3

Hansen arrived the night before the Colosseum opened.

He was so exhausted that he collapsed after briefly seeing Louis. It was partly because he had hurried over a long distance, but also because the glimpse of the city’s dire state left him at a loss as to what he should do next.

When he awoke around late lunch, his worries piled up like a mountain, and then he overheard the rumors that shocked him.

‘Young Lord Louis has stirred up trouble again!’

From what he heard, he understood roughly what kind of building the Colosseum was, but in the city’s current state, it was a reckless act no different from shaking hands with disaster.

It could be compared to the Monument incident that Count Hansen had experienced not long ago when he competed with Louis.

‘There’s something… perhaps a talent invisible to ordinary men.’

‘Those who belittled Young Lord Louis… either they manipulated things on purpose, or he has grown remarkably in these three years. I must see him myself.’

Since the time he had competed with Count Hansen for the governorship, Louis had been on a successful path, and now he was contemplating how to spend the points he had accumulated.

In the midst of that thought, Hansen knocked and entered.

‘Hansen…’

Louis’s trust in Hansen was not entirely reliable, but under the present circumstances, he was a valuable ally. The reason lay in Hansen’s special ability—Double Machination. Outstanding figures always possessed one or two special abilities, and Count Hansen’s skill was precisely Double Machination. The description was simple enough that even Louis did not know exactly what it did, but it implicitly suggested that Hansen was experienced both in plotting schemes and in uncovering them. This was why Louis had been awaiting him for days.

“Lord Louis. Or should I call you Governor now? I heard the news. You dealt the city quite a blow.”

Louis smiled.

“Welcome, Hansen. And I’m sorry to burden you the moment you arrived, but there’s something I need you to do.”

Louis began explaining to Hansen about the city’s food supply.

Although sufficient amounts were coming in, the system was not working properly.

This was proof that someone was intercepting the supplies in between.

Louis wanted to expose this fact, but with so many officials involved, and with his every move being watched, it was difficult to uncover the truth.

In short, if someone could reveal the corruption and secure evidence while Louis drew the attention…

“At the very least, Dekal or Max’s subordinates among the officials will be lost.”

Louis’s scheme was to drag all those officials onto the Colosseum’s stage. Imagine it—those very culprits who had starved the people forced to fight each other with blades in hand. How frenzied would the citizens become at such a sight?

If this came to light on a large scale, a storm of bloodshed would follow.

Hansen felt a chill in his chest as he looked at Louis speaking so dispassionately.

‘He has grown again.’

To Hansen, Louis was no longer the same man who had once fought him for the governorship of Proia.

Louis had grown ruthless enough to grind down hostile officials in his absence.

And yet, this was exactly what Hansen wished for.

A feeble ruler could not survive troubled times.

In this young master, who once failed to fully control even a single city, Hansen now glimpsed the image of a true lord.

“You seem a bit late, though….”

Louis stopped his explanation and asked back at Hansen’s remark.

“What do you mean?”

“If you had shown this side of yourself three years… no, even two years earlier, you would have gathered far greater forces.”

At Hansen’s words that were half rebuke, half praise, Louis felt awkward—but still pleased, for it meant his achievements were being acknowledged.

“What matters is now. So, can you do it? Make sure it’s resolved by next week.”

“By next week…? That is tight. It seems you have some intent behind this.”

In truth, it was because of a Civilization System quest, but Louis left that part out.

“I was a little angry, so I made a promise.”

“To whom?”

“The citizens.”

“If you mean the poor, you may break it. Their opinion matters little. If it’s the merchants, then it must be kept.”

“No, it’s about pride. I want to keep it. So, can you?”

It was as though Louis had pierced straight into Hansen’s specialty.

Could he, or couldn’t he? Of course Hansen could. Time was tight, but this was exactly his forte.

Still, his answer came tempered with experience.

“As you command, I will do my utmost. But I ask that you not place too much expectation upon me.”

It was ambiguous. Yet in that way, Hansen placed himself in a win-win situation whether he succeeded or failed.

If he succeeded, unexpected results would win him complete trust. If he failed, he had already hedged, lessening disappointment.

After sending Hansen away, Louis gazed out the window at Proia bathed in the setting sun.

‘Maintain this pace.’

Before lunch today, the Colosseum had successfully held its opening. The concrete results would begin tomorrow.

The city’s misery had been wiped away, converging toward zero.

Though food was still lacking, methods of distribution were now possible. Louis’s decision was whether to gather more points, or spend the 300 points he had earned from the opening.

The city was in a state of famine, unable to meet the food needs. The barbarians had plundered away all stored supplies, though the farmlands themselves had not been entirely destroyed.

Most farmlands remained intact. The raiders neither had time nor habit of burning them down.

In a sense, the barbarians could be seen as parasites. Whenever their food ran short, they would risk their lives crossing the border to steal more.

If they torched the farmlands, they too would starve, and so both sides would perish.

Thus, things unfolded as they did. The citizens of Proia, suddenly deprived of food, fell into famine. Naturally, dissatisfaction grew excessive, and unhappiness accumulated.

With the special effect of Unhappiness, “Collective Production Decline,” even the farmlands left intact stopped running as the workforce froze. Food production ceased.

To restart the farms, famine had to be averted first. But as someone intercepted large amounts of grain during distribution, famine persisted, and the citizens—stripped of willpower—abandoned the fields.

A vicious cycle.

Yet the moment Louis shattered that state of misery with the Colosseum…

Louis beheld the vast farmland spread before him. By the Civilization System’s land division, the farmlands of Proia he owned covered three tiles.

The population was three, growth halted.

Still, the farmers were bustling, laboring for reproduction.

While Louis was riding on inspection, one of the farmers spotted him and cried out.

“It’s the Governor. Everyone stop!”

Those bent at their waists all turned to face him, their numbers uncountable. If ever there was a spectacle, this was one. Never before in his tenure had Louis received such treatment from the farmers of Proia.

“Governor.”

“Governor.”

“Governor.”

…………..

Like an echo, the people murmured his title, took off their hats, pressed them to their chests, and rose to bow in reverence.

Just days earlier, these very people had turned their backs on Louis. Now they treated him as one worthy of respect.

This was not because of the Colosseum itself, but because of the emergency measures Louis had enacted and the food distribution he had promised.

Most farmers were poor.

Louis’s efforts to win their hearts had been for this very reason.

With their support, the food problem could be solved easily in the long run.

An official managing them rushed over and stood before Louis.

Governors were usually heavy-bodied and stayed inside, rarely conducting inspections, but Louis was the exception.

Never expecting him to visit, the official grew anxious that his own laziness might be exposed, and bowed deeply before Louis.

“What brings you here, Governor?”

“There’s no need for such formality. I only wish everyone to return diligently to their tasks.”

“Understood, Governor.”

At the official’s command, the workers one by one resumed their farming.

Louis also considered erecting a Monument here. A Monument could raise the productivity of one farmland tile by one-third.

But if he did so, he would have to give up the wheat being produced in the direct territory of Pontina.

That land was better quality, capable of producing more wheat, and its harvest came a month or two earlier than here.

In the long run, canceling the Monument in Pontina’s direct domain and placing one here would be the better move, but urgency prevented him from doing so for now.