Chapter 45

Did I Hear That Wrong?

Did I Hear That Wrong? - I Applied Cheat Mode to the War Game - Penguin Squad

Chapter 45

Did I Hear That Wrong?

In front of the headquarters building, a black luxury vehicle was conspicuously parked. The [Imperial Inspectorate] emblem mounted on its hood stood out vividly.

'…Wait. The Inspectorate?'

My footsteps came to an abrupt halt.

Not the awards committee or the personnel department, but the Inspectorate? An ominous chill ran down my spine.

'What on earth happened?'

I immediately entered the headquarters building.

The moment I opened the conference room door, my breath caught. The atmosphere was even colder than I had expected.

'Status Analysis.'

I quickly swept my gaze across the conference room.

[Name: Karl von Dietrich]

[Emotion: Rising anger and humiliation, but helplessness suppressed by the Inspectorate's authority.]

[Name: Helga von Strauss]

[Emotion: Contempt for the inspector, anger at her superior being insulted.]

[Name: Seraphina von Reinhardt]

[Status: Heightened vigilance, hostility toward this unjust treatment.]

My gaze finally turned toward the mastermind behind all this—the unfamiliar officer seated arrogantly beside the seat of honor reserved for the regimental commander.

His hair was slick with pomade, gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and his stiff formal uniform was free of even a speck of dust. He practically reeked of a typical rear-echelon administrative officer, worlds apart from the dirt and dust of the battlefield.

'Status Analysis.'

[Name: Albrecht von Zwinger]

[Species: Human]

[Affiliation: Imperial Inspectorate]

[Rank: Lieutenant Colonel]

[Status: Trying to tarnish Dietrich's achievements and pass them off as his own.]

[Emotion: Contempt and disdain for the country bumpkins at the front. Overflowing with arrogance and suspicion.]

Just as I thought. I clicked my tongue inwardly.

"Colonel Dietrich. I respect your long military career. But the Imperial Inspectorate operates according to regulations, not respect."

Although the regimental commander outranked him, the [Division Inspectorate] armband fastened around Zwinger's left arm gave him power that transcended rank.

"And according to regulations… regrettably, your actions appear to constitute a clear violation."

"Watch your tongue, Lieutenant Colonel Zwinger."

The regimental commander, who had been listening in silence, twitched an eyebrow.

"While you were sitting in the capital, sipping warm coffee and pushing a pen, my men were rolling around in the mud of the Ashen Forest. Having inspection authority doesn't give you the right to insult a field commander's honor, does it?"

Dietrich wasn't simply going to take it. He still possessed the spirit that came from his rank and years of service.

"An insult? Nothing could be further from the truth, Colonel. I merely have a few small questions about the 'odd parts' in the report."

"Where exactly are these odd parts in the report?! Every one of them was a victory my men paid for with their blood!"

The regimental commander's face flushed red. But Zwinger twisted up the corner of his mouth as though he found it ridiculous.

"You say they shed blood? How… strange."

He picked up a page of the report with one finger and waved it.

"Only twenty-one killed. Sixty-five seriously wounded. Isn't that an awfully modest figure for capturing a forest swarming with orcs?"

The regiment numbered several thousand soldiers. Realistically, at least several hundred should have been killed or wounded.

"Th-that's…!"

"And take a look at the ammunition expenditure. You drove a large orc force out of the Ashen Forest, their own backyard, yet used only thirty percent of the standard amount? Was it really used properly? You didn't simply record it as fired in the ledgers and sell it on the black market, did you?"

"That's slander, Lieutenant Colonel Zwinger! It was all the result of our 7th Regiment's tactical…!"

"A tactical miracle, I presume. I know."

Zwinger cut him off.

"But, Colonel, 'miracle' is a word found in the Bible. In the Imperial Army's administrative system, more reasonable words exist—embezzlement and false reporting."

That bastard Zwinger wasn't trying to uncover the truth. He merely intended to use the Inspectorate's authority to brand the 7th Regiment as a corrupt outfit and claim the achievement for himself.

From his perspective, our miraculous victory was nothing more than a stepping stone to his own advancement. He probably intended to shoehorn it into a story of 'false reporting and embezzlement' and report it to his superiors.

Why? Because nothing attracts attention like bringing heroes crashing down.

'Good grief. So this is the wretched reason we were given leave?'

Not only the 7th Regiment, but even my own achievements looked ready to be stolen by that bastard.

"Colonel. This is truly unfortunate."

Zwinger clicked his tongue.

"I hear the Ashen Forest campaign was even supposed to earn His Majesty the Emperor's commendation. And your long-cherished promotion to general must have been within reach as well."

The regimental commander's eyelid twitched at those words. Zwinger had struck precisely at his sore spot.

"But regrettably, now that the Inspectorate has received allegations of serious corruption, all award procedures will be frozen."

"…Listen, Lieutenant Colonel. Allegations? Nothing has been proven yet!"

Dietrich protested in a restrained voice.

[Name: Karl von Dietrich]

[Status: Searching for a way to defend himself against an unjust inspection, under extreme stress.]

[Emotion: Fear that missing this opportunity for a commendation could mean the end of his military career.]

I read the regimental commander's status window and clicked my tongue inwardly.

The longer the investigation dragged on, the more likely the regimental commander was to miss his chance for promotion. By the time he was finally cleared of the allegations, the train would already have left the station. At that point, whether the 7th Regiment had actually achieved an overwhelming victory would no longer matter.

"I'll prove it myself from here on out—slowly and meticulously."

"Grrr…. Zwinger!"

The regimental commander, who had been groaning as he stared down at the desk, finally exploded.

"Do you think I don't know what you're after? Do I look like some powerless figurehead with no strings to pull in Central? If that's what you think, you'd better prepare yourself."

But Zwinger remained unmoved.

"Prepare myself? Heh. I'm merely doing my duty as an inspector."

He was utterly composed. It was obvious he was convinced the game had already been set in his favor.

"And there's no need for us to get red in the face and raise our voices at each other, Colonel."

Then it happened.

"The truth lies with people, not documents, after all."

Zwinger gave the report a light slap and closed it. Then he slowly turned his gaze toward our officers standing below the dais in a line like a folding screen.

"Wouldn't one confession from the person involved settle the matter more effectively than a hundred excuses?"

He adjusted his glasses and swept the conference room with his snake-like eyes.

"It seems the subject of that report is here."

His wandering gaze fixed on a single point. Me.

"You are… Lieutenant Max Jaeger?"

His fangs flashed as though he had found a victim easy to tear apart.

"The very platoon commander recorded as having made a 'decisive tactical contribution' to this ridiculous false report?"

Zwinger descended from the dais and began walking slowly. Each time he passed, the officers of the 7th Regiment swallowed dryly and made way for him.

"According to the report, it's quite a spectacle. A mere platoon commander destroyed mortar positions, defeated a shaman's altar with a single platoon, blew up an enemy outpost using a conveniently placed pile of gunpowder, intercepted Kaldor's charge with timely commands, blocked an enemy night raid in full view of everyone, and even devised the decisive operation that turned Orc Warchief Gromnar's trap against him…"

He eventually came right up to me.

"Tell me honestly, Lieutenant. Did you write this report? Or did the colonel make you…"

With a nasty smile on his face, he opened his mouth.

"…fabricate it?"

That bastard was convinced. Any victory he couldn't understand by his own standards had to be a lie.

"If you tell the truth even now, I'll take your circumstances into account. What power does a junior officer have? You only did as you were told, didn't you?"

The air in the conference room froze. The regimental commander's face turned red enough to burst.

Sowing discord.

It was a ploy to drive a wedge between the regimental commander and me, then coax me into becoming an internal whistleblower. I could feel the regimental commander's gaze wavering uneasily.

I thought for a moment.

'Which side would benefit me more?'

In truth, there was no need to deliberate.

If I sold out the regimental commander here, all I'd get would be a token reprieve from punishment, dressed up as leniency. But if I protected him and had my achievements recognized? Then I'd have the title of hero of the Empire—and, riding the regimental commander's connections, a clear road to success.

The risk was real, but the payoff wasn't even in the same league.

More importantly.

'Status Analysis.'

[Name: Albrecht von Zwinger]

[Status: Convinced that his strategy is perfect and that the country-bumpkin officer will tremble in fear and confess.]

[Emotion: Contempt for and superiority over Max Jaeger.]

Tremble in fear?

I swallowed a hollow laugh.

'You picked the wrong target, you desk jockey.'

To be fair, the regimental commander was also a self-interested man eager to use me. But at least he possessed the pride of a commander and the respect one field officer had for another.