One-Eyed Monster

At this moment, Louvkat was beginning to feel agitated, a feeling that threatened to ruin his usually well-controlled emotions.

Over the years, he had grown frustrated, holding the position of Chief Administrator for more than a decade without any change. Normally, with his authority over the city’s financial affairs and occasional responsibility for personnel allocation, an audience with His Majesty the King should have been a matter of course. But Rostov didn’t manage the Imperial Capital conventionally; he always seemed to revel in stirring up what appeared to be utterly chaotic affairs. All these chaotic affairs resulted in one thing—burning through money.

As the financial controller of the Imperial Capital, Louvkat felt a pang every time he witnessed the massive outflow of gold bars. These gold bars represented the coins he had painstakingly extracted from tightfisted and cunning merchants over many years. Getting those merchants to willingly part with their money was as challenging as chiseling through the thickest ice during the Deep Winter Season.

Yet, Rostov seemed oblivious to these difficulties. With a wave of his hand, he established the Yonder Travel Academy, and just like that, gleaming gold bars flew away. That money had originally been intended for purchasing rare and exotic treasures to present to His Majesty.

Louvkat believed that the hallmark of perfect governance was a Government Administrative Office that maintained the city’s prosperity steadily, presented His Majesty with substantial tax revenues at year’s end, and perhaps offered some rare treasures as well.

But all his plans had been disrupted by Rostov. In recent years, after Luona had managed to secure normal food reserves, its expenditures consistently exceeded its income. All the coins in the treasury had been squandered by Rostov.

The Yonder Travel Academy, the steam car, the Thunder Army—each project burned through stacks of gold bars. For many years now, Luona hadn’t offered any rare treasures to the Kayne Empire, and at times, even the taxes remitted were pitifully scant.

What was more baffling was that, despite Rostov’s spendthrift nature, there were still people supporting him! The Council Hall of the City Administrative Office approved most of his projects, a fact that had perplexed the Chief Administrator for a long time.

The massive outflow of gold bars caused Louvkat great distress. He vented his hidden emotions by constantly replacing the Grand Duke of Finance, and in the process of these personnel changes, he gradually formed his own faction.

The Council Hall’s continued approval of Rostov’s projects was partly due to Rostov’s extensive network. At that time, the Scholar Commons, the Chamber of Commerce, and even the Grand Duke of Finance were all fawning over Rostov.

Later, when these people’s interests were gradually usurped by Rostov’s newfangled ventures, they naturally sided against his new projects. Louvkat recalled the previous occasions when he had stood alone in opposition; the scene could only be described as unbearably wretched.

Now that he had allies in the Council Hall, Louvkat felt a surge of secret delight. However, he later discovered that Rostov’s supporters had multiplied. The commoners who couldn’t enter the Council Hall had become Rostov’s most loyal adherents. These commoners, in both number and impact, far outweighed the old fossils in the Council Hall.