Chapter 53: Nation-Scale Waste Reduction
After being appointed Royal Finance Advisor, Zenon began his work the very next day.
The place he chose as his first battlefield was a massive archive located in a dimly lit corner of the royal castle.
There, every financial record since the founding of the Berstein Kingdom lay sleeping in mountains of dust-covered parchment.
“…Move all of this to my office.”
The archive keeper blinked rapidly at the outrageous order.
“A-all of it, sir!? Th-these are the royal family’s most confidential documents…”
“The royal decree granting me full authority.”
Zenon thrust the sealed letter before him, and the man’s face turned pale. He hurriedly summoned every subordinate he could find.
A few hours later, Zenon’s newly assigned spacious office was filled from floor to ceiling with mountains of ledgers.
It was exactly like when he began his reforms in the Arkwright Territory—only on an entirely different scale.
“…Well then, let’s begin.”
Muttering to no one, Zenon shut the door tightly and locked it.
Then, just as he had done that day years ago, he plunged into the sea of information with a speed normal people could never comprehend.
Only the sound of pages flipping echoed through the quiet room.
One day passed.
Two days passed.
Zenon didn’t step out of the room even once.
He only ate the meals Gray left outside his door.
He barely slept.
His young body, combined with the superhuman focus honed in his previous life, made it possible.
Before him, an enormous sheet of parchment lay spread out, filled with a complex diagram representing the kingdom’s entire financial structure—income, expenditures, taxes, pensions for nobles, military spending, even the royal family’s private wastefulness.
Every flow of money was visualized.
And what emerged was a level of negligence and inefficiency that far surpassed Zenon’s worst expectations.
On the morning of the third day, Zenon finished reading every ledger and quietly set down his pen.
In his blue eyes was neither anger nor astonishment—only absolute emptiness.
“…It’s rotten.”
That single word slipped out.
Compared to this, the corruption he’d seen in the Arkwright Territory was adorable.
The kingdom was rotten to its core.
That afternoon, an emergency audience was convened with the king present.
Those summoned included the chancellor, the finance minister, and other central figures of the kingdom’s leadership.
They waited uneasily, unsure what the young advisor—who had locked himself away for three days—was about to unleash.
Zenon entered the chamber with Gray, who was carrying a massive blackboard covered with a cloth.
“Thank you all for gathering.”
Without any formal greeting, Zenon dove straight into the main topic.
“In these three days, I have analyzed the entirety of our kingdom’s finances over the past decade. I have identified several severe problems, which I will now report.”
Several elderly nobles frowned at his overly authoritative tone.
Ignoring them, Zenon removed the cloth.
What appeared beneath was a giant pie chart— the same method he had once used at the Arkwright family meeting, though vastly larger and more damning.
“This is the breakdown of Berstein Kingdom’s annual expenditures.”
Zenon pointed to the largest section of the chart: ‘Various Payments to Nobles’—a staggering sixty percent of total spending.
“Here is that sixty percent in detail.”
One by one, Zenon laid out the shocking findings.
“First, the excessive pension system for nobles. Regardless of merit, all high nobles receive guaranteed lifelong support—this alone consumes thirty percent of the national budget.
It is the height of irrationality: those who do not work are fed the most.”
“Next, subsidies with no clear purpose. Certain nobles with ties to the royal family receive enormous yearly subsidies for their failing businesses. This is nothing but the privatization of tax revenue.”
“And the most malicious—the fraudulent misuse of military funds. Costs for equipment and expeditions have been inflated several times over, and the excess money lines the pockets of certain military nobles.”
The audience chamber grew pale.
Most of the nobles present were directly involved in these schemes.
No one had imagined that this teenager would uncover everything in just three days.
“To conclude,”
Zenon declared into the silent hall,
“The kingdom’s finances are in critical condition. Most of its revenue is being consumed by parasites calling themselves nobles. At this rate, the kingdom will face financial collapse—essentially ruin—within ten years.”
Even the king audibly inhaled.
“Therefore, as Finance Advisor, I will implement the following reforms.”
Zenon spoke in a tone that allowed no disagreement.
“First: Abolish the noble pension system entirely. Replace it with a merit-based retirement system. Second: Freeze all subsidies. I will personally evaluate each project’s viability and cost-effectiveness. Third: Reduce military expenditures by thirty percent. All military spending will be placed under my audit, and all fraud eliminated.”
This was no longer reform.
It was revolution— a declaration that threatened the very foundation of the noble class itself.
The chamber erupted in outrage.
“R-ridiculous!”
“This is rebellion against the nobility!”
“Your Majesty! Will you permit such madness!?”
But the king said nothing.
He simply watched from the throne, weighing the brutal reality Zenon had exposed and the extreme remedy he proposed.
He understood.
This medicine was lethal— but without it, the kingdom would certainly die.
“…Silence.”
The king’s calm command immediately crushed all shouting.
He rose slowly, then declared to all citizens of the kingdom:
“…I hereby grant full approval to the proposal of Royal Finance Advisor Zenon von Arkwright.
From this moment, all authority over the kingdom’s finances is entrusted to him.”
It was the historic moment when the Berstein Kingdom severed its ties to the old era and stepped into an unknown new one.
And the one holding the helm of that enormous vessel was—a lone boy who trusted in nothing but his own rationality, receiving no blessings from anyone.