Chapter: 826
The hellscape crafted by the former Eiselon Patriarch was nothing short of insanity. He didn’t just stir up state sentiments; he orchestrated a bloodbath through endless competition! And to top it off, he even allowed legal fistfights in a crazy coliseum to ensure that all that anger and hatred didn’t come crashing down on him.
I mean, I always knew he was insane, but I never realized he was this insane. What if part of the Second Prince’s achievements was actually the work of the former Eiselon Patriarch? Maybe people mistook his follies as the Second Prince’s brilliance.
“This is solitude, innit?”
I gulped down my coffee in a hurry to soothe my burning insides.
This familiar yet ugly system of his. No matter how I thought about it, it felt like a deep loneliness. The difference from typical solitude? This was a jar where anyone could enter and exit freely, yet new contenders popped up incessantly, leading to an infinite array of battles.
How embarrassing. Here I was, an Executive Manager of the Information Department, completely oblivious to the hell that lay within the Imperial Family’s direct jurisdiction.
At the same time, I felt fear. What if I’d discovered this hellhole a tad too late? Just how fermented and aged would this hell have become?
“How on earth has such a mess been maintained for decades?”
“Competition is fierce, sure, but if you win, the rewards are worth it. It’s all about making guests of the vast Imperial market, and sometimes, noble households or major merchant guilds place large orders.”
“I see.”
Nodding in troubled agreement, I found that horrifying news made me feel all the more uneasy.
I already disliked the foreign guy next to me, but if pressuring him could yield profits? For money-crazed merchants, there couldn’t be a more tempting idea.
The thought of losing had long vanished from their minds. Those who fear failure wouldn’t dare make it as merchants, let alone cross borders to come to the Empire.
“Moreover, this is still tamer compared to the old days. It’s a blessing the Emperor intervened; if it had been ruled by some past patriarch, oh dear.”
The shopkeeper trembled as if just imagining it made him uneasy.
I no longer had the energy to be shocked. What I just heard was that this massive solitude had at least calmed down a bit. What the heck was Eiselon like back then?
‘So that was a capable regional governor, huh?’
Still, there was one small comfort. Since Northern Hauzentz became a direct territory of the Imperial Family, it calmed down, meaning the current chief governor, Winston, was indeed competent.
Honestly, if he were really that competent, he would’ve gotten rid of this hell altogether, but it was a hell constructed by someone who was once the unrivaled top lord among the marquises. It had persisted for decades. If it could be dismantled with just the capabilities and authority of the chief regional governor, that would be the odd part.
“Thanks for the info. I guess I should be careful while wandering around.”
“Strange to say this after all the grim talk, but we’re quite friendly towards guests and tourists. What merchant would pick a fight with a customer?”
“Well, that’s true.”
Hearing those words softens my otherwise stiff demeanor for the first time.
Indeed, fights among merchants are a competition, but squabbling with customers? That would be a whole new level of madness!
“I’m glad to hear it’s friendly toward guests. As a token of my appreciation, I’ll give a small gift, so please don’t refuse.”
With that, I flicked a Great Silver Coin towards the shopkeeper, and his back bent into a perfect right angle.
“Thank you, esteemed guest!”
Seeing him accept it without any reluctance made it clear he was used to noble customers. Nobles get furious if you refuse their tips; it’s like an affront to their very being. They’d feel disrespected for having their goodwill rejected over a measly sum of money.
Of course, I’m not that deeply entrenched in noble blood. I’ve spent more time as an ordinary commoner than as a noble, so how could I replicate the mindset of a noble?
“Ah, can I get another cup of coffee? I finished it too quickly.”
“Yes! I’ll bring it right away!”
The second coffee arrived, about 30% more than the first.
This is why tips are great. I save face, the shopkeeper fills his pockets, and my stomach remains at ease.
“Uh, Executive Manager.”
As the shopkeeper set down the second coffee and withdrew, Erich quietly spoke up.
“After you finish this, let’s go there.”
That wasn’t a clear noun, but instinctively, I understood where she meant.
She was clearly referring to the mini coliseum where merchants bled legally – a place that her basement-loving instincts couldn’t resist shouting for.
“Do we really have to? There are plenty of other sights to see. Wouldn’t it be better to go somewhere more worthwhile?”
I desperately tried to persuade her. Ever since giving birth to Ferentz, Erich was gradually learning what it meant to be gentler. She still had an immature and lively spirit, but she was definitely distancing herself from cruelty.
If we went to the coliseum, it would awaken Erich’s instincts, which had been suppressed until now. Once that urge awakens, it’s tough to suppress it again. It might be possible because of her maternal instincts, but it would certainly take a good amount of time.
“Travel is all about seeing what you want! Where else can you see something like this?”
“That’s true, but…”
Logically, her point was valid. Travel is about eating what you want, seeing what you want, and doing what you want. If there’s something unique to enjoy at a destination, it makes sense to indulge.
If it weren’t the coliseum, I would’ve gladly dragged her along. How can a local attraction be a coliseum still in action? Even in other worlds, you visit coliseums merely to see the structures, not to witness gladiators battling lions!
“Do we really have to go?”
“Yes!”
“Isn’t there anything else that interests you?”
“Not yet!”
Erich’s vibrant response made me reach for a snack, feeling a bitter taste wash over me.
“Then I guess we have to go.”
With my declaration of surrender, the cookie I bit into was unexpectedly bitter.
This was definitely supposed to be a sweet treat, yet it had a bitter aftertaste.
The coliseum was indeed located to the west, just as the shopkeeper said.
‘A small building, he said?’
But contrary to that claim, the structure stood grandly, towering above the other buildings around it.
“Hey shopkeeper, are you pulling my leg? Was I supposed to tip with Gold Coins instead of Great Silver Coins?”
“Today features a match between Albrecht from Rutis Kingdom and Kazimierz from Bazen Kingdom! It’s set to start in 30 minutes, so we hope for your enthusiastic support!”
“The betting odds are surprisingly 1 to 1! Not manipulated or rounded but precisely 1 to 1! Who’s going to win? No one knows!”
This was insane.
Even as soon as we entered, shouts filled the air, dizzying my senses. It was as if the merchants considered their brawls a regular event. They even encouraged betting to make it seem more engaging.
What kind of havoc did the former Eiselon wreak for things to be quiet down to this extent?
‘Should I forcibly shut this down?’
In a split second, that thought struck me, but I quickly dismissed it.
If it were up to me, I’d want to wipe this horrid building off the map. But removing this center of darkness won’t stop new ones from cropping up elsewhere. Instead of gathering openly, people would likely meet clandestinely once again.
No, more importantly, this insane coliseum was keeping the merchants from brawling in the streets, redirecting that fury towards the Empire. Without it, Hauzentz Circle and the entirety of Northern Hauzentz could turn into hell itself.
“Executive Manager, about that betting…”
“Don’t!”
I firmly grabbed Erich’s shoulder as she was about to dart off.
“Why not? With odds like these, I could test my skills!”
“You don’t need to do that, just don’t.”
Who needs to test their eye for winners…
Amidst the disappointment of Erich pouting with her lips, it almost brought a tear to my eye. That dead former Eiselon has turned into a sad sword for me. What a relentless bastard.
…
‘Betting?’
But something felt off. The fact that betting was happening implied a money-exchanging gambling system. In the Empire, all gambling establishments over a certain size must receive government approval and undergo regular inspections.
Yet I’d never heard of a gambling house situated in Northern Hauzentz. Not during my time as an Executive Manager, nor since I became the Executive Manager of the Information Department.
‘If it’s a small scale, they might not need to report it, though.’
As I recalled the size of the building I’d glimpsed before entering, it was prominent in height and width compared to the surrounding buildings. Just looking at its sheer size, it would lavishly exceed the Empire’s standards. And judging by the fervor of the participants, the scale of gambling wouldn’t be small at all.
“Erich.”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever heard anything about a gambling house in Northern Hauzentz?”
With a sliver of hope, I broached the subject.
After all, Erich used to be the Chief Manager of the Information Department. She might possess information I wasn’t aware of.
“…Huh?”
‘Nope.’
Sadly, that wasn’t the case. Apparently, this gambling establishment wasn’t in her memory either.
“Huh, what’s this? It seems like illegal gambling is afoot!”
“Are you kidding me?”
A fistfight is already insane, but illegal gambling too? Multinational gambling at the expense of foreign brawlers? They don’t discriminate between Empire folk and foreigners when it comes to clientele!
While I wasn’t about to clamp down on it myself, I could certainly not turn a blind eye to something so brazenly illicit.
‘Illegal means tax evasion.’
How dare they profit in the Empire but skip out on taxes? Absolutely unforgivable.
*
The Hauzentz Circle had many gambling houses. However, after decades of existence, only three of them remained standing.
Given their status as illegal, they simply slapped a name on it. But becoming the sole gambling house in Hauzentz Circle, “Three” transformed from a simple name to one imbued with a noble meaning.
Our customers were astonished upon entering – once for their first step in, a second when the players battled passionately, and a third when they succeeded in betting and raked in the money, thus experiencing joy threefold.
‘Why spend on distribution when production happens right at the seated spots?’
Just by keeping the building open, those itching to battle come rushing in. Providing just adequate seating leads to spontaneously occurring brawls, raking in profits.
This is fantastic. This, now, is genuine business. This is true profit. There’s no need to go through the hassle of creating and distributing goods; everything is sourced locally or received as donations. How joyous!
Of course, I didn’t get this golden tower for nothing. I had to grease the palms of the nobles and bureaucrats of Hauzentz. When the Eiselon family collapsed, my heart skipped a beat, but I managed to navigate through by fervently explaining I had the lord’s permission, so it worked out okay.
Naturally, that process required considerable goodwill, but that’s fine. The more goodwill I show, the more stable this golden tower becomes.
Yes, my golden tower stood unshakably strong, yet…
“Chief Regional Manager. It seems we’ll need to conduct a thorough investigation into the regional governors and their secretaries. There are those who dared to blind the eyes of the Chief Regional Manager.”
— I apologize, Your Highness. It’s… my fault.
That young man with black hair stared at the communication device, clicking his tongue softly. The arrival of that young man had caused my golden tower to crumble.
Sometimes, I do run into a situation where a passionate young official with a sense of justice or an aristocratic guest wanting to get his hands dirty questions the legality of this place.
“Oh come on, a little deviation adds spice to pleasure! And those foreigners fighting are not Empire citizens; how can we impose the heavy laws of the Empire upon them? They deserve no such dignity!”
Each time I extended a gesture of goodwill, I thought it would slide by smoothly.
“This is madness.”
And just as I showed my goodwill, that young man with black hair stiffened his expression and wrecked my office.
And I do mean wrecked it. The walls, ceiling, floor – all obliterated with a single punch.
‘The Executive Manager of the Information Department.’
And only then did I realize. That black-haired youth was the Executive Manager of the Information Department.
I felt a surge of injustice. I was fully aware of the events I needed to keep an eye on to maintain this golden tower and the people I had to avoid. Naturally, I also remembered the appearance of the Executive Manager.
But, wait, wasn’t the Executive Manager on vacation? Didn’t they say he was enjoying a leisurely break over at 제도?
Who would think that a vacationing Executive Manager would handle work…? I thought it must have been someone who merely bore a slight resemblance!
‘All because of this insane workaholic! What the hell is this!’
The tower I’d constructed over decades! All because of that damned workaholic!
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