Arknights: Prime Minister of Kjerag — Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Declaration of War, and the Originium Heater

The County of Ascalon was a far cry from the towering majesty of Londinium, the City of Ten Thousand Cities. It was just an ordinary, sleepy Victorian town. Its ruler, the Count of Ascalon, possessed virtually zero ambition. He actively avoided Victoria’s bloody political theater and harbored absolutely no desire to expand his borders.

His peers in the nobility frequently mocked him for his cowardice. Yet, the Count’s philosophy remained crystal clear: What is my most sensitive trait? My political alignment.

This deep survival tactic allowed him to float above the dramatic upheavals in Londinium, completely avoiding the meat-grinder vortex between the royalists and the new nobility.

But that was entirely beside the point. Ernst hadn’t traveled all this way to visit a reclusive Victorian noble.

“Prime Minister, we have arrived.”

The car rolled to a smooth halt. The driver hurried around to the side and pulled the door open. Ernst stepped out, brushing the travel dust from his coat, and looked up. A magnificent seven-story modern complex dominated the street corner.

“This is the headquarters of Karlan Trade in Victoria,” the driver introduced.

Ernst didn’t need the clarification. The silver logo of Karlan Trade was mounted proudly on the imposing facade, catching the golden afternoon sun and reflecting it down onto the pavement.

Back in Turicum, the Karlan Trade branch was a jarring, three-story architectural disaster that tried and failed to blend modern aesthetics with traditional Kjerag design. And Ernst’s own government office? A miserable single-story shack.

“Too extravagant!” Ernst ground his teeth.

Aurora, standing right beside him, nodded vigorously. “Exactly! Far too extravagant!”

Aurora was accustomed to a life of strict frugality. Back when she studied in Columbia—having run away from home without a single cent of financial support—she survived in a perpetual state of exhausting part-time jobs and late-night cram sessions. There were weeks where she subsisted entirely on near-expired bread scavenged from the university cafeteria. To her, studying or working only required a flat surface and a light source. If times were tough, a stone pillar and a flickering candle would suffice.

Despite those brutal conditions, she had successfully earned her Ph.D. in Defense Engineering, transforming herself into the kind of elite intellectual that would make any paranoid dictator lose sleep. It took a terrifying amount of raw talent and sheer willpower.

Because of that grueling past, Karlan Trade’s blatant display of wealth disgusted her. The people of Kjerag were still struggling to put food on the table, yet here was Karlan Trade, erecting a massive, luxurious headquarters on foreign soil. What were they playing at?

“Damn it, I want a massive office building too!” Ernst sighed, his eyes practically glowing with envy.

Aurora’s mouth was already moving. “Yes, exactly, they—wait, what?” She snapped her head toward him, her resentful glare now entirely focused on her boss.

Ernst coughed, slightly intimidated by the fierce look in her eyes. “Think about it! If the office is impressive, the staff will be in a better mood. Better mood equals higher efficiency! It’s basic science!”

“Does anyone actually feel good while working?” she retorted, crossing her arms.

Ernst blinked. “Fair point. You have me there. But still, as the Prime Minister of Kjerag, I should at least be allowed to put an Originium Heater in my office, right?”

“You can. You just have to file the paperwork,” Aurora replied, her tone shifting back to strict administrative neutrality. “Government funds are plentiful right now. Submit the requisition, wait for approval, and the treasury will release the money. You should have enough to buy the heater by next spring.”

“Next year?!” Ernst gaped at her. “I’m the one who approves and stamps the forms! Can’t we simplify this?”

Aurora narrowed her eyes. “You were the one who publicly promised to disclose the flow of that six hundred million to every single Kjerag citizen. Do you really want the very first line item on that public ledger to be the Prime Minister embezzling state funds for a personal heater?”

Ernst fell silent.

Suddenly, he completely understood the appeal of running a corrupt, shadow-economy monarchy. Treating the national treasury like a personal piggy bank was incredibly convenient. With six hundred million, he could build a hundred of these Karlan Trade towers back in Kjerag!

But understanding the temptation didn’t mean he had the flexible morals required to actually become a tyrant. He slumped his shoulders, grumbling under his breath.

“How ironic. I have the executive authority to declare war on Victoria on behalf of Kjerag, but I don’t have the clearance to buy myself a heater.”

“Those are the rules,” Aurora stated flatly.

Then, she paused. She pursed her lips, the rigid line of her shoulders softening. Stepping into his personal space, she leaned close. Her breath was warm against his ear, carrying a faint, sweet scent as she lowered her voice to a private whisper.

“But… if you really want one, I’ll buy it for you. With my own money.”

Ernst looked at the Ursus girl, genuinely moved. Such deep kindness. I’m already working like a dog for the people of Kjerag in this life. I’ll just have to repay you in the next!

Right as the tender, intimate atmosphere peaked between them, a hesitant voice broke the silence from behind.

“Ahem. Excuse me, is this Karlan Trade?”

Ernst turned. A tall, blonde girl stood on the pavement, watching them with a mixture of curiosity and polite awkwardness. He scrutinized her for a second, then nodded, slipping into a heavily accented, grammatically questionable Victorian dialect.

“Yes, this is the place.” He paused, then smoothly added, “Miss, have we met somewhere before?”

Vina opened her mouth, entirely unsure of how to respond.

It wasn’t shyness. She was just utterly speechless. What kind of ancient, dusty pickup line is that? For a surreal second, she felt as though she were looking at her late father.

Ever the polite daughter, Vina forced an awkward but courteous smile. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t believe we’ve crossed paths.”

His accent was so bizarrely thick that she didn’t even entertain the paranoid thought that he might be an assassin sent by the nobility to capture her.

Ernst didn’t push the issue. Back on Earth, he had been a completely casual Arknights player. He vaguely recognized Vina because she was one of the early operators, but the transition from a 2D illustration to a living, breathing 3D person wearing different clothes made it difficult to place her. Without the years of daily interaction he shared with Enciodes and Enya, drawing a blank was perfectly normal.

Besides, ever since arriving in this world, he had experienced random bouts of déjà vu with practically every beast-eared girl he crossed paths with. He could only blame his past life’s degenerate browsing habits for scrambling his brain.

Vina still found the duo a bit strange, but she had just watched them step out of a car right in front of the building. She had a rough guess as to why they were here. focusing on her future prospects over her mild discomfort, she gestured toward the glass doors.

“Are you two also here to apply after seeing the recruitment notice?” she asked. “To be honest, I am too. Shall we head in together?”

Ernst and Aurora exchanged a quick, loaded glance. A brilliant light seemed to flash in their eyes.

Oh, what did I tell you? Ernst thought, a smug grin tugging at his lips. I said this approach would bait them in, didn’t I?