Prologue
‘It’s a comedy from a distance, but a tragedy from up close.’
It’s a pretty famous sentence, and personally, it’s also a sentence that has touched my heart over the past few years. That’s how my civil servant life is now.
From a distance, he looks like a thug wielding omnipotent public power, but if you look closely, he’s nothing more than a pitiful middle manager who gets beat up from above and then from below. It is true that the powers of imperial officials are enormous. However, if you look around, such public servants are widely spread. Um, like a dog.
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No matter how good your family name is, if you have a high rank, what do you do? On top of that, things like me being a duke and being a minister are holding on. If the trinity of ability, luck, and personal connections is achieved, even if one reaches the pinnacle of civil servants, one cannot be vigilant. Because the imperial family exists above it. That’s why you flip the imperial family? It’s perfect for a three-legged forced meeting in heaven.
That’s why the life of a civil servant is sad. A boss who only pecks, a motive who competes for a promotion, and a subordinate who terribly beats up. In that situation, even if you handle your work well, it’s worth it, and if you don’t, of course you get beaten up. Oh, that’s so scary!
“Chief. If your Excellency doesn’t spring up right away, I’ll kill you.”
It still is. The vicious direct superior does not hesitate to make threatening remarks to a pitiful and weak public official.
“Tell me that you will feel responsible for this situation and resign.”
“Didn’t you use that the other day? Then the ink tank flew out and it was no joke.”
“Was that the time?”
Looking out the window. It seems to express the collapse of the wind and rain. Strange, climate manipulation wizards are rare…
“Are you very angry?”
“Same as usual.”
“That means you’re mad.”
Sometimes it’s kind of pitiful. If I was so angry, I would die early. The deputy director, who had informed the minister with a small murmur, nodded silently. Yes, you who act as a messenger have a lot of trouble too.
“I’ll be back. Calling all the managers.”
“Come back alive.”
“Yes.”
Leaving behind the conductor’s farewell, I moved on with heavy steps. Still, I’m not in a position where I have to come if I come and go if I go because I’m the general manager, but it’s spectacular to be called. Please, either the man or I would retire soon.
“What the f*ck do you do!”
“Sorry! Sorry!”
As soon as you enter the minister’s office, you hear shouting and instinctive head banging.
Today was the same as always.
Well, like a dog.
