I'll Become Nordia's Nightmare
I'll Become Nordia's Nightmare
Getting promoted to major in an occupied territory felt like a dream.
If I had to classify exactly what kind of dream it was, it was closer to a nightmare.
What was even more horrifying was that the chain of events I was currently experiencing wasn't even a nightmare.
It was reality.
"Congratulations on your promotion, Major Daniel Steiner."
Lucy's voice echoed hollowly inside the office.
"As you are aware, General Headquarters has entrusted you with the position of temporary garrison commander. The division commander is leading the troops out of the city, so you will now be responsible for managing it."
I knew. I could see it right now through the office window: the armored division's tanks and field guns were leaving the city alongside the soldiers.
Heinrich, who had pinned the major's badge on me, was also in the middle of moving out, leading his brigade.
I never imagined that today of all days would be the day they joined the northern front lines.
'Isn't this a bit too much? Handing over the garrison commander position on the very day you leave!'
I wanted to protest, but even if I shouted here, Heinrich wouldn't hear me.
A sigh escaped me involuntarily.
"...How many troops did the division leave behind for me?"
"Battalion-level strength. Total personnel: 950."
If there was a silver lining, it was that the division had left a battalion close to maximum authorized strength.
Nordia wasn't a very large city, so this many troops would be enough to maintain public order.
But that wasn't the real problem.
'I unintentionally racked up way too much combat merit.'
The combat merits I had racked up in so short a time had resulted in a special promotion to major.
It meant I had become a field-grade officer with vastly amplified authority, incomparable to company-grade officers.
This news would soon reach the Allied Nations, and then I would be branded as a 'core member of the Imperial Army's leadership.'
It meant that the moment the Empire lost the war, I was fated to vanish as dew on the execution grounds through a war crimes tribunal.
'In that case, should I bet on the Empire winning?'
No. The odds of that were low, far too low.
If it were a one-on-one total war, there was no nation in this era that could defeat the Empire.
But war wasn't a fair competition fought with a referee in a ring.
The fact that the Allied Nations had drawn the Kingdom into an alliance was proof of that.
The Empire, enraged at the Kingdom for failing to remain neutral, was swinging its iron mace right now—but what would happen if the Kingdom, struck by that mace, collapsed while bleeding out?
The great powers would think: 'Will the Empire become the hegemon at this rate?'
Fearing exactly that, they would start rushing to lend their strength to the Allied Nations.
Representative examples were the Sochiallis Republic in the south and the Beleka Federal State situated in the northeast.
The moment they jumped into the war, a world war would begin to materialize.
It meant the Empire would suddenly have to face the Republic, the Federal State, and the Allied Nations on three fronts—excluding the sea.
Betting on the Empire's victory in that war situation was no different from the mindset of a gambler staking his life on a reverse bet.
'The stake is my life. So I must be cautious...'
Things had gotten tangled up in many ways, but nothing fundamentally changed.
Unless the Empire somehow experienced a string of luck absurd enough to reverse the unfavorable war situation to come.
Realistically, I had no choice but to find a way to escape the Empire somehow.
'Though, of course...'
Now that my name value had risen, I wouldn't be able to defect through conventional methods.
It was questionable whether they'd even accept me, and even if they did, it didn't seem likely they would guarantee my personal safety.
But if I proposed a deal that the Allied Nations side absolutely could not refuse, the story would be different.
"Major?"
Startled, I flinched and turned around, having been running through various possibilities in my head.
Lucy was quietly blinking her red eyes as she looked at me.
I had momentarily forgotten that Lucy was an Allied Nations spy.
Now that I had been promoted to major, the probability of assassination seemed to have gone up.
As I was breaking into a cold sweat from some inexplicable anxiety, Lucy tilted her head.
"I apologize for interrupting you while you are deep in thought, but I believe it is time to start formulating a city plan."
"Ah. Right."
Letting out a dry cough, I clasped my hands behind my back as naturally as possible and spoke.
"A city plan mostly boils down to public security, doesn't it? We can focus patrols on the main streets where crime occurs. Administration can follow existing customs..."
I stopped mid-sentence.
It was because I felt like I understood why Lucy had deliberately emphasized the city plan.
"...Don't tell me the administration is paralyzed?"
Lucy nodded.
"That is correct. Not only did the majority of civil servants escape via fishing boats, but high-ranking officials such as the mayor have also all fled the war and defected."
"You're saying we have to rebuild the administrative system."
After thinking for a moment, I spoke.
"Restoring the bare minimum of public services is crucial. Release military supplies to carry out food distribution, recall any remaining doctors to revitalize medical services. Public security will be maintained through cooperation between the garrison and local police. Additionally..."
I paused in the middle of laying out my points.
Should I really be diligently carrying out the mission of 'temporary garrison commander' ordered by General Headquarters?
If they judged my operational execution capability to be excellent, I might end up being stuck handling this kind of work on the front lines indefinitely.
I already had to endure assassination threats in the Imperial Capital—performing operations in a distant, foreign land? That was no different from increasing my chances of dying.
'In that case...'
It might already be too late, but it was right to struggle to lower my performance evaluation as much as possible, even now.
Let me think this over.
If I revived the city administration in the wrong direction, citizen discontent would explode—and if that discontent led to protests or riots, it would be the same as exposing my incompetence.
Then Headquarters would determine that I was not fit for the garrison commander post.
They would appoint a replacement garrison commander to take over as fast as possible and send them here, which would also shorten the time until I returned to the Imperial Capital.
Lowering my evaluation and hastening my return—killing two birds with one stone!
'Good.'
Having finished my thought, I smiled faintly and spoke.
"Conscript those without special occupations and assign them military duties. A battalion-level force alone is short on manpower. They will understand if you order them to assist the garrison and take on miscellaneous tasks."
Being forced to assist the enemy garrison and perform military labor? Discontent was guaranteed to explode.
It wouldn't just be the conscripted laborers themselves, either—their families and acquaintances would share the discontent.
"Also, we will need to re-measure the city's tax rates. What are the current rates?"
"We do not know. It seems they had anticipated defeat; the civil servants burned all related documents and fled while defecting. However, we could get a rough idea by conducting a survey."
"No. There's no need."
This actually worked out better.
It meant I could levy taxes however I pleased.
"Effective immediately, a 30% income tax will be imposed on the citizens of Nordia under the pretext of raising war funds. For high-income earners, impose a rate of up to 50%."
The Empire's current base income tax for laborers was 22%.
Considering we were at war, that was on the low side, but given it was originally only 12%, it had already gone up significantly.
Naturally, discontent over the increased tax rate was already trickling out bit by bit, even within the Imperial Capital.
So setting the base income tax at 30%, while drawing a clear distinction from the Empire? Discontent would inevitably run rampant.
"Furthermore, post recruitment notices to select competent individuals to make up for the shortage of administrative personnel. However, select them based not on the Kingdom's standards, but strictly on the Empire's standards."
Eliminate the Kingdom's existing customs from the civil servant selection process.
It was essentially a form of cultural suppression.
This, too, would be enough to trigger the Kingdom citizens' discontent.
Having heard everything I said, Lucy gave a light salute.
"I will relay these matters immediately."
I accepted the salute, then turned around and looked out the window again.
The Empire's Mage Armored Division was almost entirely out of the city.
I could see citizens standing in the streets, watching the spectacle with unprecedented emotions on their faces.
Looking at the citizens, I felt a little sorry.
'I'm sorry, citizens of the Kingdom. Life is going to get a bit more grueling from now on.'
But there was no malice in this.
Because this was, ultimately, something I had set in motion in order to survive.
*
Late at night.
A tavern basement, the secret society Black Bird council.
"As you all know, Nordia has fallen into the hands of the Imperial bastards."
At the words of the middle-aged man seated at the head of the table, everyone nodded grimly.
Hamtal, the dark-skinned leader of the Black Bird, continued speaking amidst the gloomy atmosphere.
"It has already been ten years since we began fighting for freedom and equality. We have been through countless things in that time, but I believe the pain of losing a city to war is a first for us all."
Hamtal slammed the table with force. Kung!
"But we have not given up on the city yet! If we eliminate that brutal Daniel Steiner, we may reclaim it! Is that not so?!"
Well said! Voices of agreement rang out from all around in response to Hamtal's cry.
Hamtal, who had been looking upon their resolution with satisfaction, turned his gaze toward the sound of the door flying open.
It was Tarki, a young man acting as an informant for the secret society Black Bird.
He was holding a bundle of documents in his hand.
"Members of the secret society! The garrison side announced its city plan today!"
"That bastard finally...! Tell us, go on."
It was a given that the garrison commander would toy with the city as he pleased.
As mutterings flowed out from all sides, Tarki looked at the documents in his hand and opened his mouth.
"W-Well, first, they say they will impose military duties solely on the unemployed."
"They expect us to work for the Empire?! How absurd! What is the citizens' reaction?"
"Uh... the reaction isn't bad. They say they'll pay proper wages, and since it's based on Imperial standards, it works out to twice the average laborer's wage when you factor in the exchange rate. So applicants are springing up in droves."
They were paying properly? At the unexpected answer, a silence fell over the assembly while Tarki continued.
"Next is the tax rate."
"Ha! The tax rate! There was no way they wouldn't touch it. How much did those scumbags raise it?"
"Well, you see... they say they will impose a base income tax of 30% and up to 50% for high-income earners. They actually lowered the tax rate."
At that, the secret society members could only blink in a daze.
The Kingdom's existing tax rate had been a base income tax of 45%, with high-income earners paying up to 70%.
There had even been signs it would rise further because of the war, so the citizens were truly on the verge of dying out.
And yet, the garrison commander, Daniel Steiner, had reduced those tax rates.
While the society members were at a loss for words, Tarki scratched his cheek and spoke.
"Lastly, regarding civil servant selection... they say they'll recruit based on Imperial standards, not the Kingdom's."
"Now they finally show their true colors! Are they saying they'll only select talents loyal to the Empire?!"
"Mmm. No, that's not it. They eliminated all the pointless bonus points that were in the Kingdom's civil servant selection criteria. For instance, bonus points given for noble lineage."
Which meant they were saying they would appoint talents based purely on ability.
Having heard every last word, the society members glanced at each other and swallowed dryly.
Originally, this was supposed to be the moment when the embers of revolution should ignite—but everyone just sat there, unable to open their mouths like a mute who had eaten honey.
Within the silence that persisted for a good while, the man whose robe was pulled down low over his face spoke with difficulty.
"I'm not entirely sure if I should say this, but..."
The man, fidgeting with his hands, looked over at Hamtal.
"...Hasn't life become better than before?"
Quite ironically, no one could refute the man's words.