Chapter 108. Administrative Region Reform
“Then flip the table.”
Grayson froze. “Huh?”
“I said, flip this rotten table called the feudal enfeoffnt system.”
Logaris West walked to the map, reached out, pulled out all the small flags representing the various noble territories, and threw them into the trash.
Then he picked up a red charcoal pencil and drew several large circles across the map.
“Why should we let that pack of idiots, who know nothing except breeding children and collecting rent, manage the land?”
Logaris West spun the red charcoal pencil once between his fingers, then jabbed hard at the red-marked regions on the map.
“Grayson, you are in charge of money too, so let ask you sothing.”
“If you ran a factory, and one of your workshop supervisors not only took the products ho for his own use, but also stuffed all the profits into his own pocket, and then wanted to pass the position on to his drooling fool of a son, what would you do?”
Grayson was stunned for a mont.
Then he answered instinctively, “Of course I would kick him out, and then arrest him.”
“Exactly.”
Logaris West snapped his fingers and pointed at the noble territories on the map.
“The current Northern Territory is like this. Sylvia is the factory director, and you are finance. Those lords occupying vast tracts of land, mines, and population are those greedy workshop supervisors.”
“If we are going to reform things, why should we keep these so-called ‘middlen’ who know how to do nothing except suck blood?”
“But…” Grayson wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. “This has been the rule for thousands of years. Nobles fight wars for the king, and the king grants them land. If there are no fiefs, who would still be willing to risk their lives for the royal family?”
“That was before.”
Sylvia suddenly spoke.
She leaned back in her chair, her long legs crossed, idly playing with that exquisite letter opener in her hand.
Her silver-gray eyes were fixed on the map.
There was not the slightest trace of fear in them.
Instead, a fire called ambition had begun to burn.
“In the past, the royal family granted fiefs because it needed those lords to charge into battle with their private armies. But now?”
A cold smile curled across Sylvia’s lips as the letter opener spun deftly between her fingers.
“Take a look at those so-called ‘family elites’ Gleiman kept. What can they do besides bully commoners and collect rent? A mob carrying rusty iron swords, incapable of even standing in a proper formation. You expect them to fight a war? They have no value whatsoever except wasting military rations and fleeing the battlefield.”
“Look outside. riga across the sea completed the professionalization of its rcenary system long ago. The Valeria Empire to the west is pushing magitech chanization reform like mad. The whole world is desperately running forward, and only these idiots are still clinging to the ‘glory of bloodline’ from centuries ago while dreaming in a pit of rotting mud.”
Sylvia sat up straighter.
The letter opener in her hand struck with a thud, embedding itself precisely into a piece of territory on the map that had once belonged to the Gleiman family, as though pronouncing a death sentence.
“The tis have changed, Grayson. Since they have beco so weak that they are not even qualified to serve as cannon fodder anymore, why should I hand my land over to a bunch of useless trash?”
Logaris West gave her an approving look, then pulled out a draft he had prepared long ago from the pile of docunts and slapped it onto the table.
Several murderous words were written across the cover—
《Draft Plan for Northern Territory Administrative Region Reform (Trial Version)》.
“This is the new plan.”
Logaris West pointed at the docunt and spoke rapidly.
“All ownerless lands reclaid from now on will no longer be redistributed as fiefs. Ownership will belong to the Governor’s Residence of the Northern Territory—in other words, ‘state-owned.’”
“We will redraw these lands into ‘cities’ and ‘counties.’ This is called the ‘prefecture-county system.’”
“The administrators will no longer be hereditary lords, but ‘mayors’ and ‘county magistrates’ directly appointed by the Governor’s Residence.”
Grayson’s eyes widened.
The more he read the clauses, the more alard he beca.
Clause One: Officials would serve three-year terms and face evaluation at the end. Those who perford well would be promoted. Those who perford poorly would be kicked out. Those who embezzled would be sent directly to the mines.
Clause Two: Officials must serve away from their ho region. If you were from Winter City, then you would go govern another city, preventing you from building local family power.
Clause Three: Taxation, judicial authority, and military authority would all be reclaid by the central governnt. Local officials would only be responsible for administration and people’s livelihood.
“Cruel.”
Grayson held it in for a long ti and only managed to squeeze out that one word.
This was not reform.
This was practically digging up the ancestral graves of the old nobles.
“If this is really implented…” Grayson swallowed hard. “Those nobles will go mad. This is the sa as cutting off their roots.”
“That is why we are calling it a ‘pilot program.’”
Logaris West smiled like a great gray wolf luring in a little white rabbit.
“We will only implent it on the lands of those unfortunate fools whose properties have already been confiscated. As for the other nobles, we will leave them alone for now. This is called boiling a frog in warm water.”
“Still, we cannot treat those old nobles as genuine fools. Even if we only do this in the ownerless lands, anyone with a sharp mind will understand what it ans. Once the lips are gone, the teeth grow cold. Once that warm water keeps boiling, a few frogs will definitely want to leap out and bite.”
“Then let them jump.”
Sylvia picked up the thread.
“My Shadow Guard has already infiltrated every one of their secret etings and every banquet they hold. They think they are coordinating and plotting in dark corners, but in reality, they are rely putting on a performance right under my eyes.”
Sylvia lifted her head.
A hunter’s cold light flashed in her silver-gray eyes as prey fell into the net.
“Whoever dares to jump out at a ti like this and beco that so-called ‘sensitive nerve,’ I will use the opportunity to sever that nerve completely. I am confident that before they can form any real united force, I can press every restless head into the dirt.”
After saying that, she picked up the Governor’s seal that symbolized supre authority.
There was not the slightest hesitation.
SMACK!
The bright red seal was stamped onto the docunt.
“Cicero.” Sylvia turned to look at the Chief Judicial Officer, who had been sitting silently in the corner the whole ti.
“Yes.” Cicero pushed up his glasses.
His expression looked both excited and on the verge of tears.
He was excited because, as a scholar of law, personally participating in this kind of epoch-making institutional reform was an honor worthy of ancestral blessing.
He wanted to cry because he knew that once he took on this task, he would truly beco public enemy number one among all the old nobles of the Northern Territory.
“Draft the specific Land Recovery Act and Official Selection Regulations. The faster, the better.”
“And also,” Logaris West added, “rember to include a clause in the law: whoever resists the reform shall be treated as a traitor.”
Cicero took a deep breath, stood up, and straightened the collar of his suit.
“Understood. Boss, just rember to buy an extra insurance policy.”
…
News of the new bill spread even faster than a plague.
Countless carrier pigeons flew wildly over the city.
Every estate in the noble district was filled with an air of anxiety and fear.
The contents of the Trial Draft were like a massive bomb dropped into a cesspit, blowing that pampered group of lords until their faces were sared with filth and forcing them to reflect on their lives.
No more enfeoffnt?
An appointnt system for officials?
Rotation to different regions?
Every single clause was challenging the limits of their understanding.
If this thing were truly implented across the board, then what would they beco?
In the future, would their sons and grandsons have to be like those mud-legged peasants, taking examinations and becoming civil officials who could be dismissed at any ti?
No.
Absolutely not.
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