113: Chapter 113 There are no walls that can't be breached, only mismatched KPIs.

Valerius's vacant eyes held no spark of life, like a puppet whose soul had been snatched away, only able to nod subconsciously.

His dignity, authority, and even his ability to think had been thoroughly crushed in that brief span of time; now, only humiliated instinct remained.

"Very well, then it's settled." The smile on Levi's face grew more sincere, as if he were truly looking out for the other party. "I believe Sir Kaelan will make an excellent... observer."

Having finished, he didn't spare Valerius another glance, merely giving Evelyn a slight nod. The two then turned and left the banquet hall, which had just witnessed the loss of Silvermoon City's sovereignty, with unhurried steps.

Only Valerius was left, slumped at the cold, messy dining table, completely submerged in immense humiliation and fear.

The carriage returning to Blackstone Territory rumbled as its wheels rolled over the rugged dirt road, making a dull, rhythmic creaking sound.

Inside the carriage, the atmosphere was so oppressive it felt as though water could be wrung from the air.

Sir Kaelan sat upright, his body as straight as a spear. He hadn't removed his full plate armor, only taking off his helmet and placing it on his knees.

He stared fixedly out the window at the wilderness rushing past, his jawline clenched tight like a stubborn rock.

From every pore of his body, an undisguised hostility and vigilance seeped out.

Surveillance.

This was the sole mission he had defined for himself on this trip.

Although the City Lord had been bewitched by that young demon, he, Kaelan, The Last Lion of Silvermoon City, would never yield.

He would use his own eyes to see through all the schemes of this man named Levi, find his weaknesses, and then crush him along with his ridiculous "business empire" like an insect.

Levi seemed completely oblivious to this.

He leaned comfortably against the soft velvet cushions, holding a stack of parchment filled with numbers and charts, discussing something in low tones with Evelyn across from him.

Their voices weren't loud, but in the small, quiet carriage, every word drilled clearly into Kaelan's ears.

"The transport route this time can be further optimized," Levi's finger traced across a simple map. "From Ironwood Forest to Greyrock Ferry, the existing route needs to bypass a swamp, adding at least twelve miles. I've checked the hydrological records of the last ten years; that swamp's water level is extremely low during the dry season. A temporary bypass could be laid using planks and crushed stone. Evelyn, calculate the cost of laying the bypass and the ROI compared to the transport time, horse wear-and-tear, and labor costs saved over the next five years."

Evelyn pulled another data sheet from her briefcase, her eyes scanning it rapidly. She answered almost without pause, "Estimated construction cost is three hundred and fifty gold coins, primarily using locally sourced wood and stone. According to our new capacity plan, this bypass could save us approximately one hundred and eighty gold coins in integrated costs annually. Deducting twenty gold coins for annual maintenance, the net profit is one hundred and sixty gold coins. The full investment can be recovered in two years and two months, with a five-year total ROI of two hundred and fifty-seven percent."

Sir Kaelan's eye twitched imperceptibly.

These words—cost, ROI, integrated costs—were like an otherworldly language to him, filled with a cold and alien flavor.

But throughout his long military career, he had also been responsible for logistics. He instinctively realized that behind these numbers lay a logic he had never encountered, yet one that was heart-stoppingly efficient.

He remained silent, snorting coldly in his heart.

Just a merchant's petty cleverness. Before absolute martial force, these fancy calculations were meaningless.

"Still too slow." Levi shook his head, seemingly unsatisfied with the result. "The saved costs must be felt intuitively by the frontline personnel. Here's what we'll do: list the bypass project as an annual infrastructure task for the Security Department. Tell them that thirty percent of the costs saved in the first year will be directly distributed as project bonuses to all personnel involved in the construction and subsequent maintenance. Let them figure out for themselves how to complete it at a lower cost and in a faster time, while ensuring quality."

Evelyn quickly noted it down on the parchment: "Understood. Directly linking cost control with performance incentives, utilizing the initiative of frontline personnel for spontaneous cost optimization."

Kaelan's brow furrowed.

He understood.

This was using money to bribe soldiers who should only know how to follow orders.

Shameful!

How could a warrior's honor be defiled by the stench of copper?

Levi seemed to have a dry throat. He picked up the water cup beside him, took a sip, and his gaze inadvertently swept over Kaelan's tense face. He changed the subject as if merely making small talk.

"Speaking of which, Silvermoon City's defense system has similar redundancy issues. Take the patrol route outside the eastern city wall, for instance. The hand-off point for the third and fifth squads is in the back alley of the Weeping Widow Tavern, right?"

Kaelan's heart skipped a beat, and his fingers gripping the helmet tightened involuntarily.

That was a secret of the city's defense. How could he know?

"This hand-off point creates a patrol blind spot lasting seven minutes every day. Because the third squad habitually finishes five minutes early, while the fifth squad, to show their rigor, always sets out on time or even two minutes late. Seven minutes is enough for an agile thief to cross three streets."

"Nonsense!" Kaelan finally couldn't help himself; the rebuttal blurted out.

This was not just a military secret; it concerned his honor as the Captain of the Guard!

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it.

He should have remained silent, playing the part of a cold observer, instead of being easily provoked by the other party into a conversation he didn't fully understand.

Levi seemed completely surprised that he had spoken, a look of well-timed astonishment appearing on his face before he explained with a smile, "Sir, please don't misunderstand. I'm not questioning the discipline of your troops; I'm merely conducting a pure, data-based risk assessment. Look," he pushed a piece of paper over, "these are the statistics our people gathered over the past month regarding the alcohol consumption at the Weeping Widow Tavern. During the shift change every afternoon, there's a clear spike in ale sales. This indicates that at least one squad of soldiers goes there for a drink around the time their duty ends."

Kaelan's face instantly turned beet red.

Of course he knew those brats had that bad habit. He had scolded them many times, but since it wasn't a major issue and it was hard to punish everyone, it eventually fell by the wayside.

But he never imagined that such a trivial matter would be quantified into analyzable data by the other party and used to derive a fatal flaw in his city's defense system!

"Even so..." Kaelan tried to argue, "that's just a matter of military discipline. What does it have to do with what you call... costs?"

"It has everything to do with it." Levi's tone became serious. "Let's do the math. Seven minutes of patrol overlap or vacancy every day means at least fourteen minutes of labor are ineffective daily. For two ten-man squads, over a year, the wasted ineffective man-hours exceed eighty-five workdays. Based on the average salary and equipment wear-and-tear of Silvermoon City guards, this seemingly insignificant habit costs City Lord Valerius at least fifty gold coins in wasted expenditure every year. If those fifty gold coins were used as salary subsidies, wouldn't the soldiers be more motivated? Or, with that money, you could replace the chainmail for five more soldiers, increasing their chances of survival on the battlefield?"

Kaelan was completely speechless.

His mind was in a state of chaos.

He had spent half his life in the military, believing in courage, discipline, and the sword.

He had never thought that a war, or a defense, could be dismantled into such cold and precise numbers.

Fifty gold coins... this number was like a heavy hammer, smashing hard against his heart.

He thought of his brothers who had been injured or even died in battles with bandits because of worn-out equipment, and an indescribable sense of frustration welled up in his heart.

He realized that his proud military expertise was as crude and childish as a child's sandbox game in front of this man.

The carriage slowly came to a halt.

"My Lord, we have arrived," the coachman's voice came from outside.

Levi was the first to step out, followed closely by Evelyn.

Kaelan took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil in his heart, and jumped down as well.

The expected scene of a military camp with rows of spears did not appear.

Before him was merely a cleared forest glade.

Dozens of guards dressed in uniform black outfits, moving efficiently, were conducting drills on a simulated transport route.

They didn't shout earth-shattering slogans, nor were there any tedious formation drills.

Everything was quiet and efficient.

Kaelan saw that when a wagon loaded with ironwood arrived at a "hand-off point," two people immediately stepped forward. One used a strange Iron Hook to wedge the wheel and prevent it from sliding, while the other quickly checked the manifest and stamped it.

The entire process took no more than fifteen seconds.

Immediately, the escort squad split into two flanks, guarding the wagon as it continued forward in a formation that seemed loose but could instantly form crossfire.

Every person's movements were as precise as if measured with a ruler. Their coordination was perfectly synchronized, without any redundant actions or commands.

Efficiency—a pure, extreme efficiency that sent a chill down Kaelan's spine.

Even his most elite guards could never achieve such a level of coordination.

"What are they doing?" Kaelan couldn't help but ask.

"Practicing 'Standard Operating Procedures,' which we call SOP." Levi had stood beside him at some point, explaining in a flat tone, "From inventory checking and hand-off signatures to escort formations and ambush response, every link is broken down into dozens of independent action points. Each point has clear time and quality standards. They need to repeat these exercises hundreds of times a day until these movements become muscle memory."

He pointed to a large wooden board standing at the edge of the clearing not far away and made a "please" gesture to Kaelan.

Kaelan walked over skeptically.

A huge table was posted on the board, with the title reading: "Blackstone Logistics Security Team 3 Performance Review Table (KPI)."

Below were rows of indicators he had never seen before:

"Task Punctuality Rate: 98.5% (Target: 99%)"

"Cargo Integrity Rate: 100%"

"Customer (Forest Manager) Satisfaction Rating: 4.8 stars (Out of 5 stars)"

"Average Hand-off Time: 18 seconds (Target: 15 seconds)"

Each indicator was followed by a specific bonus coefficient.

At the very bottom of the table, a line of eye-catching large characters was written in red ink: "Team overall performance ranked first this month, bonus pool increased by 20%! Congratulations to all members of Team 3!"

Kaelan looked at the guards who were sweating from training yet beaming with excitement and drive, then looked at this table that quantified their every effort into money. He finally understood where the terrifying efficiency Levi spoke of came from.

This was not an army.

This was a precisely operating war machine driven by money and data.

"Sir Kaelan," Levi's voice sounded behind him, gentle and magnetic, "what City Lord Valerius can give you is honor and a badge that could be taken back at any time. But what I can give you is a stage where you can utilize everything you've learned in your life to its fullest."

Kaelan slowly turned around and saw Levi with a sincere smile on his face, handing him a parchment scroll sealed with wax.

"Personally, I would like to hire you as an Honorary Consultant for the 'Blackstone-Silvermoon Joint Shipping Security Project.' Your task is not to fight for me, but to use your expertise to optimize our escort routes, train security personnel, and reduce all unnecessary risks and losses. Simply put, it's to help both sides make money more efficiently."

Levi's gaze was clear and candid, as if what he proposed wasn't a plot for defection but a pure, respectful invitation to a professional.

"As for the compensation, I am willing to pay you three times your current annual salary. Additionally, one percent of the project's annual net profit will be your personal dividend. Sir, you don't need to betray Silvermoon City, nor do you even need to pledge loyalty to me. This is just a... part-time job that perfectly realizes your military talents."

Three times the annual salary.

A one-percent dividend.

A stage where he could put into practice all his ideas about tactics, logistics, and training, and see immediate returns.

This proposal, like a thunderclap from the abyss, roared in his mind.

Loyalty... honor... these principles he had believed in all his life were, at this moment, engaged in a frantic struggle with a demon named "self-actualization."

He felt his very soul trembling.

Sir Kaelan's heavy breathing echoed in the forest. His right hand, which had held a sword for years and was covered in thick calluses, gripped the hilt at his waist tightly.

His knuckles turned white from the force, making a "creaking" sound.

His gaze was fixed on Levi, his eyes filled with intense conflict: the anger of a warrior, the longing of an expert, and a hint of humiliation at having his inner thoughts seen through.

"Clang—"

A crisp sound of metal scraping broke the silence of the forest.

Sir Kaelan abruptly drew his longsword, the symbol of his glory and loyalty.