FERH 18

Chapter 18

Turning a blind eye was something that happened openly in any department, but it was also the kind of thing you could never write on an official document.

‘Upper management said to just cover it up, but the newbie insisted that any reasonable instruction should be put into an official memo. Isn’t that why the higher-ups got annoyed with her? That’s how she ended up getting tossed into our department.’

She’s seriously impressive. Our newbie.

Whether Wilbrin was drunk on his own delusions or not…

Lianel continued speaking.

“If my biological father truly committed tax evasion, he must receive the appropriate punishment.”

“Why? Because it’s the morally right thing to do?”

“It is the only way to properly restore the family’s honor, and in the long run, it will bring respect to my father as well.”

Til looked at her with an expression like he was being forced to listen to a moral ethics textbook read out loud in front of him.

“…Wow. Is this that ‘fire-attribute filial daughter’ that’s supposed to be trending lately?”

Wilbrin immediately objected.

“What are you talking about?! Our newbie just knows how to separate public and private matters!”

Having declared himself practically one body with Lianel, Wilbrin reacted instantly to Til’s slander.

Mel, stuck between them, let out an awkward laugh.

It was true that Lianel was unusual—someone hard to understand.

“She is impressive. Not everyone can do that.”

On that point, Mel agreed with Wilbrin.

“Right? Right?”

Wilbrin celebrated as if he were the one being praised.

Til shook his head with a laugh.

“Well, since that’s cleared up, let’s get back to work.”

The deadline was right around the corner.

* * *

Mel glanced sideways multiple times a day.

The reason was simple.

Even when Lianel worked, she worked way too hard.

Some people put in the same hours but drift through the day as if their soul is elsewhere. Others fill every moment with intense focus.

‘Our newbie is definitely the latter.’

Mel tried not to pay attention, but their desks were right next to each other—how could she not notice?

It didn’t even look like Lianel was trying that hard.

She just flicked through the paperwork like nothing.

Mel would look away for a second, then look back—and the task was done. She’d go to the break room and return—and everything would be completed.

It was like watching a monster who lived 48 hours while everyone else lived 24.

Humans naturally feel awe when witnessing abilities beyond their reach.

Unable to hold back, Mel asked:

“How can you concentrate that well?”

“Decide that you will complete your tasks within working hours.”

“Well, I—I always intend to, but it doesn’t really work out that way….”

“But consider this. If you finish your tasks within working hours, you don’t need to work overtime, nor bring your work home. Then you can wake up the next morning well-rested, and work efficiently the next day as well. Isn’t that better?”

“…Oh, do you think I didn’t know that?”

“I do not listen to complaints from people who have enough free time to chat.”

Is she serious right now?

Mel felt her chest tighten.

She had asked for advice on “how not to procrastinate,” and the answer she got was “just don’t procrastinate.”

But it seemed that simple, brute-force method actually worked for Lianel. She consistently left work on time every day.

And at some point, Mel, too, began to mimic her—cutting down on distractions.

She stopped wandering to the break room whenever her mouth felt lonely, and she stopped roaming the building under the excuse of fetching something from the archives.

As a result…

Mel discovered that even when pushed to the brink, humans eventually adapt and endure.

“So the saying about squeezing water out of a dried squid was actually true…?”

A realization she wasn’t happy about.

And before long, it was 6 p.m.

As the clock struck the hour, people in the Taxation Bureau stretched or grabbed their things, bustling as they prepared to leave.

“Newbie, you’re heading out too, right?”

“Yes.”

Only two days remained until the report deadline.

But they firmly believed they would go home on time today as well.

After all—this was Lianel’s Taxation Bureau!

“Alright, good work today—”

That was when it happened.

“Something terrible happened!”

The office doors burst open as Til ran inside.

He had rushed so hard his shoulders rose and fell with every breath, and cold sweat beaded along his forehead.

“New orders from upper management. They want each department’s list of tax evaders, with supporting evidence attached.”

Instantly, all eyes turned to one person.

Lianel.

They could go home every day because she carefully calculated the workload and allocated it evenly.

But even she could not have predicted a curveball like this.

“It’s fine,” Lianel said.

“It is natural to attach evidence to a report. I have already prepared for that much.”

But Til’s next words hit like a blow to the back of the head.

“That’s not all.”

A bead of sweat slipped down Til’s forehead.

“This time, they want us to include delinquent taxpayers as well as tax evaders.”

Even Lianel—who could stay calm in nearly any situation—couldn’t maintain her composure this time.

Thunk.

With a dry sound, her bag slipped from her hand.

* * *

A normal person would have cried out to the heavens, “Why must I suffer alone?!”

Another might not even have the energy for that, sinking helplessly into a chair.

Someone else might laugh in disbelief or mutter in awe at the absurdity of it all.

But Lianel…

‘Just moments ago she looked like someone who died standing up.’

Yet in a crisis, she was part of that rare minority who immediately searched for solutions.

As if she had never despaired, she set her bag down beside the desk and was already working.

The stack of files beside her desk rose like a towering column, swaying dangerously as if ready to collapse.

Upper management—meaning the Empress Dowager—had probably thought it simple.

‘She probably figured that if she was already cracking down on government discipline, she might as well clean out the tax delinquents too.’

Since both delinquency and evasion were “tax problems,” she must have thought they were easy to group together.

‘If it were that simple, would we be working overtime?!’

Til seethed internally.

Tax evasion meant hiding taxes.

You had to scour the records to find hidden assets and uncover evidence of loophole abuse.

Delinquency, on the other hand, was relatively simple.

The tax was already established—they simply hadn’t paid.

So all you had to do was reference internal data and write the report.

Check their payment capacity, outstanding balance, and delinquency period. Straightforward.

‘Still not something you assign two days before the deadline!’

Suppressing the urge to rip his hair out, Mel sighed.

This is why pencil-pushing administrators don’t understand anything. They only want results, ignoring real working conditions!

She glanced at Lianel with pity.

She had struggled so hard to go home on time, and this was the reward.

As her senior, Mel couldn’t just sit by.

“Are you hungry? Want me to go buy some sandwiches?”

Or any late-night snack?

Hovering around awkwardly, Mel froze when her eyes met Lianel’s.

‘…A c-corpse?’

Lianel’s eyes were so unfocused it was scary.

“….”

“…Uh.”

After a brief silence, Lianel spoke.

“I am fine.”

Her voice was polite, but it sounded like a curse.

Did she just tell me to shut up…?

Mel glanced at her nervously.

She couldn’t even argue back—Lianel felt like someone who would explode if touched.

On the first day, Mel had been nervous because of rumors that Lianel was a villainess. Now, she felt like if she annoyed the busy newbie, she’d be socially executed as the scum who bullied her.

Right. Forget sandwiches, what was I thinking.

The best way to help her was to finish her own tasks quickly so she wouldn’t add to Lianel’s burden.

Mel tiptoed to avoid disturbing her.

But that goodwill only led to disaster when she failed to see a small piece of trash on the floor.

“Ack!”

Mel slipped, slammed into her own desk, and the impact carried over to Lianel’s.

The towering pile of files toppled over.

“….”

Lianel slowly lifted her head.

She didn’t say a word, but to Mel it sounded like she could hear the curses radiating from her.

Mel, sitting on the floor, frantically gathered the scattered papers.

“I’m sorry! I’ll pick them all up! Just please, not a transfer…!”

But instead of picking up the papers, Lianel looked at her with concern.

“Did you hit your head rather than your leg?”

“…!”