The Disciplinary Committee (4)

The moment the Emperor's herald began to read the edict, everyone gathered around erupted in cheers.

Vice Minister Bern and the department heads, by contrast, squeezed their eyes shut, their faces drained of all color.

And I was no different.

To receive the Order of Civil Merit, you needed achievements so outstanding they reached the Emperor's own ears. Ordinary civil servants, by the nature of their work, rarely had the chance to rack up anything dramatic or eye-catching. Landing one was about as likely as plucking a star from the sky.

But for me—a man whose only dream was resignation—this medal was nothing short of a shackle. After all, if anyone tried to discipline me over something the Emperor himself had praised with a medal, every last person who went along with it would have their heads chopped clean off for insulting the Imperial House.

The resignation opportunity Vice Minister Bern had so thoughtfully arranged in the form of a disciplinary committee had just gone up in smoke.

Goddamn it…!

While I was swallowing curses under my breath, Imperial Knights approached me where I knelt on one knee and held out the Order of Civil Merit.

It was a complete checkmate. I had no choice but to rise, swallowing the bitter pill with tears in my eyes.

"Ahem! I had already heard much of your renown, but to receive the Order of Civil Merit so soon after transferring to the Treasury—truly remarkable."

Marquis Cedric pinned the medal to my chest, then patted my shoulder with a look of pure satisfaction.

Remarkable, my ass. Given half a chance, I would have loved nothing more than to slap this complete stranger clean across the face.

"Had it not been for you, the people gathered here today would be holding swords and spears in their hands. Things could have gone very badly indeed. All of this is thanks to you. I hope you will continue to serve His Majesty the Emperor and the Empire with the same dedication. His Majesty himself has said he holds great expectations for you."

Whether he could read my mind or not, Marquis Cedric kept flapping his mouth as if he were having the time of his life.

"Thank you…"

But what else could I do? The man standing in front of me was one of the Empire's few marquises, carrying the Emperor's personal edict. In the end, I bit down hard on my lip and saluted him.

"Haha. Still sharp as ever. Excellent. Though now that you belong to the Treasury rather than the Intelligence Bureau, there's no need to hold a salute."

And just like that, Marquis Cedric drove the nail in for good—openly declaring that I was a Treasury man.

Damn it. No. Absolutely not. I'd rather go back to fieldwork—just send me back to the Intelligence Bureau.

Ugh. I could really go for a revolution right about now!

And so my resignation operation via the disciplinary committee dissolved into nothing.

"Tax Collector, sir! I believed in you the whole time! Justice always wins! Let's go!"

Watching Rhea bounce around in pure delight made my blood boil.

And whose fault do you think this is…!

Apparently Rhea assumed I was completely in the dark. But I already knew everything. I had even figured out that she had gone to the Traveler's Basket, persuaded Amy, and gathered the crowd herself.

Did Rhea have any idea that one wrong move could have gotten her and her entire extended family executed for treason? No, of course not. That was the only reason she could put on such a shameless face and make this much of a racket.

"The Order of Civil Merit! From now on, no one will dare lay a finger on you, sir! Oh! Are you taking it home? Personally, I think hanging it outside the office would be better…"

Personally, I'd like to hang you upside down outside the office. Good grief. I was going to lose my mind.

"Haa. Do whatever you want."

"Hehe! Thank you! Ooh! This is the very symbol of success! Ah—no, the symbol of devotion! The Order of Civil Merit!"

I sighed and handed the medal over to Rhea. She fussed over it with every ounce of drama she could muster and scrambled outside in a flurry. Moments later, the rhythmic thud-thud of a hammer driving nails rang out.

For some reason, it felt less like the hammer was hitting nails and more like it was pounding directly on my heart.

Symbol of devotion, my foot. This was all just a show for the crowd.

Rhea might not have realized it, but the Emperor hadn't awarded me the Order of Civil Merit out of genuine recognition of my achievements. If he had, he would have summoned me to the Imperial Palace and conducted the ceremony himself.

So why, of all moments, had Marquis Cedric appeared and pinned a medal on me in front of so many people? It was a performance—pure and simple—designed to soothe the enraged crowd and boost his own popularity.

Tsk. Now even the Emperor is getting involved. Unbelievable.

Honestly, of all the things that could have happened, the medal was the one I never saw coming. Medal ceremonies weren't supposed to be conducted like this—slapped together at lightning speed as if someone were roasting beans over a flash of lightning.

The timing was far too perfect.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠whole award ceremony had unfolded like a carefully written script. It was too dramatically staged to pass off as coincidence. Naturally, Intelligence Bureau agents would have been planted among the crowd. And it seemed there were agents inside the Treasury as well.

But what good did it do to dwell on any of that now? The disciplinary committee—and everything else—had already sailed clean past me.

Looks like I have to start over from scratch.

Having received a medal, I wasn't starting from zero—I was starting from negative. Even Elena, who had opposed my resignation for no good reason all this time, now had a legitimate excuse to keep blocking me.

I need to change my approach.

I decided to overhaul my strategy. Until now, I had been passively waiting for one specific incident to hand me a justification for resigning. Going forward, I would have to take the initiative.

First priority: shed this image of the righteous tax collector.

The very first thing I needed to do was reverse the positive perception people had of me into a negative one. With ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the war over, the Empire was in chaos from the postwar cleanup. The fiscal situation was a mess, of course—but today's events had made one thing crystal clear. The grievances people had rationalized and suppressed for the sake of the greater good had finally hit their limit. The war was over, so why were taxes still being collected like this? Why was life only getting harder?

Public sentiment was as fickle as a reed. If I just gave that sore spot a little poke, the same people who had been praising me would start throwing stones as if none of it had ever happened.

Yeah. That'll work.

After mulling it over, I landed on a brilliant idea. A troll move for the ages—one that history itself would never see again. A justification solid enough to have even a bestowed medal stripped away. Perfect. This would send not only the public into an uproar, but the Treasury as well. Everyone would be foaming at the mouth.

Kill two birds with one stone. Catch the crayfish while clearing the ditch. Literally a two-for-one deal.

Strike while the iron is hot. I shot up from my seat and headed straight for the Minister's office.

"What? Is that true?"

Elena, who had been toasting herself alone in the Minister's office, sucked in a sharp breath the instant I finished speaking, her eyes going wide.

She'd already gotten thoroughly wrecked by alcohol once, and here she was knocking back more of it. Well, whatever—that wasn't important right now.

"You're really saying you'll solve that problem?"

"That's right."

"But why the casual speech again? This is the workplace. Weren't we supposed to keep personal and professional separate?"

"Fine by me if you don't want it."

"No, no! Wait! I was joking! Just joking!"

The moment I pushed back even slightly, Elena tossed her glass aside and scrambled over to grab me before I could walk out the door.

"But why? You've been singing about quitting this whole time. So why are you suddenly stepping up and volunteering?"

"Haa. Does the reason really matter that much?"

"Ah, well. No, not really. I mean, I'm grateful, but…"

Elena tilted her head and stared up at me for a moment, then let out an awkward little cough and went back to sit at her desk.

"Don't tell me… receiving the Order of Civil Merit changed your mind?"

"Let's go with that."

Strictly speaking, my thinking had changed. I nodded without a shred of shame. Elena immediately started clapping, her face lit up with pure bliss.

"Yes! That's the spirit! The Treasury isn't such a terrible workplace, you know?! It all depends on how you approach it. No matter what you do, mindset is what counts, right?"

"……"

"See? Just follow the principles and a medal pops right out. What other job in the world is like this?"

Did I look like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a sucker to her? At least wet your lips before you lie.

"You're right. There's no other job in the world quite like this."

"I'm so happy you're stepping up like this on your own. Honestly, that problem has been giving me a massive headache."

"Yeah. I figured as much. It started because of me, so it's only right that I clean up after it."

"Wow. That medal really is something! Hey, neighborhood—our Rohan's a changed man!"

Uh-oh. The alcohol was starting to kick in, wasn't it? Damn it. Time to get out of here.

"So. Do I have your permission?"

Watching Elena's face grow steadily redder, I cut straight to the point. She nodded readily and gave me a thumbs-up.

"Of course! Selecting the new tax collection contractors—by the authority of the Minister, I hereby entrust the entire matter to you!"

A crooked smile tugged at my lips.

Everything according to plan.

Just you wait. I was going to assemble the most spectacularly disastrous dream team imaginable and smash the tax collection system to absolute ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pieces.