Chapter 18

While I was still dumbfounded, Ernst was looking at me.

His eyes, brimming with expectation, seemed to say, "My capable subordinate has done it again!"—a sentiment that only amplified my discomfort.

"How did you manage to win over that silent bookworm? Share the secret with me; our interrogators could use the advice," Ernst said.

Warrant Officer Wendelin also smiled as he looked at me.

I could understand their curiosity. Since I had turned off the microphone during yesterday's interrogation, no one had been able to hear what was said.

As interrogators, they must have been keen to know how I managed to make a tight-lipped prisoner open up.

But no matter how I thought about it, all I did was have a casual conversation with Reginald. There was no interrogation technique involved, so I was at a loss for how to answer such questions.

As I struggled to find the right words, Wendelin chimed in with a cheerful voice, as if trying to lighten the mood.

"I've seen many interrogation styles in my career, but Captain Daniel Steiner's approach was a first—a lightning-quick resolution."

"Oh, really?"

"Absolutely. After the captain left the room, Reginald, that bastard, was practically sobbing, saying he'd cooperate with the Empire. It was so satisfying!"

He almost cried? Reginald, who had seemed so unyielding?

"Typically, interrogators resort to shouting or violence, but Captain Steiner stayed calm, smiling softly the whole time. It was almost dignified!"

Wendelin—he's great, but he really lays it on thick sometimes.

His exaggeration was so over-the-top that I wanted to stop him, but Ernst seemed to take it at face value.

Now, Ernst was looking at me with even greater anticipation than before.

"Hearing the warrant officer's account only makes me more curious. What exactly did you talk about with Reginald?"

He had asked twice now. Staying silent any longer would be a dereliction of duty.

Left with no choice, I hesitated briefly before replying.

"It was nothing much. We just talked a bit about Reginald's family."

At the mention of family, both Wendelin and Ernst flinched.

Even a few officers who had been surreptitiously eavesdropping turned to look at me.

A strange silence settled over the room.

I was bewildered by the shift in atmosphere when Ernst broke the silence with a cough and nodded.

"It's certainly the most effective method. Did you hear that, Warrant Officer? Learn from Captain Daniel."

"Ah, of course! I suppose I've been too soft on prisoners until now."

...It felt like they were misunderstanding something entirely.

The situation felt odd, but I decided against trying to clarify.

In my experience, attempting to explain myself in these moments only led to even greater misunderstandings.

Instead, I just nodded. Wendelin snapped off a sharp salute, his posture noticeably more rigid than when I first met him.

"Well then, I'll return to the military police! Enjoy your meal!"

"Will do. Thanks for coming all the way to the General Staff Office," Ernst replied.

With that, Wendelin pivoted sharply and marched off like a toy soldier.

I wondered at his behavior, but Ernst picked up his utensils and said,

"Anyway, congratulations. Getting Reginald to talk is another feather in your cap. Honestly, your competence lately has been astonishing. At your age, I struggled just to handle the tasks given to me."

As much as I wanted to say that this so-called accomplishment was entirely out of my control, voicing such an opinion to the Chief of Operations would surely invite disaster.

"You're too kind."

So, I responded modestly and picked up my utensils.

As I sliced into the steak served for lunch, Ernst seemed to remember something and said,

"Oh, by the way, your adjutant will be reporting to the General Staff Office today. They might have already arrived."

"…Adjutant, sir?"

"Yes. Didn't I tell you before? Once you became a full-fledged operations officer, you'd be assigned an adjutant. Apparently, the higher-ups went out of their way to assign you someone of matching caliber—an elite."

Dazed, I blinked in confusion.

"You've been working a lot of overtime lately, haven't you? It's natural for an operations officer to be busy during wartime, but with an adjutant, your workload should ease up."

"That does seem likely," I agreed.

"This will be your first subordinate under your direct command, right? Make sure to guide them well."

"Understood."

I replied calmly to Ernst, but inwardly, I was elated, as if floating on air.

Finally, I have an adjutant!

No, let me correct that. "Finally" might not be the right word, given my unusually rapid promotions.

But the details didn't matter—what mattered was that I had an adjutant now.

And not just any adjutant—an elite handpicked by the higher-ups! No more drowning in paperwork!

Since I had been promoted from acting to full operations officer, I had discovered that the job involved an overwhelming amount of work.

As the lowest-ranking staff officer, I was tasked with reviewing and forwarding endless reports and approval requests, most of which came from every conceivable source.

Sure, the most critical reports went directly to higher-ups, but in wartime, bizarre requests and reports popped up far more frequently than expected.

Take, for example, the regimental commander who requested that beer be airlifted to his troops so they could enjoy it cold.

Skeptical, I forwarded the request without holding it up, and to my surprise, it was approved. I even got to witness fighter planes transporting barrels of beer.

With countless requests like these pouring in, I was perpetually short on time. Days when I managed to leave work on time, like yesterday, were rare strokes of luck.

If this continued, I might die of overwork before I even had the chance to escape the Empire. So, Ernst's announcement about the adjutant was nothing short of a godsend.

As I pondered over my future adjutant, Ernst, who had finished eating, dabbed at his mouth with a napkin.

"Ah, one more thing. Spend your afternoon not in the operations office but in your private quarters."

"…Is that permissible?"

"Of course. You'll need some time to get acquainted with your new adjutant. Casual conversations in the operations office might attract attention, after all."

Ernst's reasoning was impeccable. I responded with a faint smile to show my agreement.

"Thank you for your consideration, Chief of Operations."

While the operations office wasn't a battlefield, my adjutant and I would still need to build rapport and trust.

After finishing my meal with Ernst, I decided to wander outside the headquarters instead of heading straight to my quarters.

I was on a mission—to buy a gift for my new subordinate.

After some deliberation, I opted for a bag of pastries from a nearby bakery instead of a bouquet of flowers.

Flowers were impractical, after all, while pastries could at least fill a stomach.

Returning to the private office with the pastry bag, I took a deep breath to steady my nerves.

A little nervous, I admitted.

Surely, the adjutant waiting inside would feel just as tense. After all, just five months ago, I was in their shoes, anxiously awaiting my superior.

I could still vividly recall my own first day, when instead of receiving a gift, I was greeted with a string of curses from Karl Heinrich, that bastard.

Determined not to repeat such a traumatizing experience, I resolved to treat my subordinate with kindness.

Even the tasks I assigned would start simple and manageable to help them ease into the role.

Alright.

With the mindset of a good senior officer, I opened the office door with a smile.

"Did I keep you waiting? I stopped by a bakery near headquarters to pick up some pastries for us to share…."

I froze mid-sentence as I caught sight of my adjutant.

Her hair was a sleek, silver-white, styled into a slightly tousled bob that fell just past her neck.

Her striking crimson eyes, reminiscent of blood, stood out against her porcelain complexion.

Though her gaze was sharp, it wasn't hostile—just her natural expression.

She was undeniably elegant and poised.

If I didn't already know who she was, I might have thought so, too.

Lucy Emilia.

The protagonist-like figure of the game Empire of Emperor, infamous as the Empire's Nightmare—a ruthless executioner.

And here she was, sitting in my office, impeccably dressed in an Imperial Army uniform.

"…"

"…"

After a moment of stunned silence, I quietly shut the door.

Hold on.

Why was Lucy here? At this point in time, she should be busy fighting on the frontlines.

And why, of all places, was she assigned as my adjutant?

…A spy?

Both the Allies and the Empire were active in espionage, so it wasn't entirely out of the question that she might have infiltrated the General Staff Office.

But why?

Why of all positions was she assigned to me as my adjutant?

Utterly baffled, I furrowed my brow and shook my head.

I need to think carefully.

She must have picked up on my reaction. Lucy, looking both puzzled and concerned, tilted her head slightly.

"Captain Daniel Steiner?"

…How strange. I wasn't nervous until just now, but my heart was racing uncontrollably.