Seeing with my own eyes what the people ate, what they wore, and how the policies I'd issued were actually playing out on the ground — that, too, was part of my real job.

I flicked my fingers and wrapped myself in a light perception-dampening spell. The Chancellor's ornate uniform shifted into a plain linen shirt and a worn leather vest: the look of an ordinary wandering merchant, hauling his wares across the continent.

I set ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠off down the dusty road toward the rural village at the foot of the mountain.

The moment I stepped into the village, a wave of noisy, bustling energy hit me.

Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang—!

The cheerful ring of hammers carried through the air, and cowbells jingled along the dirt road as oxen pulled loaded carts. Stone walls that had once crumbled now stood neatly rebuilt, and in the fields, people bent at the waist, diligently planting seeds.

At the center of the village square, a flag I'd issued three years ago snapped vigorously in the wind.

It was the slogan of the New Empire Movement — a campaign I'd rammed through like a madman in the aftermath of the Century War, modeled after Korea's Saemaul Undong. The state provided seeds and farming tools, and any village that pulled itself up by its own bootstraps received double the incentives: a policy designed to spark competition.

The results had been staggering. Commoners who had once been listless and broken by the horrors of war found their eyes lighting up the moment they saw results drop into their hands.

The people of this rural village had long since forgotten defeat and despair. They were sweating in earnest — not just to survive, but to live better.

Excellent. Thanks to the New Empire Movement, even a backwater village like this is overflowing with life. Plenty of people out here working hard.

War left scars, but people found a way to live. Give them hope as fertilizer, and they grew like weeds. This was the will of humanity.

A swell of pride filled my chest — as a human being, and as Chancellor. Every stamp I'd pressed onto documents through sleepless nights was being proven right by the landscape in front of me.

Grrrk—

I'd been teleporting around all day forcing interviews, and my stomach was completely empty. I turned my steps toward the largest, busiest inn-and-tavern in the middle of the village.

Creeeak—

"Welcome! Sit anywhere that's free!"

The moment I opened the door, the smell of roasting meat and rich stew washed over me. The inside of the tavern was packed wall to wall. It looked like every able-bodied man and merchant in the village had crowded in here.

I managed to claim an empty table in the corner and looked around. I'd been wondering how the innkeeper could possibly handle this many people — and then my gaze snagged on one spot, and the question vanished.

What's with that girl?

What had caught my eye was a young woman in an apron, ferrying trays.

"Tom! Here's the roasted potatoes and two beers you ordered! Your back must be killing you from the field work today, so I packed those beers extra full on the house!"

"Hahaha! That's our Marie, all right!"

She was flying around the tavern like a butterfly, a heavy wooden tray in each hand.

"Auntie Hilda! I put less salt in the stew today and let it simmer longer. You said your stomach was bothering you last week, remember? Take your time with it!"

"Oh my, you remembered that? Thank you, Marie."

She couldn't have been more than twenty. Brown hair tied back tight, not a single piece of jewelry on her. A modest linen dress and a stained apron. And yet even that unremarkable outfit couldn't hide how stunning she was.

It wasn't just that her face was pretty. The very air she gave off was different.

A clean, efficient work ethic that knocked down a flood of orders without a single mistake. A delicacy that remembered every villager's name and preferences even through the clatter of dishes, serving each of them something tailored. The way she snapped her wrist to set down a scalding stew pot spoke of the kind of kitchen mastery you only got from someone who'd maxed out the "running a restaurant" skill tree.

And even in those rough motions — hauling cheap beer mugs, wiping away sweat — there was a strangely unshakable, upright grace.

No wonder. So that's why this inn is packed to bursting.

Every young man in the village had his eyes glued to that bright, easy smile. I propped my chin on my hand and watched her path through the room with close attention.

She wasn't arrogant like Rosalyne, the duke's daughter. She wasn't calculating like Vivian, the merchant's girl. She was simply quiet and diligent, and a genuine way of treating people radiated from every inch of her.

Thud—

In that instant, my entertainment-producer instincts started screaming alarms inside my skull.

I was going to wrap the cast at ten people, but...

It had been a perfectly set board. Ten men and women — glamorous, fake, and driven by crystal-clear agendas.

But what if I tossed a gemstone that clear and that solid right into the middle of that mud pit of a set?

When Rosalyne, who'd never gotten a drop of water on her hands in her life, was floundering on meal duty — and this girl rolled up her sleeves and whipped up a perfect meal. When nobles and merchant heirs, used to suspecting and guarding against everyone, started to waver at a smile that offered unconditional kindness and sincerity?

"That's insane."

The words slipped out of my mouth before I knew it.

A wild card of irresistible charm, the kind of girl who would flip a dating show's entire board on its head. The final masterpiece I'd been searching for and could never find!!

I shot up from my seat. And I stepped into the path of the girl heading for the kitchen, both hands full of empty dishes.

"Hey."

At my call, the girl blinked her round eyes and looked up at me. Clear, transparent brown.

"Yes, sir! Would you like to order? You must be new here! The venison stew came out especially good today. I'd recommend that!"

Talking to her confirmed it. This girl was the masterpiece I'd been looking for. She had to be on the show.

"Would you happen to be available for an interview?"

This season of Imperial Men and Women was going six-on-six.