Kenji Tanaka took a steadying breath, clutching a newly inscribed shale tablet like a shield. The report etched onto its surface wasn't a grand indictment of General Gorgath's entire command, but a focused, surgical strike: 'Case Study: Viscera Viper Procurement vs. Standard Cursed Flail – A Comparative Analysis of Cost and Combat Effectiveness.' Armed with Gorgath's own fragmented records – exorbitant costs, alarming training casualty figures, field reports mentioning tangling issues more often than enemy casualties – Kenji felt he had a solid case. Not proof of corruption, perhaps, but irrefutable evidence of waste impacting effectiveness.

He wasn't naive enough to present this directly to Gorgath. The General would likely incinerate the report (and possibly the messenger) before the second sentence. Instead, Kenji, guided by Lyra’s astute political counsel, had requested another audience with Lord Valthor, framing it as an 'Update on Legion Efficiency Enhancements.' Crucially, he’d requested Gorgath be present.

The Obsidian Audience Chamber felt colder today, or perhaps it was just Kenji’s nerves. Valthor lounged on his throne, idly levitating a collection of mismatched, jeweled goblets. Gorgath stood rigidly beside the throne’s dais, radiating hostility like a furnace. His red eyes burned into Kenji as he approached. Zaltar was absent, likely deeming matters of mundane weaponry beneath his arcane notice.

"Overseer Tanaka," Valthor greeted him, a flicker of curiosity in his fiery eyes. "You requested my attention regarding your… sharpening of my legions' claws. Has your counting uncovered further insights? Or merely more dust?"

"My Lord," Kenji began, bowing while keeping a wary eye on Gorgath. "The initial audit into Legion Command's resource allocation has revealed significant opportunities for enhancing combat effectiveness through improved resource management. I wished to present a specific example."

He held up the shale tablet. "This analysis compares the 'Viscera Viper' specialized chain weapon, favored by certain commanders, with the standard-issue Cursed Flail."

Gorgath shifted, his armor grating. "The Viper is a fearsome weapon! It strikes terror!"

"It also strikes the wielder with alarming frequency, General," Kenji countered, keeping his tone level. "According to training logs from your own command, the Viper has a self-injury rate nearly forty percent higher than the Flail during basic drills." He pointed to a crudely drawn graph comparing incident rates. "Furthermore, procurement costs are over fifteen times higher per unit." Another graph illustrated the stark cost difference. "And field reports consistently cite 'control issues' and 'entanglement' as hindering factors, while the Cursed Flail, though less… dramatic, remains a reliable and effective infantry weapon."

He summed up, looking directly at Valthor. "My Lord, allocating significant resources to procure and maintain the Viscera Viper yields demonstrably poor returns in combat effectiveness compared to cheaper, more reliable alternatives. This represents a misallocation of funds that could be used to better equip more troops with proven weaponry, ultimately weakening the Legion's overall fighting potential."

He framed it purely in terms of effectiveness, avoiding accusations of vanity or favoritism directed at Commander Malakor the Flayer, the Viper's main proponent.

Valthor studied the shale tablet, surprisingly intrigued by the graphs. "Forty percent self-injury?" He chuckled darkly. "Malakor always did favor flash over function. Fifteen times the cost… for a whip that bites its own master?" He looked at Gorgath. "General, the accountant raises a valid point. Dead warriors, whether killed by the enemy or their own ludicrous flails, do not win battles. Nor do exorbitant weapons that fail to perform."

Gorgath bristled. "The Viper has its uses! Psychological impact—"

"Is irrelevant if the wielder guts himself before reaching the enemy!" Valthor snapped, his amusement fading. "Overseer Tanaka's logic is sound. Resources wasted on ineffective folly are resources denied to true strength." He made a decisive gesture. "Effective immediately: cease all procurement of Viscera Vipers. Existing stockpiles may be used – perhaps for particularly disliked penal battalions – but no further funds shall be wasted on Malakor’s self-flagellating folly. Reallocate the saved resources towards standard Cursed Flail production and maintenance."

Kenji felt a surge of triumph. A direct hit. He had used Gorgath's own data, framed the argument in terms Valthor understood (effectiveness and results), and won a concrete victory against wasteful spending.

Gorgath looked apoplectic, but he couldn't argue against Valthor’s direct command, especially one based on improving combat effectiveness. He gave Kenji a look that promised immense, painful retribution later, but remained silent.

Emboldened, Kenji decided to press his advantage. "My Lord, this highlights a broader issue. Procurement seems driven by individual commander preference rather than standardized assessment of need and effectiveness. Furthermore, supply chain logistics appear… inconsistent. Resources allocated often fail to reach the intended frontline units efficiently."

He held up another piece of shale, this one showing a simplified, nightmarish flowchart depicting the current supply route for something basic like replacement spearheads, involving multiple hand-offs, unverified storage depots, and opportunities for 'leakage' at every stage.

"I propose three key reforms to address these systemic weaknesses," Kenji declared, channeling every ounce of corporate presentation skill he possessed.

"One: Standardized Equipment. Establish baseline equipment standards for common troop types – infantry, skirmishers, basic cavalry. Focus procurement on reliable, cost-effective designs. Specialized equipment requests must undergo rigorous cost-benefit analysis before approval, based on demonstrable battlefield need, not commander whim."

"Two: Optimized Supply Routes. Centralize supply chain management under Treasury oversight"—he saw Gorgath stiffen—"Map out efficient routes, establish secure depots with proper inventory control, implement tracking mechanisms – perhaps simple enchanted tags – to monitor resource flow from source to frontline unit."

"Three: Basic Performance Metrics. Introduce simple, measurable Key Performance Indicators—"

"Kay Pee Eyes?" Valthor interrupted, frowning. "More of your strange numerical witchcraft?"

"Key Performance Indicators, my Lord," Kenji clarified quickly. "Ways to measure effectiveness. For supply chains, this could be 'delivery time' or 'resource loss percentage.' For units, perhaps 'equipment readiness levels' or 'casualty rates relative to objective achieved.' Simple metrics to identify where systems are failing or succeeding, allowing for data-driven improvements."

He finished, heart pounding. He wasn't just suggesting tweaks now; he was proposing a fundamental overhaul of Gorgath’s logistical domain and introducing concepts utterly alien to demonic military thought.

Gorgath exploded. "Standardized gear?! My commanders know best what their troops need! Centralized supply?! You want your ink-stained clerks dictating logistics to my battle-hardened quartermasters?! Performance metrics?! You want to measure the valor of my warriors with your pathetic 'Kay Pee Eyes'? This is madness! It will cripple the legions! Demoralize the commanders! It's an insult to centuries of glorious demonic warfare!"

"Glorious demonic warfare appears to involve significant friendly fire from fancy whips and legions running out of basic supplies due to theft and incompetence, General," Kenji retorted sharply, momentarily losing his caution in the heat of the argument. "Standardization ensures reliability. Centralized logistics ensures resources reach the troops who need them. And performance metrics allow us to identify and fix problems before they lead to disaster, like the recent payroll crisis!"

"This scribe seeks to usurp my authority, Valthor!" Gorgath roared, turning to the Demon Lord. "He wants to run my legions from behind a desk!"

Valthor watched the exchange, a thoughtful, almost calculating look in his eyes. He tapped his clawed fingers together. "Standard gear… centralized supply… measuring results…" He seemed to mull over the concepts. "There is a certain… ruthless logic to it. Waste is weakness. Confusion is vulnerability."

He looked at Gorgath. "General, your resistance is noted. However, the Overseer’s mandate is clear. His objective is to strengthen my forces through efficiency." He then looked at Kenji. "Overseer, your proposals are ambitious. Radical, even. Implementing them across the entire Legion structure at once could indeed cause disruption, as the General fears."

Valthor leaned forward. "Therefore, we shall proceed… incrementally. A pilot program. Select one Legion – perhaps one known for logistical challenges or inconsistent performance. Implement your standardized basic equipment protocols, your optimized supply routes, and your… 'Kay Pee Eyes'… within that single Legion. Overseer Tanaka will manage the resource allocation and tracking for this pilot. General Gorgath," he fixed the fuming general with a hard stare, "you will ensure the commander of the chosen Legion cooperates fully. No interference. No sabotage. We will observe this pilot program for three cycles. Measure the results. If Tanaka's methods prove effective, we expand them. If they fail, or cause undue chaos…" He left the consequences unspoken but clear.

Kenji felt a wave of relief mixed with trepidation. A pilot program! It was more than he’d hoped for. A chance to prove his concepts on a manageable scale. But failure would be catastrophic, confirming Gorgath’s objections and likely ending Kenji’s career and possibly his existence.

Gorgath ground his teeth but nodded stiffly. "As you command, Lord Valthor. Which Legion shall suffer this… experiment?"

Valthor waved a hand dismissively. "Details. Overseer, you may choose. Select a unit suitable for your purposes." He looked bored again. "Now, this talk of logistics has become tedious. Leave me."

As they walked back to the archive, Gorgath stalking furiously ahead without a word, Lyra spoke quietly. "A significant victory, Overseer. A pilot program provides the opportunity you need."

"And a massive risk," Kenji sighed. "Choosing the right Legion is crucial. Too successful, and Gorgath might sabotage it out of spite. Too troubled, and failure is almost guaranteed." He shook his head. "And even with this, we haven't addressed the personnel side. All the optimized logistics in the world won't help if the troops are too busy fighting each other or deserting."

He thought about Pip the Goblin, about the harsh, unfair conditions, the arbitrary brutality of Sergeant Grok. He thought about the 'ghost soldiers' – resources vanishing while real minions starved. An idea began to form, another borrowed concept from his corporate life, adapted for this brutal reality.

"Lyra," he said thoughtfully. "You mentioned infighting and low morale are persistent issues. What mechanisms currently exist for common soldiers – goblins, orcs, imps – to report grievances? Unfair treatment by superiors, stolen rations, faulty equipment?"

Lyra tilted her head. "Grievances? A minion's lot is generally considered one of hardship. Complaints are typically met with disciplinary action. Survival depends on strength, cunning, or staying unnoticed."

"That's incredibly inefficient," Kenji stated flatly. "Internal conflict wastes energy and manpower. Fear might motivate in the short term, but it breeds resentment and reduces loyalty. What if there was a… confidential channel? A way for minions to report serious issues – theft, corruption, undue brutality – without immediate fear of retribution?"

Lyra looked skeptical. "Confidentiality is a rare commodity here, Overseer. And who would adjudicate such claims? Trust is even rarer."

"The Treasury," Kenji said immediately. "My office. Frame it as 'Resource Misappropriation Reporting.' If a sergeant is stealing rations, that's theft of Citadel resources. If defective equipment causes unnecessary casualties due to negligence, that's destruction of Citadel assets. If excessive brutality incapacitates productive minions, that's reducing workforce efficiency." He was thinking aloud, adapting HR concepts into demonic bureaucratic language. "We could set up designated 'reporting points' – maybe magically secured drop boxes near the barracks, monitored only by Treasury imps – like our own Squad 7."

"You propose creating… an anonymous tip line? For goblin grievances?" Lyra sounded dubious but intrigued.

"Framed as protecting Citadel resources and improving operational readiness," Kenji confirmed. "We wouldn't promise immediate solutions for every complaint. But investigating credible reports of resource misuse – stolen supplies, deliberate equipment sabotage, commanders crippling their own units through excessive punishment – could allow us to tackle corruption at the lower levels, improve morale slightly, and maybe even gather useful intelligence on problematic officers."

It was another gamble. It could be ignored completely. It could be seen as weakness. Or it could provide a valuable pressure valve, a way to address the simmering resentment Kenji sensed among the lowest ranks, the resentment Pip embodied. And subtly improving minion morale might just make them slightly more receptive to his other, larger reforms.

"It's unconventional," Lyra mused. "But the potential benefits… reduced internal losses, improved troop stability, intelligence gathering… It aligns with the goal of overall efficiency." She nodded slowly. "Worth attempting, perhaps on a limited scale initially, alongside the Legion pilot program. We can designate Imp Squad 7 to manage the collection points."

Kenji felt a spark of cautious optimism. KPIs for Kobolds, standardized pitchforks, optimized supply routes, and now… an HR department for Hell's minions, disguised as resource protection. He was trying to rebuild the entire demonic military structure based on principles learned in a Tokyo office building.

He looked at the vast, chaotic archive around him, at the mountain of work still ahead. It was insane. It was impossible. But he had survived another day, won another small victory, and now had a plan, however audacious.

The long haul continued, one efficiency report, one standardized spearhead, one confidential goblin complaint at a time.