28 — 3 (8)

“Could you delay the final approval, Consul?”

Final approval lay within the consul’s authority. In the end, the one who issued approval was the consul. Even if only in form, the fact remained that he sat at the top of power.

Max was trying to buy time. Overnight, the once overbearing Max had changed this much. Yes—power struggles were this petty.

Louis had done something dirty as well; for that reason, he felt the weight of responsibility.

The document at the very bottom was exactly what Max wanted.

Approval of the death sentence.

The petitioner, of course, was Dekal. Louis pulled out the last page.

Max’s eyes reddened.

This was it. If this were refused, Max could gain time.

Max’s heart began to pound like mad.

How many lives were contained in that stack? All the low-level administrators Max managed were included. At least the core nobles among the officials were not condemned to death. A noble guilty of a major crime was exiled. A noble was still a noble. Execute the wrong person and the fighting would spread.

Louis was not yet strong enough to bear that spark.

And, of course, Pense had vanished. Marked as missing, he would not be found anywhere.

Max had plenty of hands and feet—subordinates he had personally raised for years.

Max’s mind whirled. Now was not the time to find the cause… he had to negotiate.

Louis lightly fluttered the papers.

It was as if he were shaking a carrot.

What followed from Louis’s lips was merciless.

“…And why should I?”

He had to choose his words well here. Matters had already grown enormous. Naturally, the theft of food to a secret storehouse would be reported to Duke Remitri.

Since that grain came from the directly governed territory, it was as if Max had embezzled the duke’s own wheat.

If it spread, Max would be executed at once. Nobles had ranks. If the duke himself prosecuted the crime, not even a noble could avoid execution.

Therefore Max had to make it seem as if, though he ordered it, he had not.

“I apologize for the trouble caused by those beneath me, Consul. If you desire compensation… I will pay it.”

Compensation. Max wanted a deal.

What could Max give Louis? Power? No—money.

Max’s family had considerable wealth. Louis could return these men to Max and take money in exchange.

That would solve the fiscal problem—but only that.

The roots had to be pulled out.

If he were not going to press on, there was no reason for Louis to have taken such risks.

As expected, Louis’s answer was refusal.

Without a word, he set down the papers and took up his pen to sign.

“St—stop! Please! I’m not asking for all of them! Please, spare just a few!”

It was practically a scream. Max was sweating buckets. Lose them, and his political life was over.

He would have to finish out his term here, but even if he returned afterward, there was no hope.

The eldest brother might overlook it, but the second was ruthless in such matters, treating subordinates like expendables.

“…Are their lives precious to you? Then you should have treated the citizens as precious, too.”

Louis signed.

Max’s pupils dilated. Once signed, this was…

His heart, ready to burst, crushed his reason.

Max lunged and grabbed the papers. The table shattered; ink splattered across the floor, and the tower of documents scattered in all directions.

Louis growled, low.

“…What do you think you’re doing?”

Max, sprawled disgracefully, clutched the papers. He raised his hand to tear them apart.

It would not solve anything, but the young Max, never cornered this far before, simply could not withstand the pressure.

Guards rushed in—those inside, and even the soldiers waiting outside. Twenty men poured in at once.

Because of assassination fears, Louis had borrowed troops from Dekal.

The slave girls were startled—one collapsed, one fled outside, and two froze.

As the guards swept in, surrounding the vast office, some measure of sense returned to Max and his hand paused.

Louis did not miss that instant and shouted:

“Stop. The moment you rip that paper, you bear responsibility. I’ll send you straight to my father. Do you think he’ll be as lenient as I am? You’ll stand a formal trial and hang. Think carefully. I’m not sparing you out of ignorance.”

Power was… strange. In truth, responsibility should rest at the top. The idea came from above, and those below merely did as ordered.

And yet, power could sometimes pay for itself with the lives of subordinates.

It was unfair, but this principle had never changed.

Perhaps it was the very crystallization of human selfishness?

Max froze. His reason returned. Louis was not lying. If he tore it, it would go straight to Duke Remitri.

Once it reached the duke, even Pierre, Max’s superior, could do nothing.

No matter that he was the duke’s son—Remitri was a rather strict literalist.

Because he felt responsible for his men’s lives—and because some among them were nearly friends—Max had lost his head; but now, he had to concede defeat to Louis.

It was sudden, but reality had become so.

He could save his subordinates and die himself—but sadly, Max was not that type of man.

In the end, Max’s choices narrowed… to one.

Max dropped the papers and fell to his knees.

“I… I am sorry.”

Louis brushed off his clothes. Ink had splashed across them. Shedding his coat, he addressed the girl who had collapsed.

“What are you doing? My clothes are dirty. Bring me a fresh set.”

“Y-yes? Y-yes, right away… Consul.”

The girl shoved past the soldier blocking the doorway and ran out.

Louis pushed the table aside and walked slowly toward Max, still kneeling.

He picked up the half-crumpled papers from the floor, tapped them straight, and said,

“Stand. We’ll pretend this never happened.”

Max rose with a hollow look. A soldier tried to support him, but Max shoved him away.

Without a word, he left.

Louis stepped onto the open terrace with a complicated expression.

The city spread before his eyes.

The remaining girls and soldiers began to tidy the scattered papers and wrecked table.

Until recently, Prisoner No. 331—awaiting death in Proia’s hell—had been granted the right by Louis to reclaim his name and was reborn as the gladiator Kaiser.

While Louis handled affairs, he had already fought five matches.

And every result was overwhelming.

There was good reason. Kalbang taught him swordsmanship daily, and he received ample meals.

Though still a prison, he had his own private room. That room was open to death-row inmates about to fight their first match to become gladiators.

Anyone could see inside. Now, the prisoners were watching a sight that might be their last.

Because their mouths were sealed, they could not make much noise. Pressed to the bars, they stared at Kaiser.

Their hands were bound as well to prevent bloodshed among themselves, so all they could do was watch.

And, strictly speaking, they were not watching Kaiser.

More precisely… they were watching the woman on top of Kaiser.

“Hff… huff…”

“Haah… haah… haah…”

Sounds tangled together. The woman was a prostitute. Perhaps not exquisitely beautiful, but certainly enough to set a young man’s blood boiling.

A reward for Kaiser’s victories—provided according to Louis’s design.

Kaiser was rough.

A gambler… sometimes killed. Kaiser had a few unofficial killings to his name. Now that he was seeing sanctioned blood and learning swordsmanship, he had grown even more violent.

Kaiser brought his hand down mercilessly on the woman’s backside.

The excitement mounted higher.

“Kaiser, the Consul is coming. If I report you’re… occupied, the Consul will meet Kalbang first. Want me to do that?”

The soldier was on familiar terms with Kaiser—call him Kaiser’s assigned handler.

Without the slightest hesitation, Kaiser said,

“No. The Consul comes first.”

Kaiser withdrew from the woman.

She rubbed her reddened backside and flicked her tongue.

“Oh? Since when do you…?”

“The Consul is… my god. I don’t want to show him a disheveled look. Get this woman out, quickly.”

“If I remove her… that’s it for your reward this match. You sure?”

“I don’t care. I’ll just cut someone down again.”

Whistling, the soldier unlocked the cell and hauled the woman out.