Chapter 5
1+1+1 = 4! (1)
The Duke summoned Apel the butler, the head maid, and the head chef to the meeting room.
He said to call everyone in the house, so I searched thoroughly, but these were the only ones.
Truly, for a duke, he was remarkably unpretentious.
All six of us—well, six including myself—sat around a small table.
It was hard to read anyone’s expression. Calm, perhaps? Or cold in a certain sense?
“Now, then, Administrative Officer. Let’s hear about the documents you prepared earlier,” said Duke Helfion.
I cleared my throat and began speaking.
“To begin with the conclusion: in the Helfion Duchy, there were three major forces controlling the market flow, order, and regulations.”
I paused and studied their reactions.
Everyone’s expressions were calm. Did they already know this, or were they just restraining themselves because the Duke was present?
I decided to continue briefing.
“When I first looked at the documents, I was bewildered. Taxes were a complete mess, and the market prices used as references fluctuated wildly in just a day or two.”
Things clearly weren’t normal.
“So, I focused on a different aspect—not the prices themselves, but who was behind the transactions.”
When I learned administrative processing at Delphi Academy, my professor drilled one lesson into us repeatedly: Numbers tell the truth. Numbers don’t lie.
But… not all numbers are recorded. The person who fills out the documents could lie.
That’s why examining the documents means reading between the lines—understanding what the writers meant to convey, and what intentions the people in the documents had.
“The first group I discovered was the Grizzly Mercenary Corps. They are responsible for selling monster byproducts.”
The Grizzly Mercenary Corps was the largest mercenary group in the Helfion Duchy.
All 250 members were A-rank mercenaries. Considering most other mercenary groups were around 50–100, that was an overwhelming number.
“They were formed by Pan, a former war merchant, during the Empire War fifteen years ago,” Apel the butler added, filling in details that were hard to glean from the documents alone.
“Pan is cunning, devious, and powerful. Though a merchant by background, he possesses Swordmaster Beginner-level combat skills, combining both brains and brawn.”
“Pan maintains constant trade with the outside, using mercenaries to manage monster byproduct prices.”
“And how do you evaluate these prices?” asked the Duke.
I pulled a document I had reviewed earlier in the afternoon.
“Messy… or rather, strange.”
“In what way?”
“To properly assign value to monster byproducts, they need to actually be worth it.”
Some monster waste even holds value.
“For example, debris from a gargoyle’s body contains magical energy, but ultimately it’s just a rock. Rare, yes, but unnecessary—so it doesn’t command a high price.”
Here’s what I noticed:
“There’s no consistency in the items or prices handled by the Grizzly Mercenary Corps. Useless items are sometimes sold at high prices, while essential materials for survival and combat are sold cheaply.”
“If there’s no consistency, isn’t it wrong to say they control the market?”
“Exactly why I looked at it from a more macro perspective. It seems their goal isn’t to dominate specific prices, but rather to maintain the ‘market’ itself continuously within the Duchy.”
Money has no absolute value; its worth is defined by the consensus of those circulating it.
The Grizzly Mercenary Corps was operating on that principle.
“I see. Then, the next force?”
The Duke nodded quietly, signaling closure on the first group.
“The next… group doesn’t have a formal name, so I’ll call them ‘the Tavern.’ They handle the Duchy’s security and order. When problems arise, they convene at the tavern to resolve incidents.”
“Interesting. And how does the Tavern operate?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but it seems similar to a court. Villagers bring complaints, and by the time they leave, disputes are resolved through consensus.”
No further questions came. They seemed to already know this.
“And the third?” asked the Duke.
“I’ve named them the Village Women’s Association,” I replied.
The head maid laughed—a clear, pleasant sound.
“Village Women’s Association… that’s an amusing name.”
“The Association consists of settlers living with the Duchy’s warriors: mercenary spouses, children, and other family members.”
But these were far from ordinary civilians.
“They function as the Duchy’s circulatory system. From cleaning the village, managing births and childcare, to acting as a militia when monsters attack, they are indispensable.”
“But isn’t that what ordinary villagers do everywhere?” the chef asked sharply.
“Of course, if it were only that, I wouldn’t call them a ‘force.’ I named them so because they manage information.”
“Information?” the Duke asked.
I nodded. These people were the Duchy’s blood, carrying news throughout the territory.
“Rather than rumors, let’s say they manage information—who’s injured, where a high-level dungeon has been found, from trivial stories to critical intel like artifacts. Even high-level info spreads in a single day.”
This was the conclusion I drew after careful consideration.
“So I formed a hypothesis. If there’s a hub where all village conversations converge, a central point for information… then who leads this hub?”
“Interesting. Who do you think heads the Village Women’s Association?”
I produced a document.
“Without a doubt, it must be Mrs. Elsia.”
Mrs. Elsia moved to the Duchy seven years ago with her husband and daughter. Her husband died within a year, and since then, she’s run a grocery store with her daughter.
Most warriors survive daily through hunting, so agriculture is minimal. Naturally, most villagers visit her store.
“Mrs. Elsia coordinates information, allocating tasks according to what she learns. She effectively serves as the militia leader of the civilians.”
The gathered retainers murmured in admiration.
“All correct. Remarkable. The previous administrative officer took about two months to understand this hierarchy,” the Duke said.
“Ha, I was lucky,” I replied, thinking of the backlog of unprocessed documents.
“Now, there’s one more thing.”
I interrupted the Duke and others, drawing puzzled glances.
“I said there are three major forces—but I never said they were the only ones.”
“Are there smaller forces?”
“Not exactly ‘small.’ In fact, the next group I’ll mention wields far more power than the previous three.”
The room stiffened.
“This group uses capital to shake the Duchy. Sometimes they wield more money than the Grizzly Mercenary Corps, manipulating Duchy funds. On some days, they distribute monster byproducts nearly for free, while on others, they buy them at exorbitant prices without limit.”
I slowly scanned the room, stopping at one person: Apel the butler.
“The final force is Duke Helfion and Apel, executing the Duke’s orders.”
At first, I thought the Duke, a brute of battle, didn’t care about administration and left the Duchy to run itself, allowing the other three forces to act independently. But strange documents revealed that some massive events couldn’t be handled by those three alone. Only the Duke and his retainers could accomplish such feats.
The Duke wasn’t indifferent; he merely acted as a coordinator, ensuring the Duchy functioned with minimal intervention.
“…I am genuinely astonished,” the Duke said, eyes wide.
“Even more so than before. It’s like the shock I felt seeing the Demon Lord’s secret techniques. Can one really see that much from documents?”
“I studied diligently.”
“Study, yes. Whether mastering the sword or studying to perfection, it’s the same. I didn’t realize that excelling in one field could make you a master elsewhere—today I see it.”
“Overpraised,” I said.
“As I said, too much courtesy can be rude. In just a few hours this afternoon, you understood the Duchy’s core players. Remarkable skill.”
I smiled at the Duke. He said revealing one’s skill was a virtue. Then, surely, there should be a reward for displaying such ability.
“Head maid and head chef, return to your duties. Only the butler and Administrative Officer remain.”
