Chapter 126 Salary Negotiations
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The word on the street in Marunouchi¹ is that I’ve suddenly started building high-level connections with multiple Zaibatsu² conglomerates. Uribayashi and Biwa were the ones who brought it up, but I didn’t pay it much mind. If there’s one thing a string of miserable experiences teaches you, it’s how to stop obsessing over things that are just going to change anyway.
Besides, I had a much more pressing urge: I wanted to see my Imperial Guard.
It has been nearly a month since we parted ways. The foreign culture of my travels has started to seep into me, yet it refuses to settle – a discordant note in my soul, a lingering loneliness that crashes over me like a wave. I was in the peak of homesickness.
I decided then and there – no meetings today. I’d just stay in bed and go see them.
* * *
I materialized in the familiar, sterile white hallways of the Kujukuri base. Ahead of me, two women cut through the crowd with practiced authority. They both wore navy jinbei³ with their white uniforms draped over their shoulders like capes.
It was Maggot and Sow.
…Yeah, okay. Those are some heavy names. I knew that going in, but…
Even if I tell myself it’s the “proper distance” to keep from my own subordinates, I don’t think I can bring myself to use those names without an honorific. I’ll just give up on that idea right now.
Feeling a bit mischievous, I wanted to see how they acted when I wasn’t around, so I trailed them in Stealth Mode. In this state, I’m a ghost; my presence is completely erased.
”It seems the Young Master is enjoying his leave to the fullest,” Maggot-san remarked. She walked with her usual expressionless face, her ample chest swaying gracefully with every step.
I felt a sudden, fleeting urge to drop stealth and reach out, but I held myself back. Patience.
”I see,” Sow-san replied. She was much more aerodynamically built than her companion. “The snow has melted, but the chill remains. I was worried he might catch a cold. That is a relief.”
Sow-san had a permanent furrow between her brows that suggested anything but “relief,” but she wasn’t actually angry. This was just her default setting.
It was lucky timing that they were talking about me – or rather, they spend most of their day talking about me. To them, “me” is just another word for “work.”
”I wonder if he’s finding life over there too restrictive?” Sow-san asked.
”Well,” Maggot-san replied, “he used to fret day and night about whether someone had died in battle or been injured, but he’s been much quieter about that lately.”
”Being busy keeps the mind from wandering, I suppose. No news is good news, then?” Sow-san muttered.
”Perhaps. They do say the most troublesome children are the easiest to love…” Maggot-san said quietly.
Sow-san shot her a look of pure disgust at that.
Women’s chatter is always the same, whether in this life or my last: it’s either about the opposite s*x or complaining about life.
”Speaking of news,” Maggot-san continued, “the other day, he mentioned he wanted an update on the Imperial Guard’s current status.”
”That’s the one,” Sow-san warned, her tone sharpening. “Don’t let the others hear about that. Lately, everyone’s been far too flighty. I don’t care if the Young Master showed mercy to women in his previous life – getting infatuated is strictly out of the question.”
”Isn’t that just a part of his nature, regardless of his past life?” Maggot-san asked. “Vocal Slut and the others have been trying to frame the topic as a way to keep him from feeling burdened.”
”That girl just doesn’t think, period,” Sow-san snapped.
There was no arguing with her. I suspect Vocal Slut-san just views my modern ethics and the whole reincarnation thing as a weird “foreign culture” from some distant land. Honestly, it makes her a lot easier to talk to.
”In hindsight,” Sow-san sighed, “I can’t help but feel this trip to the Capital was a blessing from above – a chance for us to put some distance between ourselves and the Young Master and reflect.”
”I believe you are exactly right,” Maggot-san agreed.
”Right? I’m not worried about you, but the Young Master… he has a way of unintentionally tempting women… No, that’s a worldly thought. I must strike it from my mind.”
”Is that how you really feel, Sow?” Maggot-san teased.
”Don’t tease me! I said it was a worldly thought. I clearly still lack discipline,” Sow-san said, letting out a self-deprecating huff.
She’s the type who converts the “dignity-shattering” pheromones of a male into pure self-directed anger. It’s the only reason she hasn’t “fallen” yet. Impressive, really.
Neither of them says much, but it’s not because they’re bad at communicating; they just hate idle talk. They walk in sync, building a conversation word by word, trusting each other implicitly. Sow-san doesn’t have many people she can vent to, and Maggot-san just nods along with that composed face of hers. You’d never guess she spends every night with me.
…Wait. Now that I think about it, maybe they aren’t communicating that well after all.
”Well,” Sow-san said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “That day has finally come again. My head aches just thinking about it.”
”The scheduled day,” Maggot-san clarified.
”Yes. I’d rather not think about it at all…”
”This is also a battle,” Maggot-san said. “We serve the same master, but there is no room for hesitation here.”
”I know… you’re right. It feels like drawing a blade on my own kin, and I’m reluctant, but it can’t be helped,” Sow-san replied.
With those ominous words, the two of them entered the office where the rest of the Imperial Guard were gathered.
There was one problem I had to settle before I could join them on my trip. An item I had already stamped and approved.
It was time for the Imperial Guard’s salary increases.
* * *
There isn’t a soul in this world who hates getting a raise.
Except for one person. Me. The CEO is the only human being on earth who despises raises and payday.
I am the President. The Imperial Guard are my employees. On paper, we’re an organization centered around me, and I’m the one who distributes the salary from our collective revenue. Only in form, though.
To put it mildly, this is a “Black Company”⁴ of the highest order. On top of the power harassment and the constant threat of death, we operate on a terrifying zero-days-off-per-week schedule. Aside from a few holidays a year, there is no rest.
Now, let’s look at the average monthly pay for these Guards.
In this world, the starting salary for any public office – Imperial Guard or otherwise – is about 6 yen. Socially speaking, this is high income. In modern terms, 1 yen is worth roughly 20,000 to 60,000 yen (USD 130-400). It’s impossible to be precise because the economy is a mess.
With 6 yen a month, you can rent a room in a tenement, keep your belly full, and live a decent life. If you’re frugal, you could even feed a family of five. You might think, “Wait, isn’t that just a normal $3,000-a-month salary?”
Wrong. Because while food is cheap – you can get a month’s worth of grain for 50 sen – everything else is astronomical. A set of colored pencils costs a full yen. Paper is a luxury. A brand-new kimono will run you four or five yen.
To make matters worse, prices fluctuate wildly by region. In Kujukuri, machine-made goods are dirt cheap, but because we don’t have the space to farm, basic necessities like rice, sake, and sugar have to be imported at a premium.
In a sane world, you’d solve this through trade. But people here chose war and plunder instead. The surplus resources from the dungeons are dumped into self-defense and combat. It’s basically the end of the world, so I guess it makes sense.
So, where does the money come from?
First, there’s my allowance from the town. Just for being a male, I get pocket money. Once I hit adulthood and start fulfilling my duties, this becomes a real income. This is my main weapon for the future.
Then there’s the side hustle: Dungeon income. This is what most men focus on. The Exploration Squads find mystical objects and sell them to the town. The town takes a massive 80% cut as a tax, but the remaining 20% is still significant.
My Imperial Guard are actually quite diversified. They handle area development, monster culling, money lending, and even odd jobs like using their Psionic Powers for construction. Thanks to their tireless efforts, we bring in about 40 million yen in sales every month.
But after you strip away the overhead… there’s barely any profit left.
Dungeon fees, my entertainment expenses, rent, palanquin rentals, the cost of hiring help while the girls are away, and repairing gear after monster fights… once it’s all paid, I’m left with the squeezed dregs of a budget.
I have sole discretion over how to distribute those dregs. But if a man actually decided pay based on his whims, the organization would collapse in a week. Most men in this world just rubber-stamp whatever plan the Guards come up with. If it were up to a typical guy, he’d say, “I hate you, so no pay!” or “Maggot-san has G-cups, so she gets 10 yen; Flatty-chan has an A-cup, so she gets zero.”
The “Male” in this society is a figurehead – an idol president with zero financial sense and plenty of charm. He spends the budget however he wants because, from a male perspective, that’s why the Imperial Guard exist. They are an honorary league of lifelong corporate slaves meant to bankroll his existence.
But there’s a reason why a man bothers with this business instead of just begging for money. This twisted social system was designed to protect a man’s self-esteem. It allows him to feel like an independent individual – not a wealthy slave, but a taxpayer. A human being with dignity.
It’s like a housewife taking a part-time job once a week just so she doesn’t lose her mind.
To an outsider, the whole setup looks bizarre-some would even call it “abuse” to make a male work under these conditions.
Well, perhaps because of those circumstances, a massive shouting match usually breaks out whenever it’s time to settle the “salary.” It’s a full-blown civil war between the Intelligence Division⁵ and the Active Division⁶.
While the Intelligence girls sip tea in the office and talk shop with the male, the Active girls are out there earning coin by trading blows with monsters. Every cent they make is surrendered to the top, where the Intelligence Division handles the administration, including the ultimate power to decide everyone’s pay. It’s the classic friction between the “President’s auditors” and the “outside sales team.” You’d have to be crazy to think they’d ever get along.
Then there’s the final nail in the coffin: “Salary Transparency.”
In the Imperial Guard⁷, everyone is technically standing on the same line. On paper, despite differences in rank, there is no “superior” or “inferior.” Everyone is simultaneously a worker and an operator of this organization. The entire budget is shared with everyone, down to the last penny. Privacy? Non-existent. Everyone knows exactly what everyone else’s paycheck looks like.
Today is the day of the Salary Negotiation-a merciless, blood-soaked battlefield.
In this organization, your work is reflected in your pay far more than at any startup. This time of year, every male’s Imperial Guard unit is a mess of joy and despair. Office rooms everywhere are echoing with screams.
And then… boom. Right there in black and white:
’1st Place: Trash – 180 yen (20 sen) (Half-year total) (Equivalent to 1.2M yen/month ($8,000/month))
2nd Place: Cult Slut – Approx. 500k yen/month ($3,333/month)
3rd Place: Crybaby – Approx. 320k yen/month ($2,133/month)
4th Place: Sow – Approx. 260k yen/month ($1,733/month)
4th Place: Vocal Slut – Approx. 260k yen/month ($1,733/month)
6th Place: Flatty – Approx. 60k yen/month ($400/month)
7th Place: C*m Bucket – Approx. 50k yen/month ($333/month)
8th Place: Maggot – Approx. 20k yen/month ($133/month)’
Talk about a “Disparity Society⁸“…! There’s a 6ty-fold gap between the top and the bottom.
”Everyone seems to be here,” Sow-san said, scanning the faces lined up in the room. “These are your payouts for the coming term. While you have the legal right to view them, the amounts have already received the Young Master’s approval. Consider any complaints as a lack of faith in the Master’s judgment. Keep your baseless demands for raises to yourselves.”
Spouting her usual scripted lines, Sow-san disclosed everyone’s salary.
The whole gang was there. We’d cut the workday in half; even for this busy crew, today was the one exception.
Still, looking at them all at once… these women are actually gorgeous.
”Oh, mine went up a bit,” one muttered.
”No way, I can eat my fill this month too. Living like a king, living like a king~♪” another cheered.
”This is… wait,” a third realized. “Rather than the overall income, the amount I earned personally is larger…”
”Ugh. Why is Trash getting the most? This chart is making me feel bad,” Flatty asked.
”Wait… I… went down?” another girl whispered.
Everyone swarmed the wall at once.
Pay negotiations around here can turn into actual brawls, but since I’m a male with a decent head for numbers, I’d already double-checked that the assessments were fair and honest.
The salaries were listed in a ranking format, with brief justifications written alongside the numbers. Each person’s contributions were properly reflected, and we even provided separate sheets with detailed breakdowns. The overall income and expenses were posted right next to them.
In our team, we don’t let things like family lineage or personal favoritism screw with the numbers. Compared to other Imperial Guard units, we’re practically a paragon of justice. So, there was no way my “friendly” Imperial Guards would have a problem with the numbers I’d approved. The trials we’d overcome and the bonds we shared were on a different level than those other units.
Having snuck into the office, I waited with bated breath for their reactions.
”Who the hell came up with this?” a voice barked. “The assessor’s eyes must be rotting in their sockets. I think I’m gonna be sick.”
Yeah, I was totally wrong. And after Maggot-san and I worked so hard on it, too. I’ll refrain from identifying the speaker.
”I have a question,” Flatty-chan shouted, being the loudest as usual. “Like, first of all… isn’t the payout from the town way too low for how much work we did? Did someone drop a bag of gold somewhere?”
Sow-san silenced the others and let her speak for the group. It wasn’t that she valued Flatty’s opinion; it was more that Flatty wouldn’t shut up unless she was designated. She was being incredibly bratty, slapping the paper with the numbers on it.
”Look, Sow. The Young Master was supposed to get a huge ‘get-well’ payout, right? Before we talk salary, why are the actual earnings this pathetic?”
”Why on earth do you think the Young Master’s personal sympathy money would be funneled into your salary?” Sow-san replied, her face turning terrifying.
”So you’re saying I should just go beg the Young Master for it directly?”
”Hah… Stop with the idiotic jokes,” Sow-san said. “You have a separate ‘special allowance.’ Now keep your mouth shut.”
”Jackpot!”
Flatty-chan was over the moon.
”Yes! Yes! Pick me!”
Vocal Slut-san called out, raising her hand enthusiastically. She stood a head taller than the rest, making her impossible to miss. “I haven’t done anything wrong! Why is my salary exactly the same as last time when this is supposed to be raise season?”
”It’s true, you haven’t done anything,” Sow-san noted. “But there is a very clear reason for this. Do you know what it is?”
”I don’t know!”
Sow-san let out a heavy sigh. “It’s because you haven’t done anything. Are we clear now?”
”Ohhh! I get it! Makes sense!”
Vocal Slut-san was genuinely impressed and backed off. Her negotiation was over.
What is this? I feel this strange surge of guilt, like I’m scamming a naive grade-schooler… even though I didn’t actually do anything wrong.
”Are you… really okay with that?” Sow-san asked, checking one last time.
”Yes, I understood properly!”
”Vocal Slut, if there’s something you want, just tell me,” Sow-san added. “I’ll pull from the discretionary fund if necessary. But listen-only for things a bodyguard actually needs.”
”Yes!”
She pulled her massive frame back into the crowd. Then the floodgates opened. Questions hammered Sow-san from every direction.
”Sow, what’s this line item?”
”Hey, Sow, what’s the reason for this deduction?”
”Sow! Can you teaching me here?”
”Wait! Wait! Calm down!” Sow-san shouted. “I’ll take you one at a time!”
Sow-san was panicking, trying to hold them back. She is just a woman, not some legendary multi-tasking saint; she couldn’t possibly answer everyone at once.
”Fine! Is there anyone here who is dissatisfied with their payout? If so, raise your hand-oh, for god’s sake, that’s everyone.”
She finally picked a proper spokesperson. Her eyes landed on the composed figure of Crybaby-san.
”Crybaby. What is it? Speak up,” Sow-san said.
”Dissatisfaction, rather than that, I would like you to explanation the reason,” Crybaby-san replied. “Across the board, we seem to be falling behind Imperial Guards of the same generation… If the assessment is logical, I won’t object.”
The Imperial Guard are the town’s elite. Originally, they’d be making at least twenty percent more. Plus, the gaps between individual salaries are brutal. There’s a reason for all of it, though.
I hadn’t seen Crybaby-san in a while. She’s in the Intelligence Division, but as the Foreign Affairs Officer, she’s almost never in the office, so she’s out of the loop on the internal mess. She’s like a tiny “older sister” spirit, always running around outside the neighborhood/town/street (within the town) for negotiations and procedures. Also… I don’t know if it was the stress, but she’d gotten a bit plump. Luckily, she didn’t look bad-she just looked round and cute, like a child.
Cute. But please, go back to how you were.
”Alright, let’s start with the explanation for Crybaby,” Sow-san said.
”Please.”
”In your case, you saw a micro-increase from last season,” Sow-san explained. “I haven’t forgotten how hard you worked mediating with Ichihara and reconciling with Lord Ichimatsu-sama’s Guard. I’ve added a temporary bonus for those achievements.”
”Thank you.”
”As for why the base pay is so low… and why the total revenue is struggling despite our success in the field… well, that requires a bit of background. Maggot, take it away.”
Maggot-san, the accountant who actually crunched the numbers, looked sharp and prickly. She’s effectively the one holding the purse strings. I thought she’d be feeling the heat, but she didn’t flinch.
”To start with… we have the ‘Loan Principle’ to consider,” Maggot-san stated, laying out the grim reality of the finances. “The reason for the overall stagnation in payouts is that we are deducting an equal share from everyone to cover the interest on our debt from last year, as well as the projected repayments for the coming term.”
That’s the catch. We’re borrowing money from everyone under the sun. You could say we’re drowning in debt.
”During the search for the Young Master, we had zero income and were borrowing from every source we could find,” Maggot-san continued. “We are currently in the repayment phase of that debt.”
”How much is left?” Crybaby-san asked.
”With the carryover on our line of credit… a little over two years.”
”That… is not a great situation,” Crybaby-san groaned.
In Kujukuri Town⁹, everything is bought on credit. Shops record the tab, and they come to collect once every 6 months. Your salary is paid in a big lump sum to match. It’s the Edokko style¹⁰. Two years meant we were four payment cycles behind.
Now, the tables had turned on Sow-san. His leverage had evaporated.
But in this specific instance, Trash-san was absolutely right.
Trash-san ran a side hustle selling mystical objects increased with ¹¹ Psionic Power as a side business. She single-handedly pulled in more revenue than the other seven members combined-even with them out there recovering mystical objects or managing assets.
To put it bluntly, the organization would’ve been bankrupt months ago without her. Eighty percent of the Imperial Guards’ payroll was essentially coming directly out of Trash-san’s pocket.
We weren’t just colleagues; we were her dependents.
In the end, the Elder Sister who brings home the biggest paycheck is the one who truly calls the shots.
”No, it’s not quite like that,” Trash-san said. “This is Psionic Power that I am guardianshiping from the Young Master. I have no reservations about giving my all to the cause. And I have no dissatisfaction regarding the compensation.”
The clerical group-the administrative suits-knew better than to sour her mood.
However, she didn’t choose to flex her authority.
”That said, the current regime is not healthy,” Trash-san continued. “I never know when I might lose my life, even if I don’t intend to. The Exploration Squad is that kind of job. I’m concerned that relying so heavily on my Psionic Power for funding is a dangerous gamble for our future.”
”Hmm…” Sow-san muttered.
Trash-san had a way of saying terrifying things with total nonchalance.
Sow-san leaned forward with a proposal.
”This might be a tough pill to swallow for someone who loves mysticism as much as you do, but… could you reduce your time in the field? No, why not quit exploration entirely and focus solely on utilizing your Psionic Power?” Sow-san asked.
”You mean staying in town all the time?” Trash-san asked.
”Exactly,” Sow-san replied.
Trash-san rested a fingertip against her chin, lost in thought.
”I’ll admit, it’s something I’ve wrestled with myself,” she said.
This talk makes me a little happy.
Trash-san’s hobby is dungeon exploration.
It’s kind of like a controlling husband trying to strip a female of her career to keep her tied to the house. It’s like trying to snatch the goose that laid the golden eggs away from the freedom of the lakeside where foxes and wolves lurk and lock it in a cage.
Finally, she looked up and gave her answer.
”I can’t quit the exploration. I’ve realized recently that my Psionic Power actually consumes experience to function.”
”What are you talking about? Give us a full explanation on that point,” Sow-san demanded.
For the first time in ages, Trash-san began to explain the mechanics of her Psionic Power to the group.
Her Psionic Power allowed her to duplicate any material she placed inside her pocket.
If it was a mystical object, she could even mimic the mystery dwelling within it. It was a flawless copy.
The limitations were clear: she couldn’t duplicate massive objects, it drained her stamina, and powerful mystical objects required a significant time investment.
Most importantly, it had to be a space she personally recognized as her pocket. Attaching a giant bag to her clothes didn’t cheat the system.
And then there was… well, a while back, I’d asked her if she could duplicate ‘seed’ on top of a bed.
She’d given me a rare glimpse into her vulnerability, whispering that she didn’t want to answer because she was afraid I’d stop being allowed to have s*x. The Elder Sister at that time was like a young girl and was very impression-able… in short, that part is unknown.
Trash-san continued her technical explanation.
”You all know that by slaying monsters or clearing dungeon floors, you accumulate experience that hones your abilities,” Trash-san said.
”Right,” Sow-san noted. “That’s how your bodyability and the strength of Psionic Power increase through that.”
”Well, it seems my power taps into that upper limit to create duplicates.”
”Heh-,” everyone said in admiration.
”This last mission alone burned through a massive amount of my experience. My bodyability has actually regressed to where they were when I first became a Psionic Power user.”
Trash-san stared at her hand, slowly clenching and unclenching her fist.
It wasn’t just a stamina drain; it was a consumption-type Psionic Power.
She was literally trading her experience points to increase items.
”I guess there’s no such thing as a free lunch,” Sow-san said. “What happens if you keep this up?”
”I’ll either revert to a baseline human, or lose my status as a Psionic Power user entirely,” Trash-san replied. “Either way, it won’t be pretty.”
Not even Trash-san knew the answer for sure.
Which meant it was a mystery to everyone.
”I still have a bit of a buffer, but regardless, I have to head into the dungeons periodically to cull monsters. I can’t stay in town forever,” Trash-san said.
”Then we’ll have to start turning down requests for increased production of medical treatment drugs,” Sow-san said, nodding. “Understood. I’ll handle the negotiations with the town hall side to address the shortfall.”
”Thank you,” Trash-san said.
Psionic Powers often worked this way-you didn’t know the exact specs until the consequences slapped you in the face.
And since many of these effects were irreversible, you had to tread carefully.
”I’ll say it again: I’m satisfied with my pay. But I’m terrified of causing trouble for the Young Master if I’m suddenly out of commission. I want us to build a regime that can support him, regardless of vacancies.”
”Agreed,” Sow-san replied. “That’s an assignment for all of us. But we are truly grateful you’re here, and we won’t forget the sacrifice you’re making.”
”Good enough for me,” Trash-san said.
”Yeah,” Sow-san added.
Sow-san and Trash-san shared a mutual nod.
It was a remarkably mature exchange.
We had a standing contract to duplicate medical treatment drugs recovered from the dungeons and supply them to the town.
The reputation of our product was stellar; it had saved countless lives in the recent conflict.
It was also a massive cash cow. At its peak, we were looking at transactions in the hundreds of millions.
To put it another way, these people had walked away from that kind of wealth just to indulge my whims and head into the Uncanny Valley-a life-threatening meat grinder that offered no guarantee of a payout.
I was forever in their debt.
Meanwhile, Flatty-chan-who was supposed to be Trash-san’s partner in all this-suddenly started acting fidgety.
She poked Trash-san in the ribs, a mischievous glint in her eye.
”Hey, hey! So your Psionic Power is actually defective?” Flatty-chan teased. “I guess this is the last season you’ll be pulling in that ridiculous salary, huh?”
”It’s a shame, I know,” Trash-san said. “It seems my luck has its limits. Just like the number of people I can afford to support with my pocket’s contents.”
”Ugh, you’re so aloof! You don’t even look sad. How boring,” Flatty-chan said, pouting.
”Would you prefer it if I were depressed?” Trash-san asked.
”I didn’t say that! Don’t be so mean!” Flatty-chan barked.
I think she did say it, though…
”Besides,” Flatty-chan continued, “increasing mystical objects and turning them into money is such a vulgar Psionic Power. It must be your upbringing. And just making copies? Totally lacks any interest.”
She was really leaning into it now, completely setting aside her own deeds.
Did she not realize that if the copy Psionic Power vanished, Flatty-chan’s salary would disappear like smoke?
”Unlike some people, my Psionic Power creates entirely new things and only costs a little stamina. Isn’t that just wonderful? I guess my compatibility with the master was just superior. It’s almost a burden, really.”
Flatty-chan was officially trying to take the high ground.
Trash-san looked at her with a mix of exhaustion and pity, barely affected by the jabs.
”I agree that synthesis is a power with immense potential,” Trash-san said. “It’s just a shame about the owner.”
”Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?!” Flatty-chan snapped.
”Exactly what it sounds like…”
”How irritating! You’re always like this! Just acknowledge me for once!”
Trash-san was surprised and turned eyes toward Flatty-chan as if looking at something feelings-bad.
There was a massive gap in their rivalry.
Flatty-chan was obsessed with Trash-san, but Trash-san didn’t even see her as a competitor.
The Elder Sister just had a look on her face that said, ‘What is this girl even rambling about?’
Flatty-chan didn’t take the hint and doubled down.
”Look! Just look at this!” Flatty-chan shouted, pointing to her head. “This head injury? It’s never going to heal! So tell me, why is your salary still higher than mine after everything I’ve been through?”
She pointed to the side of her head, where the cloth and scalp have become one.
She usually kept it hidden with her hair, but that patch was completely bald. For a female, if her appearance is damaged, the number of males who will engage in intercourse-negotiations will decrease, so it’s a matter of life and death.
But Trash-san said with cold eyes.
It was an expression of ‘I see, that makes sense.’
”A head injury, I see,” Trash-san said quietly. “Well, that explains the brain damage. Poor thing.”
”I’m talking about the outside, not the inside!! I’ll blow you away!”
Trash-san and Flatty-chan immediately descended into a physical scuffle.
Sow-san bellowed.
Since the two of them are going at it without holding back, their voices are loud.
”Hey you guys, don’t get violent! If you want to scrap, take it outside! Next order of business! Next!”
”Yes! Ye-es! Ice cream money! Give me ice cream money!”
”…What is it this time.”
Sow-san is slightly fed up.
Vocal Slut-san was waving her hand enthusiastically, completely unfazed by the brawl.
”Fine… Vocal Slut,” Sow-san sighed. “What is it? You didn’t seem to have any dissatisfaction regarding the evaluation criteria earlier. What’s the issue?”
”I want ice cream money! Can I file it as a business expense?”
Sow-san was suspicious hearing that.
The other members are also tilting their heads in confusion.
”Ice cream money?” Sow-san asked.
”Yes!”
”I don’t really follow. Start from the beginning,” Sow-san commanded.
”Well, you see. I was at the park with the Young Master, and we ate some together…”
And that was the catalyst for another several hours of grueling salary negotiations.
Questions looped back on themselves, and shouts regarding income and expenditure reached a fever pitch.
It was a demonic meeting where you decide your own salary. Since an increase for one person literally meant a decrease for yourself, it was like hell at the end.
Actually, this was one of the better ones.
In other households, you had to deal with blood feuds between family estates or a single Imperial Guard who was suspiciously close with the master, leading to even more jealousy and resentment. No joke, incidents of sword-drawing also occur.
Even so, this is quite peaceful. It’s a good thing.
And then, night.
Next up is the drinking party.
To be honest, the party was even worse than the meeting.
I really wish I hadn’t seen it.
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Summary:
The protagonist, overwhelmed by homesickness, discreetly visits his Imperial Guards, eavesdropping on Maggot-san and Sow-san as they discuss his well-being. They emphasize their duty to shield him from feeling burdened, revealing their deep concern for his emotional state. The narrative then shifts to explore the intricate matriarchal economy governing the group, highlighting the protagonist’s stressful role as the ‘President’ responsible for overseeing salary negotiations among the Guards.
A tense salary negotiation session unfolds, exposing the stark wealth disparities within the Imperial Guard. The protagonist observes as Sow-san and Maggot-san navigate complaints from a diverse array of guards, from the outspoken Flatty to the naive Vocal Slut. Amidst the discussions, it’s revealed that the group is heavily in debt due to the exorbitant costs incurred during their search for the Young Master, adding financial strain to an already tense situation.
The internal hierarchy of the organization is further exposed during the negotiations. Trash-san, the primary earner, discloses a critical weakness in her duplication Psionic Power: it drains her level and experience points, limiting her abilities. Tensions escalate into a petty argument between Trash-san and Flatty-chan, reflecting the underlying friction within the group. The chapter concludes on a foreboding note as the meeting transitions into a somber drinking party, hinting at unresolved issues and looming challenges.
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Trivia:
- Imperial Guards often use derogatory names as titles (Maggot, Sow, Vocal Slut).
- Sow-san is Aerodynamically built’ compared to Maggot-san’s ‘ample chest.’
- The town takes an 80% tax cut on dungeon mystical objects.
- The social system is designed to provide males with a sense of ‘dignity’ and ‘taxpayer’ status rather than just being valuable slaves.
- The protagonist manages a budget of approximately 40 million yen in sales, but net profit is minimal.
- The top earner (Trash) makes 60 times more than the bottom earner (Maggot).
- The Intelligence Division works in the office while the Active Division fights monsters.
- The group uses a credit system where payments are settled every 6 months.
- Crybaby-san is usually away from the office as a Foreign Affairs Officer.
- The current debt is scheduled to last for another two years (four payment cycles).
- Trash-san’s ‘Experience Debt’ means she is physically getting weaker every time she funds the group.
- The Imperial Guards are 80% funded by a single member’s side hustle.
- Flatty-chan’s head injury is more than cosmetic; it’s a ‘market value’ issue in this setting.
- The ‘Young Master’ is the focal point of the group’s loyalty, despite their internal bickering.
- The scuffle between Trash-san and Flatty-chan is fueled by a one-sided rivalry
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Character Insight:
The protagonist shows a modern corporate mindset, viewing his fantasy subordinates as employees in a ‘Black Company.’ Maggot and Sow display deep loyalty and concern for him, even though they maintain a professional, almost military distance.
Sow-san shows a blend of strict leadership and protective discretion, offering ‘special allowances’ to prevent direct begging to the Young Master. Vocal Slut demonstrates a high level of physical presence but low administrative awareness, while Crybaby-san provides a professional baseline despite her physical fatigue/stress-related changes.
Trash-san shows a sacrificial side, trading her own growth for the group’s stability, while Flatty-chan displays intense insecurity masking as arrogance.
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Behind the Scenes:
The author uses the protagonist’s modern knowledge to satirize both fantasy economies and real-world Japanese ‘Black Company’ culture.
The ‘Edokko’ style of financial management reflects the historical culture of Edo (old Tokyo), where people were known for their lack of savings and high-frequency, high-spending cycles.
The author uses ‘Salary Negotiation’ as a trope to humanize the high-fantasy setting and highlight the mundane struggles of powerful warriors.
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TL Notes:
Notes:
• Uribayashi – High-end noble caretaker with decades of common sense and a sharp tongue.
• Biwa – A young female servant with erotic brown skin and an athletic build. Highly ethical but easily influenced by the protagonist. Childhood friend of Ryoko-chan. A rickshaw puller who pants while working; acts as the moral watchdog or ‘Lolicon Police.
• Psionic Power – Mental energy concept in Chapter 35’s lecture. Trash-san teaches it to strengthen the protagonist’s mind after dungeon ordeals.
• Ichimatsu – A high-ranking figure associated with the Imperial Guard, mentioned as having spineless guards around him, with no further details provided.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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