The Administrative Building of Frostbound Coast stood proudly at the center of the city.
Its architecture was elegant yet practical.
White stone walls.
Dark blue banners carrying the crest of Frostbound Coast.
Large crystal windows that reflected the morning sunlight.
Unlike the ancient noble estates scattered across the Empire, the building lacked excessive luxury.
Everything about it prioritized function.
Efficiency.
Purpose.
A reflection of the Count who had created it.
Yet today...
The building resembled a battlefield.
Not because of war.
But because of disappointment.
Massive disappointment.
The first representative who had reached the building after enduring countless hardships stood frozen.
Completely frozen.
The receptionist smiled politely.
Professional.
Courteous.
Merciless.
"You are number two hundred and ninety-nine."
Silence.
The merchant stared.
Then stared harder.
Then looked toward the receptionist.
Then toward the registration board.
Then back toward the receptionist.
"...What?"
The receptionist maintained her smile.
The terrifying smile possessed only by people working in administration.
"The meeting schedules were arranged yesterday."
The merchant blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then his soul visibly departed.
Nearby officials observed the phenomenon with professional interest.
Apparently disappointment could physically leave the body.
Interesting.
The merchant slowly sat down.
"...I raced here."
"Yes."
"I was sabotaged."
"Unfortunate."
"I nearly fought three nobles."
"That sounds stressful."
"I ran through half the city."
The receptionist nodded sympathetically.
"Very impressive."
The merchant stared.
Then whispered.
"...It didn't matter?"
"No."
His soul departed for a second time.
The Arrival of Baron Cedric
Several minutes later.
The noble finally arrived.
His expensive cloak was covered in snow.
His boots carried mud.
His dignity had been damaged beyond repair.
The Baron proudly approached the desk.
"I demand to know my position."
The receptionist checked.
Then smiled.
"Two hundred and thirty-seven."
The noble froze.
"...What?"
The receptionist repeated herself.
"Two hundred and thirty-seven."
Silence.
Then realization.
Then horror.
Then something even worse.
Understanding.
The Baron slowly turned.
Behind him stood the merchant whose horses he may or may not have replaced with donkeys.
The merchant looked equally devastated.
Their eyes met.
Both men realized something.
They had spent hours sabotaging each other.
For absolutely no reason.
The silence became painful.
Eventually the merchant spoke.
"...Donkeys?"
The noble coughed.
"...Fishing nets?"
Neither continued.
Both suddenly found the floor very interesting.
The Great Realization
Within the next few hours.
More representatives arrived.
And one by one.
Their hopes died.
A merchant sprinted through the doors.
"What position am I?"
The receptionist checked.
"One hundred and eighty-two."
The merchant smiled.
Then paused.
"...Out of how many?"
The receptionist looked at another document.
"Four hundred and thirteen."
The merchant immediately reconsidered his life choices.
A scholar arrived.
"Position?"
"Three hundred and one."
"I left at midnight."
"Very admirable."
The scholar nearly cried.
A royal envoy arrived.
The receptionist smiled.
"One hundred and forty-seven."
The envoy blinked.
"I represent the Imperial Family."
The receptionist nodded.
"And?"
The envoy suddenly understood why Frostbound Coast's administration was feared.
Nobody received special treatment.
Nobody.
The Waiting Hall
Eventually.
The waiting hall became full.
Completely full.
Representatives from every corner of the Empire sat together.
Merchants.
Nobles.
Researchers.
Guild officials.
Royal envoys.
Military representatives.
Scholars.
Investors.
All trapped.
Waiting.
Several hours passed.
And gradually...
The atmosphere changed.
Because people started talking.
One merchant suddenly pointed at another.
"YOU!"
The other merchant frowned.
"What?"
"You sabotaged my carriage."
"...Maybe."
Silence.
Then another noble joined.
"Wait."
He pointed toward a scholar.
"You're the one who hired that old woman."
The scholar adjusted her glasses.
"...Possibly."
A merchant stood.
"YOU SENT ME TO A SHEEP FARM."
Another representative raised his hand.
"In my defense."
Everyone stared.
"The sheep were very nice."
The waiting hall erupted.
Laughter.
Complaints.
Arguments.
Accusations.
Within an hour.
Everyone had discovered everyone else's sabotage.
The results were glorious.
POV: Administrative Staff
Several officials watched everything unfold.
One junior administrator leaned toward his supervisor.
"Should we stop them?"
The supervisor calmly sipped tea.
"No."
"Why?"
The older official smiled.
"It's educational."
The junior administrator nodded.
Reasonable.
The Legend of Frostbound Administration
As the day progressed.
Something unexpected happened.
People became impressed.
Not by Kel.
Not yet.
By the administration.
Everything moved smoothly.
Appointments were organized.
Schedules were respected.
Reports were processed.
Visitors were managed.
No chaos.
No favoritism.
No corruption.
No delays.
A noble eventually frowned.
"This system is absurd."
A nearby administrator nodded proudly.
"It was designed by the Count."
The noble immediately stopped complaining.
That explained everything.
Another representative asked.
"What happens if someone misses their meeting?"
The administrator answered immediately.
"They are rescheduled."
"And if they arrive late?"
"They wait."
"What if they're important?"
The administrator blinked.
"Everyone thinks they're important."
The representative couldn't argue.
Far Away in the Office
Meanwhile.
The cause of everyone's suffering remained blissfully unaware.
Kel sat inside his office.
Reviewing reports.
Meeting representatives.
Signing documents.
Listening to proposals.
Calm.
Professional.
Efficient.
One merchant had just finished presenting a trade proposal.
Kel nodded.
"A reasonable offer."
The merchant nearly cried from happiness.
Not because of the contract.
Because he had finally reached the meeting.
After three days.
Three.
Entire.
Days.
The merchant almost wanted compensation.
Seiren's Observation
Far beneath Scarder Lake.
The Guardian continued observing.
Then she finally spoke.
"Your visitors have discovered schedules."
Kel looked up.
"Good."
"Several of them appear traumatized."
A pause.
"Why?"
The Guardian laughed.
"Because they spent the entire morning racing through the city."
Kel blinked.
"The appointments were scheduled yesterday."
"Exactly."
Silence.
Then another blink.
For perhaps the first time.
The young Count genuinely looked confused.
"...Why would they race?"
Seiren laughed so hard ancient waters trembled.
Because that question perfectly summarized Kel Rosenfeld.
To him.
Schedules existed to prevent chaos.
To everyone else.
Meeting Kel Rosenfeld had become more important than common sense.
The Final Realization
By evening.
The truth had fully spread.
Every representative knew.
Every noble knew.
Every merchant knew.
Every scholar knew.
Your position was decided the moment you registered.
Not when you arrived.
Not how fast you traveled.
Not how much influence you possessed.
Not how important you believed yourself to be.
Only registration mattered.
The revelation shattered many worldviews.
Several nobles quietly returned to their inns.
Embarrassed.
Several merchants questioned their sanity.
Several scholars updated their notes.
And throughout Frostbound Coast.
Citizens laughed.
Because for the first time.
People from every corner of the Empire had learned a simple lesson.
You could outrun a merchant.
You could outsmart a noble.
You could even outmaneuver a royal envoy.
But you could never defeat paperwork.
Especially paperwork created by Kel Rosenfeld.
And somewhere inside the Administrative Building.
The waiting queue continued moving steadily forward.
Like a river.
Orderly.
Unstoppable.
And completely indifferent to how fast anyone had run that morning.