SOLIRF~37

Chapter 37

I Want to Be an Extra in This Drama (1)

Leaving the dazed Minister of Finance behind, I strolled back to the Marquis’s residence with leisurely calm.

They’re all wealthy people, so it’ll probably stay a rumor—but still, it must sting.

I didn’t know if the Minister could keep his mouth shut or not, but once something like that leaks out, someone like me would eventually witness it and pass it along.

Whenever it happens, it won’t stay buried for long.

Some might say I’d gone too far, but it wasn’t me who crossed the line first.

For the record, I’m from a country without nobility—groveling and bowing from the roots up just isn’t in my nature.

Touch me, and I’ll bite.

“Nothing unusual, I hope?”

The Marquis Aurelius asked while signing a document.

“No, sir. The Minister of Finance said to thank you—he received it well.”

“Good. I’ve placed the new aide candidates’ profiles on my desk. Look them over and narrow them down as you see fit.”

“…Me?”

My gaze landed on the stack of résumés piled high in one corner of his desk. Picking one up, I saw the usual—graduates from prestigious academies, impressive credentials, glowing recommendations.

“I’m afraid I’m not qualified to choose someone like that.”

Sure, I’d graduated from a decent university back home, but here I hadn’t even attended an academy. Who would trust an aide chosen by someone like me? It could easily spark backlash.

But the Marquis saw it differently.

“I’ll make the final decision myself, but I haven’t time to interview each one. And you’re the one who ferreted out that rat hiding in our household, weren’t you? I daresay you’ve got better instincts than I do.”

There was a hint of irony in his tone.

After a moment of thought, I decided to suggest someone who might actually be perfect for the task.

“Marquis, what if Lady Chiara helped with this as well?”

“Chiara?”

His gentlemanly mustache twitched in surprise. His face was full of questions.

“Who do you think chose me, my lord?”

When I smiled, his eyes went wide—as if he’d just been handed an answer he never expected.

Then—

“Ha ha ha ha ha!”

He burst into hearty laughter, the kind that filled the study and warmed the air.

“When I first agreed to hire you, I thought—well, no matter how skilled you were in trade, you lacked the refinement and training of a proper aide. Your background, your… qualifications, all of it.”

Ouch. Right in the bones.

“But Chiara insisted so strongly that I let her have her way. I figured, if it didn’t work out, I could always dismiss you. Turns out, I was wrong. My daughter’s judgment is sharper than mine!”

He didn’t look the least bit offended by admitting it—if anything, he seemed proud.

“Ever since the last party, I’ve been realizing I may have underestimated her. Good, I’ll speak to her myself. I’m counting on you both.”

“Thank you, sir.”

If my immediate superior was climbing higher, that could only mean good things for me too.

Lady Chiara accepted the Marquis’s suggestion with bright enthusiasm.

Then she eagerly began going through each résumé, weeding out unsuitable candidates without hesitation.

Since there were no photographs in this world, everything had to be judged purely through text—but she preferred to meet people directly.

“When you came in for your interview, I liked you right away. Talking to you confirmed it. I believe personality shows in everything—your looks, your posture, your tone, your words. I don’t need flatterers.”

Lady Chiara was far more discerning than I’d imagined.

Sharp, observant, and sensitive to detail. Butler Fenel had once whispered that she’d learned to read people after being burned one too many times by noble ladies in high society.

Come to think of it, she hadn’t liked that scoundrel Gi-Chu much even before the incident, either.

It seemed this job would go smoothly enough with her handling it.

As I recalled her staying up late with fiery determination, I turned my attention to my VIP client—the Bull Captain.

“So, what made you want to quit today, Mr. Bull?”

Honestly, just showing up to work could make anyone want to quit, but as a consultant, I couldn’t very well say that out loud.

“This is strange… something’s really strange…”

He looked completely different from usual.

Normally, he’d be breathing fire and cursing his incompetent superiors, but today he seemed… confused. Troubled.

“Did your boss hurt your feelings again by being useless?”

He shook his head.

“It’s the opposite, actually…”

“…What?”

“That’s what’s weird. Lately, he’s been… gentler, I guess? He still points out mistakes, but not like before. No more ‘you’re incompetent,’ or ‘what were you thinking,’ or ‘how did you even graduate the academy.’ Nothing like that.”

“…!”

Wait—he’s actually following my advice?

“Master Quokka, what’s going on? When people suddenly change like that, doesn’t that mean something bad happened? He’s not dying or anything, right?”

The Bull Captain’s plush cow mask was practically bouncing with anxiety.

“I… don’t think so.”

“Right? It’s probably just a temporary mood swing, right? Honestly, it’s so weird not hearing him yell—it’s almost… unsettling. I’m even more nervous now.”

“Maybe the Duke has realized his own faults and is trying to improve.”

The Bull Captain let out a dry laugh.

“Him? The man who was born heir to a Grand Duchy, graduated top of the academy, earned a ducal title on the battlefield, and—since there’s no war these days—got bored and joined the Ministry of Justice, where he became the youngest-ever Chief Justice? That Vespera Ariadne Fortuna?”

…Okay, that was quite the ultra-elite résumé.

“How could someone like him possibly understand the struggles of us small nobles?”

Years of resentment had hardened into walls around his heart. Those wouldn’t come down overnight.

Still, if he’s actually trying, I want to help him.

“Well, at least the situation’s better than before, right?”

“…I guess that’s true.”

“Then don’t see it negatively. Watch first, see if this is just a phase—or if it’s real change. You’ve got nothing to lose.”

I couldn’t help wondering whether the Bull Captain and the little lamb could actually learn to coexist.

Still… for him to be that startled and agitated—it must mean the Duke’s really trying.

Damn it.

Vespera groaned, head planted against his desk in his private office.

Anyone passing by would’ve blinked and looked again—such a sight was practically unheard of.

“Haa…”

He didn’t even have the energy to maintain appearances.

“This isn’t easy.”

When the adorable, mask-wearing “Master Quokka” had first given him advice, he hadn’t truly understood.

How could he empathize when he’d never lived as an ordinary man?

But he did agree that not everyone in the world thought like him—so he’d resolved to stop what the consultant had called fact violence. A strange phrase, but it rolled surprisingly well off the tongue.

He had thought it would be simple enough.

“How can you fail such a basic calculation—no, wait.”

“Pardon?”

“Redo the calculation and bring it back.”

But even on the first day, he hit a wall.

“Explain the penal code concerning adultery requested by the Finance Ministry.”

“Um… Section 1, when… there’s no consent… and… um… the spouse meets someone… uh…”

“How is it that a Ministry of Justice employee can’t recite a single statute by heart? Such incomp—”

“Sir?”

“…Never mind. Review the code and submit a proper summary.”

By then, he felt like he might choke from suppressing so many biting remarks.

He hadn’t realized how easily irritation flowed through him—how much he’d relied on venting it.

Holding it in is… suffocating.

His chest felt tight, as if he were drowning on dry land.

When would this torment end?

Still, there was one silver lining—the once-gloomy, suffocating atmosphere of the Ministry had begun to lighten.

That alone kept him going.

“Chief Justice, His Highness the Crown Prince has summoned you.”

A royal attendant handed him a sealed letter.

Vespera opened it, his expression stiffening.

The Crown Prince had never summoned him for good news.

The employees around him held their breath, waiting.

Crrk.

Though his face remained expressionless, the letter crumpled in his hand.

One brave subordinate—emboldened by the slightly improved mood in the office—finally spoke.

“Chief Justice, may I ask what it’s about?”

Vespera replied in a flat tone.

“His Highness, Crown Prince Lawrence, apparently forced the Finance Ministry to divert funds from other departments for his private trading venture. Unfortunately, the venture failed. He now demands that we draft a legal justification for the misappropriation.”

“……!”

Gasps rippled through the room.

Vespera stood up.

He’d reached his limit.

“I’m going out for some air.”

The staff stared after him in disbelief.

The man who never left his office during work hours—except for official duties—was taking a break.

But Vespera paid no attention to their astonished faces as he walked out of the Ministry, thinking grimly—

So this is what they call the urge to quit.

And in his mind’s eye, one image burned bright—

That ridiculous, fluffy-masked Quokka.