"Arbites"

Howard, having returned from the Khanty-Mansi Dome covered in the dust of travel, stood at the head of the left flank.

"My Lord, I have recruited workers from the surrounding domes, and all factories in the Khanty-Mansi Dome are currently back in operation."

"During the Nightfall Troupe, I shall issue work standards for every position at the Magneto Steelworks and deliver a speech to convey your will to all the laborers."

"Very good," Nimrod looked toward Yelena, "Yelena, it is your turn."

"My King, the Hive City garrison has completed its first round of recruitment. After Busak conducted their initial training, order in the Upper Hive has been restored."

Busak noticed the gazes now cast upon him by the nobles who had previously looked upon him with disdain.

He wore a smile, puffing out his chest.

The strategy Nimrod and Yelena had agreed upon was to avoid having him step forward initially, allowing the various noble houses to see the benefits in a more relaxed atmosphere, before finally having him intervene to establish rules and ensure that cooperation could be efficiently realized through contracts.

He and his cabinet ministers tacitly avoided mentioning this matter; after inquiring about issues such as road reconstruction, he spoke to make his announcement.

"During the Nightfall Troupe, I shall launch an offensive against the Lukpo Hive City."

The nobles and courtiers exchanged glances; they had heard not a whisper of this beforehand. Many at this moment recalled that Rawlslev, the commander who had risen alongside the new King, was absent from this hastily convened court session.

Howard felt the gazes of everyone gathered upon him. Since becoming an "Arbites," he knew Nimrod surely possessed even more miraculous power, and he was certain that Lukpo could not contend with this God of War.

He ignored the stares of the crowd; Nimrod's trust was more important than anything, and he hungered to receive the next boon.

The crowd then turned their gazes toward Yelena; she was a countess and the founder of the cabinet.

The Countess felt another hair turn white, and she spoke helplessly.

"My Lord, is this not a bit hasty?"

"Would it not be more appropriate to start with Mazov?"

"Too slow!"

Nimrod rejected Yelena's suggestion, "Since we have the capability, there is no need to beat around the bush."

The crowd felt the confidence he radiated—it was not a judgment, but a prophecy.

The court session concluded, and ten minutes before the Nightfall Troupe, Nimrod walked out of the Hive Spire.

His gaze passed over Rosicky and landed on a transport vehicle surrounded by servitors.

"Your heavy halberd has been delivered; the armor is expected to require another fourteen work cycles."

Nimrod nodded. He stepped up to the vehicle and reached out to draw the pitch-black alloy heavy halberd.

A servitor opposite him heard the sound of wind whistling overhead. He braced himself and looked up, only to see a towering back. After leaving behind the word "Good," Nimrod strode away.

At the same time, Howard hurried back to the Khanty-Mansi Dome. He took a silver cup from the captain of the guard and tilted his head back to drink the purified water transported from the Upper Hive.

He suddenly thought of something, covered the cup, and without handing it back to the guard, he issued an order.

"Have my dinner delivered to the high platform at the factory."

"As you command, Lord Count."

The captain of the guard immediately sent his men to execute the order.

As Nimrod boarded his custom open-top war chariot, Howard also climbed onto the high platform.

The thousands of workers below all tilted their heads to look at the noble on the platform, as if observing a different species.

Howard wore no gas mask; he wrinkled his brow as he inhaled the foul air, a mixture of copper stench and oil grime.

But it was merely a habitual discomfort, not a physical one; his body, having been enhanced, overcame the sensation immediately.

He wore a smile, "My worker brothers, I bring you good news—good news that will change your destiny."

A worker dressed in rags and covered in grease picked at his ear with his pinky finger.

"My Lord Noble, what good news could you have? Is it a pot of rat stew?"

"I've heard that King Nimrod, who just ascended the throne, has fed workers rat soup before; one worker even got a tail."

"That flavor—just thinking about it is intoxicating!"

He and the dozens of workers around him swallowed their saliva. At the same moment, in other factories, many workers watching Howard's speech via the installed video screens could not help but have their eyes light up.

"Quiet, you..."

The captain of the guard was so angry his face turned pale. He drew the Las-pistol at his waist, wanting to teach these Lower Hive dregs a lesson and show them what kind of respect they should maintain for a Count.

Howard reached out to stop his subordinate. A flash of anger crossed his eyes, but it calmed instantly, and his face remained wreathed in a smile.

"You have only ever eaten rat meat, so you think that is the finest delicacy in the world."

He picked up the aluminum lunch box at his feet and opened the lid. The aroma immediately permeated the air, and every worker stretched their necks.

"What is that?"

"This is tuna, from the Oceanic Movement. It comes from an ocean world."

"Even in the Upper Hive, very few people get to eat it, but now, you have the chance."

Howard had not deceived them; the coalition forces of the various Hive Cities of Vostonia had failed to gain the upper hand against the xenos pirates, and the impact of disrupted transport was already beginning to manifest in the upper hives.

While workers from other factories voiced mockery and skepticism, Magneto Steelworks fell silent.

The workers were gradually swayed by Howard's convincing words and smile; in their eyes, the blonde noble was no longer a high-and-mighty lord, and they quieted down to listen to the "Arbites" speak.

The guard captain was satisfied with the transformation of the underhive scum, yet he felt a sense of unease. He suddenly heard his master emphasize his tone, speaking with majesty.

"On behalf of King Nimrod, I announce that from this moment on, a new rationing system shall be enforced."

"Every job category has a set quota; all who complete their tasks shall receive a portion of corpse-starch."

"Those who exceed their quotas shall receive corresponding rewards in proportion to their output."

Workers from other factories spat disdainfully onto the ground and the nearby machinery.

"Lies, when have we ever been paid based on what we produce?"

"Exactly, ever since the servants of the Omnissiah abandoned the underhive, those gang thugs have only known how to beat us with clubs; when have they ever let us eat our fill?"

"I bet even if it were true, the standards would be impossible to meet—it's just a trick to make us work ourselves to the bone."

Inside Magneto Steelworks, the multitude of workers did not clamor; Howard seemed to radiate an invisible aura that made them subconsciously want to obey.

Howard stepped toward the high platform and spoke.

"You must think the standards are set too high to be achieved. Now, I tell you, as long as you put in a little effort, it is entirely within your reach."

The guard captain hurried to follow, gripping his weapon as he watched the surrounding scum nervously.

The blonde noble walking into the crowd felt no tension; beyond enhancing his spirit to grant him convincing charisma and sufficient authority, the "Arbites" augmentation also provided him with exceptional combat prowess.

Furthermore, he was clad in Artificer Power Armor; even if the workers were to riot, Howard was confident he could fight his way out.

The workers did not move, their gazes following the blonde noble.