July 16th, noon, Upper City, Ministry of Finance Building.
The Kingdom’s Ministry of Finance stood majestically on the riverbank, with gently flowing water and lush green grass at its feet—a scenic and pleasant view.
It was a sight that could make one linger and forget to leave.
However, in stark contrast to this tranquility, the Ministry of Finance building itself was practically overflowing with bustling, feverish activity.
This was the heart of the Kingdom’s reform.
Countless bureaucrats clutching briefcases hurried in and out through the main gate, exhaustion etched on every face, yet none dared to slow their pace.
Many of them had just returned from distant provinces, travel-worn and weary, only to set out again for the next town requiring the new policies to be implemented.
Fresh blood was pumped out from here, determined to make this ancient Kingdom’s nearly stalled heart beat powerfully once again.
Viscount Bernard de Laval had already finished his third meeting of the day.
At lunchtime, he sat down somewhat numbly in the dining hall with his tray, watching Count Albert Bernard across from him wolfing down his food.
Bernard felt the food on his plate taste like wax.
Sigh. I want to go home.
He missed the meals his son cooked, the black tea Marianne brewed, and that residence filled with laughter and joy.
Seeing the Minister of Finance looking completely spaced out, his mind wandering as if he might ascend to immortality at any moment, Albert set down his fork with concern.
“Minister, perhaps you should rest for a while?”
Albert was not only the Special Advisor to the Ministry of Finance but also served as Bernard’s personal Enforcer.
He and his hot-blooded fool of a son were both powerful Crestbearers. With him by Bernard’s side, the Minister’s personal safety was assured.
Although the Kingdom hadn’t seen a horrifying political Assassination in many years, who knew whether those whose core interests had been touched by the reform might resort to desperate measures.
“Rest?”
Bernard chewed on the word. He truly hadn’t rested properly lately.
Back-to-back meetings, mountains of documents, and the reform details that required endless deliberation had nearly drained all his energy.
But he remembered what his son Allen had once told him.
“Unlimited power also means unlimited responsibility. It’s precisely because too many people wield enormous power while never being accountable to anyone that society ultimately decays.”
In a sense, Bernard now held more power than the Prime Minister.
His Majesty the King had placed supreme authority in his hands, and even the noble Princess Charlotte was working for his reform plans.
Precisely because of this, Bernard trod as carefully as if walking on thin ice, diligent and meticulous. He held himself accountable for every matter, striving to do each one perfectly.
During this critical period of reform, he absolutely could not give his enemies any ammunition to attack with.
Bernard knew in his heart that if his son Allen sat in this position, he would certainly do better and be more efficient than him.
But… there were always some things that needed to be handled by the grown-ups.
“Take a look at this.”
Bernard produced a letter from his breast pocket and handed it to Albert.
Albert took it curiously and unfolded the paper.
The letter opened with Allen’s usual concern and greetings for his father, warmth radiating between the lines.
It also included detailed explanations to the reform questions Bernard had asked about in his previous letter.
Then, Allen mentioned that the Academy had posted results yesterday—he had placed first.
“Your child is truly outstanding!” Albert praised sincerely. “And then there’s my idiot son!”
The moment those words left his mouth, he saw Allen mention in the letter that Hugo’s performance was also quite good, ranking among the top.
“Huh? I thought he was bragging when he said he did well on the exam, but it’s actually true?”
Albert’s face instantly broke into a beaming smile, his voice growing louder.
“Oh my, then I really must thank Young Master Allen for his guidance! That good-for-nothing son of mine finally hasn’t disgraced me!”
“Hugo is a good boy, Count Albert,” Bernard said with a smile. “You should praise him more.”
“I did praise him! Yesterday I even took him to the Continental Hotel for hotpot!” Albert perked up at the mention of it.
“I have to say, that hotpot really has a unique flavor, it’s just… a bit too spicy. That stuff is called chili pepper, right? Is it free or something? How can they put so much…”
Albert muttered to himself while continuing to read the letter, but the smile on his face gradually froze.
Allen shifted gears, mentioning the conspiracy the Guilds and Sword-Bearing Nobles were about to launch, and hoped Bernard would seize this opportunity to thoroughly undercut the traditional Guilds at their roots.
After reading the letter, Albert’s expression hardened. He slammed the table and flew into a rage.
“Those fatherless, lordless bastards! How dare they pull such treasonous schemes in the Capital! Has this Lucien become a den of vipers?”
“Shh, shh, keep your voice down, keep your voice down.” Bernard quickly gestured for him to calm down.
As a Sword-Bearing Noble who upheld the ancient code of Chivalry, Albert was a staunch royalist—one of the reasons he never quite fit in among the Capital’s noble circles.
“Minister, leave this to me!” Albert said with righteous indignation. “I guarantee that within three days, I’ll have all those vermin brought to justice and marched to the guillotine!”
Watching Albert’s agitated expression, as if he wanted to charge out and start cutting people down right now, Bernard chuckled inwardly.
This fellow, when it came down to it, just wanted an excuse to fight.
This whole family really was full of hot-blooded fools.
“This is actually an Agent War,” Bernard explained slowly and deliberately. “We don’t need to get involved personally. My son’s Mutual Aid Association will handle these enemies.”
“Agent War?” Albert looked utterly bewildered. He’d never even heard the term.
“That’s a new word my son taught me.”
Bernard briefly explained the concept, and Albert listened in confusion before suddenly having an epiphany.
“I see… but if powerful Crestbearers among the enemies make a move, wouldn’t Young Master Allen have trouble handling that?”
“Don’t worry,” Bernard said, his tone filled with a father’s pride. “After all, he’s my son. A small challenge like this is nothing to him.”
“That’s true.” Albert nodded in deep agreement.
“By the way, what’s on the schedule this afternoon?” Bernard asked.
“Her Highness Princess Charlotte will be visiting you.”
“Eh…”
Just thinking about that sharp and capable Princess made Bernard feel uneasy.
She couldn’t have discovered that he’d poached people from the Moderate Faction and come specifically to interrogate him, could she?
Or maybe she was here to complain about how busy she’d been lately, and to denounce him, the Minister of Finance, for putting too much pressure on her?
“Prepare afternoon tea for Her Highness,” Bernard instructed. “Oh, and use the best hospitality supplies.”
“Got it. I’ll make the arrangements.”
Speaking of hospitality supplies, Bernard’s thoughts turned to the Kingdom’s severe corruption problem.
Having been a merchant his whole life, he knew exactly how much trickery lurked in government procurement.
However, knowing the corruption was severe was one thing—Bernard had no immediate solution to reverse this crooked wind that had festered for over a thousand years.
“Corruption must first rot from within before worms can breed in it.”
Before the vermin could gnaw at the body of this Nation, the Nation itself had already begun rotting from its very roots.
The Kingdom didn’t even have a dedicated anti-corruption agency.
What was called integrity was nothing more than a difference between taking more or taking less.
Precisely because reform could bring more opportunities for graft, the bureaucrats showed such extreme support and enthusiasm for it.
This was also the fundamental reason the reform had encountered little resistance within the bureaucratic system so far.
Allen had warned him not to touch this piece of the pie for now.
Instead, he should establish a performance evaluation system, use it as the basis for distributing “Integrity Pay,” and first stuff the mouths of these greedy beasts with money.
Skimming money off the common people was not only inefficient but would also create endless future problems.
Allen’s real goal was to broaden these Corruptors’ horizons, so they’d stop fixating on those pitiful few coppers in the commoners’ pockets.
The upcoming Stock Exchange was prepared precisely for this purpose.
Allen was dead set on dragging the entire bureaucratic system into the bottomless pit of finance.
Once everyone’s personal fortunes were deeply tied to the dividends of reform, whoever dared to reverse course or sabotage the reform would find those same bureaucrats leaping out first to fight them to the death.
Bernard couldn’t help but marvel again—his son looked like an incorrigible idealist, yet he understood the filthy logic of bureaucracy better than anyone.
“All under heaven bustle about, all for profit; all under heaven swarm about, all for gain.”
Reform was about making the pie bigger, which benefited everyone.
Only those Sword-Bearing Nobles, shortsighted fools clinging stubbornly to their own little plots of land, happened to also hold the Kingdom’s most powerful force of violence.
As a high minister of the Kingdom, Bernard had long cultivated the imposing presence of one in power.
Thinking of those hateful Sword-Bearing Nobles, he frowned with disgust.
That intimidating, wordless authority made passing officials in the dining hall feel a chill run down their spines, and they all gave him a wide berth.
“His… what’s gotten into the Minister?”
“No idea. Did some department’s budget run into problems again?”
“Keep your voice down! Don’t let him hear you!”
The Ministry of Finance officials exchanged nervous glances, holding their breath and making even their eating movements cautious.
Just then, a guard hurried over and reported quietly at his side.
“Sir, there’s a suspicious fellow outside claiming to have extremely urgent matters he wishes to report to you personally.”
“What identity?” Bernard wiped his mouth with a napkin without looking up.
“He claims to be the head of the Blacksmith Guild.”
Hearing this, Bernard brightened with amusement.
Allen had mentioned in his letter that if the Sword-Bearing Nobles truly made their move, some of those Guild leaders would inevitably crack under pressure and come to pledge their allegiance.
And here he was.
My son—he truly leaves nothing to chance!