Cliff would never do a good deed that harmed his own interests to benefit someone else.
Ernst knew the Blacksteel CEO’s recommendation of Trimounts’ tech giants carried ulterior motives.
Perhaps Cliff wanted to use the opportunity to rub shoulders with prominent figures, secure advanced weaponry ahead of schedule, or simply angle for a thirty-seventy profit split.
Regardless of the underlying scheme, Ernst had to weigh the proposal seriously.
The sheer potential was too tempting to ignore.
Down the line, this could very well become the foundation of Kjerag’s industrial development.
But right now, Ernst faced a far more pressing crisis.
He desperately needed to recruit a functional administrative staff to populate his government cabinet, which currently sat echoing and empty.
He would certainly conduct local recruitment drives within Kjerag, but the odds of finding suitable bureaucratic talent were vanishingly slim.
It was the same chronic issue plaguing the snowy nation: Kjerag possessed zero infrastructure for higher education, and consequently, zero educated professionals.
Administrative work was not like athletics or applied mathematics, where raw natural talent could carry the day.
Government bureaucracy required a person to endure endless, mind-numbing repetition while mastering the holy trinity of public service: passing the buck, placating the angry masses, and exploiting legal loopholes to survive endless audits.
As for actually accomplishing practical goals, that was a task meant to be outsourced, especially in parliamentary systems.
It sounded simple on paper.
The reality was a grinding machine.
Those tedious, unchanging routines were the load-bearing pillars of a stable society.
The so-called holy trinity of skills were merely emergency protocols for when things inevitably caught fire.
A government was not a single entity; it was a tangled web of conflicting interests.
If a citizen kicked their neighbor’s pet, a normal neighborhood dispute ended with a simple apology.
In a massive bureaucratic collective, resolving that same dispute required an investigation into who ordered the kick, the political affiliation of the pet owner, the exact breed of the animal, whether a third party stood to profit from the scandal, and so on.
By the time the government finally untangled the red tape, balanced the competing factions, and prepared to actually fix the problem, election season would arrive.
At that point, the ruling administration would realize they had accomplished absolutely nothing during their term except playing the role of a glorified peacemaker.
Once they lost the election, the entire cabinet would be purged, and the miserable cycle would begin anew.
Fortunately, Ernst did not have to worry about such complex political gridlock just yet.
His government was completely devoid of human life.
Even the brilliant civil engineering graduate currently serving as his secretary was severely underutilized.
Aside from hanging up Ernst’s heavy winter coats and running menial errands around the office, she had very little actual administrative experience.
It was the easiest paycheck in the world.
Ultimately, as long as a person could breathe and hold a pen, Ernst could put them to work.
The tragedy was that in Kjerag, finding someone capable of basic clerical filing was a monumental task.
“We have to cast our net outward.” Ernst directed his gaze toward Aurora, his tone turning deadpan and serious.
“Draft an advertisement.
Offer inflated salaries and premium benefits, and spend whatever it takes to buy front-page space in foreign newspapers.
Announce that the Kjerag government is actively seeking administrative interns.
Specify that we welcome recent university graduates to submit their resumes, promising generous compensation and the distinct possibility of securing a full-time position after a single year of service.”
Aurora nodded dutifully at first, jotting down the instructions.
She blinked her pale eyes, a look of genuine confusion settling over her soft features.
“I understand using high salaries to attract foreign talent, but Lord Ernst, why advertise for interns?
And why specifically target recent university graduates?”
Ernst fell silent.
He stared at the young Ursus woman, hesitating to unleash such a cruel reality upon her.
After all, Aurora herself had graduated from her university less than a year ago.
She was the exact demographic he was targeting.
But they were on the same side, and Ernst preferred brutal honesty with his inner circle.
“Because,” Ernst replied smoothly, “university students are incredibly easy to fool.”
“Let us be perfectly frank.
In terms of infrastructure, Kjerag cannot even compete with the rural backwaters of Victoria or Columbia.
My grand, supposedly prestigious government office does not even possess a basic Originium Heater.
The conditions are abysmal.
Ordinary, experienced professionals might be tempted by the money, but true administrative veterans will take one look at this freezing wasteland and turn around.
No matter how many digits I print on their paychecks, it is useless.”
Ernst paused, his eyes gleaming with a pure, unadulterated capitalist pragmatism as he met Aurora’s gaze.
“But university students are a completely different breed.
There is a massive pool of untapped potential among them, paired with an absolute lack of real-world social experience.
Combine that with the suffocating, cutthroat employment markets in their home countries, and their desperation is immense.
With a little silver-tongued persuasion and the dangling carrot of a massive salary, they will march into this frozen tundra convinced that suffering builds character.”
Aurora stared at Ernst.
Slowly, she lowered her gaze, attempting to look at her own boots, though her impressive chest completely blocked the view.
She stood frozen in the center of the room, her expression entirely blank, as if her entire worldview had just been shattered by a sledgehammer.
After a long, heavy silence, she looked back up, her face a complicated mask of betrayal and realization.
“Then…
as they suffer through the work, will they not realize they have been tricked?
You promised them a full-time position after a year.
What happens when they inevitably quit after that year is up?”
Ernst coughed, awkwardly turning his head to stare out the frosted window.
He kept his voice to a shameless whisper.
“University students yield a fresh harvest every single year.”
They were like crops in a field.
Once the current batch was worked to the bone and harvested, a brand new generation of desperate graduates would sprout up to replace them.
As long as the global economy remained a ruthless meat grinder, the supply of gullible youth would never run dry.
The moment the words left Ernst’s mouth, the office plunged into a suffocating, awkward silence.
The heavy, quiet tension stretched on until Ernst could no longer endure the guilt.
He broke the deadlock, waving his hands defensively.
“Do not worry, Aurora.
You are a special case.
You are the very first university student from Kjerag to actually graduate and return!
My brother is merely an undergraduate, and he only studied business.
You are a genuine, highly educated technical talent with a brilliant, shining future ahead of you!”
Aurora pursed her lips.
She blinked her large, expressive eyes, staring intently at the young lord.
“Lord Ernst…
you did not treat me like one of those disposable crops when you hired me, did you?”
Ernst puffed out his chest, denying the accusation with absolute righteous indignation.
“Nonsense!
How could I ever treat my own precious people like disposable labor!”
Aurora did not say another word.
She simply stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and opened her arms.
Ernst hesitated for a fraction of a second.
Then, gritting his teeth, he stepped into her embrace and gave the Ursus girl a deep, reassuring hug.
The moment his arms wrapped around her, Aurora squeezed.
She hugged him with such terrifying, bone-crushing Ursus strength that Ernst felt his ribs groaning, as if he were on the receiving end of aggressive cardiopulmonary resuscitation.
‘Was this workplace harassment?
And directed at a superior, no less!”For the future of Kjerag, I have sacrificed far too much,’ Ernst thought dramatically.
He closed his eyes, surrendering to the crushing embrace, silently absorbing the incredible, intoxicating heat enveloping him from all sides in the freezing office.
After what felt like an eternity, Aurora finally relaxed her grip.
She stepped back, the bright, warm smile returning to her face as she offered Ernst a polite, graceful bow.
“Then I will go draft the recruitment advertisements right away!”
Ernst nodded, maintaining a strained but affectionate smile as he watched the Ursus girl’s retreating back.
The moment the heavy oak door clicked shut behind her, he shivered violently, his teeth chattering in the frigid air.
Deprived of her overwhelming body heat, the office suddenly felt like an icebox.
Out of his six hundred million in operational funding, he decided he was definitely buying an Originium Heater first.
[Rhodes’s Note:
Enjoying the operation so far, Doctor?
(This daily grind literally pays the landship’s rent!
to use the links!)