Rest began his recruitment drive with his classmates. He caught them during lunch breaks and between lessons, reaching out to those he knew best.
"Oh, definitely. Please, let me join."
"Me too. I’ve got plenty of experience with monster subjugation."
Luid Gistal and Maurice Louis were the first to throw their hats in the ring.
"I’m a third son, so I’ve got no land or title to inherit," Luid said with a toothy grin, making no secret of his reasons. "If there’s even a chance I can strike out on my own, I’ll happily help you break ground."
Maurice was equally blunt. "I’m slated to take over the family business, but... well, I could always use the extra coin."
For now, Rest was ostensibly hiring helpers for monster subjugation. However, he intended to elevate those who proved themselves to be official vassals of the Count Clover House.
To most, serving a newly-risen noble with zero subjects sounded like a thankless, uphill battle. But those with a bit of vision saw the potential. Becoming a retainer for a house with an abundance of land meant a chance at lucrative positions, like becoming a magistrate for a newly founded town. Some might even be granted their own small holdings, allowing them to establish themselves as independent yoriko nobles. After all, the territory was vast and largely empty.
"Me too! Count me in!"
"And me! Don't leave me behind!"
"Give me a shot. I’ll show you what I can do!"
Applications began pouring in from all corners of the classroom. As word of Rest's return spread, students from other classes and grades swarmed him. Most were commoners or younger noble sons, though a few eccentrics applied simply for the reward money, treating it like a part-time job.
"I’ve always thought Rest-kun was so dashing..."
"He has such poise for someone of commoner birth. I always knew he’d go far."
"Would you be so kind as to tell us of your heroic exploits during the civil war?"
It wasn't just young men seeking employment. Several girls approached him as well. Their intentions, however, were less about administration and more about securing a place as a mistress or concubine.
"If you have business with Rest, you can talk to me," Viola said, her smile not reaching her eyes.
"Why don’t we have a nice, quiet chat?" Primula added.
The twins loomed like a wall of ice. "Seniority matters, doesn’t it? Don’t try to go behind our backs—report to us first!"
The girls squealed and scattered in the face of their intimidation.
Rest hoped that was the end of the honey traps, but a few bold souls remained.
"Pardon me," one said, standing her ground despite the twins' glares. "My family runs a trading company. I’d like to discuss building a logistics network for the development of the plain."
"My parents are... difficult. They favor my sister and treat me quite poorly," another whispered. "I’m perfectly fine with being a mistress if it means I can leave home."
"My maternal grandfather is the Minister of Finance," a third girl noted calmly. "I could facilitate quite a few arrangements if I were taken in as a concubine."
These girls were different. They saw the development of the Magical Wilds as a massive business opportunity or were driven by desperate personal circumstances. They ignored the threats and instead presented the practical benefits of their inclusion to Viola and Primula, who actually began to engage in serious discussion with them.
"Well, well," Luid said, slapping Rest on the back. "You’re not just marrying the Rosemary sisters; you’re going to have a harem of mistresses too? I’m jealous!"
Rest looked at him with a look of profound weariness. "Just... leave it. I’m staying out of that conversation."
He turned back to the crowd. "More importantly, if you’re serious about joining the project, please fill out this paperwork."
"What’s this?" Luid asked, looking at the sheet.
Rest handed out the documents he had prepared. "It’s a form where you’ll list your name, your background, and your specific skills. Bring it back to me when you’re done. If you can’t finish it before school lets out, you can deliver it to the Marquis Rosemary townhouse."
He was introducing the "resume." In this world, the standard was a "letter of introduction"—long, rambling prose written by a patron. Reviewing dozens of them was a tedious, time-consuming nightmare. Rest had adapted the concept from his previous life to create something concise and standardized.
"This way, I can see everyone’s background and strengths at a glance," Rest explained. "It’s straightforward, so it shouldn’t take you long to fill out."
"Huh. It really is easy to follow," Luid said, nodding. "Even a guy like me who hates paperwork could manage this."
Maurice, however, looked skeptical. "But unlike an introduction, there’s no patron to vouch for us. What if people just lie about their skills or history?"
"Then they’re only hurting themselves," Rest replied. "I’m going to assign tasks based on what’s written here. If someone lies and says they’re a master of something they’ve never done, they’re the ones who will suffer when they can't do the job. As for their backgrounds, I’ll be running checks before anyone is officially hired as a vassal. If a lie comes to light later, they’ll lose everything—their reputation and their position."
"I see... that’s actually quite clever," Maurice admitted. "It could be used for all sorts of recruitment."
"This might actually catch on," Luid joked.
Years later, their predictions came true. Rest continued to use resumes throughout the development of his territory, and other nobles eventually began to copy his methods. For high-stakes positions where reputation was everything, the traditional letter of introduction remained, but for general recruitment, the resume became the new standard. Eventually, it spread to the merchant guilds and across both the public and private sectors, fundamentally changing how the kingdom found its talent.