Published: January 4, 2026
As we entered the official residence, Zoe looked around at the interior and said,
“This mansion survived the earthquake, didn’t it?”
“Yes. It was the official residence used by the previous governor. Even here in Larak, the provincial capital, many houses collapsed, but this mansion reportedly didn’t budge at all.”
“They must have invested a great deal of money into it.”
“Money spent on making the building sturdy isn’t much of a problem. If the governor himself were crushed under collapsing debris during an emergency, the chaos would only have worsened.”
“You’re absolutely right.”
Nobles, and high-ranking officials of equivalent status, have many responsibilities.
One of these is to maintain their own safety and keep themselves in a condition to command and take responsibility until the very end.
This situation is a perfect example.
If the governor had been crushed the moment the earthquake struck, the confusion would have increased and the damage would have been even greater.
In that sense, investing money to make the residence safe to live in is not a bad thing—in fact, it is essential.
“It requires a willingness to work yourself to the bone in emergencies, but at the same time, you must maintain a perfect condition until such a time comes. By the way, how much bribe money do you usually receive?”
“Huh?”
“You don’t embezzle, right? But there must be people who send you bribes.”
“Yes, there are.”
Zoe answered without hesitation.
“But I refuse every single one of them. I do not accept any bribes.”
“Why not?”
“Why not?”
Zoe uttered the question in a strangely surprised voice.
It was an instant reaction, a reflex, like a hand clap in Go terms.
It must have been a very unexpected question.
Though the word “why” was the same, the meaning behind mine and Zoe’s was completely different, and the feelings and nuances were poles apart.
While I was asking why she didn’t accept bribes, Zoe was half amazed, wondering why I would ask “why” repeatedly.
She had served me for a long time, so there was no fear in her response, but her confusion born from long years of service was clearly evident.
“I want to know the reasoning—the logic behind not accepting bribes.”
With those words, Zoe reconsidered her answer carefully.
When asked to verbalize the logic behind something we normally take for granted, most people are at a loss.
This happens more often than you think.
For example, if you ask commoners why they work, a straightforward answer comes back: “Because if I don’t work, I can’t eat.” But if you ask why they start a family and have children, many get stuck or give varied, sometimes forced, answers.
It’s the same kind of thing Zoe was struggling to articulate now.
After a moment, with a hint of lingering hesitation in her voice, Zoe answered.
“Because my master does not wish it. Also, it would tarnish my master’s name.”
“I see. So as long as I give permission, it wouldn’t be a problem?”
“Yes. In this case, it’s also part of some conspiracy.”
“Hmm.”
“Anyway, I believe the fundamental rule is not to tarnish my master’s name.”
At that moment, as if her thoughts solidified, the hesitation vanished from Zoe’s tone.
I slightly lowered my chin.
“So that means you don’t receive any extra income at all, right?”
“…Yes.”
“Hmm. But if that’s the case... compared to others holding the same rank, wouldn’t your income look quite poor?”
“That’s true. But my salary is enough to live on, and considering I work for my master, it’s not an issue.”
“I see…”
I stopped walking.
Standing in front of a large window, I gazed out over the garden.
“Master?”
“What about the total income of those under you—not just their salaries?”
“That is…”
“Aren’t they somewhat considerate toward you, either not taking bribes or keeping them minimal, if you are the kind of person who wouldn’t want it?”
“...Probably.”
“Those people don’t adore me the way you do. No, they don’t worship us like you do.”