And so, the investigation of the base began.
I brought in workers and researchers from Latarnia, the Taikyoku Nation, and the Ogre God Nation.
Defense? I didn't bother. Who would want to protect a cursed object like this? These things were likely to leave a bitter legacy for generations to come. They were little more than hexed relics at this point.
Simply finding the entrance to a planet-class battleship was a massive ordeal in itself.
Since the Parcionians were allegedly a warrior race, I decided it was time to reorganize their army.
"Your Majesty. Most of them can't even march properly; they're utterly useless."
The report from a field officer in the Chronos Army confirmed my suspicions. They were pathetic.
It made sense now—this was exactly why the Zen God Race had used the Ghouls to slowly, methodically keep them as "domesticated" livestock for so long. Weakening Parcion had been a vital part of their strategy.
But let’s be honest about what a "warrior race" actually is.
True warriors are composed. They have the quiet confidence of the strong, but more than that, combat is simply a fact of life for them—nothing more than a routine hazard, like a traffic accident or a lapse in caution. They avoid it when possible because they understand the consequences, and they aren’t too proud to bow their heads. Bowing doesn't take anything away from you.
However, the moment a real crisis approaches—or if an enemy attempts to inflict genuine harm—they will kill with clinical detachment. That, too, is just another part of their day.
Conversely, the weak are unnervingly aggressive. They feel that if they aren't snapping at everyone around them, everything they own will be stolen. In short, barking as loudly as possible like the Parcionians did was the ultimate display of weakling behavior.
Still, I was being soft. Human strength is largely a matter of physicality and conviction. Beyond a certain point, talent becomes necessary, but I wasn't asking these people to reach a level where natural gifts were required. If I beat some backbone into them, they’d turn out fine.
I summoned the Chronos Area General Manager from the Space Raiders along with Instructor Huma.
"Private Second Class Kamishiro, reporting for duty!" I said, giving a sharp, mocking salute.
"Could you please stop with the sarcasm?" Huma-san asked, his face twisting into an expression of profound misery. "Even for the King, I know an order when I see one!"
I didn't see the harm in a little joke.
The other man present was a Major, the general manager for the Chronos area from the Space Raiders. In terms of the actual power balance, although the Major held the higher rank, Huma-san was far more influential.
It couldn't be helped; Huma-san was unnervingly good at his job. He was the man who had taken the "Idiot-Idiot Pirate Legion" of Nina-san's family and elevated them to the status of lords and knights. While Nina-san's family still lacked any real aristocratic dignity, they had at least reached the minimum standard expected of a martial house. Her knights were heroes who had helped subjugate the Duke Association.
Time would eventually solve the rest. In fact, the moment Huma-san built an organizational structure that could function perfectly even without his presence, he proved he was a monster. If you think of him as a department head who built a system where the company prints money on its own, you can understand how terrifyingly competent he actually is.
I wondered why the Maro and his merry band ever let go of a man like this. Personally, I had no intention of ever letting Huma-san leave. From an organizational standpoint, his value was even higher than Katori-sensei’s!
"In the names of the King of Chronos and Galactic Empire Emperor Veronica, I order the reorganization and retraining of the Parcion Army. Here are the formal documents."
"Since this is coming directly from the King, I assume you have some truly unreasonable demands in mind?" Huma-san looked thoroughly displeased.
The Major just stood there with a wry, pained smile, looking like a man who desperately wanted to go home.
"I want you to push them to the very brink of death," I told them. "Oh, and take a look at this data."
"What is it this time?"
"Physiological data on the Parcionians. Their physical capabilities fall somewhere between Chlorella-treated humans and the Beast Race."
Huma-san’s face contorted further. He looked genuinely disgusted from the bottom of his heart.
"...So you're saying they are an ancient combat species."
"Exactly. The reason they didn't go extinct despite abysmal nutrition is their inherent ability to synthesize nutrients within their bodies. The reason they could be managed so haphazardly as manual labor was due to their natural physical enhancement. Their excessive rebelliousness is simply a byproduct of malnutrition and a lack of proper exercise. What do you think?"
"Can I go back to the Young Lady's place now?"
"I've already paid the rental fee for your services, so no."
I had already paid a rental fee equivalent to the salary of a star professional baseball player.
"Your Majesty! How are you so damn good at this kind of behind-the-scenes maneuvering!?"
"Just push them until they're useful. Give them hell."
"Ugh, fine! So, pirate-level is good enough, right!?"
Actually, he was capable of much more than that. Huma-san's true power lay in building the "box"—the system itself. Because he knew the world so well, he was a master at creating structures. It was unnatural for a bunch of thugs to have the kind of solidarity his groups displayed. If Huma-san had been on the side of the chamberlains or the Duke Association during the conflict, I probably would have lost.
"I'll leave it to you, then."
Now, I just had to wait. I’d let the situation simmer, nice and slow.
...Suddenly, I felt like cooking. Maybe I'll make some Braised Pork Belly.
While I was preparing the Braised Pork Belly, a worn-out Shiyun arrived.
"Lord Leo... I'm exhausted."
"Yeah, I'm tired too."
The Taikyoku Nation was currently in total turmoil. The "Joint Management Faction" and the "Don't-Want-That-Cursed-Object Faction" were at each other's throats. For me, it would be easier if they agreed to joint management.
Shiyun herself was part of the joint management faction. Deep down, she wanted to dump the entire burden on me, but the military faction backing her apparently insisted on a shared stake. Shiyun wanted to give it to me for the sake of future diplomacy, while her military wanted to manage it themselves in preparation for the coming war with the Zen God Race.
I could see both sides of the argument. After all, the military didn't know me that well yet.
I handed her a bowl of Braised Pork Belly, complete with a Seasoned Egg. I gave her some rice to go with it, along with some Town Chinese-style Soup.
Shiyun beamed.
I then noticed that One-oh-one was already sitting at the table, her eyes sparkling in anticipation. Tatiana showed up shortly after, wearing a pill-covered Officer Academy tracksuit and sandals.
I’d given her a brand-new one, but she was still wearing that old, raggedy thing. Her hair was a spectacular mess of bedhead.
"Give me some grub, too, Big Bro."
"What's the matter? You look beat."
"I've been swamped with purifications and rituals for the planet-class battleships. I ended up on the night shift, so I've been asleep until just now."
"Good work."
I served food to the two of them. I wondered if I should give Tatiana an energy drink, so I opened the fridge. Since One-oh-one looked like she wanted one too, I handed out juices to everyone, Shiyun included. I had to remember to think of them as a set of three.
Man, I was tired too.
Then, Polina-san arrived. She peered into the room tentatively, looking around. The moment she spotted me, her face turned a vivid shade of crimson and she bolted away.
"You're quite the lady-killer, Big Bro..."
"Tatiana, seriously, stop."
Life really was just one complication after another. I really had to do something about this...
Rikochi joined us a moment later. Today she was "Normal Rikochi," dressed in her own tracksuit.
"Quite the lady-killer, aren't you~?"
"I'm pretty sure you're my wife and a primary party involved in all this," I reminded her.
"Oh, I'm well aware I married that kind of man~. I'll just stay over here, watching and grinning~."
How cruel!