Why Are You Here of All Places
There was a saying: luck seven, effort three. Luck accounted for seventy percent, effort for thirty. The interpretation was up to the listener, but Askal could not agree with it in the slightest.
For him, it was simply all luck.
“Look, there goes Director Askal.”
“I heard the Evaluation Department named him this year’s outstanding administrator.”
“Just the way he walks has such an aura...”
“Damn. I wish we could be friends.”
His ears itched. Askal avoided the crowd as much as possible and slipped into his office.
Another framed portrait had been added. They must have hired a fairly skilled painter. The image was unnecessarily beautified, the subject staring straight ahead, with an inscription beneath it.
He had hoped the hot spring that had erupted in the wasteland might prove temporary, but no such miracle occurred. Rumors even spread that the water contained trace amounts of magic power and that bathing in it promoted health, turning the site into an overnight tourist sensation. Thanks to that, the Evaluation Department’s prestige had shot through the roof lately, and Askal, standing at its center, found himself enjoying a popularity he had never experienced in either of his lives.
He was even receiving love letters. Quite a stack of them. Of course Askal knew they were not born of pure affection but carried selfish motives—people hoping to hitch a ride on his rising golden rope.
Hello. I’ve been watching you for a long time. Lately my heart races every time I see you, Sir Askal, and I can’t hold it in any longer. Today, when work ends at six...
— A secret admirer
When he tossed them into the fireplace, the letters—written on rather fine paper—burned smoothly. Excellent kindling.
“Oh. Director Askal. You were here.”
“This is my office. Isn’t it natural I’d be here?”
“Haha. You’re such a busy man, I assumed you were out on an inspection.”
Even at the sarcastic jab, Kane laughed heartily, completely unbothered. Lately the head of Department 1 had been dropping by Askal’s office often. It seemed Askal had earned the man’s solid favor. Any other administrator would have clung to Kane’s coattails, but Askal wanted to slice that connection clean with a dagger.
“What do you need?”
“Haven’t you heard? There’s a dinner party tonight.”
A dinner party. Memories from his previous life resurfaced. The awful custom of pouring liquor down your throat until you were plastered, swearing eternal brotherhood, only to vomit everything up against a utility pole hours later. This world was not much different.
“Must I attend?”
“Of course. You’re the guest of honor.”
“What exactly did I do?”
Kane answered as though the question itself was ridiculous.
“You played a central role in revolutionary magic-stone refinement—an innovation no one else recognized—then personally scouted the wasteland, developed the hot spring, and made a massive contribution to the imperial treasury.”
Was this a biography of some great hero? Askal wanted to plug his ears.
“And you were only ten minutes late.”
“Are there administrators who are never late?”
“Not that I know of.”
I really need to escape this idiotic place as soon as possible. Askal renewed his vow. Yet the resolution carried a strange sense of déjà vu, as if he had repeated it many times before. Must be his imagination.
“Cheers!”
The place Askal was forcibly dragged to was a high-end capital restaurant called Whale’s Breath. As far as he knew, it ranked among the empire’s most expensive establishments. Ordinary commoners could never afford it; even well-off upper classes had to stretch their budgets to dine here.
Inside that very restaurant, uniformed administrators had rented an entire floor and were chatting noisily. Askal was reminded of the organized-crime scenes from old movies.
“Eat plenty, Askal. When else will you get to dine at Whale’s Breath? Government-funded meals always taste best.”
“Yes. I’m eating.”
The Evaluation Department Director kept smiling warmly and offering more dishes. It felt burdensome. Why sit right beside him? To make matters worse, Kane, head of Department 1, occupied his other side. Burdened on both flanks.
It was burdensome. Envious glances stabbed him from across the room. To them, these seats must have looked like the royal box reserved for those destined for success.
Royal box, my ass. More like the guillotine seats for direct execution.
Should a rebellion erupt later, the imperial family and high officials would be executed in order. Remaining a low-ranking clerk would have been far safer for survival. Too late for that now.
“By the way, Askal. Just how did you discover there was a hot spring in the wasteland?”
Once the alcohol loosened his tongue, the Director asked in a serious tone.
“I simply got lucky.”
“Come now. We’re all friends here. Speak honestly.”
The Director overacted his disappointment. The smell of liquor wafted from his flushed face.
“It really was just luck.”
No matter how they pressed, the only answer he could give was that he had been lucky. Because it was the truth.
“Hiding it even from your superior? Ha. I’m disappointed, Askal. I didn’t take you for that sort.”
The huffing Director left his seat, apparently needing the restroom. What exactly had he seen to claim he “didn’t take him for that sort”? Askal, dumbfounded, picked up some meat with his chopsticks. At least the food was delicious. Without that small mercy he would never have endured this drinking party.
“Indeed.”
In the meantime Kane nodded deeply, as though he had realized something profound. Why is that guy acting like that?
Askal had no idea. Young men who drank tended to act rashly. In that sense, Askal’s prudence in refusing to reveal his secret despite the Director’s persistent questioning had raised Kane’s internal evaluation of him by yet another level.
In every possible way, it was a maddening dinner party.
The next day.
Askal found delivery packages piled in his office.
These persimmons are from my hometown. They’re perfectly in season and taste wonderful.
This is the latest style of formal suit. It will look perfect on you, Sir Askal.
A bouquet chosen with especially beautiful flowers.
Food, clothing, flowers, valuable trinkets, and even completely useless ornaments arrived in droves—from farmers, successful tailors, florists, and all sorts of people. Flustered, Askal asked Kane, who had stopped by the office to chat.
“These? No big deal. They’re bribes. Looks like it’s time for you to start receiving them too. You’ve been recognized as a key figure.”
“Aren’t administrators forbidden from accepting bribes?”
Kane’s eyes widened.
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
“...Never mind.”
The common sense of this fantasy, near-modern medieval world seemed rather different from the modern era. Since the bribes were of no real use, Askal forwarded everything to the orphanage where Eileen worked, under the pseudonym “Long-Legged Uncle.” It would serve as good insurance later.
“Anyway, now that you’re Grade Six you’ll need an assistant. Anyone in mind?”
“Not particularly.”
“Then I’ll select some suitable candidates and make a list. Sound good?”
“I’d be grateful.”
That afternoon Kane returned carrying a mountain of documents.
“Are there really this many candidates?”
“You’ve become quite famous lately. The number of applicants was enormous, so I narrowed it down to the best of the best.”
Askal reviewed the resumes.
The first was a knight who had served in the Rosemary Order. He promised twenty-four-hour close protection, but his personality seemed questionable. Pass.
The second was a mage who had been excommunicated from the Magic Tower for researching black magic and later scouted by the empire. He wanted to study Askal’s brain. Was he insane? Pass.
After looking through countless more—renowned accountants, even children of nobility—Askal’s head began to throb.
“Just pick anyone.”
It truly didn’t matter. He wasn’t planning to work anyway.
“Understood. I’ll take full responsibility and choose someone perfectly suited to you.”
Kane clenched his fist with strong determination. He didn’t need to go that far. A few days later, Kane declared he had found a true talent—and, true to his word, he had indeed brought a catastrophe.
“Introduce yourself. This is Miss Lia.”
Askal slowly raised his head. Flowing platinum-blonde hair, eyes like polished aquamarines. For an instant his body froze as though struck by lightning.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Lia.”
She was concealing her identity, but Askal knew at once. She was the future tyrant empress, the Third Princess of the Empire—Julia.
Why the hell are you here of all places…