The downstairs office was filled with receipts, mission records, and coin pouches separated by purpose.
Lyra’s documentation was considerably more organized than Lelouch had expected.
Unfortunately—
The numbers were worse than the equipment suggested.
Primary income came from magic stones, Dungeon materials, criminal bounties, and donations.
Expenses included food.
Medicine.
Weapon maintenance.
Manor repairs.
Disaster relief.
And patrol operations where the Guild provided information but issued no formal contract.
For the past three months—
Expenses had exceeded income every single month.
Reserves were steadily disappearing.
Lelouch ran one finger down the figures.
The calculations came almost automatically.
“At this rate, you will fall below the minimum recovery-medicine reserve within six weeks.”
Alice’s expression changed.
“That soon?”
“Assuming no major equipment is destroyed.”
“No member suffers a serious injury.”
“And no other emergency occurs.”
Lelouch glanced toward the repaired wall outside.
“If another battle causes damage comparable to the explosion marks on the manor, your reserves could disappear in less than half a month.”
Lyra dropped into a chair.
“I tried telling Lady Astraea.”
She sighed.
“But whenever someone asks for help, none of us can refuse.”
“I’m not criticizing you for helping people.”
“You certainly look like you want to tear the account book apart,” Alice said.
“I want to tear apart the arrangement that forces all of you to finance those responsibilities yourselves.”
Lelouch closed the ledger.
“The Guild sends information about dangerous districts.”
“The Astraea Familia patrols them.”
“You arrest criminals.”
“Treat the injured.”
“And absorb the expenses yourselves.”
His gaze sharpened.
“Meanwhile, the city receives improved security while bearing almost none of the cost.”
“The Guild doesn’t force us,” Alice said.
“We choose to go.”
“That makes the arrangement worse.”
She paused.
“Because they know that even if they refuse to pay, you will not abandon civilians.”
Lelouch tapped the ledger.
“Your kindness has become free labor.”
Lyra raised one hand slightly.
“As the person managing the accounts, I agree with that extremely strongly.”
“Then why haven’t you negotiated with the Guild?”
“We tried.”
Lyra leaned back.
“They pay bounties when an official warrant exists.”
“But general patrols, disaster relief, and preventing crimes before they happen aren’t covered.”
She shrugged.
“The officials say the Familia chooses to do those things voluntarily.”
“In other words, they have no incentive to reform the system because they continue receiving the same benefit without paying for it.”
Lelouch stood.
“Where is Goddess Astraea?”
“Her office.”
Alice studied his expression.
“What are you planning?”
“To request permission to solve the problem.”
“How?”
Lelouch answered without hesitation.
“Negotiation.”
Lyra looked skeptical.
“Guild officials won’t give in easily.”
“If they did, this problem would already be solved.”
Lelouch left the accounting room and climbed the stairs.
Every muscle in his body still ached from training.
Yet his posture had become noticeably steadier.
This—
Was familiar territory.
Numbers.
Interests.
Leverage.
And an organization convinced that it could indefinitely transfer costs onto someone else.
When Alice knocked, Astraea’s voice came from inside.
“Come in.”
The goddess sat beside her desk, repairing the strap of one member’s armor.
A fresh stack of petitions lay before her.
When she saw Lelouch, Alice, and Lyra enter together, she set the tools aside.
“Finished training?”
“Yes.”
Lelouch entered.
“And I have just reviewed the Familia’s accounts.”
Astraea looked toward Lyra.
The Prum immediately raised both hands.
“He asked!
And he read everything so fast I didn’t have a chance to stop him.”
“I’m a member of this Familia, even provisionally.”
Lelouch looked toward Astraea.
“A problem threatening everyone’s operational safety concerns me as well.”
“How serious do you believe the situation is?”
“Without additional revenue, you will fall below minimum recovery-medicine reserves in six weeks.”
He continued.
“If a major emergency occurs, that may shrink to less than half a month.”
Astraea did not look surprised.
She already knew.
“We can increase the number of days we enter the Dungeon,” she said.
“And reduce patrol days?”
“We can restructure the schedule.”
“In other words, members will enter the Dungeon to earn money, then patrol without adequate recovery.”
“Everyone is willing.”
“Willingness does not eliminate fatigue.”
Lelouch’s voice grew colder.
“Nor does it repair damaged equipment.”
He looked directly at the goddess of justice.
“Protecting justice is admirable.”
“But dying for it because you refuse to manage resources properly is foolish.”
Alice and Lyra went still.
Not many people would casually use the word foolish while speaking directly to the goddess of justice.
Astraea did not become angry.
“If no one is willing to risk death for justice, who can the weak rely upon?”
“I’m not telling you to stop taking risks.”
Lelouch answered immediately.
“I’m telling you not to create additional ones without necessity.”
His eyes hardened.
“Someone who dies today cannot protect anyone tomorrow.”
The sentence left him with absolute conviction.
And yet—
Something deep inside his chest hurt.
He himself had once chosen death for something.
His memories were gone. Get faster updates on g.com.
But his body remembered cold steel.
The sound of someone crying.
He did not regret that choice.
That did not mean everyone else should be made to follow the same path.
“Sacrifice may have meaning when no alternative remains,” Lelouch said.
“But when a method exists to preserve the lives of those doing the saving, and you reject it merely because discussing money makes justice feel less pure…”
His tone sharpened.
“That is not courage.”
“It is an obsession with sacrifice.”
Silence filled the room.
Astraea watched him carefully.
“You want us to charge the people who ask for help?”
“No.”
The answer came at once.
“The poor should not have to choose between safety and food.”
Lelouch placed the ledger on the table.
“I’m not proposing that justice be sold only to those who can afford it.”
His fingers rested on the cover.
“I’m proposing that we charge the institutions whose responsibility is to maintain the city—and which are already benefiting from your work.”
“The Guild?” Alice asked.
“The Guild and Orario’s administration.”
Lelouch opened the mission records.
“How many high-risk-area patrols has the Astraea Familia conducted in the past three months?”
Lyra thought briefly.
“One hundred and seventeen.”
“Arrests?”
“Sixty-three.”
She opened another ledger.
“Seventy-eight if we include criminals transferred to other Familias.”
“People assisted after injury?”
“We didn’t record every individual.”
“But at least two hundred.”
“Major violent incidents prevented before widespread damage occurred?”
“Nineteen.”
Lelouch looked back toward Astraea.
“Those numbers represent value received by the city that has never been priced.”
He began counting the implications.
“If the Astraea Familia stopped patrolling, how many personnel would the Guild need to hire as replacements?”
“How much additional medical expenditure would follow?”
“How much revenue would merchants lose if crime increased?”
Alice frowned.
“We would never stop helping people just to force the Guild to pay.”
“I’m not suggesting that.”
“Then where does the leverage come from?” Lyra asked.
A faint smile appeared on Lelouch’s face.
It was the smile of someone who had just seen the entire board—
And had already begun calculating the route to victory.
“We do not need to abandon civilians.”
His eyes narrowed.
“We merely need to make the Guild understand that refusing an agreement will create greater political, economic, and reputational costs than accepting one.”
Alice blinked.
“How?”
“Prepare a formal report.”
Lelouch began listing the steps.
“Document every operation.”
“Calculate the number of Guild personnel your Familia has effectively replaced.”
“And submit a proposal for a public-service agreement.”
He continued.
“A fixed monthly subsidy for patrols.”
“Reimbursement for medicine and equipment used during approved public-security operations.”
“Hazard compensation for high-risk districts.”
“And a medical fund for members injured while performing those duties.”
“The Guild will say it doesn’t have the budget,” Lyra said.
“Then we propose contributions from merchants and Familias that benefit from the arrangement, administered through the Guild.”
Lelouch looked toward the documents.
“In return, they receive transparent security reports and protected-route information.”
His expression cooled.
“Not protection money like criminals extort.”
“A contract that can be audited.”
“And if they still refuse?” Astraea asked.
“We make the numbers public.”
Alice raised an eyebrow.
“Attack the Guild?”
“No.”
Lelouch shook his head.
“We attack no individual.”
“We simply ask why one Familia is expected to privately finance work that protects the entire city.”
Lyra began to smile.
“Merchants don’t like discovering that their fees are being managed inefficiently.”
“And the Guild does not like being questioned in front of merchants.”
Lelouch returned her smile faintly.
“We require no threats.”
“We simply ensure that every relevant party understands which outcome best serves their own interests.”
Alice stared at him.
Only moments earlier, he had been the exhausted young man running at the back of the group.
Now—
He seemed like an entirely different person.
“You came up with all of that in less than fifteen minutes?”
“The structure is simple.”
Lelouch leaned back slightly.
“The beneficiary is not the one paying the cost.”
“Therefore the beneficiary has no incentive to economize or reform.”
His eyes sharpened.
“We reconnect benefit with cost.”
Astraea folded her hands on the table.
“My concern is that once justice becomes governed by contracts and compensation, we may begin choosing only work that produces revenue.”
“Then the agreement must never dictate whom you help.”
Lelouch met her gaze.
“It should dictate only that the city supports your ability to continue helping.”
His voice softened slightly.
“We are not selling justice.”
“We are ensuring that the people protecting it still have food, medicine, and weapons tomorrow.”
Astraea remained silent for a long moment.
“Are you certain you can do this?”
“No.”
Alice nearly stumbled.
“Wait!
A moment ago you sounded like you had everything figured out!”
“I’m confident the approach is correct.”
Lelouch looked at her calmly.
“I do not yet know which Guild officials possess budget authority, how their funds are structured, or what political relationships exist between the Guild and the major Familias.”
He shook his head.
“Guaranteeing victory before obtaining that information would be reckless.”
“Then what do you need?” Lyra asked.
“Access to all mission records.”
“One assistant familiar with the finances.”
“And a representative authorized to speak for the Familia.”
Every gaze shifted toward Alice.
She pointed to herself.
“Me?”
“You are the captain.”
“If the Guild refuses, Kaguya may draw her sword sooner than I would prefer.”
A voice immediately came from outside the door.
“I heard that.”
Kaguya stood in the corridor with her arms folded.
Ryu was beside her.
Apparently, both had returned at some unknown point and begun listening.
“And I admit your assessment is reasonable.”
Alice stared.
“Kaguya agreed that easily?!”
“If you were the negotiator, at minimum someone would need to stop you from leaping across the table and shaking the official’s hand before the discussion ended.”
“Handshakes are friendly!”
“That depends on how hard you squeeze,” Ryu said evenly.
Astraea raised one hand before the argument could continue.
“I’ll allow you to try, Lelouch.”
He turned toward her.
“You may negotiate with the Guild on behalf of the Astraea Familia.”
“Alice will serve as the Familia’s representative.”
“Lyra will provide the financial data and operational records.”
“Thank you.”
“But I have conditions.”
“Of course.”
“Do not use Geass.”
Astraea’s voice became firm.
“No matter how difficult the negotiation becomes.”
“I was not planning to use mind control on Guild officials over a budget dispute.”
“Do not threaten anyone with fabricated information.”
“I will use only facts that make them feel threatened on their own.”
Astraea released a quiet sigh.
“And try not to make anyone cry.”
“I can guarantee the first two.”
Lelouch paused.
“The final condition depends upon the other party’s emotional resilience.”
Alice burst out laughing.
“I’m starting to feel sorry for whoever has to negotiate with you.”
“You should feel sorry for the members currently wearing armor close to structural failure.”
Her smile faded.
Lelouch looked around the room.
“Every one of you is many times stronger than I am.”
His voice became steady.
“You can fight enemies I would not even be capable of escaping.”
“But that strength should not become an excuse for the city to place every burden on you.”
There was authority in his voice—
Nothing to do with Falna.
Nothing to do with Geass.
“If the Astraea Familia intends to continue standing for justice…”
His violet eyes hardened.
“Then you need to survive long enough to see that justice accomplish something.”
Astraea watched him with a gentle smile.
“Then I’m entrusting this to you, Lelouch.”
He bowed his head.
“I’ll make the Guild understand one thing.”
The corner of his mouth rose.
“Justice may be given to the people without charge.”
“But that does not mean the administrators of the city receive it for free.”
Lyra burst out laughing.
Kaguya’s mouth curved in approval.
Ryu looked at Lelouch with a little more trust than before.
Alice walked over and slapped him on the shoulder.
“Rest first!
This afternoon, we’re going to the Guild!”
Pain shot through his abused muscles.
Lelouch nearly lost his balance.
“Please…
control your strength.”
“Sorry!
I forgot you’re still fragile.”
“That did not need to be announced in front of everyone.”
“Don’t worry,” Lyra added.
“Everyone saw you running.”
Lelouch sent her a cold look.
The Prum smiled back.
He turned toward the window.
The Tower of Babel rose over the center of Orario.
Near its base stood the Guild headquarters—
The organization that controlled the flow of money, information, and adventurers throughout the city.
The others might have seen an administrative building.
Lelouch saw something else.
A board.
The Guild officials were the opposing pieces.
The Astraea Familia’s reputation was military strength.
Its mission records were weapons.
And Orario’s security—
Was something the opposing side could not afford to lose.
His first battlefield in this world would not be inside the Dungeon.
It was waiting across a negotiating table.
Lelouch remained by the window for a while.
The Dungeon waited beneath Babel.
Monsters filled its endless depths.
Adventurers risked their lives there every day.
By every conventional definition—
That labyrinth should have been the most obvious battlefield in Orario.
But not for him.
His swordsmanship was almost nonexistent.
His physical strength was pathetic.
His new Magic could barely produce one complicated weapon without draining him.
And his most dangerous ability was one he had already decided not to rely upon casually.
Yet not every battle required muscle.
Some were decided by information.
By incentives.
By pressure.
By knowing exactly what the other side could not afford to lose.
Those rules felt familiar.
Comfortingly so.
For the first time since awakening in this world, Lelouch felt as though he had stepped onto terrain his body did not reject and his mind understood instinctively.
A negotiation room.
A balance of power.
Limited resources.
Multiple parties with conflicting interests.
An opponent who believed the existing arrangement favored them too heavily to be challenged.
This—
He could work with.
Lelouch’s eyes narrowed at the distant Guild headquarters.
A faint smile appeared.
The board had been set.
Now he only needed to determine—
Which piece would move first.
….
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….
I also have many more novels in my collection that you might be interested in I upload ten novels a day, with 3 to 4 chapters per title depending on the length.
If you’re following a particular series, please wait your turn a little If there’s a particular novel you’re enjoying on Patron, please give it a ‘like’ so I know to focus on it