Chapter 4: Carrots, Sticks, and a Coup de Law

I wore a satisfied smile.

Now it finally looks like things are working.

If you want people to work hard, you have to motivate them.

Up to now they’d been whipped plenty; it was time to show the carrot.

That’s why I promised to raise wages.

But simply handing out money wouldn’t cut it.

The right system has to support the work or nothing runs properly.

Maybe it’s the civil-servant brainwashing, but the moment I saw the laborers, that’s what I thought.

We can clarify responsibility and even make performance metrics.

Because everything had been so slapdash, even a duty roster was a massive upgrade.

Of course, there was dissonance at first.

The initial problem was that no one knew precise time, and handovers weren’t happening properly.

So I established a “two days on, one day off” system.

I also defined the scope of duties clearly.

A response came immediately.

“It feels easier to work than before.”

“Of course. We get two days off a week.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh, you mean the rule that once you finish your own task, you can go back?”

“Yeah. Getting proper rest lets me move with energy the next day.”

“As expected, picking the right master makes the man.”

“Exactly! It’s all thanks to His Grace Carius.”

“May he live long and rule long.”

“What are you doing? Don’t just worry—offer a prayer.”

• Interest
  

“R-right. I will.”

The chorus of praise grew louder day by day.

Even Steward Miller Xavierre, who had been dubious, had to admit it.

Efficiency really did go up.

Forced work versus voluntary work.

The latter naturally works better.

“I can hardly believe it. Those who only pretended to listen are working this hard…”

I gave a light shrug.

Labor costs for them weren’t even that big.

House Carius is an old ducal line.

If a handful of gold coins buys loyalty, that’s a bargain and a half.

And we boost output besides.

Speaking of which, I want to check how much it’s risen.

Going forward, I should hold interviews with the workers too.

Just then Steward Xavierre offered a suggestion.

“Your Grace, I have something to say.”

“What is it?”

“For now they’ll cheer the improved conditions, but some will try to exploit them.”

I nodded.

That was exactly the right advice at this stage.

There are always those who mistake kindness for a right.

“It’s fine. I’ll set countermeasures right away.”

“May I know what they are?”

“We’re instituting a rewards and penalties system.”

The solution was simple.

Praise when they do well, warnings when they don’t.

And if they cross the line, take their heads off.

Ah—ambiguous phrasing.

Not literally separating head from body—dismissal.

“From now on, if something falls outside standards, issue a warning and report it.”

“You mean not to correct it directly yourself?”

“Yes. Just letting them go is enough. There’s no better workplace than here anyway.”

This world is dyed pitch-black like a dark fantasy.

Comfort and abundance belong only to the high-born.

Everyone else lives a daily hell.

Even for the same work, it’s better to be a servant in a great house.

The mere mention of dismissal will make them tremble.

Losing what you already have is the scariest thing.

“A firm sanction indeed. I learn many things from Your Grace these days.”

“Heh. Think nothing of it.”

“Then I shall return to my duties.”

“Ah, one moment.”

I added one more order.

It shocked Steward Xavierre so much his eyes doubled in size.

“There’s empty land between the wheat fields and the mansion, right?”

“Yes, we were planning to put in a new garden.”

“Build staff housing there. Big and sturdy enough to house all workers.”

“…”

He really was staggered.

Not servants in the mansion—mere wage laborers—getting a house?

He looked genuinely unable to understand.

But he had to bow his head.

Hadn’t he just witnessed the workers’ zeal boil over in a matter of days?

“The details are here. The building must meet these conditions.”

“Yes.”

After watching the workers in the fields a bit longer, I turned on my heel.

Today was Monday.

A day to report to the court.

“Ugh, I don’t want to work.”

Today’s trial concerned Baron Parbiant.

Call it karma.

If I hadn’t ordered an investigation, it wouldn’t have been work at all.

But once I’d resolved to set justice straight, I had to finish it properly.

“How did the investigation go?”

“Just a moment, please. The report should be here somewhere—!”

When I asked in my best solemn tone, the prosecutor flustered.

No wonder.

He was of the Sierre noble faction; he would never have investigated properly.

Sure enough, the report was a disaster.

We asked, and they said “no.” That’s it?

From start to finish, it was all like that.

This wasn’t a child’s diary.

At least dress it up plausibly.

Of course, I’d expected this and sharpened my knife back at the mansion.

“You there. Prosecutor.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Are you playing games with me?”

“Pardon?”

His honestly clueless look was infuriating.

I drew a long breath and released a gradient of rage.

“What is this investigation? How did you get a prosecutor’s post—bribery? Family clout?”

The barrage of venom left everyone dazed.

If the spectators were dumbstruck, imagine the target.

Regardless, I shouted in a cutting voice.

“Court knights!”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Arrest him at once. Charges: dereliction of duty and insult to Imperial authority.”

Some might say I invoke the Emperor too readily.

I disagree.

Baron Parbiant was being investigated for insulting Imperial authority.

And you bring me this kind of report?

That’s tantamount to challenging the Emperor’s authority.

“N-no! You can’t!”

The prosecutor howled, but he couldn’t resist the knights’ strength.

Silence fell over the courtroom.

An absurd scene had just thundered past.

I turned a steady voice toward the prosecution’s side.

“A new prosecutor will be assigned. Your name?”

By coincidence, it was the very man who’d fetched the clergy before.

He stood up, bewildered, and answered.

“Eh? Corbin Sears.”

“Good. Prosecutor Sears, you are the new investigating officer. Redo everything. The trial date will…”

I paused and looked left.

Not the toady Joseph—the taciturn judge.

His name was Kolund Emir, if I remembered right.

“Judge Emir.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“When’s your next open slot?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, or else after Friday.”

For a moment I thought, what a mess of a caseload.

So I have to do this two or more times a day?

But without showing it, I decided.

“We reconvene tomorrow afternoon.”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The trial proceeded completely at my whim.

Impossible in Korea, but here anything was possible.

I was a being with transcendent authority.

The Empire’s sole High Judge.

Who would defy me?

Well, the Emperor might. Is this okay?

I’d been trading on his name a lot.

Just muttering “Imperial authority” made everyone quake.

What master key could be more convenient?

But overuse it and I could get axed in a single blow.

If the real master of the Empire disliked it.

I’ll ease off going forward.

I stared at Baron Parbiant as I withdrew.

Whispers rose on all sides.

“Ahh! He truly knows justice. He doesn’t let even trifles slide.”

“I thought he got lucky last week, but I was wrong.”

“A truly righteous man.”

“His Majesty has discovered a real talent.”

Hear it?

The multitude of voices praising me!

Listening to them, I felt my shoulders rise on their own.

The nobles’ expressions, of course, were ugly.

Leaning too far to one side isn’t good. A case to balance the scales would be nice…

I skimmed my docket quickly.

One rather interesting case caught my eye.

A tangled territorial dispute.

Conveniently, the hearing was set for the afternoon.

Perfect place to show my fairness.

If a ruling favored the Sierre faction?

They wouldn’t be able to complain.

I’d be the person who sets justice straight, faction be damned.

It was a nice picture.

But the trial went the exact opposite of my plan.

“These exhibits don’t match the map. Did anyone investigate properly?”

Something was seriously wrong.

Judge Joseph Padiya leaned in to whisper immediately.

“They say the flags suffered no damage.”

Here we go again, the toady at work.

A typhoon had shifted earth to one side, causing the incident.

Since the soil and boundary flags had moved naturally, one side claimed the whole area as theirs.

The one trying to profit was Count Titus.

The one whose land had been encroached on was Count Brayden.

It was obvious which one belonged to the Sierre faction.

Joseph had subtly sided with Count Titus.

What kind of nonsense is this?

Looking closely, I could see why.

The rows of stakes—flags—had actually slid en masse.

Neatly, along with surrounding trees and soil.

How could there not be a dispute?

And the area isn’t small either.

A real headache.

But one thing was certain.

Count Titus’s claim was excessive.

The other side had offered to pay to restore the original state, but Titus refused to listen.

He was simply rampaging under his faction’s protection.

“They still haven’t found common ground?”

“No, Your Honor. Both sides are too entrenched.”

Judge Emir seemed equally at a loss.

That left one method.

Produce a third result.

While the counts’ advocates raised their voices, I flipped quickly through the Imperial Code.

There’s got to be some sloppy, shoehornable clause…

At Venezuela’s Simón Bolívar International Airport, they charge a breathing fee.

You pay just to breathe—what kind of insane law is that?

And there are stranger ones.

In England, holding a salmon in a suspicious manner is illegal.

Bizarre statutes exist everywhere.

Flipping fast, something suddenly snagged my eye.

This is it.

I almost whooped.

I’d found a clause perfect for now.

My thoughts fell into order.

Time to stage a grand legal coup.

I sprang to my feet and shouted.

“Attention!”

The chattering courtroom fell into silence.

Then I delivered a bolt-from-the-blue judgment.

“I will now pronounce. Effective immediately, the disputed land is transferred to Imperial ownership.”

BANG! BANG! BANG!