When I was playing Hell SimCity Seasons 1 and 2, there was one thing I prioritized above all else.
Style.
Actually, scratch that—it was efficiency.
Style comes a close second to efficiency.
Of course, there's a reason for my obsession with efficiency.
It's not just because I was born into a past life of the 'pali-pali' hurry-hurry culture. Spending hundreds, thousands of years handling every single task in Hell by myself naturally seared efficiency into my brain.
So, the first thing I tackled was the unnecessarily bloated paperwork procedures.
Naturally, I didn't go in swinging like a brute from the start. I changed things little by little, starting with the minor details.
Those minor changes eventually forced the larger, rigid framework to shift, but that worked out for the best.
If you keep chipping away, the whole thing eventually collapses into a new shape.
Next, I reorganized the personnel.
"One 4th Seat, three 6th Seats, and five from the 7th Seat. Cut them all loose."
"Pardon? But they're all veterans with significant experience in the squad..."
"An organization needs system and discipline, but bastards who use discipline as an excuse to grind down their juniors only kill morale. Demote them. Don't do it openly; cycle them out to external duties and then permanently station them there. If they cause trouble at their new posts, report it to me immediately."
"Ah, yes... understood."
First, I conducted a restructuring based on what I'd observed so far.
I have no use for people who are nothing but poison to the collective.
Next, I analyzed the requirements of each role and the specific traits of the hundreds of individual members, gradually rebuilding from the bottom up.
'Why change what's already working?' and 'Is this really necessary?' Whispers like that circulated through the ranks, but I pushed through anyway.
Change isn't always good, but complacency is nothing short of decay.
Putting it simply like this might make it sound easy, but for those doing the actual work, it must have been hellish.
Suddenly, paperwork had mandatory templates; personnel were being shuffled around without warning; and they were being assigned tasks they'd never done before...
"The complaints from the squad members are reaching a breaking point."
"I know. It's only natural."
When you shake things up, discontent is an inevitability.
"Then let's issue a general leave for everyone."
"Now? With so much critical work pending?"
"That's precisely why we're doing it. If you just hammer away and expect people to keep rolling, you're looking for a wheel, not a human. In times like this, you have to let the pressure out before the boiler explodes. Give them a generous three days off. You decide the rotation order."
"Yes, sir."
I'd considered organizing a formal dinner to clear the air, but I figured seeing a superior's face when morale is low would only backfire. I scrapped that plan and opted for the vacation route instead.
Usually, resting at home on a paid holiday does a lot more for stress than looking at a boss across a dinner table.
Once they've vented some steam, they'll work better when they return.
Balancing the carrot and the stick, I managed the discontent while continuing the improvement... no, the overhaul of Squad 4.
Of course, that was just the internal work.
"What... is this?"
"A map of the water and sewage systems for the entire Soul Society. The current state is a total mess, so I'm gutting and rebuilding the whole thing. If you have a problem, step up."
The Seireitei was essentially a planned city, so its infrastructure was decent enough, but the Rukongai was a different story.
I went to the First Division headquarters to settle things with Yamamoto.
"Those without Spiritual Power do not need to eat or drink. Is such a project truly necessary?"
"Listen here, brat. You're completely dismissing basic human needs. Do people only eat because they're hungry? Even if they're not thirsty, humans want to drink water. And what do you think of the souls out there? Are you saying they shouldn't even be allowed to wash?"
"...The consumption of manpower and capital is simply too great."
"I'll personally oversee the command, and if we're short on funds, I'll pay for it myself. I've spent eons accumulating nothing but money. Next?"
"..."
"Nothing? Then stamp the document."
It wasn't even much of a negotiation. The conclusion was foregone; Yamamoto just needed to say yes.
And so, I began tearing up not just the Seireitei, but the entirety of the Soul Society.
As a result, I was handling more external affairs—infrastructure management, sanitation, environment—than actual Squad 4 duties.
But it didn't matter. The Soul Society? A city centered around the Seireitei? It wasn't nearly as vast as Hell.
Hell is still expanding even now.
I'm the guy who terraformed that entire place, built its facilities, let it crumble, and then did it all over again for 'Season 2'. A project of this scale was child's play.
Internal and external logistics posed no challenge to me.
The real difficulty was...
"Captain, the squad members are complaining of exhaustion."
"Hmm..."
Dealing with other people.
"This level of work shouldn't be that difficult, should it?"
"I suspect the workload might be a bit too heavy for the rank-and-file members."
The average squad member's level was a bit... well, quite a bit lower than I anticipated.
I'm not saying they're incompetent.
Even the regular members of Squad 4 are intelligent enough to have majored in at least one field of medicine and mastered Kaido.
How could such people be incompetent?
'If it were Jomon, he would've handled all this and filed a report before I even said a word. Tenjiro would have sorted it out instinctively without being told.'
But since my point of comparison consisted of legendary figures, it was inevitable that the current batch looked lackluster by comparison.
Of course, I didn't say that to their faces.
Who would be crazy enough to say that to people who are genuinely trying their best?
I just had to be the understanding one.
"Fine, let's start with half the current workload. We have some leftover budget from the seated officer restructuring, right? Give the members who've been working on this a performance bonus."
"Understood. Oh, and a problem has arisen with the infrastructure project."
"Yeah, I'm listening."
"In North Rukongai, District 80—Zaraki—a ruffian has been on a rampage, which has significantly delayed our progress. How should we proceed?"
Zaraki? Ah, that brat.
It's been about 300 years; it's about time he started raising hell.
"Casualties or injuries?"
"No fatalities, but a member of Squad 11 who was sent as an escort was injured and had to retreat. Should we request reinforcements?"
"No, don't bother. As long as no one's dead, leave them alone. If they keep getting beaten, eventually the current Kenpachi will get pissed off or lured by the thrill of the fight and go there himself."
"Shall we continue the project as is, then?"
"Yeah. But make sure to rotate the personnel in North Rukongai frequently. If they keep getting beaten up and work doesn't progress, they'll lose motivation."
"Understood, sir."
I blinked, noticing Lieutenant Sakurano looking strangely cheerful.
Her expression and actions were no different from usual, but there was an unmistakable aura of good mood around her.
"You seem happy. Did something good happen?"
"Oh! Was it that obvious?"
"Not really, it's just intuition and experience. Yachiru always has that smile on her face whether she's in a good mood or bad, so I've learned to sense the difference."
"Ahaha... Captain Unohana does smile quite a lot."
"You don't have to sugarcoat it. You know exactly how terrifying it is when she stares at you silently with that same smile. It sends chills down your spine."
I chuckled and shrugged, and Sakurano turned her gaze away, keeping her mouth shut.
"So, what's up?"
"Well... I'm a bit hesitant to say this, but Squad 4 has long been... not exactly despised, but certainly looked down upon by Squad 11."
"Ah. Those battle junkies. I can imagine. What did they say? That they're so tough they don't need treatment? Called us cowards or something?"
"Something like that. Sometimes it was worse. Those guys who wouldn't dare squeak a word in front of Captain Unohana would act so arrogant toward our regular members... But lately, that's decreased significantly! Just the other day, a man who usually yells, 'Spit on it and it'll heal!' and tries to leave... he actually came back to apologize for shouting. Can you believe it?"
Sakurano, finally letting out years of pent-up frustration, spoke rapidly as I smiled warmly.
"That's probably because of me."
"I knew it! How did you do it?"
"About half of those guys were trained by me."
And it was true. Unlike other divisions, Squad 11 is an extremely combat-oriented unit that exists solely for the struggle.
Even now, they still carried the savage air of the First Generation Gotei. It was obvious how much they'd been bullying the medics.
"You... you personally trained them, Captain?"
"Didn't I tell you? I'm the Director of the Budokan."
"The Budokan? You mean the place where only the top combat prodigies from the Shin'o Academy are gathered!?"
What exactly is the reputation of my Budokan these days?
And more importantly—Shin'o Academy? When did they change the name from Genji Academy?
"'Prodigies' is a strong word. Most of them are just muscle-brained idiots who don't know anything except how to swing a sword and bicker. Don't build them up so much."
"Ah... so that's why Squad 11 has been so humble..."
"I'll stop by Squad 11 later to tighten up their discipline some more, so don't worry about it."
Sakurano nodded, then shot a sneaky glance in my direction. I simply shook my head.
"Once Yachiru gives birth and the baby is a bit older, I'm handing this position back over."
"Ah..."
"Why do you look so disappointed? I thought you were the president of the Unohana fan club."
"I still respect Captain Unohana immensely! But facts are facts! How about I step down as Lieutenant, and Captain Unohana takes the Lieutenant seat instead!?"
Seeing her so high on enthusiasm, I let out a long sigh and waved her off.
"Absolutely not."
"Then what about having two Captains?"
"The Gotei 13 might turn into the Gotei 14, so drop it."
As I firmly shot down her suggestions, Sakurano's face gradually crumpled into a pout.
Moments like this remind me that Sakurano isn't just a stickler for rules; she's simply someone incredibly dedicated to her assigned role.
I chuckled and took a sip of tea.
"But I must say this. Honestly... I don't think I could ever function again without you, Captain—"
Damn, I almost spat out my tea.
"Stop right there. Watch your wording."
"Yes, sir."
Seriously, what has gotten into this kid?