Chapter 7
Around this time, her nickname at the imperial palace was “Hopeless Cecile.”
The phrase “a genius born once in a hundred years” was one that the crown prince often heard.
Countless nobles, eager to win the emperor’s favor, showered the favored prince with endless praise.
To borrow the favored crown prince’s nickname in jest—it felt oddly satisfying. Even more so because Isaac seemed to completely accept it.
“So… are you coming with me or not?”
When Cecile asked in a casual tone, Isaac turned serious.
“Are you joking? After getting such advice from a genius young lady, I’d be a fool not to go. Let’s go. I’ll make sure you see me land that deal with the duke.”
Isaac’s firm assertion—something Cecile usually found annoying—actually felt reassuring this time.
As she watched him prepare to go out, she secretly smiled.
After Isaac entered Duke Bartholomew’s mansion, it didn’t take long for him to be hired as the temporary estate manager tasked with improving the mansion’s environment.
It wasn’t that the duke had been careless in his vetting. In fact, he evaluated Isaac with stricter standards than usual.
“If that ever-wary duke decided to hire him, it must mean Isaac showed abilities that far exceeded expectations.”
Cecile hadn’t seen the full evaluation process, but she had the good fortune of witnessing the duke signing the contract.
Unlike at the office, Isaac was dressed formally in a suit, standing in the duke’s study.
“I don’t care what god you believe in or what kind of work you do. I’m not trusting the man, but your ability. Just once.”
With that, the duke signed at the bottom of the contract with a fountain pen.
“As long as you fulfill the contract, the reward will be more than generous. But if you fail… remember the name Bartholomew. Even if you run, Bartholomew will find you—by any means necessary.”
Having once been chased by that very same ruthless duke, Cecile felt those words to her core.
His voice and expression were so cold, it seemed like frost might form on the windows of the study.
Isaac, who had grown up doing all kinds of things in the back alleys, turned pale under the duke’s pressure.
“I-I’ll keep that in mind.”
He tried to smile, but his lips only trembled.
“You may go.”
The duke, not sparing him a glance, dismissed him coldly.
As Isaac stepped out of the study, Cecile followed after him.
He was already briskly on his way somewhere, seemingly eager to begin work right after signing the contract.
“What are you going to start with?”
“First, I need to hire staff. We can’t clean or manage supplies without people, can we?”
“Good idea. But with the duke’s reputation as a villain, no one will want to work here. And you can’t just hire anyone. Do you think you can manage?”
At her question, Isaac turned to her and grinned.
“Have you forgotten I’m the empire’s top fixer?”
What does being a fixer have to do with hiring staff?—any doubt Cecile had was dispelled the very next morning.
A massive crowd of job seekers had gathered in front of the mansion.
There were so many applicants, they lined up not only through the lobby but out into the garden.
“Where did all these people even come from?”
“You didn’t know? The most important thing for a fixer surviving in the back alleys is connections.”
Now that she thought about it, it made sense… The applicants certainly didn’t look ordinary.
People with huge scars across their faces, heavily muscular folks, others covered in tattoos.
A clever move. If you’re going to work at a villain’s mansion, this kind of crowd fits right in. As long as they’re competent and loyal, there’s no issue. And Isaac will filter out anyone problematic.
True to her thoughts, Isaac seemed to be screening applicants with very strict standards.
“If your tattoos are visible outside of your uniform, you’re disqualified.”
“It barely shows! Even that’s not allowed?”
“No. Staff members are the face of the mansion.”
A man with a shaved head and a large, elaborate dragon tattoo turned away, dejected.
“I really thought I’d get to work here this time… Failing again because of this tattoo… How will I face my grandma now…”
After four chaotic days of interviews in the lobby and garden… a miracle occurred.
The mansion began to fill with people.
There were all kinds of maids—kitchen maids, laundry maids, chamber maids, serving maids, and even a nanny assigned to care for Cecile.
Among the male staff were gardeners, cooks, bakers, footmen, stable hands, coachmen, general laborers, and even a lampman in charge of maintaining mana lamps.
From the scullery to the stillroom used for preserving food, every corner of the mansion was being staffed.
To establish order and relay instructions, Isaac called the staff to gather in the lobby every morning and evening.
Seeing that many people in uniform lined up so neatly—it was a spectacular sight.
Each of them had been carefully selected by Isaac. Perhaps because they had fought hard to earn their place, their faces radiated determination.
After doing a headcount, Isaac cleared his throat and spoke.
“I know that each of you standing here has faced hardships on your journey to this place. No two of you came here the same way.”
He looked over the assembled staff and continued.
“The road we’ve walked has been rocky and harsh, but that doesn’t mean the road ahead must be the same.”
His voice carried strength, and his posture exuded the dignity of a true leader.
His usual easygoing and flippant manner was nowhere to be seen.
“A new morning has dawned. And so has the second act of our lives. Let us begin this sacred labor with gratitude to Duke Bartholomew, who has granted us this new life.”
Thunderous applause followed.
Cecile clapped along with them, a satisfied smile on her lips.
[Whoever he is, that guy gives one hell of a speech!]
Even Nibelung was genuinely impressed by Isaac’s speech.
Having been asleep due to the aftereffects of the regression, Nibelung had only recently awakened.
“I fought Isaac many times before the regression, and yet he doesn’t recognize me. Well, I guess that makes sense… there’s a 20-year time gap, and Nibelung’s always been bad with faces.”
Thinking that, Cecile muttered quietly.
“Yeah, he’s pretty good at managing people. Not as good as me, though.”
[Are you feeling competitive? Cecile, you’ve got more childish sides than I thought!]
“What are you talking about? Childish? Me?”
[Indeed. Maybe it’s because your body is now eight years old. You’re acting your age. Or… maybe this is how you’ve always been.]
Nibelung burst out laughing heartily.
His tone was so doting that Cecile considered knocking him out again with magic.
As the staff dispersed to begin their duties, Cecile ran over to Isaac.
“Good job, Isaac. That was impressive.”
Isaac smiled broadly and knelt to meet her eye level.
“I’m honored that the bold young lady is satisfied.”
“I’m a generous boss. I give credit where it’s due. Anyway, now that the staff are hired, what’s the next step?”
Isaac winked.
“Time to sweep, scrub, and shine.”
