Chapter 8
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Knight Department Dismissal
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“Richi. What field in the administrative side are you thinking about?”
The professor in charge of freshman counseling asked the question, and I answered without a moment's hesitation.
“I'm very interested in the flow of resources in the Empire.”
“Hmm. So you're thinking about the Finance Ministry?”
“Not sure if I could even become a civil servant there, but if possible, that's what I'd like.”
I pride myself on being pretty quick with numbers. That's why I chose something money-related.
I just want to flop around at home, sucking down honey like crazy.
But we're the Reinhardt family—no can do.
Above all, I need to at least earn my keep if I want to slack off without catching flak.
After mulling it over every which way, I figured snagging a decent government post was the best bet.
Namely, Operation: “Hey, I'm a civil servant working for the Empire too!”
“Not a bad choice. The Finance Ministry's always short-staffed and desperate for bodies.”
“...”
Professor. That sounds an awful lot like “Pick somewhere else before you get screwed.” It's not, right?
Shit. Short-staffed means they grind the hell out of whoever's left.
Should I bail on the Finance Ministry civil servant plan right now and look elsewhere?
“Any interest at all in the War Ministry or the military?”
“None whatsoever.”
Absolutely, never, no way in hell. Military-related stuff? Hard pass.
The second I step foot there, the comparisons get way too ridiculous.
Former Field Marshal Excellency, current Marshal Excellency, youngest Division Commander ever... Just imagining it is nightmare fuel.
I shot back without even 0.1 seconds of hesitation, and the professor let out a heavy sigh.
Did I come off too blunt and throw him off? Should've at least pretended to mull it over for a second.
“...Unexpected. With the Koenihesen Empire still kicking and their puppet states hanging around.”
“Even so, they can't threaten the Empire anymore. They're not the monsters they used to be. Meanwhile, our alliance is rock-solid, and we've got plenty of seasoned troops and officers.”
“And our command structure blows theirs out of the water, to boot.”
I deliberately skipped that point, but he brings it up anyway.
Obvious. Probably something like “Thank goodness for Marshal Excellency” or “The 1st Cavalry Division's our backbone.”
It's family talk, so it doesn't rub me the wrong way, but it's still burdensome.
It's basically asking sideways, “You're a direct Reinhardt—why dodge military work?”
“Well, anyway, got it. Finance Ministry it is. Hmm, I've got an old classmate who's a bureau chief there. I'll introduce you sometime—give it your best shot. Prep well for the exams.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Oh, and just in case... if you're interested in grad school...”
Pretend I didn't hear that last bit. Nearly made me yank out what few hairs he had left myself.
“Done?”
Enter waved lazily as I stepped out of the professor's office.
“Your face says you got the grad student pitch too.”
“Something like that. Nearly turned that bald-ass prof back into active duty myself.”
“Oh. I was thinking teacup to the dome.”
Figures. Grad student bullshit is the same everywhere.
“But seriously, you're not doing military stuff? Not even the War Ministry—”
“If you'd brought that teacup, it'd be your thick skull first, Enter.”
“Hey, why! I'm just offering solid advice!”
“I said no. I absolutely, positively do not want anything military-related.”
It's not just because I possessed this guy right before discharge, or the pressure.
The Empire's got total war superiority now.
No more of that razor-edge crisis from decades ago when the Empire nearly crumbled.
All that's left is slowly choking out the Koenihesen bastards and their puppets.
“Won't be long. Ten years tops.”
I vaguely remembered overhearing Father and Brother talking about it once.
One's the Imperial Marshal and Allied Forces Supreme Commander. The other's the Empire Army's spearhead.
If the Empire's key figures say ten years, it's ten years.
The war ends then. With the Empire's overwhelming victory.
Which means massive military restructuring right after.
The top staff and officer spots are already a total bloodbath.
No standout talent like mine? Zero appeal.
And even if I squeezed in, how do I survive later? Not like it's a lifetime gig.
Better to plant myself early in some post-war hotspot that'll need bodies.
“Shame.”
“Shame my ass. What, hoping I'd pull strings for you if I joined up?”
“Huh? Yeah, maybe? Sounds pretty good, actually.”
Good my foot. We're both in Administrative Department—same desk-jockey slaves—what's he on about?
You're not Officer Department. We're the official slaves rolling at desks together.
“Truth is, I'm thinking of switching to Officer Department.”
“...Huh?”
Did I hear that right? Switching departments?
I didn't hesitate—grabbed Enter by the collar on the spot.
“Gah! W-what?!”
“Traitor! What happened to our oath to become Empire bureaucrats together?! Our Peach Blossom Oath under the flowers?! Traitors get only death!”
“Quack! W-wait! And what the hell's this peach blossom crap!!”
It exists, whatever. Doesn't change that you're a traitor!
The guy who swore to become bureaucrats with me—what? Officer Department? Military? Kyaaah!!
“No, dude! Richi! Hold up! Hear me out! Ack?”
“Nothing to hear. Not enough slack for traitor excuses!”
“H-hah, I surrender! Surrender!!”
Enter frantically tapped out in my headlock, admitting his betrayal.
You bastard. Who filled my head with bureaucrat dreams?
And now suddenly “Huh, officers ain't so bad”?
Feel like choking him out, but he's a friend—I'll hold back.
“Spill it proper. We just entered Administrative Department—why the sudden Officer switch?”
“Well... they said keep it secret, but...”
I casually raised a fist, and Enter yelped, shrinking back.
Yeah, kind words plus a friendly fist work wonders.
“T-truth is! I overheard something by chance!”
“What miracle convinced the bureaucrat-pusher to eye the military?”
“They say Koenihesen's holding out longer than expected. And our side needs a breather too. Thought the war'd end soon, but nope...”
“So military's easier for promotions, got it?”
Sigh. Enter, oh Enter, my poor friend. Where'd you hear that crap?
War dragging on? Bull. You got scammed.
Empire Marshal and our army's spearhead said ten years max.
Post-war demobilization hits quick—military my ass!
“...Richi.”
“What.”
“...Nothing?”
Enter peeked at me cautiously before asking.
Probably sensed something off from my sigh and tongue-click.
“Why assume what you heard might be wrong?”
“Well... military stuff, you'd know more than me... But your vibe screams ‘Sigh, how do I save this deluded fool?’”
“...”
“I got scammed...?”
“Good you realized now. Dumbass.”
Enter, my friend. You and me? Destined for civil servant life, Empire bureaucrat.
Spend rumor time in the library cramming one more character.
Study like that and pass civil service? Mama's heartbroken.
I soothed Enter's rage at getting duped.
World's like that. Deception, survival of the fittest. Your fault for biting!
“Wahhh. My only friend is you, Richi.”
“Good you know. Now, time to really give our all in Administrative—”
“Richi—!”
Huh. Wagner-senpai. Oh, senpai, that music you hooked me up with was great...
“You bastard!!”
“Gahk!”
Wagner-senpai's kick was brutal. Bones-deep chill...
“H-hold up! Why kick first thing?!”
“You think you look kickable?! Because of you!!”
So what'd I do?! I'm innocent!
“Damn it! That piece you asked me for!”
“W-what about it?!”
“Don't know how, but War Ministry heard it—public affairs chief showed up himself! Said Knight Department tipped him off. Knew it was your composition! Asking if I'd make march tunes or military songs on the spot, offering a spot in public affairs—what now?!”
Wait. Isn't that good? Free civil servant gig?
War Ministry's the hottest spot in the Empire right now! Wagner-senpai, living the dream!
“Your face!! I want pure music! Military songs? Marches? No! I want to move the Empire's people—that's my dream! Dragged into the military for weird army tunes? Hell no, not even over my corpse!!”
Ah. Aah. Got it. Same as me—no military.
“Don't know. Tried to keep it small, but it blew up—shit! No clue anymore!”
“Don't know what?”
“What else! Told 'em straight-up you requested it! Hahaha!!”
“...”
Y-you, you traitor! Sold me out to save your skin! Uwaaaah!!