Chapter 67
“Please forgive us, my lord!”
“We made a small mistake!”
“It was our oversight — we didn’t notice!”
‘Weren’t you guys supposed to have packed up and gone home?’
I blinked as I looked at the trio of Dalgona and their cronies who had again crowded in front of the study.
‘Well, I did expect they wouldn’t accept being fired so easily.’
But asking for forgiveness? Calling it a “mistake”?
‘What on earth are you talking about…?’
Because I stayed silent, still trying to take the measure of the situation, the vassals around us who had been watching one another finally started confessing their sins in a long line.
“He gave me the money, and before I knew it it had slipped into my pocket — it was a mistake.”
“We employed people from the tenants but forgot to actually pay them — it was a mistake.”
“This, that — a mistake here, a mistake there.”
They must have made so many “mistakes” that as I listened to them spill out every kind of excuse, I couldn’t help but snort a little in disbelief.
‘What nonsense are they spouting?’
No way the excuses they couldn’t even convince me with would work on Lucas.
I glanced at Lucas standing beside me; as expected, his face was set cold.
“So they weren’t loyal retainers at all, but corrupt officials wearing the mask of loyal subjects.”
His voice had gone as cold as his expression — he wasn’t just irritated, he was furious.
Lucas was called the “Prince of Gentle Spring Breezes” among the capital’s young ladies, but when someone like him got angry it was all the more frightening.
“To wrap up things that are inexcusable as ‘mistakes.’ Did they think deception would keep working forever?”
At Lucas’s sharp words, the Dalgona trio snapped their mouths shut.
They evidently hadn’t expected Lucas — who usually listened to them with a smiling face — to react like this.
Lucas clicked his tongue at the three who had gone mute, then bowed his head toward me with an embarrassed look.
“Dannae, once again you were right. These people aren’t loyal. They were corrupt officials who deserved to be fired.”
His muttered voice snapped me fully awake.
‘Come to think of it…!’
They’d been trying to ruin the domain. So I’d cut off those I’d thought were loyal.
‘They weren’t loyal after all!’
That meant I’d actually made the right decision for the domain’s development!
‘Ugh.’
I had assumed other people would interfere with my plan, but I ended up tripping over my own foot.
“Heh, haha… yes… these people really weren’t loyal…”
I forced a laugh and swallowed tears inside; Lucas looked at me with a look that plainly said he was impressed.
‘I’m doomed.’
No — not doomed. Not yet. If it turned out not to be ruined, then my life would be ruined as a result.
‘I’m losing my mind. Why did I suddenly become some brilliant detective who can spot corrupt officials? I just wanted the domain to go under!’
For some reason the plan I’d thought would be easy was already going awry from the start.
When word got out that the three had been fired, the Sanho estate was thrown into an uproar.
They had been loyal retainers for five hundred years — of course it caused a stir when they were chased out overnight.
The problem was the fallout after cutting them off.
“My lord, the annex is empty.”
Dein reported the situation to me with a troubled face.
“The annex?”
“Yes. We use the Sanho estate’s annex as offices for the officials, but only a handful of people came to work today.”
“Why?”
“They say they won’t come to work unless those three are reinstated.”
I expected them to put up a fuss, but I hadn’t expected them to drag everyone else into it.
I rubbed at my throbbing temples and sighed.
“They were mostly hired through those three’s connections, I suppose.”
If only a handful had come in, that meant the rest had gotten their positions through corruption.
‘They really milked it dry, huh?’
And instead of showing remorse, they were throwing tantrums and causing trouble.
The sight made my face sour; Dein bowed apologetically.
“My apologies. It seems those three are pulling strings behind the scenes.”
“Right, that figures.”
They’d prodded people with the logic: “If you help us, you’ll be safe when I get fired,” and enticed them into jobs. Didn’t need to be a genius to see that.
‘Administrative paralysis, huh.’
If they thought I would be cowed by that, they were gravely mistaken.
‘Bring it on.’
I’d always lived by the rule of returning in kind.
I ground my teeth and rose.
“How many people did come in?”
“Sir, a few, my lord.”
“Hmm. We should reward the diligent employees. Show them to the annex.”
Dein guided me to the annex like he didn’t understand my intent, but he didn’t argue.
Because the people who had declared a strike had left like a receding tide, the annex was quiet.
Many desks sat lonely, waiting for their owners — people who would never come back.
‘Because I’m going to fire them all.’
“Dein.”
“Yes?”
“Fire everyone who didn’t come in today.”
“Yes?”
Dein had bowed reflexively, then looked up in surprise.
“W-What? Everyone, fired?”
“Yes. They all came in through those three’s networks anyway. Keeping them would only cause more problems.”
Dein and the few officials left guarding the post widened their eyes as though this development were unimaginable.
“But if we fire everyone, there’ll be an administrative vacuum…”
“That’s true. But even without firing them, a vacuum is already forming, right?”
I shrugged and looked around the empty annex.
With dust drifting through the vacated space, Dein had nothing to say.
“They say they won’t come back unless those three return, and I have no intention of reinstating them. Tell them not to come back — forever, if they like.”
“…Yes!”
Dein squared his shoulders and nodded after a deep breath, as if he’d made up his mind.
“And to manage the work, we’ll need new heads.”
I quickly scanned the few remaining officials.
Probably because I’d just fired a huge number, everyone flinched whenever our eyes met.
‘If the old officials quit, naturally the remaining people would be promoted.’
I planned to pick several of them and appoint new officers.
I didn’t intend to carefully check resumes to find the most suitable.
‘My goal is for things to fail!’
If I put the most incompetent people in charge, the system would collapse on its own.
I pictured the ideal lineup in my head:
A slick, swindler-like finance head.
A cowardly military head.
A lazy administrative head.
What a recipe for disaster — just thinking about it made me giddy.
If I filled positions with people whose characters were the exact opposite of what was needed, the domain’s ruin would be only a matter of time.
The perfect candidates had appeared before my eyes.
I approached a timid man who sat in the corner like a meerkat, nervously watching others.
“You, there.”
“Y-Yes!”
“From today you’re in charge of military affairs.”
“Eh?”
The timid man blinked in surprise.
Next target: that man who looked like a con artist.
‘Perfect — what a finance director’s face.’
I smiled with satisfaction and put a hand on the man’s shoulder.
“You’re in charge of finance from today.”
“Wha—?”
“And the last administrative head…”
I pointed at the woman who had been boredly yawning through all this chaos.
“You’ll do it.”
“…Huh?”
She stared at me frozen in mid-yawn.
In truth, she wasn’t the only one looking at me like that.
Every official in the study — a handful at most — had the same dazed expression.
They looked as if to say, “Is this some kind of dream? Is this a typhoon suddenly?”
Ignoring their confusion, I snapped my fingers lightly at them all.
“All right, the new heads are appointed. From now on, follow your superiors’ instructions.”
“…Y-Yes!”
After their brief stupor, the officials collected themselves and slowly returned to their duties.
I watched the scene with satisfaction and left the annex.
Before I left, I made a final, strong request to the new administrative head.
“Also — even if those who were fired try to come back, never accept them. Understood?”
Garbage doesn’t get recycled, after all!
