People in Terra, governing a bizarre little country

Therefore, Ernst really needed a teacher of decent ability to share the burden.

“I know you have no ulterior motives and are genuinely thinking of the night school, but Ceylon, is it appropriate to have a Sarkaz as a teacher at Spark Night School?”

Ernst looked at Ceylon with some helplessness, then slightly shifted his gaze to Hedley, who was standing at the office door, not yet having received Ernst's interview permission and had not yet entered. He sighed softly.

Ernst was annoyed, but Ceylon was unconcerned. This sheltered young woman, with the naiveté of a university student, frowned slightly at Ernst's clearly "unfair" remarks and boldly voiced her doubts:

“What’s inappropriate about it? Sherag doesn’t have a tradition of discriminating against Sarkaz. Wouldn’t it be better if everyone were more harmonious and friendly? Besides, there are good and bad Sarkaz, right? He Dalei is indeed very talented, and we happen to lack someone who has enough understanding of the outside world and is capable enough to be a teacher. Why can’t we let him give it a try?”

Ernst could only purse his lips in response.

He really couldn't answer that question.

Perhaps Ceylon was simply acting out of a simple desire to speak up for Hadley, but from Ernst's perspective, the considerations were far more complex.

Did Hedley have the ability to be a teacher? Of course he did.

Although Ceylon didn't consider many factors, her professional knowledge must be solid. She recognized Hadley's abilities after the first interview, which at least proves that Hadley meets the requirements for a teacher at Spark Night School.

But sometimes, ability really can't determine everything.

Why do capable individuals fail to find a stage to demonstrate their combat skills? This question has always existed, and not only on Terra. In Ernst's previous life on Earth, similar examples were plentiful. Ceylon might see this as simply unfairness, but the reality is far more complex.

To give a classic example, imagine one day Kal'tsit says to Amiya, "Do you agree with the suggestion that a reformed murderer should be given a chance to atone, to reintegrate into society, and live an ordinary, stable life?"

Given Amiya's tolerant and compassionate nature, she would surely answer "I do".

But if Kal'tsit said, "Then I'll arrange for Theresis to go to Rhodes Island tomorrow."

Even someone as benevolent and kind as Amiya would likely have some hesitation and doubt.

This is simply a matter of perspective. Amiya, who agrees with Kal'tsit's suggestion, is genuine; she is far from hypocritical. However, when discussing this matter, she takes a more macro and third-party perspective, making her more "fair."

This kind of impartiality can be called the "arbitrator's perspective," or it can be called speaking from a position of privilege.

However, once something directly involves her own interests, such as Theresis's arrival on the island, no matter what choice Amiya ultimately makes, she will inevitably hesitate from the beginning. Because at that moment, she is no longer a third party, but a party directly involved.

Ernst faced just such a difficulty.

Hedley may not be as "famous" as Theresis, but he comes from a famous race as well—the Sarkaz.

Ernst could hire a Sarkaz teacher and dismiss the consequences without a second thought, but a more responsible approach would be to carefully consider the pros and cons. For example, what if, in the future, a Sarkaz graduate from Spark Night School is looking for work in another country, and the HR interviewer asks, "Where did you graduate from, and who was your teacher?"

He replied, "Hedley, 42, is a Sarkaz."

Doesn't that put you at a disadvantage compared to other competitors from the start?

Some might say, "Is it really that serious? Isn't ability the most important thing when looking for a job?"

But that's the reality. Vocational college and second-tier university graduates can't compete with those from 985 and 211 universities. And even the most capable students, nurtured by a Sarkaz professor's dedicated teaching, can't compare to someone who says, "My teacher is Christensen." Society doesn't have the time to meticulously select the quality of every single component, so your manufacturer often directly determines your purpose.

Is this fair? Of course not.

But is this true?

Ernst could only sigh and say, "That's reality."

"Prime Minister Ernst, may I say a few words?"

Hedley's voice suddenly entered the room. Outside the half-open door, the one-eyed man's remaining pupil gleamed, as if he had already sensed the reason for the tense atmosphere inside.

"I believe my abilities are adequate, and with Miss Ceylon recommending me, there must be only one possibility since Prime Minister Ernst is still hesitating."

He squeezed half his body through the half-open doorway, which was not blocked by anyone, and stated the truth he knew in a tone that was both shocking and somewhat sorrowful:

"Is it because of my identity and my race?"

No, it has nothing to do with your identity as a spy. Spies are nothing new in Kjerag, even Sarkaz spies are no exception. Not to mention you're a rare double agent. Ernst even once thought that if a single agent can bring glory to Kjerag, wouldn't a double agent be able to do even more?

The only thing that restricts you is your race.

"But Prime Minister Ernst, even Christen, the Grand Secretary of Rhine Life, was able to hire a great succubus to help her dream. Don't you have the same courage?"

"I, He Dalei, only yearn for a peaceful life. Is there really no place for a human being to live in Shelag under the rule of Jeragand?"

Ernst was slightly taken aback, then shook his head with a wry smile.

To be honest, Hadley's use of such a clumsy provocation at this moment was truly unreasonable. If it had been someone else, Ernst would be sure that Hadley's very first words would have been met with a retort:

"Why don't you go there instead of going to other places? You come here looking for a job and you dare to talk back to me like that? You're asking for it! Get lost! We in Shelag have everything, but we don't need people!"

Unfortunately, the person he addressed with those two sentences was Ernst.

They all came from the cutthroat, cutthroat era of civil service exams, emerging from millions of applicants. No one understood better than Ernst the reasons for choosing this path. The slogans were heartfelt, the declarations earnest and powerful. Everyone embarked on this path with hope, dreaming of making a name for themselves, becoming a good official, and doing things that would earn the praise of the people.

But who can deny that deep down, everyone has always harbored thoughts of "making life more stable, secure, and having a stable job"?

Who isn't just living their life?

He did consider too many things. Having been a political figure for too long, he subconsciously only thought about issues from the perspectives of advantages and disadvantages, stability, and impact, to the point that he almost forgot his original intentions!

That's not good. If this embarrassing incident gets out, Ernst will get at least two scoldings!

One is Levy, who trusted himself and acted out of a sense of public duty.

One is my former self, born from the original intention of a person living a simple life.

Ernst took a deep breath and looked at the somewhat apprehensive Hedley. Judging from his expression, it seemed that his speech hadn't been prepared in advance; it was truly improvised.

You're lucky, actually.

Ernst nodded to him:

“That’s right. No matter what your other factors are, they can only be considered as advantages or disadvantages, and they can’t be the deciding factors for a person. Both logically and emotionally, I should give you a chance to prove yourself.”

It was also an opportunity to adjust my mindset in time.

Ernst thought to himself silently. He straightened his expression, stood up, nodded to Ceylon who was smiling again, gesturing for her to rest on the sofa, then walked out of his desk, opened the door to a small adjoining conference room, revealing a long table reminiscent of 10 Downing Street:

"Come in, Mr. He Dalei. I won't give you any extra points for what you just said. The interview has only just begun."

Chapter 251 Gray Top Hat: Could it be that I really am a genius?

Shelag, train station.

Grey Hat, stationed in Shelag, has been quite depressed lately.

He used to have an easy job. The people of Shelag were simple and honest, and the society was stable. There was almost nothing special to write down from morning to night. Sometimes, after a week or a month, the number of events that could be reported was not even enough to cover the content of a single day in other countries. This meant that his workload would be very small.

At first, he was worried that if the report he submitted contained too little information, it might displease his superior, the Grey Hat, and his immediate boss, the Duke of Caesar. However, after he nervously and truthfully submitted the report for the first time, he dispelled his concerns.

Unexpectedly, the Duke of Custer not only did not hold him accountable, but was quite satisfied with the outcome and even rewarded him, encouraging him to continue his efforts and live a longer time in Sherag.

The man in the grey top hat was a little puzzled. Why would the Duke give such a strange blessing to someone as safe as Sherag? But later, the Duke of Castells never explained, and the man gradually forgot about it, taking it all as a casual joke by the Duke of Castells.

His workload was among the highest of all his colleagues in the "Grey Hats" group, albeit in reverse order. Yet, his salary and bonuses were also among the top in the group, which made him somewhat suspicious and embarrassed. In future reports, if there was a lot of content for the month, the "Grey Hat" would report it truthfully; if there wasn't enough, he would add more trivial details and descriptions of uninformative but interesting things. Over time, this somewhat soothed his inner anxiety, making him feel more justified in accepting his salary.

To be fair, isn't this kind of job a dream job?

In fact, Grey Hat thought so too. But unfortunately, this cushy job was recently ruined.

"I don't know which unlucky colleague was jealous of this position and went to the Duke to slander me! They actually made me investigate whether Mr. Ernst had made any special arrangements for the upcoming World's Fair?"

Grey Hat was speechless at the thought of the outrageous mission request in the secret letter from the Duchy of Caesars.

It's all messed up, it's really messed up!

Which treacherous minister tricked the wise and mighty Duke into issuing such an outrageous task? Isn't this putting him in a very difficult position?

Grey Hat was also an old hand at intelligence gathering. He had been a spy for a whole year longer than Ernst had been reincarnated as a snow leopard. How could he not see that this seemingly simple mission requirement was actually a huge trap?

The World's Fair was the first large-scale international event hosted by the government in Kjerag. Ernst went to great lengths to ensure its smooth operation, accelerating urban reconstruction, constructing new statues and landmark buildings, and leveraging his extensive network to secure the participation of many influential figures. Given Ernst's personality, it's hard to believe he didn't make some special arrangements for such a momentous event!

But the question is, what exactly is his arrangement? Is it something that someone in a grey top hat could easily figure out?

That's easy to say. The Grey Hats aren't gods, not the great gods of Yeragand, who can monitor the entire Sherag for fun... cough cough, to gather intelligence. They're human too; they have to follow basic principles and have proper channels for gathering intelligence.

Acquaintances, friends, relatives. Subordinates, superiors, colleagues. To truly understand one person in the world, you must first know at least three others. In other countries, infiltration isn't difficult. Although relationships are complex, they ultimately boil down to self-interest. Offering a little reward and revealing information like "I have connections" is enough to fool one or two fools.

But ironically, this approach didn't work in Sherag.

Because this place is so backward, it's a truly family-based society. Those who can access Ernst's core network are either Ernst's trusted subordinates, making infiltration impossible, or they belong to monolithic family forces, such as the Shivaesh, Perroch, and Brantau families. Their internal relationships are incredibly complex, and not just purely based on self-interest, but also on complicated blood ties. Every single person is interconnected, and infiltration would involve a huge undertaking, costing enormous sums, with no guarantee of success. If exposed, the likely outcome would be centuries of experiencing the "unique northwest winds" of Shelag.

In the past, he would have just muddled through and gotten away with it. If he really wanted to get some intelligence, he would have spent time grinding and making friends with people from scratch. If the intelligence wasn't that important, he could probably get a result after two or three months of this.

But this mission only gave him three months!

Grey Hat was really struggling to keep his composure. If it weren't for the fact that the reply would be delivered to the Duke of Custer's desk and seen by her personally, and that it concerned his bright future, Grey Hat would have really wanted to draw a sweating soybean on the letter and send a cursing message to the eight generations of ancestors of the treacherous minister who issued this task!

Unfortunately, I can't post it.

Not only could he not issue the task, he also had to obediently complete it, even if the task was completely unreasonable. But what could he do? It was the Duke's decision.

What is loyalty? Loyalty is that even if Duke Kaster mistreats me a thousand times, I, the Grey-Hat, will still treat Duke Kaster like my first love! Even if there are treacherous ministers and scoundrels around the Duke, I cannot disobey the Duke's will!

As for things like eliminating insects and shooting down the sun, let's consider that after he's promoted to the Duke's side!

I've already started studying entomology.jpg

"Sigh, what else can we do? Life still goes on."

Knowing that his peaceful and joyful days were about to be gone forever, the man in the grey hat could only let out a futile sigh, burying his dissatisfaction and sorrow deep in his heart, and then he stepped onto the snow-covered special train that was stopping at the station in front of him.

He wasn't taking the train to exploit feudalism or to get reimbursed by the Duke of Caesar. Rather, he believed that this special snow-covered train line from Scherrag might become a crucial element in Ernst's future plans.

The reason is simple—everyone has to take this train to get to Shelag, right?

As the first gathering place for all forces, it will inevitably become the first arena for power struggles. Judging from his own experience, if he were Ernst, there would certainly be corresponding arrangements on the Snowfield Train. Perhaps to mediate conflicts, or to demonstrate a stance, or perhaps Ernst, standing on the fifth floor, would simply say, "Your soy milk was wasted at my feet," directly presenting everyone with the first firecracker of 1094—Sherlock's declaration of war against all nations.

Hmm... the last one is probably unlikely.

Grey Hat decided to focus on investigating and analyzing the first two possibilities.

This wasn't the first time Grey Hat had ridden the Snowland Train. As one of the earliest "Grey Hats" sent by the Duke of Caesar to infiltrate Kjerag, he was among those who truly witnessed Kjerag's development. The Snowland Train line had grown from a single train running only once every few days, with just a handful of passengers, to a bustling hub of activity, complete with VIP compartments, a dining car, and entertainment rooms. Its rapid development and remarkable progress had certainly broadened Grey Hat's horizons.

After passing through the noisy, bustling ordinary carriage filled with the chatter of tourists and the laughter of children, he quickly arrived at his destination: the private compartment, which was also his reserved spot.

Of course, it can be reimbursed.

The Snowfield Express's cabin wasn't large, with two rows of facing leather sofas and a reinforced wooden table in the middle to prevent wobbling. On the table were vases and flowers glued in place, a menu for a complimentary refillable tea, and a bell to call the train attendant. Further away were bookshelves filled with the latest Columbia and Victoria monthly magazines, as well as a Kjerag travel guide. Above the bookshelves were glass windows, through which one could see the towering Kjerag mountains rushing past outside the speeding train.

Grey Hat had seen many train compartments that were more exquisite, more dazzling, and more luxuriously decorated than this, but the compartment on the Snowfield Special Line was still enough for him to call it "exquisite".

Though small, it has everything you need. The space is limited, but every inch is utilized to the fullest, avoiding a cramped or bulky feel while satisfying both functionality and aesthetics. It's clear the designer put a lot of thought into it.

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, on the day the World's Fair opens, these small boxes will be filled with prominent figures from all over Terra.

After silently checking the compartment and confirming that there was no special space to hide anyone, the man in the grey hat settled comfortably in his seat and began to enjoy his train journey.

Okay, that concludes today's survey.

What? It's that simple?

Yes, it's that simple.

Anyway, his boss, the Duke of Caesar, had a very ambiguous attitude towards Mr. Ernst, and the difficulty and reward of this task were completely mismatched. It was just a matter of a few hundred dollars, why would he risk his life?

He can conduct an on-site investigation, write a report, and then make a symbolic trip when the World's Fair is held. This will naturally compile a reasonable report to submit to His Excellency the Duke.

The logic is simple. Everyone knows that Ernst would definitely make arrangements for the World's Fair. Everyone also knows that Ernst would have made arrangements for the Snowfield Special Line, a place where various countries and forces gather. So, he came to conduct an on-site inspection, investigated, and confirmed this fact, isn't that enough?

You think Ernst had a plan, and I think so too. I did an "investigation" and my conclusion was also "yes, there was a plan." Once the conclusion was reported, the job was done.

What? You're asking me what the specific arrangements are?

I don't know, you didn't ask me for a specific plan. Why don't you ask Prime Minister Ernst yourself?

You want me to investigate? That's not impossible, but it would cost a different price.

To slack off, you have to do it gracefully, comfortably, logically, and flawlessly!

Content, relaxed, and at ease, the man in the grey top hat lay comfortably on the soft leather sofa, closed his eyes, and a smug smile appeared on his lips.

"Come again when the time comes, and opening two doors will solve the problem."

"What an easy task!"

Could it be that I really am a genius?

PS: A book on Python.

Synopsis: Chosen by the system, I was given the option to activate the simulator at the cost of shortening my lifespan by sixty years.

With only 168 hours left to prolong his life, Xu Ming ventures into simulation and dances with the gods.