They Call Me the King of the Inspectorate - 2

Today, my world collapsed. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Or maybe yesterday.

But if the world has already fallen apart, what difference does today or yesterday make? Either way, there's no future left.

Calm down.

After a brief spell of despair I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath. Think again. A single person's world does not crumble so easily. Something like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that could never happen to me.

Right. This is a nightmare. I must have blacked out for a moment from sheer anxiety. When I open my eyes again, a perfectly ordinary personnel order will be waiting for me instead of this horror. It has to be.

"Fuck."

Opening my eyes changed nothing. If anything, resting them made the words even clearer.

I couldn't believe it. From the day it was founded roughly a hundred years ago until now, the Audit Department had remained strictly a department-level office. People had always said its authority and stature were far too grand for a mere department under the Ministry of Finance, but elevating it all the way to a full ministry was another matter entirely.

And they weren't simply changing the name. They had torn several organizations out of the Ministry of Special Affairs and fused them together as well.

At this rate it's a genuine ministry-level office.

I bit my lip without realizing it. If it had kept its old structure and only changed the name, I could have managed somehow. Protocol rank would shoot up overnight, but the actual work would stay the same.

According to this order, though, the Inspectorate Ministry about to be born might be smaller than the others, yet it was clearly evolving into full ministry size. Workload and responsibility would rise right alongside it.

I'm going to lose my mind.

A long sigh finally escaped. Youngest department chief in my teens, youngest minister in my twenties? Dig through continental history, not just imperial history. Has there ever been a precedent like this?

What the hell do I do now?

I stared blankly at the communication orb. Regular personnel transfers that you hear about in advance can still be negotiated. Emergency transfers and special transfers, once announced, are final. They are the Emperor's definitive decisions, proclaimed to every minister and official in his name, and cannot be undone.

Even if—hypothetically—there were a chance to reverse it, I doubted the Emperor would listen. He had just played the massive card of promoting a department into a ministry. Pulling it back? That was not his style. He would simply never have mentioned the promotion in the first place.

Damn it. Was this because I became a godfather? Maybe the Crown Prince's godfather being a mere department chief had rankled him, so he promoted me just to match the prestige.

Ah.

In the middle of that reasonable suspicion the communication orb suddenly flashed, making me flinch.

My hand trembled on instinct. Answering this call would bring a future that made my insides boil—I could already feel it.

"This is the Audit Department Chief."

Still, it could be Father calling about his son's promotion, or the Deputy Chief wanting to discuss the sudden departmental elevation, so I took it.

—Ah, you answered. I was afraid you'd be swamped with congratulations.

And the instant I did, I regretted it.

—Why the long face? Today's a happy day, isn't it?

Looking at the Minister of Finance smiling as if he were the happiest man alive made me want to scream.

"...Why the sudden formal speech?"

—I can hardly keep using casual language with someone about to become a minister. Naturally.

Even he seemed amused by his own words; the Minister started laughing outright.

Son of a bitch. What the hell is Enen doing letting bastards like this walk around free?

Until a few minutes ago my mood had been foul. As a servant of the crown I was glad the appearance of His Highness the Crown Prince had solidified the imperial succession, yet the early resignation of the Minister of Palace Affairs that followed was an irritation. The Minister of Palace Affairs did not simply run his own ministry; as the highest-ranking minister he guided the entire administration.

Fortunately the Imperial Household Director would handle Palace Affairs duties for the time being, but that meant I, as Minister of Finance, would have to fill the role of the administration's number one. The thought alone drew a sigh.

That sigh vanished without a trace the moment I laid eyes on a single sentence.

"Hahahaha!"

Genuine laughter burst out of me. I could not remember the last time I had laughed like this.

I had laughed from joy before, of course, but this was different. The feeling was closer to the pure delight of watching a once-in-a-generation clown. I laughed so long I barely managed to calm down.

"Pffft—"

The moment my gaze returned to the sentence, laughter exploded again, rendering my earlier composure meaningless. That a single line could hold such power was almost miraculous.

Inspectorate Ministry, huh.

I finally subdued the second wave of laughter and ordered my thoughts. The amusement I felt as that bastard's acquaintance was one thing; the concerns I had to weigh as Minister of Finance were another.

First, the fact that he was becoming a minister—and that I would get to watch him wail and rage right beside me—was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thoroughly encouraging. I was so delighted I could happily work for another ten years.

Yet the Audit Department under my wing turning into an independent ministry, and the man I had considered the leading candidate for my own successor becoming minister of a different ministry entirely, were variables I had never imagined. I already had to plug the vacancy left by the Minister of Palace Affairs; now another problem had stacked on top of it.

...I don't actually have to name the next minister myself.

At least the worry over a successor did not need to run deep. When a high official recommends his replacement, His Majesty usually accepts, but it is not obligatory. If I simply stepped down without a recommendation, the Emperor would appoint whoever he preferred.

In other words, the only regret was that the bastard would not succeed me; it was not a real problem.

Yes—better to watch him become a minister now than wait decades. I could laugh this part off.

A Ministry of Finance without the Audit Department.

What I truly needed to worry about was the disappearance of the Audit Department itself. One of the five pillars supporting the Ministry of Finance had just seceded—an unprecedented crisis.

...

It won't matter.

After careful thought, I realized we would be fine without it.

The Audit Department had only nominally belonged to Finance. In reality it was a bizarre organ that answered directly to His Majesty and meddled in every office. I had once belonged to it myself, so I knew perfectly well; even after becoming Minister of Finance I had received only pro-forma reports from them.

Once I reached that conclusion, laughter nearly erupted again. Astonishingly, the creation of the Inspectorate Ministry would have zero impact on me.

—This is the Audit Department Chief.

That was why I placed the call in such high spirits. This was a matter on which I could mock him one-sidedly without any risk of retaliation.

"Ah, you answered. I was afraid you'd be swamped with congratulations."

His expression twisted instantly at those words.

My heart grew peaceful.

"Why the long face? Today's a happy day, isn't it?"

—...Why the sudden formal speech?

"I can hardly keep using casual language with someone about to become a minister. Naturally."

Watching his face contort even further filled me with pure joy.

His Majesty had left us a magnificent gift before his abdication.

I barely managed to choke down every curse I wanted to hurl and forced out something polite instead.

"Have you lost your mind?"

Even I thought it was a gentlemanly reply. No one else in the world possessed such superhuman patience ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and mercy.

—No need to get snippy on a good day.

At last the Minister dropped the bone-chilling formal speech and returned to his usual manner.

Good day, my ass. If he had called it a thoroughly fucked day I might have agreed.

—Anyway, congratulations on becoming a minister. You were always going to be one eventually, weren't you? The only question was when.

"Even so, I expected it would take at least twenty more years! Does a minister in his twenties even make sense?!"

My heartfelt shout made the Minister's face twitch slightly. If the man still had a shred of conscience left, he would at least pity my situation—

—You thought I'd stay minister for another twenty years?

Fuck. Conscience, last shreds, none of it remained.

The Minister's thorough concern for his own skin left me speechless, yet he suddenly lifted the corner of his mouth and nodded.

—Yes, I'll probably work another twenty years or so. You, about sixty.

"Please go outside and die."

For a fleeting moment I wondered whether murdering a superior would at least get me fired from the Inspectorate Ministry and free me from the whole mess.

Please, just let me land one Sky Slash.

More conversation followed, but it only demolished my mental state one-sidedly. Ordinarily I would have managed some small counterattack against the Minister, yet no means of retaliation came to mind.

—Still, it's fortunate. Even while you're at the Academy the Deputy Chief or the Intelligence Director can serve as founding chairman. The Deputy handled all the paperwork back in the Audit Department days anyway.

On top of everything he delivered a confirmation kill with an irrefutable fact.

The founding-chairman issue had been my sole remaining hope. Creating an entirely new ministry-level office, and yet the designated chairman was outside the Imperial Capital. Returning to the capital was impossible while I was still managing foreign royalty—an important duty.

I had briefly nursed the modest hope of using that justification to hand the chairmanship to someone else or at least delay the founding schedule as long as possible.

The Minister smashed it on the spot.

...The Intelligence Director would do fine.

I still clung to the thought. Honestly he was older than me and had a longer career. Couldn't he take the inaugural post and leave the succession to me? I could accept that much.

Of course it was empty longing. This personnel order only made sense if I became the minister.

Don't cry, my inner resignation letter.

I soothed myself by watching the congratulatory messages begin to pile up on the communication orb. I was only enduring this because the Emperor had given me a massive gift during the triumphal ceremony; under normal circumstances I would already have submitted my resignation by now.

While I checked messages in turn from the Deputy Chief, the Intelligence Director, Erzebet, Penelia, and the Second Department Head, Father's message finally caught my eye.

The sincerity filling the message drew a natural smile. I especially liked the words "Minister-designate."

Then the next sentence made me doubt my eyes.

...

Title succession ceremony...?