The Prime Minister's Calculations
The Prime Minister, Cheriot Merken, was reviewing his reports. Flanking him were the various ministers, each giving their briefings in turn. A strange tension hung over their faces. With his explosive temper, you never knew when the sparks might fly. If he took issue with something, a barrage of harsh words would come raining down.
His abilities were undeniable. But his lack of tolerance was a glaring flaw. It hadn't shown when he served as advisor to the war hero. But once that war hero ascended as the Founding Emperor and built the empire, the advisor became the center of the political world. His shortcomings naturally emerged. He excelled at pushing and supporting, but leading? That was his weakness. In politics, it was a fatal one.
"Finance Minister. What in the world is this?"
The Prime Minister flicked a document as he spoke.
"Establishing the National Tax Service within the Finance Ministry. That's already decided, so we'll move on. Dividing it into three departments? Fine, since other ministries have similar setups. But this—assigning a separate force to the Enforcement Division!"
As the Prime Minister's voice rose, the ministers glanced nervously at one another. Couldn't he soften his tone a bit? Talking like that to a minister? Do all brilliant people have to be so cantankerous?
"It's called Enforcement, but you're essentially creating an armed unit, aren't you?"
"That's—"
"You need to explain this properly. Before I report to His Majesty the Emperor that the Finance Ministry might be up to no good."
Sweat beaded on the Finance Minister's forehead. But he didn't cower. He'd already discussed this with Ethan, the one who'd proposed it the day before. What objections the Prime Minister might raise. How to respond.
"Your Excellency must know the reasons for creating the National Tax Service."
"Of course. Even with a new heaven in place, there are those clinging to their local influence, holding taxes hostage to negotiate. It's to pressure them and exercise the empire's rightful authority, isn't it?"
"Even if National Tax Service officials show up, those people won't feel much pressure."
"Defying the empire's administrative power, and they won't feel pressure? Do you think that makes sense?"
"You know as well as I do, Your Excellency. Sometimes people deny the future staring them in the face. For them, immediate force weighs heavier than future threats."
The Prime Minister glared at the Finance Minister for a moment, then let out a sigh. He understood the implication. The necessity was clear. But that didn't mean he could approve an armed unit. What guarantee was there it'd be used purely for official duties? The reason his lord had become emperor was the powerful private force that followed him. Not the soldiers or armies lent by Condor. It had been an asset then, but now, with the empire founded, it was a liability. All private forces had to be absorbed into the state.
The men who followed my current lord—no, His Majesty—during the campaigns split into two main groups. Those still serving as retainers, and those formally in the Imperial Guard. The remaining retainers were distributed from the 2nd Prince to the 5th Prince.
The 7th and 8th Princes, sons of the current Empress, were excluded. The retainers had no real loyalty to them anyway. They'd never properly met, had no ties. They were strangers. The other princes, though? They'd shared hardships with their young masters. Those retainers needed to be converted to regular army as soon as possible. Not tied to families, but loyal to the empire itself. Ready to turn their spears even on their own lords. In this situation, an armed unit in the Finance Ministry's National Tax Service? From the Prime Minister's view, it was just another headache.
"I know what worries you, Your Excellency. But collecting taxes is of utmost importance. Places needing funds keep multiplying, yet securing revenue crawls along too slowly, doesn't it?"
"Hmm."
"The local nobles' reluctance is minor. We need to survey and collect from the new territories secured by His Majesty. And what of the frontiers developed under Condor? They're empire land now, yet the settlers dare call us 'rebels' and wield their own influence."
The Finance Minister pressed on without backing down.
"On top of that, underground organizations bloated by bribes to Condor's elites. We must pressure them, drag the shadow economy into the light, and extract fair payment. Only then can those who suffered under Condor's tyranny reclaim their lives. Your Excellency."
Why had Condor fallen? Rampant tax corruption. They'd vowed to topple the corrupt and raise the just. Fail to fix even basic taxation? Rebels against the new heaven could rise again anytime. Above all, this was what his lord—the Emperor—didn't want. His rigid, unyielding nature could be frustrating at times. But his love for the people was genuine. Hadn't that drawn the Prime Minister here too?
Taxes weren't trivial. They were life and death.
Still, placing a deployable armed force outside the military is...
Suddenly, the Prime Minister paused, stroking his chin. Then, with a soft "Ah," he smiled.
"Very well, Finance Minister. I appreciate your loyal heart."
"Then..."
"I'll positively consider authorizing special personnel for the National Tax Service Enforcement Division and report it to His Majesty. Fortunately, His Majesty has many 'heroes of reversal' around him. We can use them."
"Heroes of reversal? You don't mean..."
The soldiers who'd fought alongside the Founding Emperor, sweeping battlefields. More loyal to him than anyone. They couldn't be swayed by private schemes. And for the Emperor's command, they'd do anything. Not in the military, they could be freer—perfect.
All existing private soldiers must be integrated into the regular army, used only for national duties. But in emergencies, the 8th Prince might need handling. Pulling from the army would alert the other princes' ears.
In that light, the National Tax Service Enforcement Division made an excellent smokescreen. Place soldiers who weren't quite soldiers there. Control it, and it became perfect insurance for the worst case.
The issue is that young man leading it, Ethan.
He recalled Ethan boldly opposing the Emperor's will in the council chamber. Arrogant bastard, he'd thought, mixed with grudging respect. Above all, he wasn't ordinary. Whether for the empire's people, currying favor with the people's-loving Emperor, or backing the 5th Prince over the 8th—Ethan Montebello was climbing. He knew how to raise his value. The Prime Minister knew how to handle such men. Offer support, let them move as they wished. Help staff the Enforcement Division. Extend a hand. Join us? Ethan was free to take it or not. But he'd know the consequences of refusal. The 5th Prince was impressive, but that was it. The Emperor's will was the 8th Prince. Heaven's decree. Defy it, and heavenly punishment would sweep them away. Today's power meant nothing. Tomorrow did.
Ethan Montebello. If we can sway that young man, the Enforcement Division becomes a sharp sword at our command.
Taxes were the most sensitive matter. An armed group movable on that pretext? Had Ethan foreseen even this?
Strange. He's only in his twenties, they say. But his council performance... that's no novice. That's a veteran twice his age.
Did he age alone somewhere? Ridiculous. The Prime Minister shook his head.
*
The model I had in mind for the Enforcement Division was the IRS of my old world's superpower. The situations were eerily similar. Taxes needed muscle to collect. It wasn't just stubborn nobles. From the conquered lands the Founding Emperor secured to Condor's old frontiers—too many places administrative reach hadn't touched. Polite notices wouldn't cut it there. You needed polite notices and polite spears.
But I never expected this much.
I'd figured some tough guys would suffice. Military background a bonus, but not expected. Yet the official notice delivered today went beyond.
Soldiers who'd rampaged across battlefields with the Founding Emperor. Some had moved to the Imperial Guard, but others lingered as retainers. Assigning some to Enforcement—that was the gist.
The Prime Minister decided this.
I could guess his angle. He'd realized Enforcement could be a keen blade. But it had to be the Emperor's weapon alone. Hence, loyalists to him. In a pinch, hand it to the 8th Prince as "the Emperor's will"...
He hasn't swung the sword yet, but the fight's already begun.
Above all, the Prime Minister's personal signature worried me. My intentions didn't matter anymore. The question was whose side I'd take.
That alone.
I'd wanted to watch longer before deciding, but time was short. The Prime Minister was watching me. He wanted an answer. A succession struggle. Win, live. Lose, die. Purged or victor. To avoid this storm, I had to stay sharp.