Arknights: Prime Minister of Kjerag — Chapter 78

Chapter 78: Ernst’s Win-Win

“Liars, the whole lot of them! Absolute liars!”

Standing on the freezing platform and watching the train sit completely empty of passengers, Ernst crumpled the private letter Vina had sent back and grumbled into the biting wind.

They had sworn up and down that they definitely would not be captivated by the glamorous, neon-lit world of Lungmen. Yet here they were, claiming they had important matters to attend to and extending their stay. It was all a complete fabrication.

He let out a heavy sigh, his breath turning into a thick cloud of white mist in the frigid Kjerag air. As expected, he never should have let Vina leave the territory. What was he supposed to do if the delegation from Windermere arrived in a few days?

Ernst felt a phantom chill crawl across his skin just thinking about the time Kent had tried to speak to him in heavily accented, broken Kjerag. Back then, Ernst had been the one suffering through the linguistic torture. But if Vina did not return in time, forcing Ernst to personally entertain the esteemed guests from Windermere in their native Victorian, the suffering would entirely shift to the other side.

This was not a trivial matter. Billions in vital subsidies for Windermere were on the line. As a certain ancient Khan once deeply stated: if a supreme ruler treats you like a brother, and you try to play petty mind games with them, you are asking for absolute ruin. That was an unacceptable outcome.

Even setting aside the incredibly precious start-up capital the Grand Duke of Windermere had provided to Kjerag, the sheer scale of the Duchy of Windermere’s vast market was a massive, lucrative cake that Kjerag absolutely could not afford to drop.

The rich are the lords. This was the most unpretentious, endlessly verified truth of the world ever since the concept of currency was born. If it was at all possible, Ernst deeply wanted to maintain a flawless relationship with the Windermere family.

Of course, his headache extended far beyond just the financial aspect. Even with Vina’s unexpected delay, Ernst was not entirely devoid of Victorian-speaking talent in his camp.

If push truly came to shove, he could always have Aurora step in. Their resident Miss Polar Bear had, after all, studied abroad in Columbia. While her thick, drawling Columbian-accented Victorian could never compare to Vina’s refined, aristocratic pronunciation that could effortlessly charm a room, Aurora could at least function as a passable translator.

But as for letting her actually speak directly to the guests? Forget it. Addressing a proud Grand Duke of Victoria using a casual Columbian dialect would be perceived as a terribly rude mockery, a borderline diplomatic provocation. Ernst had never personally met the Grand Duke of Windermere and had no idea what kind of temper she possessed, so such potentially explosive faux pas had to be strictly avoided at the negotiating table.

Yet, what truly puzzled Ernst above all else was a much more personal grievance. It was fine that Vina had not come back yet, but where on Terra was his Originium Heater?

He watched the workers unloading crates of fireworks, delicate paper lanterns, complex window decorations, and massive rolls of firecrackers. Everything had been brought back perfectly, but his precious heater was nowhere to be seen.

She had promised him. She could not just go back on her word like that, could she?

“Prime Minister, about the heater…” A Karlan Trade employee stepped forward, rubbing the back of his neck with a deeply apologetic expression. “The heater is broken. Wei Yenwu sent his people to search our warehouse several times, and the heater was damaged during one of those raids. The L.G.D. promised to compensate us for the damages, and Miss Vina is currently staying behind to officially receive that compensation.”

The employee sighed, his breath pluming in the cold. “She really cared about this request. She personally went out to buy the heater the very moment she arrived in Lungmen, it is just… sigh, Wei Yenwu!”

“Sigh, Wei Yenwu indeed!”

Hearing this explanation, Ernst could only echo the heavy sigh, firmly pinning all the blame on the Chief Executive of Lungmen.

Combining this new information with the overly cheerful news Vina had sent back earlier, Ernst immediately pieced together what must have actually happened in the distant city. He pressed his lips together, a deep hint of sadness washing over his expression.

It seemed Vina’s journey was far from the smooth, successful diplomatic mission she had described in her letters.

Wei Yenwu had actually ordered a search of Karlan Trade’s legitimate, fully licensed caravan. This was something SilverAsh had never once mentioned happening before. It was highly likely an unmatched first for their company.

That ruthless Governor had no reason to apply double standards. If he treated a simple, innocent Originium Heater with such harsh and rough violence, Vina must have suffered an unimaginable amount of hardship and humiliation in Lungmen as well.

Did she write that overly optimistic letter specifically to keep him from worrying?

Ernst understood the truth in his heart.

At this point, even the most unreasonable, demanding boss would know that Vina could no longer be blamed for her absence.

Their esteemed Minister of Foreign Affairs of Kjerag had clearly done her absolute best, but Governor Wei Yenwu was simply too much of a tyrannical scoundrel. Ernst felt a deep pang of pity for Vina. She was clearly being harassed, suppressed, and ostracized in the towering concrete jungle of Lungmen, yet she still stubbornly insisted on sending good news back to Kjerag. And now, she had specifically chosen to stay behind in that hostile city, desperately trying to prevent her well-intentioned lies from being exposed, still fighting for their cause.

I truly did not misjudge you, Vina.

I hope you manage to have a good New Year in Lungmen despite everything.

Far away, Vina, who was currently sitting comfortably in the Lungmen Governor’s Office and thoroughly enjoying a lavish, mouth-watering meal personally cooked by Madam Fumizuki, suddenly felt a sharp itch in her nose and let out a delicate sneeze. She looked out the grand window at the bustling Lungmen streets, where gentle snowflakes had just begun to fall, and prayed internally. ‘I hope Ernst does not worry about me and enjoys the festival. I am doing quite well here.’

Back at the freezing station, after silently wishing Vina the best, Ernst looked back at the Karlan Trade employee and waved his hand dismissively.

“Then let us drop the matter of the heater for now. Where are the fireworks?”

“Right this way, sir. Here.” The employee immediately turned around, leading Ernst a short distance down the platform until they arrived in front of a heavily loaded train car. He pushed the heavy metal door open and gestured inside.

The spacious car was piled high to the ceiling with fireworks and firecrackers of all shapes and sizes. Stacks of beautifully painted lanterns and delicate window paper-cuts filled the remaining gaps, making Ernst’s eyes light up with genuine appreciation.

He had to admit, apart from the tragic fate of the Originium Heater, out of the three specific tasks he had entrusted to Vina, the procurement of the festive supplies had been handled with absolute perfection.

The complex carvings on the custom wooden lanterns and the masterfully trimmed window paper-cuts looked exceptionally beautiful. Although the Lungmen manufacturers clearly did not know how to read the native Kjerag script, they had carefully studied the Kjeragandr Epic that Ernst had asked Vina to bring them as a reference. The stories depicted on these lanterns and paper-cuts were not only vivid and dynamic, but each one also had a clear, highly accurate corresponding narrative, perfectly integrated with the sacred legend of Kjeragandr creating the nation of Kjerag.

If these illustrations were presented in a slightly different format, with some basic letters added and a few of the more mature, ‘unhealthy’ mythological stories carefully censored out, this entire collection could easily serve as a high-quality children’s science and history book.

Ernst nodded with deep satisfaction.

“Excellent work. Thank you. Now, could I trouble you once more to separate the ‘surprise fireworks’ from this pile and send them directly to the Saintess of the Karlan Temple?”

“Huh?” The Karlan Trade employee blinked, completely stunned.

“Huh?” Ernst blinked back, equally stunned. “What are you ‘huh-ing’ about?”

“What ‘surprise fireworks’?” the employee asked, his face a mask of pure bewilderment.

Ernst fell dead silent. The cold wind howling through the open train car door suddenly felt much sharper.

A terrifying conjecture popped into his mind. Was it possible, probable, or even highly likely, that Vina had completely forgotten to tell these hardworking Karlan Trade employees that a select few of these fireworks actually contained highly customized, extremely explosive ‘special surprises’?

If that were truly the case… Ernst slowly turned his head to glare at the massive, towering mountain of firecrackers and identical firework boxes. With a final, desperate sliver of hope, he asked his question.

“When you brought all of this cargo up here, did you sort these fireworks at all? For example, if a specific batch was originally sitting in a separate pile in Lungmen, did you keep them all grouped together during transit?”

“Uh… no, sir.” The employee shook his head quite frankly, without a single hint of embarrassment or hesitation. “We just packed them in wherever they fit to save space.”

Ernst slowly raised a hand to cover his face, massaging his temples as he nodded gently. “Alright then. Never mind. Forget I asked.”

This was just fantastic. The fireworks were completely, hopelessly mixed together. This meant that the specially modified fireworks capable of launching Enciodes SilverAsh straight into the stratosphere and blowing up in his smug face could no longer be identified by anyone.

The grand game of Kjerag Russian Roulette had officially begun.

Ernst could only pray to Kjeragandr that no truly disastrous unexpected situations would arise. For example, he desperately hoped that the ordinary Karlan Trade employees would not coincidentally receive the rigged fireworks among their holiday share, resulting in a poor worker being blasted into the sky while screaming in terror.

If that happened… Ernst swore to himself that he absolutely would not help SilverAsh compensate their medical bills or their salaries for that month and the following few months.

Then again, if those unfortunate employees were unfairly fired by his brother over a fireworks accident, Ernst could always step in. In the grand spirit of humanitarianism, he could generously offer them a new job, swing his metaphorical hoe, and happily dig at the foundation of his brother’s corporate wall.

Hmm. This was what philosophers called the duality of things.

On the surface, Ernst’s brilliant plan to give Enya a thrilling, stress-relieving prank had failed. But in reality, Enya might still randomly receive the ‘surprise fireworks’ by pure chance. And not only that, he now also had the distinct possibility of poaching highly trained talents directly from his brother’s company. And the ultimate goal of severely annoying SilverAsh was practically guaranteed to be achieved either way!

Win-win. Ernst wins twice!