An investigation was launched into the Parcion Army.
From the perspective of the Galactic Empire, their drones were ancient relics. It was clear that regions locked in a cycle of constant Extermination War developed technology at a completely different pace. Compared to neighbors like the Latarnia Nation or the Proone Nation, who were reviled by everyone around them, these people had absolutely no sense of crisis.
Their production capabilities for things like pots, knives, and goods for one-coin shops were actually quite high, but since the workers lacked any shred of motivation, the actual quality of the output was mediocre at best.
What a disappointing country.
I attempted to interrogate the perpetrator caught in the act... but he committed suicide. Or rather, he tried to. He shot himself in the head, but people’s hands usually shake in that moment, and they mess it up.
According to data logs from the wars against the Zork, about forty percent of those who tried to shoot themselves before being killed by the monsters failed. Shoving the muzzle into your mouth is the only way to be sure you don't miss. Because of that, I already suspected this was actually a murder.
The guards had conveniently vanished, of course. But my spider-type drones had captured everything in crystal-clear detail. Three guards had pinned the man down and shot him in the head to silence him.
And I’d been told there were still trustworthy elements in the Parcion Army... apparently, not a single one of them could be trusted.
I hate this kind of thing!
Cue the storm of purges!
Mass arrests followed. The reliable Chronos Army handled the crackdown. I stood at the front, personally visiting the homes of the military brass.
"Arrest them!"
They tried to resist, drawing their guns, but the bullets just bounced off my Personal Shield before I beat them to a pulp. Guns? I didn't need them. I had brought a crew that didn't need weapons to break people. I was going to grind the pride of the Parcion Army into the dust.
"Quiet down, you!"
My elite soldiers, overflowing with loyalty, beat the unmotivated thug-soldiers senseless without holding back. Even if they stayed quiet, they still got thrashed.
"Your Majesty. It is finished."
"Alright. Now, do you lot have anything you want to say to me?"
A middle-aged officer started screaming at me. "You filthy invader!"
"Look, you're the ones who dumped this bankrupt country on me. I never wanted this place to begin with."
To put it bluntly, I didn't want it at all.
"Even these races are for economic stimulation. The quality and quantity of your rations have gone up, haven't they? What exactly are you dissatisfied with?"
"You're a devil who exploits us!"
"Wrong! I'm the one being exploited! Do you have any idea how much of my own money I've poured into restoring your infrastructure?"
In reality, if you balance the economies of the Lepsitol Nation, the Parcion Nation, and Chronos correctly, it essentially pays for itself. Economics is a terrifying thing. But the seed money came from my company, and I've dumped a massive amount of my personal assets into it, too.
Of course, neither of those sources counts as my personal living expenses, and it's not money I can just blow. Most of my wealth is managed by an Investment Bank. My actual living expenses come from my military salary—the pay for my Specialist roles in the Chronos Army and the Galactic Empire.
Sure, the Palace provides two meals a day and free rent and utilities, but that's my workplace. I'm at my job twenty-four hours a day. I pay into the Military Pension and the Military Mutual Aid Association for both Chronos and the Empire.
Even when it's my own money, I have to submit a business plan to the bank and ask for permission, like, "Is it okay to use it for this project?" On top of that, my only personal belongings are manga, anime, games, and my private tracksuits. Plus some camping and cooking gear. Beyond that, even my underwear is military-issue. My car is a mamachari. Where exactly is the "exploitation" in that?
"You don't know the first thing about my life, do you?"
"He's right! His Majesty is even banned from motorcycles! His only vehicle is a bicycle!"
A Chronos soldier chimed in to defend me... though it felt like he was shooting me in the back. Friendly Fire.
"Maybe I should start an expensive hobby. Like goldfish or medaka..."
"With a cat in the house, sir?"
"Oh, right..."
I already had my cute baby, Kinako, at home. Nishikigoi were a no-go, too; they were mouth-sized for a cat.
"How about... bonsai?" a Lepsitolian Ninja suggested.
"But they don't grow fruit..."
I didn't have much interest in gardening if I couldn't eat the results. Because of that, the most I grew were things like Figs and Blueberries. I also rented a plot to grow potatoes.
"...What am I supposed to spend money on?"
A heavy, depressing atmosphere descended. Even the Parcion officer looked at me with pity.
"...What exactly is exploitation, anyway?"
"Well, I mean..."
"Explain in detail exactly who is exploiting whom. Go on, I've got nothing but time. Let's hear your side of it."
I questioned him expressionlessly, despite the fact that I was absolutely livid.
"My wife told me that if the rich don't spend money, the economy stagnates. After agonizing over it, I finally gave in and let the bank invest most of my wealth. Don't go asking the impossible of a farmer's third son."
"B-But we were in such poverty—"
"Because your work ethic is so nonexistent that your productivity is in the gutter. That's why I had Claire set up the Collective Farm system. I didn't even want to do redevelopment. That's why I left the Old Town alone and only cleared out the Slums."
"But... our culture..."
"That's why we're doing restoration work in the Old Town, and why I built Art Clubs and museums to preserve your historical buildings and heritage. Because every time you lot get a spare moment, you try to smash cultural assets because they 'exploit the workers.' I heard you tried to blow up a Goddess Statue on a cliffside. That's the problem!"
"We have our traditions!"
"And I've already started a preservation project for those, too. You people banned local dialects and stripped Minority Ethnic Groups of their traditions. As a Japanese-descended person, it makes me want to murder you all. We live for history and traditional culture."
"Those were cultures that should not exist!"
"Recording the process of how you became who you are is what matters. There's no 'good' or 'bad' in culture. Are you some kind of toxic parents who throw away their kids' photo albums?"
He went silent.
"Whatever. Take him away. And now, a message from the King of Chronos to the rest of you."
I opened a communication channel to the Entire Parcion Army.
"I have officially designated you all as trash. I'll take on any of you, anytime. Come at me with the same casual attitude as an Ogre God Nation Person. However, every time you lose to me, your wages will be docked as part of your collective responsibility. I'll forgive anyone who snitches. If you think you can kill me, give it your best shot. Also, for those of you worshipping the Zen God Race—I'm going to crush you. Don't worry, though. I'll preserve your history and records. Maybe in the future, there will be a version of history where I'm the bad guy."
It was a full-blown Demon King Descent. Time for some legal oppression!
"Starting with the Army. Because of this guy, everyone gets a pay cut."
"W-Wait! That's absurd, no matter how you look at it!"
"If I were a real dictator, I'd have executed the lot of you. It's just a pay cut. Be grateful."
That said, under our national Labor Law, wage cuts for workers are limited to ten percent. That applies to civil servants, too!
I hate the Labor Law! I just want to scatter these guys for no reason! Oh well, I'll just make them watch each other! Heh! Idiots!
And so, after that heart-wrenching episode, Isono's Rally began.
Can I just go to sleep now?