Kenji Tanaka was finally starting to feel like he was making headway, however minuscule. The first reports from his trial cost-cutting measures were trickling in, translated by Lyra from runic notations on charred scraps of parchment delivered by nervous-looking imps. The illumination wards in the designated archive section had, according to arcane energy readers Zaltar hadn’t bothered securing, reduced ambient power drain by a measurable, if unimpressive, 3.7%. Sealing the West Wing access had lowered the demand on the central heating forge by approximately 5.1%, though Castellan Drokk had also filed a complaint about displaced tunnel-vermin migrating to warmer sections. And Imp Squad 7, reassigned from contemplative bone polishing, had actually managed to sort and stack nearly two dozen scrolls in the archive without incinerating more than a handful.

It wasn't much. Compared to the gaping maw of the kingdom's deficit, it was like trying to bail out a sinking battleship with a teaspoon. But it was progress. It was quantifiable data proving his methods could work. He was compiling these initial findings into a concise report for Valthor (heavy on percentages and potential long-term gains, light on the actual pathetic sums saved so far) when Lyra entered his makeshift office, her usual composure strained.

"Accountant Tanaka," she began, her voice lacking its usual melodic calm. "A matter of… considerable urgency has arisen."

Kenji looked up from his parchment, a knot of unease tightening in his stomach. Lyra didn't do 'urgency' lightly. "What is it, Lyra? Did Gorgath decide his requisition couldn't wait? Did Zaltar accidentally unravel reality again?"

"Worse," Lyra stated flatly. "It is nearing the end of the current lunar cycle. The Sustenance Disbursement for the primary legions is due in three rotations."

Kenji frowned, trying to recall the chaotic lists of expenditures. "Sustenance Disbursement? Is that the… soul rations and procured foodstuffs line item?"

"Precisely," Lyra confirmed. "It's the primary allocation of resources required to keep the bulk of General Gorgath's armies fed and minimally functional. Failure to meet the disbursement schedule has historically led to… significant unrest."

"Unrest?" Kenji repeated, a cold dread creeping up his spine. "You mean riots? Desertions?"

"Among the lesser ranks, yes," Lyra clarified coolly. "Among the mid-tier demonic soldiery and brigade commanders, 'unrest' typically manifests as challenging superiors, unsanctioned raiding of nearby territories – including our own – and occasionally, marching on the Citadel to demand satisfaction directly from Lord Valthor. Or his administration." She looked pointedly at Kenji.

Kenji swallowed hard. He remembered the sheer, terrifying presence of General Gorgath. Imagining thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of similar, hungry demons descending on the Citadel was a nightmare scenario. "Okay," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Okay, payroll panic. I’ve dealt with cash flow crises before. What's the total disbursement required, and what's the current balance in the treasury?"

Lyra consulted a thin, dark crystal tablet that shimmered with faint figures. "The standard disbursement requires approximately eighty thousand Kilo-Souls of energy value, supplemented by thirty tonnes of assorted biomass – procured meat, fungal harvests, et cetera. The current accessible balance in the Central Under-Vault is…" She paused, her lips thinning. "…estimated at twelve thousand Kilo-Souls and approximately two tonnes of rapidly spoiling fungal matter."

Kenji stared at her, his blood running cold. "Twelve thousand? Out of eighty thousand? That's… that's less than fifteen percent! How is that possible? Where did everything go?"

"Lord Valthor requisitioned a significant sum two rotations ago for 'Contingency Celebrations' following a minor border skirmish he deemed a glorious victory," Lyra explained tonelessly. "Magus Zaltar's recent experiments with Void Harmonics required an unscheduled infusion of twenty thousand Kilo-Souls to stabilize the containment field after a… minor breach. General Gorgath's Skull Taker Brigade undertook an expedition – results as yet unreported – which consumed supplies far exceeding projections. And the anticipated tribute from the Mirefang Lizardmen is overdue, presumed lost or embezzled en route."

It was a perfect storm of Valthor's whimsy, Zaltar's reckless spending, Gorgath's operational overruns, and basic logistical failure. Kenji felt a surge of hysterical laughter bubble up, which he quickly suppressed. Panic wouldn't help. Action was needed.

"Three rotations," he muttered, grabbing a fresh sheet of parchment. "That's… how long in standard hours?"

"Approximately seventy-two Earth hours," Lyra supplied, having quickly adapted to his frame of reference.

"Okay. Seventy-two hours to find roughly sixty-eight thousand Kilo-Souls and twenty-eight tonnes of biomass." Kenji’s mind kicked into high gear, the familiar adrenaline rush of a crisis overriding his fear. "Right. Forecasting. Lyra, we need every scrap of data on potential income within the next three rotations. Any scheduled tribute arrivals? Any ongoing raids due to return with plunder? Any assets we can liquidate quickly?"

What followed was a frantic scramble through the chaotic records, even worse than their initial assessment. Lyra dispatched shadowy messengers, grilled lower-level clerks, and cross-referenced dubious promises recorded on blood-pacts. Kenji built a rudimentary cash flow forecast, mapping out known essential outgoings (Citadel power, Valthor's non-negotiable household upkeep) against potential income.

The picture remained bleak. A minor goblin tribe was due to deliver five hundred Kilo-Souls worth of polished skulls (useful for decoration, useless for payroll). A raiding party might return from the human borderlands, but their success was uncertain, and even if successful, processing plunder took time. Selling assets from the artifact vault was too slow and dangerous. His own cost-cutting measures? The savings were laughably small, barely enough to cover the ink he was using.

As they worked, the pressure mounted. A runner arrived, breathless, reporting skirmishes breaking out between Orcish battalions and Hobgoblin mercenaries in the outer barracks over dwindling food stores. Then Gorgath himself stormed into the archive, his presence sucking the air out of the room.

"Accountant!" he boomed, foregoing any preamble. "The legions grow restless! Whispers turn to growls! Assure me the disbursement will proceed on schedule!"

"General," Kenji said, standing his ground despite the tremor in his hands. "I am acutely aware of the deadline. The kingdom's financial state is… precarious. We are exploring all available options to meet the required allocation."

"Options?" Gorgath slammed a gauntleted fist onto Kenji’s work slab, cracking the stone. Scrolls jumped and rolled away. "There is only one option! Feed my legions! If they turn on the Citadel, scribe, your balanced books will not save you!" He wasn't just threatening Kenji; Kenji realized with a jolt that the General was genuinely afraid of losing control of his own armies. A hungry demon was loyal only to its hunger.

"I need accurate reports, General!" Kenji shot back, emboldened by desperation. "What about the Skull Taker expedition? Did they secure plunder? What are your actual minimum requirements to prevent mass desertion? Can some units have their disbursement deferred?"

Gorgath sputtered, clearly unused to being asked for details or compromises. "The Skull Takers… encountered complications. Minimal spoils. Minimums? All require sustenance! Deferral is weakness!" But the fact that he didn’t immediately threaten violence suggested the direness of the situation was overriding even his bluster. He eventually provided grudging, vague numbers about troop readiness and morale in different sectors before stomping out again, leaving Kenji with more questions than answers.

No sooner had Gorgath departed than another, more delicately terrifying, interruption occurred. A perfumed, silken message arrived via a fluttering, iridescent moth, bearing Lord Valthor’s looping, arrogant script.

Tanaka, it read, I require an immediate advance of fifteen thousand Kilo-Souls. I have conceived a delightful new fountain for the central courtyard – it shall spew molten gold instead of water! Procure the necessary geomancers and enchanted metals at once. Do not bore me with excuses.

Kenji stared at the message, feeling his sanity fray. A gold fountain? Now?

"Lyra," he said weakly. "How do I tell the Dark Lord who can shatter mountains that his solid gold fountain project has terrible timing?"

Lyra took the message, her expression unchanging. "Diplomacy with Lord Valthor often involves careful re-framing and strategic delay. Allow me." She dipped a fresh quill and began drafting a response, her script elegant yet firm. Kenji caught phrases like "prioritizing resource allocation for Legion stability," "ensuring foundations are sufficient for such a magnificent project," and "preliminary feasibility study initiated." It was masterful corporate deflection translated into demonic court language.

"This might buy us a rotation," Lyra said, handing the response to the waiting moth, which promptly dissolved into scented smoke. "But his Lordship's patience is finite."

Back to the numbers. Kenji’s forecast remained stubbornly, terrifyingly short. Even with the goblin tribute, potential (optimistic) raid spoils, and Lyra’s masterful stalling of Valthor, they were looking at a shortfall of at least forty thousand Kilo-Souls, plus the biomass.

He scoured the expenditure side again. What could be cut, even temporarily? Zaltar’s research? Kenji shuddered. Trying to claw back funds from the Magus now would be suicide and likely fruitless. Minor Citadel maintenance? Already cut to the bone. Payments to Valthor’s network of informants? Risky, could lose vital intelligence.

Wait. He looked again at the records Lyra had unearthed about kingdom revenues. Tribute payments. The Mirefang Lizardmen payment was lost, but there were others. Smaller tribes, minor demonic fiefdoms. One entry caught his eye: a debt owed to Valthor's predecessor by a clan of deep-earth Shadow Gnomes, recorded on a chained obsidian shard. It wasn't a regular tribute; it was a one-time payment for some forgotten transgression, long overdue. The amount was listed in archaic units, but Kenji quickly cross-referenced with Lyra.

"Twenty-five thousand Kilo-Souls," Kenji breathed. "It's substantial. But it's ancient. Why hasn't it been collected?"

Lyra examined the shard. "Shadow Gnomes are notoriously reclusive and deceitful. Collecting would require a dedicated expedition, likely costly and time-consuming. It was deemed… not worth the effort."

"It is now," Kenji stated firmly. "Can we send a demand? An immediate collection notice?"

"We can send an Enforced Collection Sigil," Lyra mused. "Magically binding, carries significant penalties for non-compliance. But it requires five hundred Kilo-Souls to activate, and there's no guarantee the Gnomes can pay immediately, even if compelled."

Five hundred K-S they barely had. Another gamble. Kenji looked at the rapidly advancing light pattern on the wall. Less than one rotation remained.

"Do it," Kenji decided. "Allocate the K-S. Send the Sigil. It's our best shot at closing a significant portion of the gap."

Lyra nodded and moved to prepare the ritual, her movements precise and economical.

Kenji turned back to his forecast. Even if the Gnomes paid instantly (highly unlikely), they were still short fifteen thousand K-S plus the biomass. Where could it come from?

He looked at the tiny savings from his trial programs. Pathetic. He looked at Gorgath's vague minimums. Risky. He thought about Valthor's 'Contingency Celebrations' funds – already spent.

Then, an idea sparked. Dangerous. Unconventional. Insulting, perhaps. But potentially feasible.

"Lyra," he called out, as she finished tracing the glowing Sigil onto a dark scroll. "The disbursement. Does it have to be entirely in Kilo-Souls and biomass?"

Lyra paused. "That is the traditional composition. Energy and physical sustenance."

"But what do the legions do with the K-S?" Kenji pressed. "Is it consumed directly? Or is it used as currency, to trade for goods, services, better equipment?"

"Both," Lyra admitted. "Direct absorption provides energy, but it's also the standard medium of exchange within the barracks and lower markets."

"So," Kenji reasoned, his mind racing, "if we provide less direct energy, but supplement it with something else of perceived value… something that boosts morale or provides a tangible benefit?"

"Such as?" Lyra asked, intrigued.

Kenji thought about his cost-cutting measures, about Gorgath’s complaints about equipment, about Pip the minion's perspective. "What if we made a partial disbursement in K-S – enough to prevent immediate starvation and collapse – but supplemented it with… vouchers? Vouchers redeemable for new equipment? Standard-issue weapons, better armor pieces, things procured efficiently using the centralized system I plan to implement?"

Lyra stared at him. "You want to pay the legions… with promissory notes for future equipment?"

"Not just notes," Kenji clarified quickly. "Tangible vouchers, backed by the Citadel Treasury – me – guaranteeing fulfillment within one cycle. We use the idea of improved gear, something Gorgath himself complains about, as a temporary substitute for pure energy. It addresses a need, boosts morale in a different way, and buys us time to actually get the K-S situation under control!"

It was insane. Paying demonic hordes with IOUs for better pitchforks. It could backfire spectacularly. They might see it as weakness, as trickery. Mutiny could erupt instantly.

But they were out of options. The light pattern crept closer to the deadline marker. The Collection Sigil sent to the Shadow Gnomes pulsed once, then faded – sent, but with no immediate response. They were still critically short.

"It is… unprecedented," Lyra said slowly. "Highly risky. But potentially… viable. If framed correctly. As a 'Special Equipment Bonus Initiative' acknowledging Legion contributions, perhaps."

"Exactly!" Kenji seized on the idea. "We spin it. An investment in their future effectiveness!"

He grabbed a fresh parchment, his quill flying. He calculated the absolute minimum K-S needed for immediate survival, based on Gorgath's reluctant figures. He calculated the 'value' of the equipment vouchers needed to make up the difference. He drafted instructions for printing the vouchers – magically binding, of course.

The final 'tick' of the rotation clock began. Messengers would be arriving soon, demanding the disbursement funds. The treasury was still disastrously short. The Shadow Gnomes hadn't responded. Valthor might demand his gold fountain money at any second. Gorgath was likely sharpening his axe.

Kenji looked at his desperate, patchwork plan – a combination of ancient debt collection, fractional energy payments, and glorified gift certificates for weapons. It was the most insane financial strategy he'd ever devised.

"Lyra," he said, his voice tight with tension. "Prepare the partial K-S transfer authorization. And start printing those vouchers. We're betting the kingdom on the perceived value of slightly better stabbing implements."

The fate of the Infernal Dominion, and Kenji's continued existence, now rested on a desperate forecast and the questionable appeal of demonic coupons. The deadline was here.