How to Live as a Tyrant’s Spoiled Brat Chapter 168

How to live as a tyrant's spoiled brat Episode 168

(168)

Hadritan was a genius in administration and economics who was favored by Jerillis even more than Helena before the return.

He could see everything from his seat on paper, and he could tell who was talking just by smelling the ink.

It would be a lie to say that his noble birth did not play a role in his becoming the Minister of Finance in his thirties before his return, but he could have entered the Imperial Treasury even if he had been born the son of a serf.

“… … So now we need some space on the learning street side. Is there any land or vacant lot nearby?”

He greeted me with his white hair, which he had grown out of a bob cut in the past few months, neatly tied into a short ponytail, wearing expensive glasses framed with buffalo horn, and a slightly cowardly smile on his blue eyes.

Seeing him tremble with his legs, I thought he was a bit anxious, and the moment I came in, he made an expression as if he had been caught, and now that I see him relieved, I think he did something dirty to me, but since he doesn't seem to be aware that he was harmed, I decided to let it go for now.

Hardritan spoke to the senior finance officials, wearing a suit jacket.

“Senior. Your Majesty’s advisor has arrived, so I’ll be using conference room number 3 for a moment.”

The finance officials, who were all elites from the royal aristocracy, nodded their heads with frightened expressions as soon as they saw me.

Hardritan guided me into the conference room, then spoke from outside the door.

“I’ll go around to the relevant departments for a moment and get some information. Please wait.”

After sitting for about ten minutes in a conference room that could accommodate about fifteen people, I heard the sound of something rolling down the hallway.

Thud, thud, thud, thud.

There were also a dozen or so footsteps.

As I was placing my hand on the handle of the Black Tower, wondering if the Imperial Finance Office had been raided, the conference room door opened wide and a crowd of administrative officials in their 40s and 50s rushed in.

They all wore white wigs, wore fancy suits, carried expensive briefcases, and their eyes lit up with gunfire and madness.

Although they were not of the highest rank, they were all high-ranking administrative nobles with strong authority.

“Hardritan. What is this?”

He answered, pasting a map he had been given by an administrator onto the blackboard.

“They are high-ranking officials from the relevant ministries. Judging from the fact that you came all the way here, it seems like this is not an ordinary matter. Rather than getting permission here and collecting documents there, I thought it would be much better if we could handle it all in one place, so I brought you here.”

I glanced over their faces.

Before the return, the emperor and the grand duke left the capital and devoted themselves to war, drinking, and dancing, and these were the elites who kept the country in order.

“Okay. Thank you all for taking the time out of your busy schedule.”

I got up from my seat, gave them a quick greeting, and nodded to Hadritan.

“Get started.”

* * *

Can a person do that?

Philip, a 40-something administrative official and father of two, thought so.

Although he too was of mixed race and noble birth, the imperial family certainly had a different vibe.

People were afraid of Valencian's golden eyes, his slicked-back white hair, and his pale cheeks, but to Philip, those were the words of people who had never met Valencian.

Philip felt Valencian's presence and majesty in his white uniform.

Contrary to his reputation as a scoundrel, his attire was always formal, fit for an audience with the emperor.

The shoulders fell sharply, the trousers had long, stylish pleats, the collar rose like a wall to cover the neck, and the brooch left no fingerprints.

You could imagine how much she would tease and scold her maids to maintain that appearance.

Of course, the reality was simply that Rudi and the maids she hired had very skilled hands, but the illusion was free.

'As long as such a strict person is moving, things will have to go smoothly. If you don't want to break the Emperor's line, you have to behave properly.'

'I'm sorry to call you when you're all busy.'

'I thought you just gave me a sympathetic look? Are you apologizing in advance because you think I'm going to have to change everything?'

Hardritan's thoughts were not much different.

'You must come to your senses. If you don't want to be locked up in a cloistered monastery for the rest of your life.'

He submitted a report a while ago, and the finance minister praised his work and gave him a desk.

The treasury boldly sold the name of Valencianus to implement the policy, and Valencianus got all the blame.

Hardritan swallowed hard and continued his explanation while looking at the map.

“Valencianus. The Street of Learning is geographically located in the northeast of the capital.”

"okay."

“There is no space to the north, but from the street of learning to the east gate of the capital, there are some empty lots here and there. If we can combine all this land and turn it towards the street of learning, the space problem can be neatly solved.”

“If we could call the nobles who own the university buildings and give them permission to build an extension, we could definitely solve the space problem.”

A sadistic smile appeared in Valencian's cruel eyes.

But Hadritan did not relax, and as expected, Valencian did not finish asking questions either.

“They say there are empty lots here and there, so why didn’t you take care of them earlier? It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of them, was it?”

The administrative nobles looked at each other for a moment, expressions of embarrassment on their faces.

It was a truly embarrassing story to explain in front of the royal family, but all the high-ranking officials from the relevant ministries had been summoned, making it difficult to pass this fireball on to someone else.

'You explain. You're in charge of urban planning.'

'You explain. You're in charge of controlling the influx of people.'

'You explain. You're in charge of the merchants' association.'

'You explain. You're in charge of the slums.'

The exchange of words was just a glance, and Philip eventually took a step forward.

“Your Majesty. Originally, the area northeast of the canal was a warehouse street.”

“Warehouse Street?”

This was the first time Valencian had heard of this story.

“Yes. There were large warehouses gathered outside the capital to store goods brought in through the canals.”

“Then I guess I should meet the merchants.”

“However, during the reign of His Majesty the previous emperor, the warehouses were relocated after several redevelopments, and naturally, porters, low-level laborers, and other manual laborers from the capital gathered there.”

Valencian quickly realized that this was a problem of distorted authority.

“Does the merchant association still have the rights to the land on paper?”

“Yes, that’s right. There are still five years left on the contract, and ten years at the most. Furthermore, the porters have already moved in for decades, and it has been a long time since it was stabilized as a residential area, so it is difficult to tear it down.”

Valencian readily admitted it.

Even though the administrative officials were cogs in the machine, it was not expected that they would issue an eviction order overnight to the people who had lived there for decades.

He was different.

“Even if it’s difficult, I have to do it. I guess I’ll have to light the fire again.”

“Valencian!”

“Hardritan. We need space anyway. If the nobles come, their escorts won’t all be able to stay in the hotel. They won’t bring that many.”

“We have thought about it too. We just need to organize the space.”

“Organization? Tell me.”

Hardritan was also a man who worked mechanically, and did not feel sorry for people being stuck between the machines.

However, he was not a villain who would simply nod his head at the suggestion that he would burn down a street and reorganize it.

Hadritan drew pictures on the blackboard together with high-ranking officials from the departments that administered the land on the spot.

“In the end, it’s the land that matters. You can build houses quickly. Just tie up the empty lots and the old warehouse buildings. You can compensate for the same area.”

“Hmm.”

Valencian laughed like a cruel and lazy cat.

Only the yellow eyes shone brightly on the colorless white face.

Hardritan continued, holding the chalk.

“Furthermore, if the escorts of the great nobles come in and the army is stationed in the capital, manpower to serve them is essential. They are all porters and laborers, so jobs will be created on site.”

“Okay, I got it.”

“And I don’t recommend that you get involved in this situation yourself.”

“Why?”

“Your reputation these days is really… … at rock bottom.”

Hardritan never said it was his fault.

“So far, it has been considered your personal deviation, but if it goes any further, it could spread to discontent with the entire imperial family. Yes, I know. You can now burn a few thousand commoners with a wave of your hand. However, the great nobles are coming soon, and you cannot create such an ominous atmosphere in the capital.”

Valencian nodded again.

“I guess I can just set it on fire secretly.”

Hardritan shook his head.

“No. Call the church. Use the excuse of searching for or punishing the invaders to evict people from the streets, and demolish the buildings in the meantime. That would be the most moderate method.”

Valencian nodded.

This time, a truly satisfied smile appeared.

Hadritan was a superhuman who maintained the administration of the empire before the return.

He still hasn't fully decided whether he can trust Hadritan or not.

But he proved himself.

The evidence was that all the surrounding administrative nobles were looking at Hadritan with camaraderie.

“Okay. Then I guess I have to go see the saint again.”

* * *

“Valencian has appeared!”

“Catch him!”

In the early evening, when the heat had subsided, the knights and purifiers gathered on the lawn within the cathedral walls.

The great evil, white-haired, golden-eyed Archduke who had kidnapped the saint twice had the audacity to appear.

“What brings you to this sacred place?”

“Can’t we just move out?”

The knight Angelus stood in front of Valencian with his eyes ablaze.

In his eyes, a bright divine power was burning brightly.

“Those worthless guys.”

Valencianus pushed away the spearheads of the church purifiers with his dark red scaled hands.

The spearhead, imbued with divine power by the protection of the priests, burned Valencianus' scales as it broke, and the Purifiers who saw this hardened their faces even more and thrust their spears forward.

Valencian shrugged and smiled amiably.

“I came to see the saint and go to confession.”

“Confession? You?”

Angelus asked back in disbelief, and Valencianus, cutting through the forest of spears with his body, approached Angelus and whispered.

“You’d better bring the saint. I need the help of the church. If the church doesn’t help me, I might have to burn thousands of people to death.”

“… … !”

Angelus looked at the cathedral, shuddering.

In a fight, the more cowardly one tends to win.

“Everyone, put down your weapons.”

Valencian was able to meet with Matteos shortly thereafter.

Of course, it wasn't a solo session, but was with several paladins and warrior priests.

“Saint. Your complexion is clear and you look healthy. As a believer, I am very happy.”

“Your Highness looks tired today. It must be because he works hard for the Empire every day.”

Matheos's face was twisted into a stiff and deep grimace, but he somehow managed to greet the impudent Archduke.

He had told Argos that the imperial family seemed to be using the Encroachers for political gain.

I wanted to ask Valencian right away.

'If I hadn't put up a curtain of distinction over the entire city that day, what would I have done with the remaining intruders in the city? Of course, I would have thought of immediately exterminating them, right?'

Considering that they had such a small number of people, their anti-Evader weapons were inadequate, and most importantly, their luggage was too light.

“Saint, we need the help of the Church. We need to get people out of these streets so we can search for the eroders.”

Valencian said firmly.

Mateos sighed deeply inside.

This shameless and vile man tried to move the church by putting the orthodoxy first.

“How could we turn away from our cause and mission? The knights… … .”

“No, just give me a little bit of the purification bottle.”

“What?”

The saint expressed his doubts with his face as clear as a sculpture.

“There will be no occupants there. It’s a smokescreen to create space. So… … .”

Matheos gritted his teeth as he listened to Valencianus's subsequent explanation.

I wanted to scream at them to get out right now.

'They must have tried to use the eroders. I will definitely pass the bill. I cannot leave everything in the hands of these secular monarchs. I have no intention of resorting to armed conflict like Bishop Paul Hong. We need to do more. First, the church order… '

But in the end, I just nod my head.

“If you don’t give me your troops, I’ll be the one getting cursed at. I’ll fly across the sky on a wyvern and shoot out fire.”

It was because of those words that were said so calmly.