The Corpse That Defies the Natural Order - 1
What is now called the Mukgwangdae—transferred over to the Ministry of Special Affairs—used to be the Audit Department’s 4th Division. Of the five divisions in the Audit Department, it was the one most specialized in raw force, and the division both the Minister and I had once belonged to. The post the family head had supposedly prepared for me four years ago had been in the 4th as well. They had poured so much into combat capability that the division could even be thrown into actual wars.
As if the family head would ever have arranged a normal post for me.
There was no chance that dyed-in-the-wool imperialist would ever set me up somewhere I could comfortably coast. I simply hadn’t realized it at the time. In any case, the Audit Department, the 4th Division especially, and finally my own official career had been twisted into the most spectacular knots imaginable. That wasn’t me speaking from spite—objectively, my luck in the bureaucracy had been warped from the moment I was born.
From its founding right up to the present day, the Audit Department had been openly treated as the Emperor’s hunting dogs. People even eyed it with suspicion, wondering why a bureau like that was under the Ministry of Finance instead of the Ministry of Special Affairs, where the Emperor’s direct organs were gathered.
Calling it an imperial direct bureau while sandwiching the Minister of Special Affairs between the Emperor and the department itself made for a ridiculous chain of command, yet by its very nature the Audit Department belonged under Special Affairs, not Finance. The problem was that the first button had been fastened a little wrong.
The Audit Department had been established roughly a hundred years earlier. Back then the imperial authority did not crush the divine authority the way it did now. As a result the nobles were wary of any expansion of the Ministry of Special Affairs—the Emperor’s personal limbs—so the Emperor of that era had hidden his small, precious weapon inside the Ministry of Finance.
They did need a department that could impose sanctions over budget matters, at least.
That had been the official pretext for founding the Audit Department, and because a consensus that such a bureau was necessary had already existed, it launched successfully. Then the Emperor turned it into a pure combat unit focused not on “monitoring the flow of money” but on “sanctions.”
The nobles whose skulls got cracked by the Emperor’s little flaming club finally shuddered and cursed, That bastard’s at it again, but dismantling a department is twice as hard as creating one. So the Audit Department survived to this day and remained a favorite weapon of the throne.
Anyone could see it had been created so the Emperor could smash the nobility, and its character had specialized in violence. That was why, prestige aside, it was treated as a non-mainstream group inside the Ministry of Finance. To the intellectual main line of Finance who handled money all day, the Audit Department reeked of blood.
Consequently it had become custom for Audit officials to retire after reaching the post of Audit Department Chief, or else to transfer into Special Affairs, the War Ministry, or the military. That custom had shattered only two years earlier. Right after the Crown Prince’s investiture, he had promoted the then-4th Division Chief—now the Minister—and me, then a team leader under her, to Audit Department Chief and 4th Division Chief respectively.
Up to that point there had been no problem. The Minister had been quietly pleased, planning to make the Chief’s post her final career step before retirement, while I had already been mentally packing for a dash into the military. The Duke of Victory had told me he would take me the moment I showed up in person.
That bastard Crown Prince.
The trouble erupted when the Crown Prince began purging the Second Prince’s faction. Wanting to seize both Finance and the Audit Department, he decided to plant his own hands in key posts—and those hands were the Minister and me. Less than a fortnight after our promotions we were hit with another round of promotions, a complete disaster.
Unprecedented rapid advancement, an unprecedented takeover of Finance by the Audit lineage. Naturally the existing main-line factions in Finance and even inside the Audit Department itself exploded into uproar. Outwardly I fought the Second Prince’s faction; inwardly I fought Finance’s mainstream and the Audit’s own rebels. It was a brutal stretch of civil-service life.
Throughout all of it the one thing I had cherished most was the 4th Division. It had been my original home, and after it was nearly annihilated in the North I had personally rebuilt it, so affection was inevitable. Yet that carefully raised 4th Division had been sold off to Special Affairs. Apparently keeping that much combat power inside Finance was too wasteful.
“Fuck.”
The memory dragged the curse out of me. If they were going to take something, they should have taken the entire Audit Department. Why slice out only the 4th so precisely? A year ago, hearing that the 4th was being sold, I had felt pure outrage. Even the 4th Division Chief herself had hated it. She had followed me closely, after all.
The moment the Deputy Director of Information mentioned the name Mukgwangdae, a flood of hazy, shitty memories surged up. People say even sad memories turn into nostalgia with time, but honestly I never wanted the word “nostalgia” anywhere near these particular hardships.
No contact came from Villar while I walked back to the booth. Thankfully nothing had exploded in that brief window.
“Ah, hyung. You’re back?”
“Yeah. Good work out there.”
As I neared the booth I spotted Erich just passing by with a bottle of milk, so I clapped his shoulder a few times and stepped inside. Thanks to the time we had spent together in the club, we had grown close enough to exchange casual greetings—something that would have been impossible before.
Regrettably, that was still as far as it went. We had spent years being awkward around each other; expecting things to become instantly warm would have been shameless.
“Now that the Chief is here, mind if I go play for a bit?”
“Did I look like I was out playing?”
I grabbed the 1st Division Chief’s lips and twisted them for the nonsense she had just sidled up with. She was definitely human, not a beastfolk, so why did only dogshit come out whenever she opened her mouth? Please, just stay awkwardly distant from me for a few more years.
“Mmph-mmph—!”
She flailed and smacked my arm, so I tightened my grip. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes this time—must have actually hurt. As always, the 1st Division Chief looked best when she was about to cry…
“Oppa, please don’t torment her too much. Unnie has been working so hard; I think she just wants a little rest.”
Luise approached carefully from behind the thrashing 1st Division Chief. Even with her lips still pinched, the Chief shot Luise a look of pure gratitude for the defense. Oops—maybe I had made a bit too much noise.
The moment I released her, the 1st Division Chief bolted behind Luise’s back. Only her head peeked out; the sight was pathetic. A twenty-five-year-old hiding behind a seventeen-year-old…? My sour stare only made her pout harder at me.
“Chief, you really need to treasure your cute subordinates more.”
The word “mouth” almost flew out of me on pure instinct, but Luise was standing right there, so I swallowed it. The Chief grinned slyly at my reaction and patted Luise’s back.
“See? Told you the Chief is weak to you.”
“Hehe…”
Luise scratched her cheek, looking bashful. Sorry for dragging you into the middle of this mess between the two of us.
“Stop hiding behind your much younger sister and come out.”
“No.”
“Luise, could you step aside for a second?”
“Ah, yes.”
“Huh…?”
Without the slightest hesitation Luise moved out from in front of the 1st Division Chief and came to stand beside me. The Chief stared after her with a look of utter betrayal. Who is Luise closer to—me or you? That simple calculation never even crossed your mind. Defeat.
After quelling the 1st Division Chief’s three-minute rebellion, Luise’s earlier comment stuck with me, so I did grant a short break. Fair enough—if you work people hard, you ought to let them rest a little. Only inside the booth, though. No going outside.
“Is there anything more meaningless than resting at the workplace?”
She grumbled, yet still sat herself in the corner of the booth and rested. Having the talent to constantly add unnecessary remarks was a skill of sorts, I supposed.
“By the way, Chief… what did the crows say?”
The 1st Division Chief glanced around and asked in a low voice. “Crow” was the old code-word for field intelligence agents. Another of the countless traditions of the Intelligence Bureau. Being called a crow by outsiders… if people had stuck a weird name like that on me, I would have bitten my own tongue.
“You’re working with me tomorrow. I hear the Mukgwangdae is coming too.”
“Whoa, for real?”
At the word Mukgwangdae the Chief’s bored expression lit up. She must have been happy at the chance to see the old 4th Division again after so long—especially since she had been close with the 4th Division Chief.
“So what’s going on that the Mukgwangdae is showing up?”
“The Apels Revival Army is coming to the Academy tomorrow.”
“…Who?”
“The Apels Revival Army.”
At those words the 1st Division Chief’s face went blank, the exact expression of a graduate student who has just learned that the professor responsible for her is retiring. It was absurd news. Both the Director of Intelligence and I had been equally dumbfounded.
I waited quietly for her brain to reboot. Then her expression shifted into something subtle and dangerous.
There goes her achievement instinct again.
The Apels Revival Army’s last known activity was at least two hundred years ago. Naturally the 1st Division Chief had never seen them, never tortured them. A brand-new species of reactionary she had never laid hands on? Perfect fuel for her achievement instinct.
“Heeheehee…”
Whatever conclusion she had reached, she started giggling, so I quietly looked away.
The first day of the expo was over. Even though it was only the first day, the mental exhaustion already felt like three or four days had passed. Depressing.
“The 1st Division Chief was so thrilled I already know she’s going to cause chaos again.”
— Still, the 1st Division Chief does her work well, doesn’t she?
“If she couldn’t even do the work, would I have kept her next to me all this time?”
I sat on the edge of the bed with the communication orb in my hand, catching up with the Mukgwangdae Commander… the name still didn’t sit right on my tongue. With the 4th Division Chief. The call had come the moment I returned to the dormitory, as if timed perfectly.
“Having you around made things easier. Once you disappeared, the lunatics started running wild. The empty seat is too big.”
— You honor me beyond my station.
At my words the 4th Division Chief bowed her head. Her long gray hair spilled softly with the motion.
“Anyway, let’s talk again tomorrow. Around lunchtime work for you?”
— Contact me whenever it is convenient. I will answer at any hour.
“Right. Oh, and the 1st Division Chief misses you too, so if you have free time, give her a call.”
— Understood.
When the 4th Division Chief had been sold off to Special Affairs, the person who had grieved second only to me was the 1st Division Chief. Among the Audit Department’s executives the only women had been the two of them, so they had grown close. Once the 4th left, the 1st had thrown a fit about being the only woman left.
— Then I shall take my leave. It is an honor to coordinate with you once more, Chief.
The 4th Division Chief bowed again and ended the call. The longer time passed, the more I missed her. Subordinates as meticulously polite and proper as her were rare.
Remembering the hopeless trio of 1st, 2nd, and 3rd still remaining as Audit executives made me sigh automatically. Still, three lunatics balanced by three normal people counted as luck of a sort.