Currently, the second semester of my second year has started.
Classes take place during the cold months from December to mid-March.
This country experiences fairly cold winters, but snowfall is minimal. So, everyone bundles up warmly to commute to school.
Ordinarily, the second semester includes an external march exercise disguised as a field trip. However, due to various reasons, we already conducted that in the autumn of the first semester.
Instead, the second semester’s final exam consists of performing formation magic—lining up in formations and firing magic spells in unison.
This country prides itself on the quantity and quality of its mages, and the establishment of academies like this one ensures their training and deployment.
One of its hallmark tactics is battle line mage formations, where mages stand in a row and unleash the same spell simultaneously. This is renowned as the nation’s strongest tactic worldwide.
However, no matter how strong a tactic is at the battlefield level, it’s meaningless if the country falters strategically—in terms of economics, politics, or other areas.
There are many issues, but the king’s incompetence is particularly damning.
The king believes “the strongest mage deserves to be king,” which is utterly absurd.
That “might makes right” philosophy belongs to mountain apes, not rulers. A true leader requires not only authority but also immense responsibility and practical administrative abilities to fulfill that role.
Frankly, kings are unnecessary in the real world.
Perhaps simple-minded people feel uneasy without a leader, but in reality, nations are run by bureaucratic systems, not kings.
The notion of a single person governing an entire nation is pure fantasy. Considering the limits of human information processing, no single individual could command the entirety of a nation’s populace.
In the business world, for example: employees follow their managers’ directives, who, in turn, follow their higher-ups.
CEOs take cues from their boards of directors, and those boards abide by the laws set by bureaucrats and politicians, which indirectly dictates their behavior.
Prime ministers or presidents coordinate these bureaucratic systems and politicians. They don’t issue direct orders but delegate responsibilities to trusted individuals in their respective positions.
While this might sound like a simple hierarchical structure, in reality, it branches out like an organizational tree, becoming more complex at lower levels.
In large countries, regional governments often act independently and don’t always comply with top-down directives.
Thus, the middle-tier bureaucrats are the ones doing most of the work. Even in this world, the king isn’t interested in governance, leaving “civil administrators” to handle the actual running of the state.
It’s not just kings—nobles in this world are largely the same.
This is why methods like those seen in imperial China, where the central authority displayed overwhelming power and intimidated local authorities into submission, might be seen as appropriate for the times.
However, using national resources solely for personal empowerment is unacceptable. No matter the justification, using a significant portion of tax revenue and national wealth for personal gain is embezzlement—even if it’s offered voluntarily.
Of course, this argument implicates historical figures who built massive tombs to showcase their greatness. Even so, isn’t that essentially embezzlement too? Maybe it was considered public works back then, but still.
Whatever the case, the current methods won’t hold forever. A time will come when the status quo becomes unsustainable. Nations are always teetering on instability…
Thinking such thoughts, I peeled Ada off from where she had been burying her face between my thighs since morning.
“Ada, what’s today’s schedule?”
“Mmm… gulp ♡ Yes, Lord Exas! This morning, there’s a meeting to discuss the progress and future direction of the game development team. At 10 a.m., there’s a practical demonstration for durability testing magic with the household appliance team in the west wing of the main estate. At noon, you have a lunch meeting with the executives! After that, you’re free for the afternoon!”
“Hmm, not too busy today. Looks like I can finally rest for a change. Wait, what about the academy?”
“There are only classes in mathematics, astronomy, and rhetoric today, so I’ve already sent notice that you’re taking a self-study day!”
“Oh, good. Thanks, Ada.”
I kissed the naked Ada.
Hmm, the taste of my own fluids. Not that I mind much—it’s fine. I’ve even had affairs with pretty boys, after all…
With a snap of my fingers, I was fully dressed. Living without magic feels unthinkable now.
Ada spun elegantly, clothing herself in the process. Didn’t there used to be some kind of hero who did this long ago…?
Now for breakfast.
Recently, I haven’t had time to cook, so I just eat whatever’s prepared.
Eggs and bacon, beans stewed in gravy, a small salad, grilled tomatoes, mushrooms, four thick slices of toast, consommé soup, and milk.
A hearty morning meal warms the body, regulates blood sugar, and gets the digestive system moving.
I dislike baseless “gut-feeling” logic, but humans who stop eating perish.
Even politicians working tirelessly into their 70s and 80s eat well enough to sustain their demanding schedules.
So yes, even “grandpas” wolfing down cutlet bowls or yakiniku possess an extraordinary talent called a resilient body.
That’s why I consciously maintain a balanced diet and never skip sports.
Health management is a professional responsibility. Excessive obesity or frailty signals negligence, unacceptable in the business world…
…Breakfast over.
I flipped through the experimental “newspaper”—or perhaps it’s more like a magazine—while sipping coffee.
Hmm, typos here and here. The photo alignment is off.
The content isn’t engaging—complete chaos in some parts. A few articles veer into conspiracy-theory territory, clearly forcing strange ideas on readers.
Writing requires clarity, logic, and conciseness, especially in newspapers.
This serialized weekly novel, in particular—what is this? Some amateur version of the Mahabharata?
Childish monsters or divine beings fighting with absurdly exaggerated numbers like “a hundred billion trillion” or something… This won’t do. I should assign someone else to write it.
…Actually, never mind. Let them continue.
After all, the writers are my subordinates, mostly teenagers.
This newspaper project isn’t about profit but training them to acquire basic publication skills.
You can’t improve without writing. Publishing publicly is vital. Feel embarrassed by subpar work? Then learn to write better!
For truly competent subordinates, I assign meaningful tasks. Newspaper serials are fine as amateur experiments for now.
So, about work.
Basically, the team is starting to show some promise. While I can’t say they’ve fully matured yet, there are a few who are beginning to become useful.
Ideally, I’d like them to be able to think and act independently, but considering they’re still just teenagers, it feels a bit unrealistic to expect that. For now, I’m satisfied if they can at least execute the instructions they’re given properly.
“Uh, l-like this! C-currently, we’ve identified one game-breaking bug! U-unless we address this, I believe we can’t proceed with the release!”
“Ah, what was your name again?”
“D-Dennis, sir! Master Guru!”
Oh, right, we’re technically a secret society.
Our original concept was something like, “Let’s hide in the shadows, exploit social injustices, and rake in profits through tax evasion!” But this country’s legal system turned out to be so lax that we ended up functioning as nothing more than a regular company with the label of a secret society. I feel like I explain this every time, though.
That said, we kept all the role titles from the secret society structure.
So, instead of being a CEO, I’m the Guru (Master).
Our executives are technically called Demi-Gods (Half-Gods), though I just call them executives.
The staff are referred to as Members (Programmers).
That’s how it works around here.
And about those titles—take “Programmer,” for example. That word doesn’t exist in this world. Because of that, people interpret it in all sorts of ways, often overthinking it. They seem to have settled on defining a programmer as “a being capable of compiling information.”
“Dennis, was it? Alright, Dennis, may I give you some advice? I understand that you’re nervous, but you need to stop letting it show. While I might not mind, that lack of confidence will only make our clients uneasy. Remember, they’re just regular people who know nothing about programming. I’m not asking you to act overly confident, but at least avoid fidgeting or breaking eye contact, okay?”
“Y-y-yes, sir! M-my apologies!”
“You don’t need to be scared; I’m not angry. Just remember this—so long as you avoid doing what you’re told not to do, and do what you’re told to do, that’s enough for a newbie. And if something seems like it’s going to fail, make sure to report it early, okay? The worst thing you can do is wait until it’s completely beyond repair to tell me it’s a problem.”
“Understood, sir!”
“Right… now, as for your progress report—it’s well done. The report is written according to the template, which is excellent. Starting this year, you’ll also be tasked with working directly on debugging programs, so make sure to study up. Of course, your salary will increase in accordance with your responsibilities, so keep at it.”
“Th-thank you so much, sir!!!”
And that’s about it for work.
They’re all so young, aren’t they?
They’re independent and quite smart for their age, but they’re still inexperienced in life itself.
When it comes to raising them into fully-fledged “human beings,” I know that’s beyond my capabilities. I’ll have to leave that to their own efforts.
