Page 284

After several grueling days of working closely with the Minister, the ordeal finally came to an end.

It was brutal. The departments had to prepare documents so meticulously that our eyes burned, just to avoid any mistake. The Minister, meanwhile, nitpicked at everything, rejecting any tiny flaw. To make matters worse, the departments that had their documents rejected would turn around and submit new ones within three hours. It was completely insane.

“Well, I’m heading out…”

The Minister didn’t even say a word at my declaration of escape. He just leaned back in his chair and waved a limp hand in my direction. That gesture wasn’t just a simple wave—it was practically a silent order to get out and not make any noise.

It was almost comical to see my boss so close to collapse, but I couldn’t bring myself to laugh. I knew I wasn’t in much better shape.

The final boss at the very end.

I shuddered. Having the strongest enemy appear at the last moment was more than a cliche, it was practically a universal law. However, this was overkill.

Just an hour ago, I had been holding my ground in the Minister’s office when the real villain arrived—the one who crushed both the Minister’s and my mental and emotional state in real time. The very thought of it nearly brought tears to my eyes.

“Minister of Finance.”

“Minister of Welfare? What’s going on? I’ve already approved your additional budget.”

“Sorry, but I need more, so I came in person.”

The Welfare Minister, barging in unannounced, boldly declared that he wanted even more money. The Finance Minister, already dazed from this onslaught, didn’t stand a chance.

“Is there even a precedent for getting an additional budget twice?”

“Additional budgets are meant to be applied for within the set period. There’s no limit to the number of times.”

Technically, he wasn’t wrong. It was just that no one had ever dared to ask for extra funding twice in such a short span.

And I had the privilege of witnessing the birth of a new kind of legend.

“The children orphaned by the Great War are now reaching adulthood. We need separate funding to help them transition into society!”

“Didn’t we already increase the support for orphans?”

“Orphans and young adults seeking jobs are different. These kids aren’t just staying in orphanages; they’re scattering across the empire looking for work.”

When the trump card of ‘orphans’ was played, I wisely kept my mouth shut. The Minister, knowing little about welfare, didn’t have much to say either.

Even if he knew more, he wouldn’t have stood a chance. Who could argue against the Welfare Minister, a legendary figure who, as an orphan himself, rose to his current position through sheer grit? Who could look someone like that in the eye and ask, ‘Is that really necessary?’

I certainly couldn’t.

No human could pull that off. And as flawed as our Minister was, he was still human. So, inevitably, he caved and approved the second round of additional funding.

At least that was the end of it. No other departments came knocking afterward.

…Or should I say ‘thankfully’?

***As much as civil servants endured endless struggles, it wasn’t all pain and suffering.

“Executive Manager, it’s the Senior Manager.”

“Oh, come in.”

I steadied my racing heart as I heard the Senior Manager’s voice outside the door.

Today was a good day. Maybe this was my reward for enduring the old-timers in the administration alongside the Minister—this time, I got to deal with fresh recruits.

The newbies.

The thought made my heart race again. Newbies were untainted and pure. What a beautiful thought. Just talking about them made me happy, and the idea of meeting them in person filled me with even more excitement.

Today was the day the new civil servants finished their mandatory training and reported to their departments for the first time. As the Executive Manager of the Prosecutors’ Office, I get to welcome and encourage the new members. Honestly, today felt more like my birthday than my actual birthday.

As if sensing my excitement, the door quickly swung open as soon as I said ‘come in,’ and about a dozen people flooded into the room.

There’s quite a lot.

I was satisfied. The Ministry of Finance was considered an elite department within the administration. Many wanted to join, but few actually made it in. To have over ten new recruits just for the Prosecutors’ Office was a historic intake.

They’ve made it.

I couldn’t help but smile as I recognized some familiar faces in the group. Some of the student council members I had my eye on since last year had joined the Prosecutors’ Office.

While the representative of the disciplinary committee, who was more suited for the military, was nowhere to be seen, nearly the entire crew had made it here. Thank you for trusting me—I promise you a lifetime of job security. Heck, I’ll even make sure your kids inherit your position if you want.

“This is a big group. The Team Managers will be thrilled.”

I rose from my seat to properly welcome the new recruits. Seeing them nervously shuffle around, I couldn’t just stay seated.

Besides, it was rare to have anyone younger than me in the Prosecutors’ Office. But with this new influx, I was sure the average age had just dropped significantly.

“They’ve been evenly assigned to each division.”

“And to the Senior Manager’s office, too?”

“Yes.”

The Senior Manager’s confident response made me chuckle.

He had every right to be pleased. The Senior Manager’s office handled about 90% of the Prosecutors’ Office’s paperwork, and the workload there was no joke. With this many new recruits, he probably felt like doing backflips out of sheer joy.

“Welcome to the Prosecutors’ Office. We may not see each other often, but I hope we’ll cross paths more in the future.”

“Yes! We’ll do our best!”

Leaving the happy Senior Manager to his excitement, I extended my hand to the closest recruit. He quickly clasped it with both hands and bowed deeply at the waist, his greeting booming with enthusiasm.

Ah, that was the best thing about newbies. They respected their superiors without a hint of arrogance. This was what the proper relationship between a boss and his subordinates should look like. If only the Managers could learn even half of their humility.

***At last, I’ve arrived.

I’ve reached the promised land I’ve dreamed of for so long.

So this is the Prosecutors’ Office.

When I finished the mandatory training for new civil servants and finally stepped into the Ministry of Finance building, specifically into the Prosecutors’ Office, I was overcome with an indescribable feeling.

It felt like a miracle. I was just the ordinary child of a minor baron, with no connections or special backing. Yet here I was, in the heart of one of the most powerful departments in the government. I would have been happy just to enter the government, but this? How could I not be overjoyed? Even my friend Sirri, standing beside me, looked stunned by the situation.

I felt like tears might flow if I closed my eyes. Sure, I had imagined this ever since I received the recommendation letter from the Executive Manager, but hoping and actually experiencing it were two very different things.

My lifelong benefactor.

That was why the Executive Manager was more than just a superior to me. He was the one who granted me an opportunity that changed the course of my life, which would have otherwise ended as just another average noble in the empire.

If I, a noble who joined the Prosecutors’ Office at 20 thanks to the Executive Manager’s recommendation, were to live an ordinary life from now on, it wouldn’t be anyone else’s fault but my own for failing to seize such a golden opportunity.

“The Executive Manager may seem stern from the outside, but he’s a generous person. He doesn’t criticize without reason, and if you put in the effort, he’ll reward you accordingly.”

As I was quietly reflecting on my gratitude and renewed determination, the Senior Manager, who was guiding the new recruits, spoke softly.

I knew that, and I knew it well. Despite the grim rumors surrounding him, the Executive Manager was compassionate, fair, and incredibly competent. Those who didn’t know him spread baseless tales, but he was nothing like the reputation that preceded him.

“So don’t be too nervous. After today, you probably won’t see much of him, so don’t spend the whole time with your head down.”

We all nodded at those words, myself included.

Right, there was no need to be nervous. It wasn’t like this was the first time I was meeting the Executive Manager, after all.

…Actually, it was the first time I was meeting him as the Executive Manager of the Prosecutors’ Office and not as an academy inspector.

“This is a big group. The Team Managers will be thrilled.”

When I saw the Executive Manager rise from his seat and approach us, my legs trembled. My mind kept telling me that I knew him well, but my body ignored that and tensed up.

How strange. Does just changing the setting make everything feel this different?

“Welcome to the Prosecutors’ Office. We may not see each other often, but I hope we’ll cross paths more in the future.”

His gentle tone helped ease my nerves little by little.

No matter how much the environment changed, the person didn’t. The compassionate man I knew hadn’t transformed into someone else overnight.

In the future.

That simple phrase struck a chord in my heart. To see the Executive Manager regularly would mean rising to a high rank. In other words, he was subtly encouraging us to aim for leadership positions.

I must rise to the challenge and repay that encouragement. I will, without fail, become a senior officer and stand by his side. As someone who received his recommendation, I couldn’t let anyone question his judgment. I owed it to him to prove that his trust wasn’t misplaced.

Thus, the only way to repay such a profound kindness was to succeed.

“It’s different from the academy. This time, you’re the junior. Work hard.”

“Yes! I will do my best!”

I clasped his hand tightly and bowed deeply.

One day, I’ll stand proudly beside him.

***After the initial introductions, I went on to shake hands with each of the new recruits, offering words of encouragement. I was happy to see familiar faces like Demian among them, but I kept my interactions short to avoid any unwanted attention. It could complicate things for everyone if rumors spread that the Executive Manager was close with the juniors.

One day, these guys will be Team Managers.

I nearly winced at the thought of that dreadful future. Couldn’t they just stay as team members forever?

The idea would probably make the new recruits foam at the mouth, but I was being honest. At least the Team Managers were still somewhat normal, but something happened to the Managers—they seemed to lose all sense of reason when they got promoted.

Please, just stay as your pure, untainted selves…