The Maid Recruitment Exam (1)
I had no choice but to live out this second life I’d somehow managed to receive in this world.
I’d poured eight years of genuine affection into playing it, yet even at the end I was just another ordinary gamer who’d glimpsed nothing but the backsides of the characters.
So my goal was simple: steer this Layton Ducal House and the Hernea Empire it belonged to just far enough away from the apocalyptic tide that would have swallowed everything.
In truth, the moment I’d turned five and finally felt my body obey my will, I had already mobilized every scrap of information I knew to block off almost every misfortune that could have come.
But why…
Why had four of the world’s final bosses—the Calamities known as Remnants of Creation—actually submitted applications to serve in the Layton household?
I hid the grief I felt with perfect ease among the ordinary applicants, stole a quick glance at the four Calamities still squabbling among themselves, let out a long sigh, and covered my eyes with my right hand.
“Today looks like it’s going to be a real pain.”
***
Walking down the long corridor of the ducal mansion, my mind screamed and screamed with worry.
Only about thirty minutes remained until the first stage of the Maid Recruitment Exam.
I had to come up with some kind of trick before then.
“Even if the happy ending is just around the corner, I can’t allow any variables.”
Reaching one last decision, I knocked twice on the door of the study where the Duke was staying and stepped inside.
Both Father, Duke Karsian Layton, and my elder brother, the heir Arzen, set their pens down at the same moment.
“Father, Brother, I’m sorry to disturb you during your busy moment, but I have something I need to say.”
“Oh… our second son is here again. Come in, come in. You’re the first to visit us like this in ages.”
The Duke rose from his chair with the terrifying speed of someone who could sense a visitor’s identity and wipe away all fatigue in an instant, while Arzen beamed and pointed toward the sofa.
I stood instead of sitting and went straight to the point.
“Before the first test begins, may I first screen out a few applicants who don’t meet my standards?”
My blurted suggestion received nothing but hearty laughter from my father.
“Of course! Looks like my second son saw something again.”
“Of course I’ll follow my brother’s opinion. It’s only right to have him personally select our employees. I’m truly grateful, Brother.”
Their reactions were so warmly supportive it was almost absurd.
…When I thought about it, of course they would be.
For nearly twenty years I had poured the original novel’s knowledge into enriching the ducal house.
I had bought up wasteland long before it became valuable, discovered marble mines, loaned money to collapsing merchant guilds, and turned them into continent-recognized trading houses.
Everything I knew about the future had poured immense wealth and power into the Layton family, so from their perspective my eye was no different from an absolute divine oracle.
‘Feels pretty good to be recognized… Not really.’
“Ha, thank you. Then I’ll handle it from here.”
“Are we starting already? Why don’t you take some tea while you’re at it.”
“You know, for the final grand plan there’s no time for idleness.”
“True… Then keep up the good work today.”
“Thank you.”
After leaving the study I immediately headed to the waiting area where applicants for Layton servants were gathered.
I had to quietly turn them away before they entered the mansion.
The moment those Calamities stepped foot inside the ducal residence, my peaceful second life would be obliterated.
I steeled my resolve once more and quickened my steps.
The moment I opened the door to the waiting room, the noisy chatter vanished as if someone had flipped a silent switch.
I took several pre-prepared pouches from my pocket, placed them on the desk, and spoke.
“Anyone whose name I call, please come forward and receive the pouch. Unfortunately, this decision has been made because you do not match the qualities the ducal house seeks. The pouches contain no small amount of compensation, so don’t feel too slighted.”
To avoid suspicion I deliberately mixed the names of ten ordinary applicants.
Those who couldn’t read and were only blinking at me took one look at the generous amount inside the pouch, bent their waists in unison, and left the waiting room without a word.
Once the atmosphere had settled, I slowly approached the next person.
A beautiful woman with jet-black hair and a few strands of white woven in harmoniously.
The madwoman known as the Fallen Sword Saint in the original timeline, who had hunted every swordmaster on the continent—Seres.
“Miss Seres, was it?”
She answered with nothing but two nods.
Even in this situation… up close she looked truly insane.
The features peeking from beneath the meticulously tied-up hair were more dazzling than could ever be real.
So for a moment I wondered if this really was the Fallen Sword Saint, but the hands she offered were callused—yet she wore pure white gloves.
Most of all, her otherworldly aura that I could barely sense despite her not being a top-tier expert refused to be hidden.
She had simply not fallen yet, thanks to the world’s change.
She was clearly a dangerous existence.
I had no choice but to send her away.
I stared into her unreadable eyes for a moment, then spoke.
“I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid you’ll have to leave. As you can see, your appearance is far too striking for a maid position.”
“……”
It was a flimsy excuse at best.
But in a normal noble house it was common to turn away applicants whose looks might attract unwanted attention from the master. The justification was solid enough.
Seres, however, didn’t even twitch an eyebrow.
Instead, as if she had predicted the refusal, she pulled a gorgeously sealed red-wax envelope from her pocket and held it out.
‘… A letter?’
I accepted the envelope while trying to suppress my unease.
And the moment I opened it, my mouth fell open of its own accord.
To the great Duke of the Layton Ducal House, who has silenced the rough winds of the continent. I, the insignificant First Khan Bert, humbly offer my greetings…
The man who had united every nomadic tribe of the northern continent by force and founded a new kingdom.
A recommendation letter personally written by the brand-new variable, the First Khan Bert, who had not appeared even a single line in the original novel.
Every line dripped with self-deprecation and a sincere plea for me to take Seres in.
‘She’s not from a nomadic tribe… why would she carry something like this?’
My head spun.
She wasn’t a common noble either; a foreign royal had sent it.
And it was the personal recommendation of the continent’s greatest expert, the Khan who was supposedly the Emperor’s closest confidant and whom he was desperately trying to court.
If I turned her away, diplomatic trouble with the imperial family was as good as guaranteed.
Even if the empire was still a paper tiger, diplomatic issues could never be allowed to escalate.
I pressed a hand to my forehead and let out a small sigh.
“Huu… Understood. Miss Seres is accepted.”
I had no choice but to let one through.
I crumpled the recommendation letter in my fist and turned my gaze to the second applicant sitting right beside me.
‘Time to deal with the rest.’
There stood the Archer of Grudge, the High Elf of the noblest bloodline who would inherit all the grudges of every heterogenus race and grow stronger for it—Erinea.
Except now she had no reason to hold a grudge.
Because I had already dismantled the Western Kingdom Alliance from within, using the original novel’s knowledge and the ducal house’s vast resources, long before they could have massacred the heterogenus races.
Thanks to that, she was nothing more than an ordinary elf wearing the title of continent’s strongest archer.
‘But why the hell did she suddenly show up… Do they already know I destroyed the Western Kingdom Alliance?’
A chill ran down my spine, but I recovered my composure instantly.
‘No way.’
I’d never left even a speck of dust. I’d created the Phantom Guild, laundered money through back-alley guilds and mercenary bands, and funded armies.
I stared straight into Erinea’s face.
Her blue eyes were fixed on some point in empty space, and her expression was utterly indifferent to the world.
She clearly didn’t think she was here to repay any kindness.
In that case, the odds of her being sent away were much higher.
“Miss Erinea, you’re the same as before…”
The instant I opened my mouth to come up with another excuse, Erinea rose as if she had been waiting for it, pulled a letter sealed with the scent of deep forest from her pocket, and offered it to me without hesitation.
Her calm gaze as she looked down at me without taking back her hand made me uneasy. I unfolded the paper.
To the noble duke of the Layton Ducal House, whose blood flows with the breath of nature. The King of Peren sends his regards. This child is the most beautiful and pure elf I have ever met, so please keep her by your side…
An official recommendation letter sent by the King of Peren, the country that had absorbed the remnants of the former kingdom alliance and gathered the heterogenus races’ wishes.
And just like the Khan’s, it was so overly formal that refusal was impossible.
The situation had spiraled into something ominous, and dark thoughts naturally rose in my mind.
‘… No way the last two are the same, right?’
“Understood. Miss Erinea is also accepted.”
I wiped away the ominous feeling as best I could, telling myself there was no way, and slowly approached the remaining two Calamities.