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Surprisingly, the northern faction had decided to sit back and watch, so a peaceful routine continued for a while, but my workload kept growing day by day.
There were meetings and mediations between the governors, as well as troubles to resolve within the city of Lüenheit.

“Hey, you guys, what’s going on with that delicious smell wafting out of the barracks?”

When I popped my head into the Belrüsa Landing Force barracks, those mohawks were in the middle of cooking, wearing aprons.
Captain Griz, wielding a menacing club, answered while pounding away at a chunk of meat.

“Can’t you tell just by looking? We’re cooking, that’s what we’re doing.”
“Aren’t you guys soldiers?”

Then the mohawks all shouted in unison.

“We wanna eat Belrüsa food!”
“We miss the seafood!”
“Just let us eat what we want!”

What the hell is wrong with these guys?
But I understood the situation.
You can’t get Belrüsa-style seafood dishes in Lüenheit. That’s because they can’t get fresh seafood there.
So they’ve been using ingredients from Lüenheit to cook Belrüsa-style dishes.

I wouldn’t have a problem if that’s all they did.

“Why are you guys renovating the barracks to turn them into a restaurant?”

Somehow, a restaurant (an illegal structure) had opened right next to the barracks, and the citizens of Lüenheit were coming to eat there, albeit nervously.
Then Griz and the others laughed.

“What can we do? It’s delicious!”
“Y’see Boss Veit, the Belrüsa sauce is the best!”
“It’s fun because tomatoes grow well here, too!”
“And the chili peppers too!”
“Hey, you lot! Four servings of spicy chicken stewed in tomato sauce! Deliver it to the Raffold Trading Company in the Old Town ASAP—don’t mess this up!”
“Yee-haw, customers!”

That’s not an answer.
Actually, don’t take orders. Are you even doing delivery now?
Since they seem to have fully blended into life in the Demon Capital, I’ll just let them do as they please.

“Fine, whatever. Give me the roast duck lunch. Three servings.”
“Aye, an order from Boss Veit! Hurry up, you b̲a̲s̲t̲a̲r̲d̲s̲!”

After finishing my light lunch and returning to the Old Town, trouble was already waiting for me.
There’s a Council meeting today.
There were no particular issues with the governors’ activity reports.
The trading city of Schaldir had succeeded in attracting desert nomads, and some had settled down and volunteered for the guard.
A high-ranking official had visited the craft city of Veiria, ostensibly to commission a design from a northern Governor… but really to build connections with the Council.
Every governor is contributing to the Federation’s development by leveraging their areas of expertise.

The problem is the friction between the cities.

“Listen up, Veit!”

Garsche, the pirate-like man serving as the Governor of Belrüsa, loomed over me, so I nodded while leaning back slightly.

“What’s up?”
“Lotzo’s fishing boats have been coming all the way out to the waters off Belrüsa to fish! Even if we chase them away, they keep coming back! Can’t we just sink them already!?”

Then, Old Man Petore, the Governor of Lotzo, crossed his arms with a sour look on his face.

“Hmph, they’ve just drifted in a bit by mistake due to the currents.”
“Don’t lie—they’ve been coming here every single day lately!”
“Stop whining. If that’s the case, why don’t you just stretch a line out across the sea?”
“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

Why do I have to mediate this nonsense?

“You should just discuss it between the two cities like we always have.”

But both of them shook their heads.

“Rather than making arbitrary decisions, wouldn’t it be clearer to settle this in the Council?”
“Put it on a vote if you want, Lotzo’s legitimacy will be proven.”

Ah, so Old Man Petore has been laying the groundwork.
When I saw Aram, the Governor of Schaldir, quickly looking away, I was certain. Forne, the Governor of Veiria, was also smirking.
Shatina, the Governor of Zaria, was about to stand up to speak her mind, but Forne grabbed her by the scruff of the neck with a smile.
It seems the folks from the East are backing Lotzo and making backroom deals.

As for the demon governors, it seems they weren’t consulted beforehand; Firniel and Senior Marlene are comparing documents outlining both sides’ arguments.
Only Aylia looked at me and gave a faint, wry smile. It seems she’s been consulted by Garsche.
So, as things stand, it’s confirmed: four votes for Lotzo, two for Belrüsa.
At this rate, Belrüsa is definitely at a disadvantage. Since their fishing grounds are being ravaged, I do feel a bit sorry for them.

I don’t really want to take sides too strongly, but I’ve decided to support Belrüsa this time.
Old Man Petore is trying to figure out the fine line—just how far he can push the envelope the Council sanctions him..

“If you say there’s no line drawn, then it’s okay for Belrüsa’s warships to enter Lotzo’s aquaculture facility, right?”

I’ve heard that Lotzo is farming high-grade edible shellfish with the cooperation of the Demon Lord’s Army. Apparently, it’s still in the experimental stage, but it’s likely to bring in a fortune in the future.

Garsche laughed.

“Oh, that’s great! We’ve got more warships than Lotzo! We’ll steal the whole lot!”

Old Man Petore made a sour face, but he exchanged a glance with me for just a split second and sighed.

“So you’ve taken the biggest prize. …Well, I suppose there’s no helping it. I’ll tell the young ones to be careful around the fishing grounds from now on.”

At those words, Garsche looked puzzled.

“Huh? You gave in surprisingly easily, old man.”

Petore put on a composed expression and gave a faint smile.

“It’s nothing. Give it a second thought, and you’d see our side is partly to blame, too.”
“Hey! That smile means you’re planning to pull something again, don’t you!?”

　If I side with Belrüsa, there’s a chance that Senior Marlene and Firniel will follow suit. That means up to three votes could shift.
In that case, it would be five votes for Belrüsa against four for Lotzo. A victory for Belrüsa.
Resolutions are legally binding and are officially recorded as precedents. Losing a resolution would cause significant damage going forward.
That’s why he intends to step back for now and leave this matter ambiguous.
What a sneaky old snake.

The human governors get along like family and help each other out when needed. Their cooperative framework is particularly well-established in the military sphere.
But they almost never forget their position as “city representatives.”
Since they bear the weight of so many citizens’ lives, they can’t afford to just spout platitudes.
That’s why they maneuver skillfully to serve local interests, and in the economic sphere—which directly affects citizens’ lives—troubles arise constantly.
Even though I was born a werewolf, human relationships are still a pain in the neck.

But once the council meeting is over, I can go back to our usual laid-back gatherings.

“Alright, let’s have dinner in the town of Lüenheit tonight.”

Garsche said that as the meeting was wrapping up, so I shook my head.

“Having all the governors dine together in town poses way too many security risks.”

He grinned.

“Ha ha ha, don’t worry! There’s a restaurant that couldn’t be safer. It’s the ultimate restaurant, guarded by five hundred skilled fighters!”

Ah, I get it now.

Garsche, playing it up, announced to the group:

“Let’s all enjoy a fusion of Belrüsa cuisine and Lüenheit ingredients. It’s on me tonight!”

So it’s that place after all.
Everyone except me and Aylia looks intrigued.

“You’re doing something interesting, aren’t you? I see, food huh. Maybe Lotzo should open a shop here in the Demon Capital too.”
“Oh, if it’s a cultural venture, let Veiria join in too.”
“Senior, I’m looking forward to dinner.”

I just had lunch there today, you know…