I Want to Click Straight into Constitutional Monarchy Too
"I wanna click right into constitutional monarchy."
The true feelings I'd suppressed for nine and a half hours started bubbling up. It wasn't the kind of thing to say in this historic chamber lined with portraits of past emperors, but the agony was so intense I couldn't even imagine how my predecessors had endured it—no way I was gonna sweat the decorum.
"Hehehe... Your Majesty Aurelius the First. Do you know what 'Thai teeth' is in English?"
"...?"
"Titus! Krhehehe... Damn, why aren't you laughing?"
The portrait of the founding emperor Aurelius I seemed to grimace just a bit—nah, had to be my imagination.
"Haa... what the hell am I gonna do now? I've gone and become a real emperor."
I leaned back against the chair's headrest and stared up at the ceiling. A galactic map was painted there: the eight spiral arms of the massive 500,000-light-year Astra Galaxia rendered in exquisite detail, the Human Empire's territories glowing gold, and 48 million star systems twinkling. Each one my responsibility.
Staring at it, I muttered to myself.
"The Senate might as well not exist."
The Senate had about 3,000 seats, but it had zero real legislative power. Basically an advisory rubber-stamp crew—think cheering squad for the emperor. If he cleared his throat like "Ahem!!!", they'd all freeze; if he said, "I've played this game before!", they'd spam "lol fr".
In a system where the emperor could decree anything with a single edict, the Senate was just decorative foliage. Pretty to look at, no real impact on production or policy. Nice to have around when you're feeling good, but the house runs fine without it.
"The reformists and imperialists fight nonstop!!"
The reformists wanted more Senate power; the imperialists wanted to keep the emperor-centric status quo. Any bill, and they'd clash—no progress. The emperor had to ram it through with an edict, then the reformists would cry, "Whoa, dictatorship much? Cosplaying pre-galactic tyrants now? You Hitler or what?", while imperialists cheered, "As expected of His Majesty! Do whatever you want, Your Majesty!"
Both sides were hopeless.
"The sector governors looked pissed too..."
I recalled the governors' faces from today's audience. Primus Arm's was neutral-hold, Secondus Arm showed mild discontent, the rest wore their schemes plain as day. Imperialists would've blown a gasket—"This psycho emperor graced you with near-sovereign power over star sectors; be grateful!"—but ruling millions of star systems, no way they'd bow to a 21-year-old kid unless I was an idiot.
Honestly, 'bloodline' was the core issue. Two older sisters with impeccable legitimacy, yet I skipped them for the throne—had to sting. Plus, those governors were mini-emperors in their domains already; no wonder the suspicion ran deep. Oxysap cleanser wouldn't scrub that stain easy.
"Yeah, and the corps too."
Victoria Krupp of Stella Industries bowed deep for next quarter's arms contracts; same for the other CEOs. These capitalist scum were firing up my inner Marx to eleven, but I wasn't about to stir that pot and suffer—no thanks. The constitutional Senate would handle it anyway. Pure loyalty? Fairy-tale bullshit.
"Anyway, workload's insane, retirement's a distant dream."
That was the real killer. The empire's structure funneled everything through the emperor: military command, legislative edicts, governor appointments, final judiciary, full diplomacy. Straight-up absolute monarchy like those pre-galactic Earth dictatorships. Unless I snapped and went tyrant-mode—"I'm enacting policy here, that guy's coughing, off with his head!"—it wouldn't implode. But all on one guy? Four hours sleep a night, buried in paperwork.
I'd seen it. My father, the late Emperor Kaius VII. Immortal treatments or not, he died young. Officially illness, not overwork—but overwork sure accelerated it. I wasn't dying like that. Never.
"Gotta pump up the Senate's power under constitutional monarchy ASAP and hit auto-hunt!!"
Auto-hunt. Perfect term. Game mobs down, loot auto-picked, player free for other shit. That's what I wanted: empire on auto-pilot. Senate legislates, PM runs admin, military handles defense congrats, governors manage locals, me? Log in occasionally for status checks.
"Strong Senate, they'll handle their own drum-and-dance bullshit."
Yeah. Give 'em real power, reformists and imperialists would craft and brawl over their own policies. No more "Your Majesty, do this" or "block that." They'd propose, debate, vote among themselves. No emperor referee needed.
Healthy competition drives progress. Me playing Marx-vs-Keynes internally? Lame. Better let 1,500-vs-1,500 factions duke it out—prime black comedy, total win-win.
"They'll sort shit themselves. Not idiots enough to self-destruct, right?"
3,000 senators—sure, some deadweight, but not all. Talent's buried without power; give 'em the stage, they'll perform. Me? Director chilling in the audience, popcorn-ready for the hilarious farce.
I pulled a memo pad from the desk drawer, grabbed a pen, and started scribbling. Swing first, see what sticks.
Article 1: Grant the Senate full legislative proposal rights.
Previously, the Senate could only opine on emperor-submitted bills—like timid suggestions: "Um... how 'bout this? N-no, forget it if you don't like..." Lawmaking was emperor-only. Time to fix that for a cushier life. Let senators propose, deliberate, vote. Emperor veto remains (gotta keep a spear handy), but 2/3 override possible.
Article 2: Establish the Prime Minister position.
Senate-elected PM forms cabinet, oversees admin. Emperor just rubber-stamps; no veto without cause. Chains future crazy emperors too. 80% paperwork shifts—desk pile shrinks to 1/5. Auto-hunt engaged.
Article 3: Abolish direct sector governor appointments; switch to ratification.
Local sector assemblies nominate, Senate ratifies. Emperor stays out. Appointing 48 million personally? Insane—even rubber-stamping eats time. Reform mandatory.
Article 4: Partial military command delegation.
Tricky. Full handover risks coups. Peacetime ops to Defense Committee (Senate sub-body); emperor keeps wartime command. Halves daily briefings. Civilian control ftw.
Article 5: Enact Basic Law Guaranteeing Hetero-Species Autonomy.
Guarantee autonomy planets and Senate seats for 120 quadrillion hetero-species. Modeled on old Earth UK's Irish Home Rule. Reformists' long-time dream, delayed by dads—solid pretext, quick passage. They'll cheer, imperialists rage... but I'm emperor. Cuts fringe revolts, military spend, my headaches.
Article 6: Limit emperor's edict power to emergencies.
Peacetime edicts neutered; only on Senate emergency resolution or declared war. Self-handcuffing? Hell yeah—less work. Click!
I set the pen down. Stepped back, eyed the pad. Self-praise aside, a gasp escaped.
"Damn. I wrote it, but it's fire."
Spot-on. Every article surgically reduces my load, packaged as 'democratic reforms for the people' with radical flair. Reformists hooray, imperialists balk—but opposing the new emperor's first post-coronation policy? Smacks of treason. Perfect.
"Whoa... am I a genius?"
Just survival instinct from wanting ease, but heir training paid off. Like inventing AC or washers—pure laziness. Now designing a galactic one.
I set the pad down, hit the bathroom. Nine-plus hours of stiff face needed loosening.
"Hoo... time to splash some water."
But staring in the mirror, I froze. My reflection looked... off. Coronation fatigue? Crown weight lingering? My eyes held dual glints: one cold-sharp, one lazy-drowsy. Hardass sufferer vs. why bother, let's slack—pure Leo Astraea.
"Ah... hallucinating from exhaustion?"
Then, mirror-me spoke. 'Bad Me' first: same face, but intense eyes, straight posture, crown perched proper.
"Leo. That reform draft? Genius. But don't stop! Senate power's just step one. Economic overhaul, arms monopoly breakup, hetero-species integration fine-tuning. Sector elections alone need thousands of decrees, spiral-arm exceptions—!"
Suddenly, 'Good Me' cut in: same face, slumped pose, crown off to the side.
"Yo, chill. What're you even on? Thousands of decrees? Exceptions? You doin' that solo? You God or somethin'? Idiot, idiot."
'Bad Me' scowled. "What? Emperor means act like one—"
"Act like one how? Four hours sleep, paperwork hell? Dad died from it. Overwork, straight up. You want that?!"
"Father had illness. Overwork had nothing—"
"Bull! Twenty-hour days and body don't break? Face reality, dude. Reality!"
'Bad Me' stepped forward. "Leo, I get you want easy. But 890 trillion citizens watching. 200 trillion watched the coronation! This throne's weight—"
"Weight? Yeah, I know. But why me solo? Senate, PM, governors, generals exist—yet emperor carries all? System's broke, idiot?"
'Bad Me' faltered. Logic held.
'Good Me' straightened a tad, jabbed a finger from the mirror. "Listen up. Yeah, I'm lazy. Wanna slack? So what? System where emperor slacks and empire runs smooth—that's a good empire. One needing omnipotent emperor? Nah. Your way, every next emperor suffers to death. Sustainable?"
"No, uh... hmm."
'Bad Me' hesitated, stumped. 'Good Me' nailed it.
"Auto-hunt: I chill, empire thrives, next emperors chill. Win-win. Hustle hard? Burnout death. Burnout means next guy's screwed. Vicious cycle."
"But transition chaos—"
"Chaos? It'll come. But endure, fix system—then auto forever. Suffer now for ease later, or eternal grind. Which better?"
"Ah..."
'Bad Me' sensed defeat, went silent, nodded slowly. "...You're right."
"Yeah, my say wins?"
Total victory for 'Good Me'. I looked away, splashed water, toweled off. Glanced back: one me now. Tired, but eyes clear.
"Damn straight! Absolute monarchy? Nuts—I ain't slaving by choice! No way! In 10 years—no, 5—halve this load and peace out!"
My yell echoed in the soundproofed room, fading harmlessly. Back to the chair, re-read the draft.
"...Yeah. Can't coast overnight. Not full republic, monarchy ain't vanishing, work won't zero out—so second-best it is."
Rationalized, I started formalizing for tomorrow's Senate submission. Feel that? 890 trillion humans, 120 quadrillion hetero-species across 500,000 light-years, etching new emperor's name in their minds.
"I got this..."