The 7th Regiment Is the Finest Unit in the Empire

'Status Analysis.'

[Name: Karl von Dietrich]

[Status: Relief at narrowly escaping death, his assessment of Max Jaeger rising through the roof]

[Name: Helga von Strauss]

[Status: Cognitive dissonance with the common sense she had always known]

[Emotion: A perfectionist's sense of defeat, and deep respect for and curiosity about Max Jaeger]

[Name: Hermann]

[Emotion: Awe of Max Jaeger]

'Perfect.'

I rejoiced inwardly. The regimental commander recognized me as an indispensable treasure, while the exacting adjutant had come to hold me in the highest regard. The quartermaster was now as good as my loyal dog.

My standing within the regiment had risen by one level—no, two.

"…It's finished."

I said as I closed the last folder. A brief silence descended over the conference room. Outside the window, dawn was already breaking in shades of blue.

"Is this… really all done?"

The regimental commander picked up the stack of documents with trembling hands. The ledgers that had been full of holes just a few hours ago had now been transformed into the Empire's most exemplary records.

"Perfect, Colonel."

Major Helga added in a much gentler voice than usual.

"After reviewing everything, I can find nothing for even a military legal officer to criticize. Every expense and use of supplies is supported by clear regulations and precedents."

"Ha, hahaha…!"

A hearty laugh burst from the regimental commander's mouth. He sprang to his feet, strode over to me, and grabbed both my hands.

"Max! You saved me! No—you saved our 7th Regiment!"

The corners of his eyes were moist with emotion.

"In my thirty years of military service, I've never seen an officer as versatile as you. You're a hero on the battlefield, but you're a hero behind a desk as well!"

"You're too kind. I merely wanted to protect your honor, Colonel."

I lowered my head just enough and offered him some lip service.

"Sergeant Hermann!"

"Yes, sir! Colonel!"

"Take these documents and organize them after checking them against the originals immediately! If even a single jot is wrong, I'll kill you!"

"Don't worry, sir! I'll handle it perfectly, even if I have to stake my life on it!"

Hermann hugged the pile of documents like a treasure and began pounding away at the typewriter with fierce determination.

*

Nine in the morning.

At the appointed time, the conference room door burst open. Lieutenant Colonel Zwinger entered, followed by a couple of inspectors wearing slick, predatory expressions.

"Good morning, Colonel. Did you sleep well last night?"

Zwinger sat down with an air of confidence. Seeing our exhausted eyes, he seemed convinced that victory was his.

"Well then, shall we begin? Let's start with the ammunition expenditure ledger and the ration issue records…."

"Here they are."

At the regimental commander's nod, Sergeant Hermann dropped a thick folder onto the table in front of Zwinger with a heavy thud.

"Hmm, let's see how much you've managed to get right…."

Zwinger let out a sneer and opened the documents. His fingers flipped rapidly through the pages. At first, he turned them with an air of amusement, but his movements gradually began to slow.

Rustle. Rustle.

A wrinkle formed between his brows.

"…What's this? Disposal? Act first, report afterward?"

"Article 14, Paragraph 3 of the Wartime Emergency Materiel Management Regulations."

The regimental commander said it while leisurely lifting his teacup.

"It was my oversight for failing to account for the humidity at the front. Fortunately, a capable platoon commander took the appropriate action in the field."

"Ha! That's an absurd excuse. What about the food? This enormous surplus…"

"Article 7 of the Hygiene Regulations. Measures to prevent contamination of enemy materiel were applied."

This time, Major Helga cut in with a cold voice.

"We couldn't rule out the possibility that poison had been mixed into the orc rations, so we incinerated the entire lot. Instead, we issued special meals to boost the soldiers' morale and ensure they received enough calories. Here is the data compared with the nutritional intake standards."

Zwinger's eyes began to waver. He desperately flipped through the next page, then the one after that.

Rustle. Rustle.

The sound of turning pages seemed unusually loud.

"Th-this…"

Zwinger's hands trembled. He took off his glasses, wiped them, and put them on again. But the contents of the documents remained unchanged.

Uniform allowances, medical supplies, operational maps…. The gaps he had intended to point out had all been filled with flawless regulations and precedents.

"…Is there anything else you'd like to see, Lieutenant Colonel Zwinger?"

Zwinger couldn't say a word. His face repeatedly flushed red, then turned pale.

'Status Analysis.'

[Name: Albrecht von Zwinger]

[Status: Complete logical defeat. Mistakenly believes he has fallen into a trap.]

[Emotion: Disbelief.]

"…It's too perfect."

He muttered in a hoarse voice.

"It's so perfect that it's suspicious. Do field-unit documents really line up without a single error? This is… artificial. Someone deliberately stitched everything together…."

"Lieutenant Colonel."

I cut him off sharply.

"Are you saying our regiment is suspicious because we followed the regulations too well?"

"What…?"

"If the paperwork is a mess, it's embezzlement, and if the paperwork is perfect, it's fabrication? Then what tune are we supposed to dance to?"

I stepped closer and threw the same logic he had used against me yesterday right back at him.

"You said it yourself, Lieutenant Colonel. Numbers don't lie. We proved everything with numbers. But now you're trying to deny it all based on your own intuition?"

"Gh, ugh…!"

Zwinger couldn't refute me. The words he had spoken had returned as shackles.

The atmosphere in the conference room changed. Triumphant smiles spread across the faces of the 7th Regiment's officers.

"Then is it my turn now?"

The regimental commander set down his teacup. A sharp clink rang out.

"You said that if even a single blemish turned up, I should take off my uniform."

The regimental commander rose from his seat and slowly walked behind Zwinger.

"But instead of a blemish, we've found nothing but exemplary conduct worthy of a commendation. So, what are you going to do now? Shall I formally bring you before a military court for falsely accusing an innocent field commander of embezzlement and intimidating his subordinates into giving false testimony?"

"C-Colonel… that's a misunderstanding… I merely received a report and was conducting a verification procedure…."

Zwinger's spirit was completely broken. He was practically groveling now.

"A report? I'm curious who submitted it. …Of course, I suppose I could find out by filing a request for disclosure with the Central Inspectorate."

"N-no! That's not what I meant! I mean…!"

Zwinger's face turned white. If an inspector were charged with making a false accusation, his career would be over.

The regimental commander gave a small laugh and whispered into his ear.

"All right. I'll let it go this once."

"…What?"

"But on one condition. I'm talking about the report you're going to submit to Central."

The regimental commander indicated the perfectly organized stack of documents with his chin.

"Write it exactly like this, without changing a single word: The 7th Regiment is the most exemplary, incorruptible, and valiant unit in His Majesty the Emperor's army. And, of course, cooperate so that His Majesty's scheduled commendation and reward procedures are completed as quickly as possible."

It was a deal that opened a way out while demanding unmistakable submission. It was exactly the sort of move one would expect from an old fox.

Zwinger had no choice. He could either be ruined here or swallow his pride and survive.

"…Understood."

Zwinger lowered his head, grinding his teeth in humiliation.

"As you say, Colonel… I'll take care of it."

"Good. You may leave now. My adjutant is terrible at making tea, so I'm afraid I can't offer you any further hospitality."

It was an unmistakable order to leave.

Zwinger fled the conference room as though running for his life, without even having the presence of mind to collect the stack of documents. His subordinates hurriedly tucked their tails and followed him out.

Bang.

*

I headed toward the 3rd Platoon's barracks with a light step. As soon as I saw the building in the distance, I sensed a strange silence hanging over it. It was different from the usual commotion.

Creak.

The moment I opened the barracks door and entered, dozens of pairs of eyes fixed on me.

"L-Lieutenant!"

Gunter was the first to react. The big man sprang to his feet and rushed toward me.

"You're back! So… how did it go?"

Over Gunter's broad, fierce-looking shoulder stood Kurt, Klaus, and even Hannah. Every member of the 3rd Platoon held their breath and stared at my lips.

"Pack your things."

"Yes…? You mean our luggage?"

Gunter asked back with a blank expression.

"Are we going to the brig?"

"No, this time it definitely means the pioneer battalion…."

Despair spread through the 3rd Platoon.

"Don't bring those drab uniforms. Pack your finest dress uniforms. And polish your boots until you can see your face in them."

"…Huh?"

"Did I hear that wrong?"

This time, murmurs spread through the barracks.

"I'm saying don't look like a bunch of country bumpkins. You're going to an audience with His Majesty the Emperor. Do you think you can show up looking filthy?"

"……!!"

For a moment, silence flowed through the barracks. The soldiers wore expressions suggesting they couldn't understand what they had just heard.

"H-His Majesty the Emperor…?"

"That's right."

I grinned and looked around at them. The 7th Regiment's return to the capital was already a certainty.

"The inspection? That prissy inspector ran away with his tail between his legs. Right in front of me—and in front of your achievements."

I said with a touch of exaggeration.

"No matter how hard he worked his pen trying to find fault with us, he couldn't erase the achievements we had truly earned. If anything, he even gave us an official certification declaring the 7th Regiment the Empire's most aboveboard and valiant unit."

"Waaahhh!!"

A cheer erupted so loudly that it seemed ready to tear the barracks apart.

"Is that really true? We won?"

"Just as expected of you, Lieutenant! You even wiped the floor with the inspector!"

"Hurray! Long live the 7th Regiment! Long live our platoon commander!"

"Finally… we're finally getting out of this wretched mud pit!"

The soldiers embraced one another, looking ready to dance for joy.

As the soldiers' cheers began to die down, someone lightly tugged at my sleeve.

When I turned around, it was Hannah. Her hazel eyes were shining more brightly than usual.

"Lieutenant."

She glanced around and lowered her voice.

"As expected, you're amazing."

[Status: Pride in and faith in the lieutenant.]

[Emotion: Concern for the lieutenant transformed into deep trust and joy.]

I grinned and lightly patted her shoulder. Her status-analysis window was pure worship. She was a puppy in all but the tail.

This was why I couldn't help but dote on her. After glancing around, I stealthily brushed a hand down her waist where no one could see.

"Of course. There's no way that idiot inspector could get the better of me."

"Yes… I knew you would manage it, Lieutenant. And, um…."

She pressed herself against my touch and whispered into my ear in a husky voice.

"To commemorate driving that idiot inspector away…"

Hannah's gaze became unmistakably suggestive. She didn't finish her sentence. But I knew what she wanted without even using [Status Analysis].

I lightly nipped her earlobe, then let go.

"Get ready and come over. I'll leave the door open."

"Yes…♡ I'll wash up and come right over."