The Pretty and Competent Administrator (3)
"You call him crazy?"
"Well, here's the thing."
Hamond had apparently spent the entire night tearing through City Hall, dragging out years' worth of documents and ledgers. Then, first thing in the morning, he'd summoned Hildeva and intimidated her, claiming the paperwork was in abysmal shape and that it would cause handover issues if it stayed that way.
"So, what exactly was he nitpicking?"
"Nothing major. Uneven line spacing and that sort of thing. He wouldn't have the chops to spot anything else anyway."
"Then it's not a big deal."
"That's what I thought... but actually, there is a big problem."
After making a fuss over the documents, Hamond had cracked open the city vault and counted the gold coins inside. Naturally, there was hardly any money there. He'd thrown a fit, raging about why there was so little, accusing her of siphoning it off in secret.
"Just show him the account ledgers. There's no way you embezzled anything."
"Of course not! I swear on my life, I never touched a single coin."
"So why's that a big problem?"
"He threatened to invoke retroactive tax collection rights."
Retroactive tax collection rights meant reclaiming taxes that hadn't been paid or had been exempted for some reason. It sounded absurd at first, but fifth-grade administrators and above could enforce it with proper procedures and justification—like when the city faced an emergency and needed funds urgently.
"Isn't that just Hamond trying to scare you?"
"I thought so too, but it was right there in the administrative order: 'The incoming administrator may exercise retroactive tax collection rights as needed to ensure fiscal integrity.'"
"He wouldn't actually do it, would he?"
"Who knows... The new guy's instructions were to settle the tax issues first thing, before he even arrives."
No clueless bureaucrat would pull something that stupid... Reviving a dying direct-ruled territory would require drastic measures like total tax exemptions for the next few years, not this nonsense.
"Wait, now that I think about it, that pisses me off. Who the hell does he think he is, trying to intimidate me?"
Sensing Hildeva was about to explode again, I bolted to the kitchen to prep breakfast.
A moment later, as I plated grilled sausages and fried fish, Della came rushing in, flustered.
"Boss! You need to come out quick!"
"What's up?"
"The administrator and that guy from yesterday are fighting in the courtyard right now."
"Huh? Why fight here?"
I opened the door to the courtyard and sure enough, there they were: Hildeva and Hamond. She stood with arms crossed, glaring coldly at him, while he stood there with veins bulging in his neck, shouting. Kali watched the spectacle with gleeful interest.
"Did you sell off this inn too?"
"And?"
"Why are you selling off national assets on a whim?"
"Listen up, eighth-grade. You know the direct territory real estate ordinance?"
"Does the ordinance say administrators can sell national property at their sole discretion? I've never seen such a clause!"
"Confiscated properties can be sold below market value to settlers. Did you sneak in the back door on the lower civil service exam?"
Hamond faltered slightly at Hildeva's jab before countering.
"Ugh... Even so, how can you sell off all the city's foundational facilities to one person? Imagine if it was enemy spies or nobles pulling this!"
"So that's it—you think I'm scheming to hand the whole territory to spies or local lords for a bribe?"
"We can't rule that out! In long-isolated regions like this, administrator corruption and collusion with shady forces is rampant..."
"Hey, eighth-grade."
Hildeva looked at Hamond with utter pity.
"What's the real issue here? What did this new administrator tell you to make you obsess over money like this?"
"Money obsession? Fiscal health is the bedrock of governance!"
"Sigh. No point talking to you."
Shaking her head, Hildeva spotted me.
"Mr. Bertrand?"
"Administrator. What's going on?"
"This eighth-grade lackey is suddenly grilling me about the facilities you bought."
"Is that so? We followed the law to the letter. Any issues?"
"Beats me. But this eighth-grader says there are. Thinks you're some external agent sabotaging the territory."
"Me?"
Hamond flinched and averted his eyes when I looked at him, but he soon met my gaze with steely resolve.
"The new administrator will review these suspicious real estate deals once he arrives."
"Suspicious? Everything was by the book..."
"Suddenly settling in this isolated city and snapping up all the infrastructure with funds of dubious origin? Highly suspicious."
"Excuse me, do you even know what 'infrastructure' means...?"
Hamond had no answer for that.
"So... if there's a problem, you'll confiscate it all?"
"In the worst case, maybe."
After stuffing him with meat and beer, and this is how he repays me...
Hamond kept spouting nonsense for a good while longer.
"Fuck this! Just show him the ledgers and ordinances!"
Hildeva finally snapped, yelling, and only then did he shut up.
Watching them head back to City Hall, I had a bad feeling things were about to get messy. They wouldn't confiscate already-sold properties, but slapping on absurd taxes could force me to sell back at a loss, tears and all.
This is gonna be a pain...
The next morning, Della returned from delivering lunch to the fields and told me the new administrator had just arrived. I'd figured tonight or tomorrow morning at earliest—pretty quick.
"Four-horse carriage. I thought some prince was rolling in at first, lol."
Apparently, Hamond rode at the front, bellowing for people to clear the way like a triumphant general.
Local administrators don't travel like that. Fifth-grade isn't low-rank, but a four-horse carriage with an entourage? Overkill. Must be deluded from palace work, thinking direct-territory admin was a big deal.
Either way, no need for me to meddle in the handover. Time to prep for guests.
No out-of-towners yet, but since the roast pig party, locals had started coming for meals. Misunderstandings cleared, and my cooking's decent. Folks looked at me friendlier now—a relief, since bringing Della here just to twiddle thumbs would've sucked.
Hildeva didn't return to the inn that evening. Figured she was swamped, so I kept the hall lit and waited.
Around midnight, Kali's panting mixed with the door creaking open. A haggard Hildeva shuffled in and plopped onto a bar stool.
"You're late. Eaten yet?"
"Not hungry. Just booze."
I poured wine; she downed it in one go. After two more glasses, she sighed.
"What a piece of shit..."
The new guy had inspected the vault and ledgers right away. Furious at the empty coffers, he'd accused her of embezzlement and graft. She fired back, daring him to find proof, and they'd wasted the night arguing pointlessly.
"Says he'll raise taxes since funds are low. Told him it'd drive off the last residents, and he goes, 'Then slap on a travel ban.'"
"That's harsh..."
A travel ban locked residents in place. Citizens would be trapped.
"Borrow from nearby territories, collect taxes, too cheap for guards so conscript men for a new militia... The guy's lost it!"
She slammed the bar with her fist.
"A fifth-grade from the palace demoted to this? Career's toast. Must've fucked up big."
Hildeva muttered, sipping wine.
"Figures it's his last post—plans to squeeze a big payout and bail."
"Mm... So where to next, Administrator?"
"Me? Hah..."
Her wine-laced sigh wafted over.
"Where? Guess."
"Dunno. Back to the capital? You've kept this hellhole afloat."
"Heh heh!"
She laughed oddly, eyeing the troll skull trophy on the wall.
"No... They're shipping him home."
"Wait... To Apenzel? Why the hell..."