Chapter 305

Are These Undead? No, They’re Bureaucrats and Civil Officials
Recently, the merchants have been whining, saying, “We’re short-handed and my subordinates are going to die.” But honestly, looking at our own bureaucrats and civil officials, I want to ask them, “Can you say the same thing after seeing these people?”

In Arland, we’re currently pushing out a mountain’s worth of new technologies that originated from me. We’re establishing an industrial-level production system for various kinds of magic tools.

As a result, an enormous amount of work has been generated: drafting new laws regarding those tools, and massive nationwide public works funded by the treasure we received from Helios and the reparations we seized from the Empire. The bureaucrats and civil officials now live in a world where “Can you fight for 24 hours?” is no longer a slogan but reality.

Yep, they’re busy enough that they practically live in the castle.

I even heard a rumor that the windows in the nap rooms now have bars installed to prevent escape. Apparently, some bureaucrats and civil officials tried to twist the metal bars apart with their bare hands to go home, so they were replaced with orichalcum bars, a rumor that feels disturbingly realistic.

These people regularly take the magical potion I invented, the “Get-Energetic-and-Happy Medicine.” Or rather, they take it too much. Their bodies are highly energized, but their minds have turned somewhat undead-like. According to the Prime Minister, “They’re still usable.”

Indeed, at a glance they look undead, but they still work.

Well, seeing these 24-hour warriors working nearby, I have no intention of listening to the merchants’ complaints.

If you’re short-handed, that means your corporate effort is lacking. Work harder. When I get back, I’ll make sure you accept additional public-works contracts until you can’t complain anymore. Ahh, what a lovely boost to the economy.

“Your Highness, please come baaack!”

“S-Stay away! Go back to the castle quietly! Stop it, let goooo!”

In an instant, my Big Brother was swallowed, no, surrounded, by the horde of bureaucrats and civil officials. Oh, they’re mercilessly tying him up with rope. I can feel their unshakeable determination to drag him back no matter what.

Big Brother can’t exactly cut down his own subordinates who need him, and the bureaucrats and civil officials hopped up on the “Get-Energetic-and-Happy Medicine” are surprisingly strong. He was captured immediately. That much work must have piled up.

Then the bureaucrats and civil officials who captured Big Brother slowly turned their sharp gazes toward me. I stepped back nervously.

“You plan to catch me too? If you swarm me like you did Big Brother, that’s harassment.”

Using a charge of disrespect against the crown is unavoidable in this situation.

“Princess… Work… Work is fun…”

“Tch!”

Their speech is already breaking down. There shouldn’t have been these side effects… They must have overdosed…

But I have a secret weapon!

I pulled the “Get-Energetic-and-Happy Medicine” from my pocket and pointed it at the bureaucrats and civil officials, no, the “undead.”

“Uoooooooh!”

They screamed like evil spirits exposed to sunlight, writhing and covering their faces as they backed away. I stepped forward while pointing the bottle at them. They retreated two steps.

“Scary… Medicine scary…”

“Even after seeing this, you still intend to drag me back?”

“We have a mountain of work, Princess.”

Ugh, these stubborn fools!

There’s no way I’m going back in this situation. I’m certain an absolutely insane amount of paperwork is waiting. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have forcibly restrained Big Brother without hesitation.

If I return, I’ll be buried in work and won’t even have time for mischief. There’s no helping it, I’ll have to sacrifice Big Brother.

If I offer him as a sacrifice, by the time I return home, the workload should be a bit lighter. It can’t be helped.

“Choose. Either you take the medicine, or you compromise by only bringing back Big Brother.”

“…………”

The “undead,” the bureaucrats and civil officials, shielded their faces from the medicine while glancing at each other.

“Alice! You intend to sacrifice me!?”

“… It’s your fault, Big Brother. You’re the one who always rejects my ‘3 o’clock Snack Law.’”

I’ve submitted it three hundred times, and lately he’s been tossing it into the trash without reading it. Absolutely unforgivable.

“That’s not something you turn into a law!”

“Arland is too muscle-headed. At least at 3 p.m., we should cultivate an intellectual, relaxed snack-time habit.”

This country worships strength. Kids list “goblin hunting” as their number-one hobby, too muscle-headed.

Goblins are harmless in Arland. Why? Because they’re exterminated on sight before causing trouble.

In other countries, they’re considered dangerous since they reproduce quickly, but in Arland they’re treated like bipedal pocket money. Kids search for them with shining eyes.

“Well, that’s a discussion for later. I’m going to the Land of Tranquility to enjoy a vacation before I return. So you can take only Big Brother home.”

“That’s unfair, Alice!”

“I’m sorry, Big Brother. I have no intention of being crushed by work. Do your best.

Now then, take Big Brother away!”

“Ooooooohh…”

The “undead” bureaucrats and civil officials know full well that angering me results in substantial damage, like letting the doggos and kitties run around their feet making weird faces at high speed, or ordering mass production of some random invention and forcing them to revise the regulations. I can do many things.

Understanding this, they hoisted Big Brother up and carried him into the armed airship.

“Leeeet me goooo!”

The knights and I silently saluted as Big Brother was taken away.

Once Big Brother was forcibly repatriated, the people of the Land of Tranquility let out a breath of relief. The bureaucrats and civil officials were exuding so much negative aura that they looked unmistakably undead. The pressure was overwhelming. Their hair was messy, their eyes had huge dark circles, and the whites were bloodshot.

Yep, they were simply terrifying.

“But still, that was awful… I think we need labor-standards laws.”

At Takuto’s words, I shook my head.

“There are moves to draft some, but the Prime Minister and the ‘undead’ bureaucrats and civil officials are fiercely opposing it.”

“Why!?”

The Prime Minister says, “Eight-hour workdays violate human rights! It should at least be twenty-three hours and fifty minutes!” And the bureaucrats and civil officials say nonsense like, “Comrades should share the same suffering.”

Meanwhile, the business world is submitting mountains of petitions saying, “Draft it already.” People in charge of hiring are screaming, that’s what they say, anyway.

“The Prime Minister aside, the others just want to drag everyone down with them…”

“That’s why the drafting keeps getting delayed.”

Well, even if it’s never passed, I won’t be troubled. When I don’t want to work, I push it onto those around me, that’s my style. If I hand them some political favors, they won’t complain. I’ve learned that. It’s easy to lure them with bait and dump the troublesome tasks on them.

Since they came using the armed airship’s transfer device, they should already be back in Arland. Unlike the one at the embassy, this one doesn’t have a limit on transfer capacity.

“Now then, I’ll buy some souvenirs and enjoy my vacation until the workload drops. It’s warm here, and the ocean looks nice.”

“In that case, there is a private beach used by the imperial family. Everywhere else risks encounters with water dragons or krakens, so they are unsuitable for swimming.”

Yoshioki, the Foreign Minister of the Land of Tranquility, told us so with a smile. Ever since we helped ship out the Yamata no Orochi, he’s been extremely friendly.

The private beach is protected with a barrier that keeps water-type monsters out. If we want to use it, he’ll arrange permission for sure. Probably as a form of gratitude.

After that, I want to go back to the capital and shop for many things. There might be delicious sweets. Sweets from the Land of Tranquility aren’t listed in the “Continental Sweets Encyclopedia,” a book compiled by who-knows-who that lists every sweet across the continent (probably compiled by the intelligence division). It’s simply too far for Arland’s information network to reach.

Almost every sweet listed in that book can be bought in Arland. That’s partly why I rarely show interest in other countries.

But it is strange that foreign sweets are so easily available. Considering how low this world’s information-transmission capacity is, it doesn’t add up. Not that I care, since it doesn’t inconvenience me.

This country is in a tropical climate, but it does have things reminiscent of Japan. Which means there’s a chance they have daifuku, my favorite from my previous life! If they do, I must buy at least twenty thousand!

I also want fruits. As for crafts… hmm… would they make good souvenirs? I’m not that interested. If there are cool weapons like enchanted blades, I might buy them. But I doubt those are sold in shops.

What, Caliburn was being sold? That was only because when it had fallen and corrupted into the cursed sword Gladius, it killed its previous owner and ended up being sold as their leftover belongings. The shopkeeper wasn’t in his right mind either.

“All right, let’s shop first.”

After that, we’ll also visit the hot springs in the capital. I need to heal my recent fatigue. We boarded the airship and returned to the capital.

Meanwhile, Gilbert—

“What is this…?”

Dragged back, Gilbert froze in shock as he saw the office.

Most of the room was filled with mountains of paperwork stacked to the ceiling. The office contains four desks: one for King Draconia, one for Crown Prince Gilbert, one shared by Alicetia and Sylvia, and one for the Prime Minister. Originally, it’s a room where the King, the Crown Prince, and the Prime Minister worked together. Alicetia and Sylvia are bad at clerical work, but Alicetia recently needed a desk.

The reason all three work here is that information flows faster that way.

Because of that, the office is very spacious. But now, except for a narrow path where two people can barely pass, mountains of documents filled the room up to the ceiling.

Passing through the thin walkway, Gilbert spotted Draconia shriveled up at his desk. Heavy chains were attached to his legs and waist. However, once Gilbert entered his field of vision, Draconia casually snapped the chains, leaped across the desk, and grabbed Gilbert’s shoulders firmly.

“At last… you finally returned! I abdicate. You’re king starting today.”

“… Say that when you’re asleep. I won’t let you retire for another twenty years.”

Gilbert applied an iron claw to Draconia’s head, forced him back into his chair, and chained him up again.

When he glanced sideways, he saw the Prime Minister, Volken, sparkling as he worked through paperwork.

He looked about twenty-something. Overwork had rejuvenated him (his real age is mid-sixties). His desks were arranged in a U-shape, and he was working in three directions simultaneously, producing afterimages like an Asura. His processing ability was tremendous, but even with his speed, the paperwork wasn’t decreasing. The lack of manpower at the palace was severe.

“… You look happy.”

“Life truly is magnificent!”

A hopeless work addict, as always.

He’s like a migratory fish, if he stops working for a year, he’ll probably die of old age.

Gilbert sighed, sat down at his own desk, and began working on the mountain of documents.

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