Chapter 34: Fun and Entertaining Club Fair (1)
As the time before the club fair dwindled down, I, the Inspector and advisor, found myself quite busy.
To compensate for the time wasted last time feeding Marghetta cookies, I worked with her during the afternoon and shared a few cookies with her whenever she came to the club room. Although she initially declined, seeing her munch away happily filled me with pride.
It seemed that Marghetta enjoyed it quite a bit; she looked cheerful when we tackled our work after the cookie feast. I’ll have to spoil her more in the future.
“Now that the club booths have been designated, the tasks of the student council are complete.”
I strolled around the Academy with Marghetta, inspecting the areas for the club booths. It was surprisingly the most cumbersome task, even more so than managing the budget, as we had to pick locations considering the number of club members, their characteristics, accessibility, and anticipated crowd sizes.
The pastry club booth was particularly challenging. They had the fewest members, but oh boy, were their statuses high! Even some of the escort troops were participating under the guise of helping out. Finding a spot that wouldn’t be crowded while fitting their ranks was no small feat. Plus, it needed to be easily accessible for outside visitors!
Considering all these conditions felt like I was about to lose my mind, but fortunately, thanks to the hard work of the student council president, the pastry club booth ended up in a prime location.
I already can’t wait for the president to graduate. He’ll surely become an outstanding civil servant. New slaves—I mean, recruits—are always welcome!
After ensuring every last booth was in place, the official work of the student council was finally wrapped up. It must be quite the hassle for them to do this every year!
“Great job, Mar.”
“You too, Carl! Thanks to you, everything was easy and comfortable.”
“Just doing my part.”
Honestly, I had only skimmed through some documents, accompanying Marghetta while she did her rounds. Hearing such praise was ridiculous given how little I actually contributed.
Still, finishing a project feels refreshing. Now, if only nothing goes wrong during the fair, everything would be perfect.
Until yesterday, I was eagerly wishing for the fair to begin, but lo and behold, as it dawns on the first day, it suddenly feels like a hassle beginning! sigh
“We’re a new club, so I’m not expecting much. Just sell everything and aim for a top ranking!”
“That seems like quite a bit to wish for.”
As I addressed the pastry club members, Tannian muttered quietly. But well, that’s the bare minimum expectation, really!
They needed to sell everything they’d baked! Otherwise, I would have to deal with leftovers. Achieving a ranking at the fair would be based on our sales and the evaluations from both students and external guests. Honestly, whether or not we hit the top doesn’t matter. Still, starting strong with a good result is always nice, right?
“Given all the hard work you’ve put in, the flavor has dramatically improved! You guys have no shortcomings, so hold your heads high!”
The members, who seemed to be steadily leveling up their skills, ultimately ended up cooking something that tasted pretty decent. After all, Villar’s objective feedback assured me of their improved flavor.
Anyway, after throwing in some encouraging words and a little cheerleading, my role as an advisor drew to a close. Honestly, I already feel satisfied just from having cleared away their works up to now. I mean, where else could you find an advisor like me?
“Let’s do our best, everyone! We’ve put in our best effort, so good results are sure to follow!”
Right after me, Louise took over to inspire the morale. From their perspective, my words might not carry as much weight as Louise’s pep talk.
As I quietly watched their reactions, I discreetly diverted my gaze. I bit my tongue to avoid saying something unnecessary; the last thing I wanted was for them to get lazy and stray outside the booth.
However, as soon as customer evaluations play a part in the rankings, the pastry club’s first-place finish is practically a guarantee.
Who in their right mind would give a poor review to a club with royals and a saint candidate among them? Folks who don’t fit in such a nobility-based society wouldn’t have survived this long. Even if we didn’t rank, just maintaining a pulse might get us a miraculous position!
For a club that has diligently prepared, it might seem unfair, but what can be done? This is merely an outcome of recruiting talented individuals.
‘They’re practically useless except for occasions like this.’
Club members who shine only during the club fair? They’re the type I wouldn’t bat an eye at if they weren’t here. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind paying them off to leave.
With a tiny sigh, I turned my head and locked eyes with Villar, who was donned in an apron. A knight of the royal family wearing an apron instead of armor—how precious!
Seeing his rather dark demeanor, it seemed he was also feeling a little self-conscious. We exchanged glances and tilted our heads away simultaneously, as if we had come to an unspoken agreement. To him, I probably looked like an inspector wandering around covered in flour. Well, at least I look better than a royal knight in an apron!
After sharing in the bittersweet experience of being an overworked mid-tier manager with Villar, I could discern a lively atmosphere approaching as the crowd began to swell, like a distant wave billowing in.
‘Has it started, then?’
The academy is only open during the club fair, but the surrounding city can easily be accessed before the fair begins. The crowds that had booked lodging nearby poured in as soon as the academy doors opened. It seems the fair’s profile is higher than I anticipated.
“Are we all set?”
“Everything is finished. Rather, we should be worried about how many people will show up.”
“Since it’s a bit isolated, it will take time for visitors to arrive.”
The members huddled together, discussing when to open the booths. The academy was spacious, the clubs plentiful, and their pastry booth located in a relatively quiet area. They appeared to be under the impression that guests would take their sweet time arriving. Little did they know!
Silently, I gazed straight ahead, spotting a hazy blur of people in the distance. Yes, this was exactly what I was expecting!
*
The booth opening occurred much sooner than anticipated. It was as if outdoor guests were lined up for a direct charge from the main entrance to the pastry club booth at the speed of all-out sprinting!
The club members looked a bit flustered but quickly regained their composure to greet the customers. Though to be fair, there wasn’t really much “greeting” to do. They merely needed to offer up some tasting samples and hand over what was requested. Given their social standings, I doubt there would be any troublesome customers involved. It was more like serving rather than selling!
And regardless of what the customers purchased, they all headed to the same destination.
“Oh! Fancy seeing you here! How have you been?”
“I’ve been doing well. It’s been unfortunate not to see you due to various circumstances, but it’s so nice to see you now!”
I greeted the smiling nobles back with a grin. These guests were led right to me—not just by chance!
We were practically totems drawing in patrons!
“We met at last year’s New Year’s greeting ceremony, so has it already been a year?”
“Oh, you remember? Haha, I’m honored!”
Quickly recalling memories and connecting dots about who they were and when we last met was no easy task. Yet, for the sake of maintaining good relationships, it was an effort well worth it.
See? Just dropping hints that I remember these faces puts a gleam in their eye! A healthy social life starts from remembering who’s who!
‘How many people are here, for crying out loud?’
While shaking hands, I stole a casual glance around and spotted multiple nobles using the booths, with more following behind. Someone had definitely marked their coordinates, and damned if they didn’t get them right!
The logic behind this sudden turnout was rather simple. I was seen as a legendary Pokémon in imperial social circles—think along the lines of Entei or Raikou, rare Pokémon that don’t show up easily. Unless it was a big event, I was mostly absent from social gatherings.
In fact, the events I did attend were primarily to maintain relations with the Counts of the Empire. The legendary Pokémon of social engagement, however, is the chief of intelligence—suffocated in the Bell Tower. He resembles Ho-oh, just like me; you can see why I feel a rather grim sympathy for him!
“Long time no see. How have you been?”
“Haha, indeed, I’m doing well.”
While I was lost in thoughts about the Information Executive Manager who never steps outside his tower, the individual before me changed. This time, it seemed to be a rather significant player.
“I’ve heard that your son is preparing to enter civil service. You’ll soon hear good news!”
Diluted flattery is also a necessary skill for social climbing.
And thus, the first wave wrapped up.
“Well done, everyone. It’s calmed down a bit now, feel free to take a breather.”
I addressed the members who were taking seats in a scattered array. While they may not have suffered as much as my mind or hands, they did put in some toil! Shockingly, they all stared at me with bizarre expressions, either clueless or perhaps a touch accusatory.
I knew they were aware that while they were building the booth, I was practically shadow campaigning beside them. But come on, don’t give me that look! Did they think I called them there? They came of their own accord!
“Oni, you worked hard too!”
Louise, who had been wheeling around delegating water to the club members and the Forces of Three Kingdoms, handed me a cup of water.
“Drink that first! You haven’t had any yet!”
I subtly pushed the cup back toward Louise. She should be minding her own hydration before looking after others! It’s far more vital for her health than for the physically fit boys!
Yet, when she didn’t budge and tried to reclaim the cup, I simply turned my hand around–then, and with rather hesitant motions, she finally took a sip first. Yes, there we go—good girl!
“And look at those fine young ladies enjoying the fair!”
“Lucky them! If I find the time, I might stroll around like that too.”
Just then, I could hear Rutis and Erich’s voices. When I turned toward them, Rutis was sporting an amused grin as he gazed straight ahead. What’s this about?
As I followed his line of sight, I grimaced involuntarily. A striking woman with white hair and red eyes was approaching, arms loaded down with food. She was munching on a chicken skewer, her steps lively with glee.
It wasn’t particularly troubling at a glance. Given that the club fair is a type of festival, it was only natural that guests would indulge in some culinary delights. However, the problem lay in the woman’s identity.
‘That bastard from the first department!’
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