The Doomed Fief’s Dying Lord (10)

Construction on the site was gradually entering a full-fledged phase.

That meant the number of issues to handle would multiply.

A site is a jungle where all sorts of variables run wild.

Avenger reported problems to me every day… no, every hour.

I rubbed my furrowed brow.

“So do you think the leakage problem will happen again?”

“According to the site supervisor, yes.”

The current site supervisor is Izack.

‘If Izack says so, then that’s probably the case.’

He’s prickly, but he’s someone who does his work reliably.

At least in work matters, I judged him someone you could fully trust.

‘He’s a professional too, then.’

A person who distinguishes the parts of a project clearly.

I liked that kind of person.

Frequent problem reports are tiring, but it’s a hundred times better than covering things up and not reporting them.

Nothing is more dangerous than a middle manager who hides problems.

Still, if I could wish for one thing…

‘It’s nice to have someone who reports briskly, but I wish there were people who would solve problems on their own.’

A greedy thought.

“Anyway, we need to come up with a solution for the leakage issue. A large-scale construction might be necessary…”

“I do have an idea about that, though.”

I looked up at Avenger.

As expected… our Steward had come to save me.

“Oh. Please tell me.”

“What’s mainly at risk from leakage is the raw materials. Things fermenting in barrels are already off the floor, so they aren’t a big problem. The construction scale can be relatively small.”

I nodded and pressed him for more.

“The barley being processed. We’ll make floors only in that working area.”

“Floors?”

“Yes. That way, if leakage occurs, we can contain flooding only in the problematic zones.”

A simple but clear solution.

Seems worth considering, doesn’t it?

If only a few issues are resolved…

“As for the workspace scale that needs flooring and the cost…”

“Of course I calculated it. Administrator Ronari helped me.”

Wow. Finally the talents are starting to create synergy?

‘Yeah. This is what makes managing the estate enjoyable!’

“It shouldn’t be a huge financial burden. There are some unused houses around the brewery site. We can source materials for the flooring from there.”

“As expected of our Steward!”

I unconsciously patted Avenger on the shoulder.

“…May I proceed with it?”

“Of course! Please do. We trust only the Steward!”

“Understood. Thank you for trusting me.”

Avenger smiled and left.

Ah… how long has it been since things flowed so smoothly?

’…So I thought.’

…I was wrong to think that.

“You should at least explain. Why on earth is it not allowed?”

“If it’s not allowed, it’s not allowed. If you want a reason, don’t press me here… go to your young master and get an order to submit a statement of reasons. I’m not your subordinate.”

Izack snapped.

At the same time, his gaze briefly swept the workers.

But Avenger kept glaring and raised his voice.

“We don’t have a minute to spare! The young master is the busiest of us all. For such a trivial matter… “

“Why are you the one who decides what’s trivial?”

Izack scowled, eyes flashing.

Avenger didn’t look like he would back down either.

‘Right. I wondered why this sort of thing hadn’t happened yet.’

Where there’s synergy, friction is bound to appear too.

Less than half a day after entrusting the work to Avenger, a problem erupted.

I tilted my head and whispered to Ronari.

“…Why is the atmosphere like this?”

“Ahaha… I don’t know. I was just called here too.”

“Did you try to calm them?”

“Of course.”

“And the result?”

“As you can see…”

Not great.

Raised voices volleyed again between Avenger and Izack.

“I understand you’re the site manager. But if we can’t even handle this among ourselves, starting operations by the deadline will be impossible.”

“That’s none of my concern. And it’s not yours either.”

“What do you mean it’s none of my concern!”

“You don’t understand. Get lost. Don’t interfere… go do your job. Don’t ignore procedures and throw a tantrum.”

“Are you even listening? I came because the young master told me to push the solution. I’m not here to bicker with you!”

“…Damn it. If you won’t leave, then I will. Those upper-class bastards…”

Izack turned his back and walked away.

I prayed.

‘Please don’t look this way. Please don’t look this way. Please don’t look this way!’

But Lee Jungwoo, you fool.

Where do you think you walked in?

‘Where? I came in at the worst possible spot, damn it…’

I was near the exit.

Izack, leaving the site, immediately spotted me.

“So, while you’re squabbling, your young master has arrived. Is this the efficient way you handle things, Steward?”

He mocked Avenger while looking at me.

Avenger’s face flushed with embarrassment.

‘Damn, should I not have come?!’

Izack brushed past me and left the worksite.

I missed the timing to stop him.

Was it even right to try to stop him?

What if I’d grabbed him while I was still thinking?

‘Ahh, I don’t know what’s right!’

Everyone…

I boasted about coming from the finance team and all, but…

The truth is I have no managerial experience.

Still, being an assistant manager in your early thirties is impressive, right?

Isn’t it?!

‘But the great Lee Jungwoo…’

Has no idea what to do at times like this.

What comes to mind now?

Organizational behavior, human resource management… lecture bullet points…

I rummaged through the textbook in my head.

Did I ever learn how to handle this exact mess?

‘Jungwoo, Jungwoo… could that even be possible?’

Then Ronari asked,

“What should we do now? Should I go and try to calm my father down…?”

“No. It’s fine.”

In the end, there’s only one thing I can do in situations like this.

“…Let’s resolve this step by step.”

Step by step.

There’s no scarier phrase in a workplace than that.

“I’m sorry, young master. You entrusted me with this work…”

“Oh, it’s all right. Tell me how the problem came about.”

I tried to comfort the dejected Avenger.

“Well… I don’t really know. I came to discuss putting flooring in the workspace, but Izack, the site supervisor, rejected it as a ridiculous plan. He didn’t explain why.”

‘Figures. It looked that way to me too.’

Was Izack’s eccentricity flaring again?

I knew he resented those in upper ranks.

But I didn’t expect it to explode like this.

‘Was he annoyed he had to take orders from Avenger instead of me?’

I could sympathize.

From a subordinate’s perspective, having more bosses is awkward.

It means more people giving orders.

‘Still, why wouldn’t he even explain the reason? Why be so stubborn?!’

Should I go smooth him over myself?

That would be tedious.

‘And who knows if it would work…’

‘Something doesn’t add up.’

I don’t know what it is, though. Haah.

I sat on the edge of the workspace to think.

Ronari leaned against the opposite beam.

I asked her,

“I think your father is quite capable, Administrator Ronari.”

“As his daughter, that’s very nice to hear, but…”

She trailed off, eyes flicking toward where Izack had gone.

“Now that such a father has stormed off… ahaha… it’s embarrassing.”

He did stomp out.

Still, Izack is truly useful.

Originally, his role was brewer.

I thought teaching him brewing would be enough.

But later, we leaned on him for everything: siting, design… nearly every step tied to brewing.

The tasks I gave him were probably more, not fewer, than those I gave Ronari or Avenger.

“But the problem is, someone who worked diligently till now rejected the proposed solution, fought with the Steward, and now he’s disappeared.”

“I’m sorry. It’s because of my father…”

“No. Without Izack, we probably wouldn’t have come this far. We have to persuade him somehow...”

Persuasion.

Persuasion, huh.

As I tasted the word, something clicked.

‘What was the fundamental reason Avenger couldn’t persuade Izack?’

Simply titles?

Or procedures?

‘No… this organization was born ignoring procedures. It’s not like Izack to suddenly obsess over them now.’

If so…

“Ronari, what do you think of Avenger’s solution?”

“Ah… flooring in the workspace? I think it’s good. There were also alternatives to trim the extra budget.”

“But if you were to nitpick?”

“Nitpick? Hmm… people tripping on the floorboards?”

“People might trip.”

I echoed her.

It really was a nitpick you could call ‘forced.’

But such details can escalate into big problems on site.

Maybe Izack noticed something like that…

At that moment, Pietro interjected.

“Looks like my son-in-law caused trouble again.”

“Grandfather.”

“Sir.”

We bowed to Pietro.

“I apologize on behalf of my son-in-law. He bears strong resentment toward upper-class folk. Please forgive him with a generous heart.”

Resentment toward upper-class people, huh.

That sparked a sudden curiosity.

“I can understand Izack’s feelings. But I’m curious about something…”

“Please, go ahead.”

“To be honest, I don’t fully understand your feelings, sir. I’m grateful, of course, but why do you cooperate with us upper-class people to this extent…?”

I’d entrusted Pietro with site personnel management.

We leaned on him no less than on Izack.

Pietro was reliable.

In the awkward space between Izack and me, Pietro was the mediator… since the day I visited Ronari’s home, he’d played that role.

‘Even though they’re both lower-class, their attitudes are so different…’

The person who seemed more mysterious to me was Pietro, not Izack.

Pietro stroked his bushy beard.

“Isn’t it because the young master explained the reason? We have no choice but to trust you. Otherwise we’re just a single flower blooming in this estate… the mana crystal flower.”

A textbook answer.

But he wasn’t finished.

“…Saying only that would insult my son-in-law.”

“Yes…?”

“My son-in-law is not a fool. He simply harbors greater hatred than I do.”

“Hatred…”

“Indeed. I speak of flames of hatred even I haven’t managed to burn out.”

Hatred.

With that hot-yet-chilling word, the old man stared straight at me.

What is it…?

Why is he looking at me like that?

‘We were on good terms, Grandfather. Why suddenly so scary?’

I unconsciously glanced at his empty hands.

Of course… no shovel.

But this grandfather looks like he could kill me with his bare hands.

‘Did I unknowingly step on his trigger?’

The answer came soon enough.

“Which burns longer: the grief of losing a daughter or the grief of losing a wife?”

‘So I did step on it. Hehe.’

Not pressed… stepped on. The nastiest of landmines.

The topic of a deceased family member clicked beneath my feet.

Haah.

‘I miss Mom.’