I'm Actually Good at Administration, Too?

Praise poured in from all sides. Franz looked up at me with shining eyes, while Walter pounded my shoulder until it went numb. Seraphina and Erika gazed steadily at me.

Just then, the regimental commander approached me.

"Lieutenant Max Jaeger."

"Yes, Colonel."

I gave him a crisp salute. There was something strange in the regimental commander's eyes as he looked down at me. Until now, he had looked at me as though I were merely an excellent chess piece, but….

'Status Analysis.'

[Name: Karl von Dietrich]

[Emotion: Recognizing Max Jaeger as more than a mere military hero—as a 'key benefactor' who could bolster his political position.]

Bingo.

I could almost hear the old fox's mental calculator whirring furiously. So he wasn't just good at fighting—he was skilled at politics, too? This was a goose that laid golden eggs.

"You are… truly remarkable."

The regimental commander gripped my shoulder tightly.

"You displayed almost supernatural courage on the battlefield, then showed eloquence rivaling a diplomat in the conference room. Thanks to you, our regiment's honor has been preserved."

"Thank you. But it's not over yet."

I deliberately changed the mood.

"Lieutenant Colonel Zwinger hasn't backed down. If anything, he's probably nursing a grudge. Starting tomorrow, he'll try to find some way to find fault with us during the document audit."

The regimental commander's face darkened again at my words.

"…Of course. There's no way that viper would simply back down. The supply ledgers, the operation logs… What records would survive a thorough search without turning up some dust?"

Even though my speech had gotten everyone fired up, reality was still cold. Military administration was bound to be full of gaps. Even without embezzlement, the quantities in the ledgers and the actual supplies often failed to match, and rushed operations left behind mountains of missing reports.

Zwinger would exploit those gaps.

*

A short while later.

The regimental commander, Major Helga, Quartermaster Sergeant Hermann, and the other officers involved all gathered to prepare for the inspection.

The atmosphere was that of a funeral. The spirit with which they had shouted at Zwinger moments ago had vanished, and everyone could only sigh heavily as they stared at the piles of documents stacked before them.

"…Colonel, I'll be honest with you. Reconciling all of this in a single day is practically impossible."

Quartermaster Sergeant Hermann reported with a deeply troubled expression.

"The food supplies are fifteen percent short of what's recorded in the ledgers. The ammunition is even worse. The issue ledger says it was distributed, yet the actual combat expenditure reports fail to account for thousands of rounds. And what are we supposed to do about the supplies we captured from the orcs…? The soldiers divided them among themselves without recording them in the ledgers. If Zwinger searches their lockers, they'll be headed straight for the brig."

"You call that a report?!"

The regimental commander growled, pressing a hand to his forehead.

"Did I or did I not tell you to be meticulous with the paperwork?!"

"Y-yes, sir, you did, but… the forward supply depot is such a complete mess…"

Hermann trailed off, watching the regimental commander's mood.

'Status Analysis.'

[Name: Karl von Dietrich]

[Status: Despair. Simulating his future ruin after Zwinger catches him out.]

[Emotion: Desperately wishing that someone—anyone—would pull him out of this cesspit.]

Now was the time.

I slowly raised my hand.

"It's not completely hopeless."

Everyone's eyes fixed on me.

"All right, Lieutenant Jaeger. Let's hear it."

The regimental commander's eyes trembled with the desperate hope of a man clutching at straws. I opened my mouth without hesitation.

"First, we need to reconcile the ammunition expenditure."

The regimental commander nodded at my words.

"Right. The report says we used only thirty percent, but according to the actual issue ledger, forty-five percent was distributed. The whereabouts of the remaining fifteen percent are unknown."

He tapped the ledger with his finger.

"If we can't account for it, it's embezzlement. It must have been omitted somewhere, but… there's no way to find it now…"

I closed my eyes for a moment. There was a fifteen-percent gap. There was only one way to fill it: classify it as 'discarded,' not 'consumed.' Considering the conditions in the Ashen Forest, we had plenty of excuses.

But the problem was justification. To silence a meticulous inspector, we needed to invoke the regulations he worshipped.

But even I didn't know the entire Imperial regulations manual. And time was short. It was practically impossible for the officers gathered here to read through everything and process it overnight.

…But.

I didn't have to do it myself. I happened to have the perfect skill for this.

'Connect.'

Pop-.

[The skill 'War Heroes Gallery (Lv.1)' is activated.]

Time to work, you ghosts.

I took the ledger and propped my chin on one hand, adopting an appropriately serious expression. To anyone watching, I must have looked like an officer deep in thought, but inside my head, a typewriter was clattering at the speed of light.

[I'm filling the fifteen-percent ammunition gap by classifying it as discarded.]

[I plan to attribute it to the disposal of defective ammunition damaged by the Ashen Forest's humidity, along with losses during combat. I need the relevant regulations.]

I entered that and pressed the Register button.

Comments began appearing in rapid succession.

Corsican Artillery Officer: The Field Manual's Chapter 4 supply rules are too weak. That won't be enough.

Top Political Lecturer: Found it. Article 14, Paragraph 3 of the 'Wartime Emergency Materiel Management Regulations.' This is the one.

Founder of Military Science: There's precedent, too. Cite Hindenburg's case during the Third Northern War, and he won't be able to object.

Okay.

It was exactly the clause I wanted.

I immediately deactivated the skill and returned to reality.

"Colonel. This fifteen percent wasn't lost."

"What? Then where did it go?"

"It was discarded."

"Discarded?"

I began explaining with a serious expression.

"The Ashen Forest is a humid region. Old ammunition that had been stored poorly had absorbed moisture and was at high risk of misfiring. Misfired rounds during combat pose a threat to our soldiers' lives. So I ordered them discarded immediately in the field. No—I mean, I did."

"But there isn't a disposal report, is there?"

"It was a wartime emergency. There was no time to write a report in the middle of combat."

I recited the clause I had found with the skill.

"Article 14, Paragraph 3 of the 'Wartime Emergency Materiel Management Regulations.' 'A field commander has the authority to take action first and report afterward regarding defective materiel that could pose a fatal threat to an operation.' If we write a post-action report based on this clause, there won't be a problem."

"……!"

The regimental commander's eyes widened. He hurriedly flipped through the regulations manual, found the clause, and clicked his tongue in amazement.

"…It is. It really is. I can't believe I overlooked this. Article 14, Paragraph 3. Good heavens, Lieutenant Jaeger. You even had this obscure clause memorized?"

"I just found the logistics classes memorable back at the academy."

"Impressive. Most officers focus exclusively on tactical theory and neglect administrative regulations like these…."

The regimental commander's gaze toward me changed once again. He was no longer looking at me as an officer who merely excelled in the field, but as an elite who had mastered administration as well.

'Status Analysis.'

[Name: Karl von Dietrich]

[Status: Admiration. Repeatedly reassessing Max Jaeger's abilities.]

But this was only the beginning.

"Then what about this? These are the food-supply records. The ration expenses claimed are far too high for the number of troops. Anyone looking at this would think we ate steak for every meal."

Quartermaster Sergeant Hermann scratched his head and held out another document.

"Let me see."

I skimmed through the ledger. The food expenses were certainly quite high compared to the number of troops.

'They ate a lot? Then all we have to say is that they moved a lot.'

I drew up the big picture in my mind. Combat stress, the need for high-calorie meals, and the disposal of enemy supplies. We could tie those three things together.

The problem was the regulations again. Even I didn't know every Imperial Army regulation, but….

With a cheat skill, that was a different story.

'Connect.'

[I need the relevant regulations regarding excessive ration expenses.]

I entered that and pressed Register.

Comments

Corsican Artillery Officer: An army moves on a full stomach. The current situation looks ideal for claiming it under 'high-calorie specialty meals for high-intensity operations.'

Top Political Lecturer: Add the issue of contamination among the captured supplies. Say it was a measure taken to avoid violating Hygiene Regulation 7, and it'll look perfect.

I nodded and gave Hermann my answer.

"Say that we issued special meals to boost the morale of the soldiers before a fierce battle. And the food captured from the orc positions was all incinerated over concerns that it might be poisoned, so we issued additional army provisions instead. It was a measure to prevent a violation of Hygiene Regulation 7."

"……! I-I'll write the report immediately!"

Hermann exclaimed in admiration as he began scribbling with his pen.

Time passed quickly. The deeper into the night it got, the more complicated the problems became, but the gallery veterans' collective intelligence had no limits.

"What about the excessive clothing expense claims?"

"The orcs' acidic blood corroded the uniforms. Emphasize the need for early replacement."

"What about the shortage of medical supplies?"

"Say they were allocated to preventive disease-control operations. Epidemic prevention is sacred ground even the Inspectorate won't dare touch."

"This operation map doesn't match the actual route of advance. Lieutenant Colonel Zwinger will latch onto that as a violation of the preplanned operation."

"It was a judgment within the field commander's discretionary authority. Field Manual Article 2, Paragraph 5 explicitly allows minor deviations caused by unforeseen changes in combat conditions."

I glanced at the documents, stared into space for a moment while browsing the gallery, and produced a perfect answer in under a minute.

As the process repeated, the officers gathered in the conference room gradually lost their ability to speak. At first they had looked at me with admiration, but now they gazed at me with something beyond astonishment—a kind of awe.

'Status Analysis.'