My Domain Runs on KPIs

Chapter 002

Grimjaw planted his battle-axe into the ground and dropped down in front of Luke.

“Keep talking.”

Every Orc present froze.

Their chief was infamous for his brutality.

And yet... he was actually letting this human live?

Luke ignored the stunned Orcs around him.

Internally, he let out a long breath of relief. The enormous weight pressing on his chest finally lifted.

His expression, however, remained perfectly composed.

He knew he had bought himself some time.

But that wasn’t enough.

He still needed a way to get out of here alive.

An hour later, Luke had been untied and escorted into a large tent that stood prominently in the center of the camp.

A bowl of meat stew sat in front of him.

Luke had absolutely no idea what kind of meat was floating inside it.

Wisely, he chose not to touch it.

He didn’t refuse it either.

He simply left it sitting there.

“So.”

The enormous Orc sitting across from him folded his arms.

His name was Grimjaw, and he was the chief commanding this entire Orc army.

“You said you could make my army stronger.”

“How?”

Luke didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he looked around the tent.

The canvas was torn and riddled with holes that let the wind whistle through. Filthy scraps of cloth covered the ground like carpets, giving off a foul stench. Outside the entrance, several Orc warriors lounged around with absolutely nothing to do.

Luke looked back at Grimjaw.

“How many people are in this army?”

Grimjaw lowered his head and thought about it.

“More than three thousand.”

Luke said nothing.

He waited.

Grimjaw stared back at him.

Luke continued waiting.

Grimjaw continued staring.

For several awkward seconds, the two simply looked at each other.

Luke finally cleared his throat.

“I mean, how many infantry do you have?”

“How many cavalry?”

“How many Orderlies?”

“How many elderly, women, and children?”

Understanding finally dawned on Grimjaw’s face.

“They’re all infantry. We don’t have cavalry.”

“The old ones, the women, and the children stayed with the tribe.”

“As for that... Orderly thing?”

He frowned.

“Don’t know what that is.”

Luke stared at him.

So he really knew absolutely nothing.

“What about your Chain of Command?”

Luke asked.

Grimjaw scratched his head.

“What’s that?”

Luke paused.

“How are your men divided?”

“Who is responsible for whom?”

“Who reports to whom?”

“Who gives orders to whom?”

Grimjaw blinked.

“Well...”

“I’m the strongest.”

“So everyone listens to me.”

Luke fell silent for several seconds.

Then, in an extremely restrained tone, he said,

“You have more than three thousand men under a single-layer management structure.”

“Your span of control isn’t just excessive.”

“It’s completely blown past the limit.”

Grimjaw frowned.

Luke continued.

“According to modern management theory, once a manager has more than seven direct reports, management efficiency begins dropping exponentially.”

“You have three thousand.”

Luke shook his head.

Then, with complete sincerity, he added,

“Frankly, the fact that this army still exists and hasn’t completely collapsed means you might actually be a genius.”

Grimjaw raised an eyebrow.

“I feel like you’re insulting me.”

“I’m stating a fact.”

Luke leaned back slightly.

“You can keep forcing things to work the way they are, but you already know the truth.”

“How many people can you actually command?”

“When a battle starts, can you genuinely give orders to three thousand people at the same time?”

Grimjaw went silent.

Because the answer was-

Less than two hundred.

And even those two hundred only obeyed him properly because they belonged to his own tribe.

The rest?

The moment fighting started, they simply charged forward in a mob.

If they won, great.

If they lost, they all turned around and ran in another mob.

That was when a dangerously tempting voice reached Grimjaw’s ears.

“I can fix that.”

Luke leaned forward, looking less like a prisoner and more like a businessman negotiating a deal that probably shouldn’t be legal.

“But I have conditions.”

Grimjaw stared at him.

“What conditions?”

“For one year, you are not allowed to invade my Domain.”

“And if my Domain is attacked during that year, you must provide military support.”

Luke raised one finger.

“And I want enough food to feed one hundred people for one month.”

Grimjaw rubbed his face.

He tried to hold it in.

He failed.

“Hahahaha!”

“Your Domain?”

“That place is so poor even bandits don’t want it!”

“I wasn’t planning to attack it in the first place.”

Grimjaw laughed even harder.

“And if someone actually decides your Domain is worth invading, I’d seriously question their intelligence.”

Luke’s face twitched.

There was something profoundly irritating about having an Orc question someone else’s intelligence.

After laughing for a while, Grimjaw finally composed himself.

His expression became serious.

“Fine.”

“I agree.”

“But if you lie to me-”

“You’ll rip my head off and turn it into a drinking cup.”

Luke finished the sentence for him.

Then he stood, walked over to the fire, and pulled out a piece of charcoal.

With one kick, he shoved aside the filthy strips of cloth pretending to be a carpet.

He crouched and began drawing on the exposed ground.

“Ten warriors form one squad.”

“Ten squads form one company.”

“Ten companies form one regiment.”

“And three regiments report directly to you.”

Luke drew a pyramid on the ground.

“That means you only need to directly manage three commanders.”

“Orders flow downward through each level.”

Grimjaw stared at the drawing for a long time.

Then he asked a surprisingly important question.

“How do I make sure these commanders are actually strong enough?”

Luke chuckled.

“Let the soldiers choose them.”

“If ten Orcs choose one person to lead them, that means there’s probably a reason those ten are willing to follow him.”

“One level follows the next.”

He tapped the pyramid with the charcoal.

“A hierarchy.”

Luke had no intention of introducing concepts like flat management structures or other modern organizational theories.

These Orcs weren’t remotely ready for that.

At their current level, management principles from a few thousand years ago would be more than enough.

Grimjaw stared at the pyramid again.

Then he asked the question he cared about most.

“How do I make sure all of them still obey me?”

“You retain veto power.”

Luke answered immediately.

“But I wouldn’t recommend using it casually. Overusing it will destroy morale.”

“And you’re still the chief.”

“There are plenty of ways to maintain control.”

Luke waved a hand.

“We can discuss those later.”

“More importantly...”

He looked at Grimjaw.

“Where’s my food?”

“Is it ready?”

Grimjaw smiled.

“Not that fast.”

“And right now, all you’ve done is talk.”

“That doesn’t exactly make you easy to trust.”

Luke narrowed his eyes slightly.

Grimjaw continued.

“Here’s what we’ll do.”

“I’ll give you one hundred Orcs.”

“You get two days to train them.”

“After two days, I’ll randomly choose another hundred Orcs.”

“The two groups fight.”

“If your hundred win...”

Grimjaw grinned.

“Then you’ve proven you were right.”

“I’ll honor our agreement and let you go.”

Luke’s trademark corporate smile froze on his face.

Only for a moment.

Then it returned as though nothing had happened.

“Fine.”

“But I need one strong warrior assigned to me temporarily.”

“And I want enough food to feed ten people for a month.”

Grimjaw changing the deal at the last second had caught Luke completely off guard.

Still, he accepted almost immediately.

Even in the worst-case scenario, he had just bought himself another two days of life.

Not a bad trade.

Grimjaw stood and reached outside the tent.

A moment later, he dragged another Orc inside.

The newcomer was taller than almost every Orc Luke had seen so far.

Only Grimjaw himself was bigger.

“This is my personal guard.”

Grimjaw gestured toward him.

“Dreadiron.”

Then he pointed at Luke.

“For now, you listen to him.”

Dreadiron gave a low grunt.

He said nothing else.

But his eyes never left Luke, studying him from head to toe.

“Don’t underestimate him.”

Grimjaw slapped Dreadiron lightly on the shoulder.

“Other than me, there’s no one he wouldn’t kill.”

Luke looked at Dreadiron.

Dreadiron stared back.

Luke decided not to test that claim.

“As for the food,” Grimjaw continued, “I’ll have it allocated.”

“Dreadiron has already picked out your hundred men.”

“He’ll take you to them.”

Luke rose and followed Dreadiron out of the tent.

Once they were gone, Grimjaw picked up his bowl and drained it in one gulp.

“You’re playing with fire.”

A raspy voice suddenly came from the shadows behind him.

An elderly Orc stepped into view.

He was small and thin, with a mask covering his face.

Grimjaw didn’t turn around.

“We don’t have a choice.”

He looked down at the untouched bowl Luke had left behind.

“Everyone’s starving.”

Grimjaw picked up Luke’s bowl and gulped down half the stew.

Then he handed the remaining half to the old Orc.

Outside the tent-

Luke stared at the hundred Orcs rampaging around the training ground like children who had just been released from school.

His mouth twitched.

This...

was going to be a long two days.