Vikir made his way to the city hall in the center of Underdog City.
He made his way across the buildings that housed the many employees, and found his office at the far end.
"The new deputy magistrate is coming today, so make sure the place is clean."
"Who will he be?"
"I don't care who it is, I just hope it's someone who's a little more hands-on."
"Hey, what do you expect, I heard he's fifteen."
Employees sweep, mop, and clean throughout the building.
On a high wall hung a banner welcoming Vikir van Baskerville, the new Deputy Archon and Acting Archon.
Vikir walked nonchalantly past the workers.
He was supposed to start tomorrow, so they didn't pay much attention to him.
"Is this your kid, did the staff bring him here?"
"Honey, you're not supposed to be here."
"It's temporarily closed because the High King is coming tomorrow."
"You can go out there and play, there's a playground outside for the staff kids."
A few employees blocked Vikir's path.
"Move over."
When Vikir sees the letter of appointment in his hand, he ducks his head in confusion.
"..., you're early for work, Mr. President."
The staff falls flat on their faces, looking as if they've seen a ghost.
Vikir walks into the office and sits down in the overstuffed chair.
His first order, as soon as he assumed his position as de facto ruler, was order number one.
"Colonize the liquor and the women."
* * *
Baskerville, Chihuahua.
For ten years now, he'd been the clerk of the town hall here, and he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.
"I can't believe I've been drinking since day one.
And he's only 15 years old.
After all of his predecessors were suspended for bribery, it's hard not to feel sick to the stomach when a new kid comes in and starts getting promiscuous.
'What an asshole, and in a sacred workplace, too!
Chihuahua Baskerville rubbed his forehead with his hand.
He was from outside the clan and had been given the surname Baskerville in recognition of his administrative prowess.
Although he had to settle for the title of secretary because he didn't have a middle name of "Les" or "La" or "Van," he was working hard.
"Man, I've got a lot of work to do, and then some rascal comes rolling in and says.... At least I had some hope that Baskerville was from the inside."
I hadn't gotten my hopes up when the 15-year-old kid said he was coming, but now they were dashed.
Even now, the sound of clinking glasses, giggling women, and singing clowns could be heard outside the window.
Baskerville, the Chihuahua, twitched his goatee nervously and threw down his filing cabinet.
"Yeah, damn it, it takes a damned underdog cigar to wake me up and just...!?"
But he couldn't get his complaint out.
Creak-
The door to his office opened, revealing a boy.
Vikir Van Baskerville. The new Archon.
He was finally officially in the office.
"You're the head of the office."
The Chihuahua Baskerville gave Vikir a mock polite look.
"Yes, sir. I'm Chihuahua Baskerville."
"You don't have a middle name."
The Chihuahua's expression hardened slightly at Vikir's words.
To not even have a middle name for a half-breed or illegitimate child was to be from outside the family.
Usually, those brought in from the outside were indentured servants within the Baskervilles for three years before being given the Baskerville surname and formally admitted into the family, which was exactly what Staffordshire and Chihuahua had done.
Strictly speaking, they are not blood relatives, but users.
The new deputies would always use this as a way to discriminate against the newcomers.
So Chihuahua had to put up with the bitterness of this atmosphere.
But.
"Good."
Vikir's assessment came as a surprise.
As the Chihuahua's eyes widened, Vikir recalled a memory from the past.
"Chihuahua Baskerville, yes, I recognize the name.
He's a skinny guy, and his goatee gives him the image of a lowly ganeshin, but he's surprisingly kind-hearted.
And because he was an outsider, he faced a lot of discrimination, and his accomplishments were often labeled as those of a ruler or deputy ruler.
This was something that Vikir identified with.
Vikir also doesn't trust his own family members, and outsiders with proven credentials are much more trustworthy.
"I took a quick look at your bio on the way in. You're from Underdog City, right?"
"Yes? Yes, yes, I'm a native, born and raised here."
"Then you know the lay of the land better than I, a newcomer to the city."
"...That's right."
The Chihuahua hesitated to answer, then realized he shouldn't have.
He knew from experience that this would be followed by a string of "If you know so much, why don't you do it?", "If you're so good, why are you working for me?", "How dare you try to boss me around?", "Why don't you just do it all?", and so on.
But once again, Vikir's answer was unexpected.
"I know the hard work of the people who actually run on the field, and I have no intention of interfering with their principles, customs, or styles."
The Chihuahua went blank at that.
He hadn't expected to hear these words from someone from within the family.
Naturally, he was expecting a sense of privilege and to tear down all the old customs as bad.
"Well, at least you don't seem to be a carcinogenic character.
If it didn't do any good, at least it wouldn't do any harm.
While the Chihuahua breathed a sigh of relief, Vikir flipped through the papers on his desk.
Parallax.
The sound of the papers being flipped, and the Chihuahua didn't expect Vikir to be looking at them.
But to his surprise, Vikir was looking at all of them carefully.
And then. Closing the papers, Vikir said.
"I don't see anything wrong with the legislative system, but there are a lot of oddities in the judicial system."
"What? You've seen all that, the bird?"
Chihuahua asked in amazement. The papers here are hundreds of pages long.
But Vikir already knew a lot about the Underdog City.
It was one of the more prominent cities in the pre-Reversion spy and planting operations.
"There are illegal gambling houses, brothels, slave auctions, and all sorts of private banking going on in the territory. The underground economy of Underdog City is probably quite substantial."
The Chihuahua's eyes narrowed.
Vikir continued.
"Perhaps these are the factors that led to the departure of the previous deputy magistrates. It will not be easy to break the cycle without some sort of compromise."
"...."
"Aye. What do you think, you underdog native?"
Vikir asks outright, and the Chihuahua can only twitch his lips.
Not only has Vikir grasped all these documents and gotten to the heart of Underdog City's core issues, but he's also consulted with her on the most important issues without looking down on her as a subordinate from the outside.
And he came to me on his first day, even a day in advance!
At this sudden turn of events, which defied common sense, the Chihuahua could only stammer, unable to answer.
Vikir smirks.
"It's actually quite easy to take down an underground economy, you just have to get to the heart of the matter, hidden amongst the dotty remnants of lawlessness."
In a previous life, Vikir had a long history of battling illegal organizations in the underdog city.
As a result, he knew almost everything about who was committing what crimes and where they were hiding.
He even knew the locations and identities of the bureaucrats who were taking bribes.
'It's worth it,' I thought, 'to look through the black books left over from the pre-Regression busting of the illegal organizations.
It's the job of a deputy magistrate to make and enforce laws.
Vikir got right to work.
"I honor all the laws that have come before. I'm just adding one new law to them."
"A new law?"
"Yes. It won't be very long, a few lines at most."
Vikir's eyes lit up.
"Within a week, we will have dried up the seeds of Underdog City's underground economy."
Short and bold, he finished and floated off to the Academy.
There was a war on crime to come, and some laws that would be necessary.
"And to create and enforce these laws, we need a rationale."
Hearing Vikir murmur, the Chihuahua felt herself slowly being drawn into the strange aura the boy exuded.
She couldn't help but ask.
"What's the point? Why do you want to fight lawlessness...?"
"I'm still young, and above all, am I not a rookie who will be joining the force tomorrow?"
Vikir looked back at the Chihuahua and smirked.
"Isn't the least you could do is give me a 'warning'?"
"...?"
The Chihuahua shakes his head, unable to understand Vikir's words.
But Vikir doesn't bother to explain further.
Instead, he strokes his chin as he looks out the window of the ruler's office and down at the bar.
Pour, drink. The gathering to welcome the new Deputy Archon, Vikir, is already large.
In fact, the party was going strong even without him.
And Vikir, who should be the center of attention, is sitting in the high council chambers right now, planning tomorrow's events.
"...Yes. You gotta shit to catch shit flies."
Vikir's voice, muttering in a low voice, had an edge to it that didn't belong to a 15-year-old.
And the Chihuahua thought.
Maybe this encounter with the boy in front of him would change his entire life.