I am But a Commoner

1st Verse

I, Erwin Barmut, am a commoner.

“…Therefore, we have identified and secured the distribution routes for the new drug ‘Fairytale’ that is plaguing the empire. With your approval, Minister, we plan to raid the transaction site tonight.”

I listened to the subordinate’s report, idly turning a ring on my finger.

I always think the same thing, but I never understand why they come to me for every little thing after already having reached their own conclusions.

Of course, I know they work hard. Though merely for show, the Minister of the Acherus Empire’s Intelligence Agency is, indeed, me.

In any organization, procedure is crucial. Even if it’s purely ceremonial, one can’t simply skip it.

Even so, all I can do is quietly nod.

“Understood. We will proceed with the operation, then.”

With those final words of the curt report, the stifling meeting came to an end.

I did absolutely nothing, yet feel exhausted enough to collapse.

Or rather, is it because I did nothing?

Rising from my seat, I all but fled the conference room.

I wanted to escape this place as quickly as possible. If I didn’t return to my office and be alone, even for a moment, I felt as though I’d start having trouble breathing.

But alas, I am the Minister, and so I cannot disgrace myself by running down the hallway, nor can I walk alone.

“Minister, I know it’s an unreasonable request, but it would be helpful if you could at least say *something* to the agents from time to time.”

Trailing a few steps behind me, openly mocking my incompetence, was none other than my secretary, Celine.

A woman of common birth, she demonstrated remarkable results and abilities, seizing the position of Minister’s secretary as soon as she came of age. A truly remarkable woman.

Unlike me.

More than that, if you know it’s unreasonable, don’t request it.

“Forgive me. I overstepped.”

Unable to think of anything to say, I remained silent. Celine, showing not a hint of emotion, offered her apology. We returned to my office, where I promptly slumped back into my chair and sighed.

I’m worn out.

I don’t want to do anything else today. I think I will just wait until it’s time to go home.

“Is something amiss?”

Hearing Celine’s question – one that implied “Why are you pretending to be tired when you haven’t done a thing?” – I could think of no suitable reply, so I simply turned the ring on my finger and decided to change the subject by asking a question of my own.

“What’s on the agenda?”

“Nothing. Chancellor Ericson requested an audience, but I have declined.”

I was unaware that the Chancellor had requested a meeting, but I didn’t find it particularly odd.

Celine did most of the actual work anyway.

All I did was stamp reports that had already been vetted, or nod along during meetings, like just now.

Speaking of which, I could actually refuse a request from the Imperial Chancellor now?

That’s something. Just make you the Minister.

“…Minister?”

Lost in a reverie of recommending her as the actual Minister, Celine tilted her head and asked, with an air of what-are-you-doing.

Ah, how tactless of me. She’d been waiting for me to say that.

“Understood. I’ll be on my way out, then.”

“Yes.”

No sooner had I given her permission to leave than Celine turned on her heel and vanished like the wind.

The moment the door closed behind her, a sigh escaped my lips.

Ten years. Ten years had already passed since I took on the mantle of Minister.

In all that time, I hadn’t grown one bit.

I no longer felt I could even call myself mediocre. Even an average person would have become at least somewhat competent after this long.

“I want to quit…”

I muttered it to myself, but if I could quit whenever I pleased, I would have resigned the moment I was appointed.

That was the root of the problem from the beginning.

Why was I, who possessed no particular talents, sitting in the grand position of Imperial Intelligence Minister?

The reason, undeservedly, was because I was the eldest son of the Duke of Barmut.

In a word, a parachute hire.

When I was barely an adult, I had no aspirations and no abilities, spending my days lounging at home. My father, unable to bear the sight, had forced me into this position, saying, ‘If you have nothing else to do, you might as well be a Minister.’

Even for my father, I thought that was an abuse of power.

In any case, there was the family’s reputation to consider, and frankly speaking, I had no other way to make a living. So I remained in my position, maintaining a stance of self-preservation, neither one thing nor the other, until a decade had slipped by.

To retire now, I’d need some sort of decisive trigger.

“Haa.”

I want to die.

—

Within the Akerus Empire’s Intelligence Agency, another secret organization existed.

Its name was ‘Owl.’

The Intelligence Agency, as its name suggested, was primarily focused on intelligence gathering, but Owl was different.

Oowl, a group that could truly be called under the direct command of the Minister, had murder as its primary task.

Their true identities were assassins secretly fostered or scouted by the Imperial government.

“If the Minister approves, I propose we raid the transaction site tonight.”

A raid on the transaction site. That meant the wholesale slaughter of everyone present.

If a simple arrest was enough, there would be no need for Oowl to move. The Knights could handle it.

But this case concerned something that needed to become ‘something that never was’. That was why Oowl was being deployed.

“……”

Yet, strangely, after hearing the full report, the Minister displayed no reaction.

He simply remained still, as if lost in thought, twirling a ring on his right thumb.

The large, green gemstone adorning the ring emitted a captivating light.

It was then that John Burghardt, leader of Oowl, realized he had made a mistake.

‘What is it? What did I leave out?’

For the past ten years, the Minister had never directly explained anything to his subordinates.

His working style was simple. He would strip away all unnecessary elements from a task, reduce the choices to a single option, and present it to his subordinates.

All they had to do was choose that option.

It was a kindness bordering on spoon-feeding, but this method came with a significant problem.

They were not the Minister.

More precisely, they were not Erwin Warmuth.

Everyone in the room felt each second stretch into an eternity.

The unbearable tension caused cold sweat to stream down their spines.

It was commonly known that the Imperial Intelligence Minister did not tolerate incompetence, but Oowl knew that was a somewhat inaccurate description.

The Minister did not just not tolerate incompetence.

The Minister simply had no interest in the incompetent.

‘Think. Please, figure out what the Minister’s true intentions are!’

Assassins hardened by countless battles trembled like children about to be scolded by their parents.

Veteran powerhouses, whose names alone could make their targets write their last wills, were frozen like mice before a cat, barely managing to breathe.

Although he himself was terrified, as the leader, John steeled himself to ask the Minister his intentions, ready to take responsibility—

—when the Minister nodded.

“Understood. Then we will proceed with the operation.”

With John’s words, the meeting, which had felt like walking on thin ice, came to an end as the Minister rose.

The moment Minister Lee departed with Celine, the Owl’s members collectively exhaled, a great sigh escaping their lungs.

“Hah, I say this every time, but these meetings are terrible for my heart.”

Kristina, the sole woman among the Owls, took repeated deep breaths, attempting to calm her still-racing pulse.

“I thought I was going to die…”

Waldemar Bazett, boasting a physique twice the size of most, withdrew his cherished handkerchief to dab at his brow.

“Still, the fact he nodded means we more or less passed, right?”

Alexander Lanzingk, a slenderly handsome man, deliberately offered a positive spin, striving to lighten the atmosphere.

“But what did we miss? Was there something we overlooked in the materials the Minister provided?”

Sergei Azarov, a pretty boy so androgynous he could be mistaken for a girl, once again shuffled through the documents arrayed before him.

John, witnessing each member’s individual reaction, shook his head.

“We didn’t miss anything. That’s the problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it. What was the definitive reason we were brought in on this?”

At John’s question, Alexander scratched his cheek and replied, “Because government officials were mixed up in the heart of the network distributing Fairytale, wasn’t it?”

If it became known that even a small number of government officials were involved in distributing a drug that caused terrible pain and severe addiction, the prestige of the Empire’s government would be tarnished.

Therefore, they intended to erase it entirely by eliminating everyone involved, and that’s why the Owl was being mobilized.

Facing his colleagues, who regarded him with eyes questioning why he was suddenly revisiting the matter, John presented the documents detailing the implicated government officials.

“Their affiliation?”

“It’s written right here. The Imperial Administration… Oh, damn!”

Indeed. The head of the Imperial Administration was Daniel Erickson.

The leader of the anti-aristocratic faction.

“They weren’t distributing the drug for monetary gain. The anti-aristocratic faction’s goal is the collapse of the aristocratic class. That’s why they targeted the upper echelons.”

If many nobles became addicted to the drug and were reduced to a state of ruin, problems would inevitably arise.

Seizing that opportunity, the anti-aristocratic faction would promote the uselessness of the aristocracy and demand the abolition of the aristocratic class.

“So, the Minister’s objective is…”

“To acquire evidence that can be used to pressure Erickson should the need arise. Erickson isn’t a fool, so he wouldn’t have left any evidence directly connecting him, but even if we bring back only vague circumstantial evidence, the Minister could easily manipulate him.”

Finishing his explanation, John reproached himself, and the other members shared the sentiment.

The answer was plainly visible. Obvious enough for anyone to see.

Nevertheless, they had become so focused on the information provided by the Minister that they missed the essence of the matter.

“The Minister told us to broaden our horizons. Meaning, don’t just focus on the options he provides, but never stop thinking for ourselves.”

“I get that, but even so, shouldn’t a superior point out something a subordinate missed?”

John shook his head at Sergei’s grumbling.

“He would have, if necessary. The Minister isn’t that heartless. But someone like him would have predicted even this conversation we’re having. That’s why he nodded.”

“…True, that does sound like something the Minister would do.”

Relieved they’d figured it out, albeit belatedly, the Owl team rose from their seats in unison.

The introspection was over.

Now was the time for action.

“No mistakes. We’ve already disappointed the Minister once, so this time, we’ll do it right.”

From the shadows, the Owls leap toward the sky.

To begin the hunt for their master.

They took flight.