Chapter 129

Yoo Se-byeol was working on paperwork in her office.

She had a strong image as someone energetic who loved physical activity, but in reality, she spent more time sitting at a desk than swinging a sword. This was because she had to take on the workload intended for two people—the Commander and the Deputy Commander—all by herself.

Occasionally, Kang Ha-neul would assist her as an adjutant by attending meetings, but his primary role was training recruits, and he wasn’t exactly known for processing administration quickly.

“Hmm, the report on the Special-Class monster Francoise requested by the European guilds is…”

She furrowed her fine brow, rummaging through a drawer to find a report written back when Division 3 entered the Necropolis. Beneath the desk, her feet—clad in indoor slippers—ticked back and forth leisurely.

Since sudden deployments were frequent even during administrative work, Yoo Se-byeol usually wore the combat boots issued with her uniform during duty hours. However, starting about six months ago, she began strictly separating her indoor and outdoor footwear.

Furthermore, she showed meticulous care for the cleanliness of her feet, shortening the replacement cycle of her socks and even using a dedicated shampoo when washing them.

It was truly a lamentable and tragic development.

By all rights, the foot is the most aesthetically sculpted part of the human body. Its value is best preserved when left in its natural state, without any artificial management.

The texture of a sole that has run diligently across mountains and roads, trapped inside humid shoes—and even the angle of toenails clumsily trimmed while sitting in a chair after a bath with knees tucked to the chest—everything about it was the pinnacle of magecraft and ultimate beauty that humanity should strive for.

Licking a foot smeared with chemical products only allows contempt to sprout.

So, please, stop washing your feet.

As the Apostle of the Outer God seeking the Star Scar, I vowed that today was the day I would finally convey these words to Yoo Se-byeol.

Of course, emerging from my hiding spot to appear before her came first.

“Ugh, next is devising a way to catch the culprit who’s been habitually stealing the foot shampoo stocked in the training ground showers recently…”

“Deputy Commander, I have something to say.”

“Kyaak!? Y-you scared me! Hayan? What are you doing there…!”

She jumped in fright as I appeared, opening the central panel of the system air conditioner in the office ceiling. It was a sort of emergency passage I’d discovered by chance while crawling through the ceiling of an elevator back when I was captured by Division 2.

The web-like vents and maintenance tunnels spanned every nook and cranny of the Bureau. Recently, I’d spent my own money to expand these areas during the early morning hours, making them viable not just for travel but for resting, spying, skipping training, slacking off, and cutting the line at the cafeteria.

Normally, I had no intention of revealing the existence of this “tentacle tunnel,” but the situation was urgent.

Dropping upside down from the ceiling like a ninja, I prostrated myself at her feet and spoke.

“Catching a shampoo thief isn’t what’s important right now.”

“Of course it isn’t! Someone is crawling through my office ceiling—what could be more important than that?!”

“Have you forgotten that the promotion evaluation is approaching?”

“Pr-promotion evaluation? Well, that’s true, but…”

Even after hearing about the evaluation, Yoo Se-byeol wasn’t particularly shaken. The quarterly regular evaluation was merely another task on her to-do list.

“I get it. You came here to request a duel, didn’t you?”

“Pardon?”

She naturally accepted the unique advancement system that distinguished our unit from others. Having lived and breathed with the members of Division 3—who would draw their swords the moment they made eye contact during a hot summer—she simply viewed it as a period where many duel requests came in.

“Well, you haven’t exactly been a ‘role model’ for the unit members lately. During the recent Magic Tower raid, you were away in Busan and missed the front lines.”

Yoo Se-byeol adjusted her shoes with an expectant look in her eyes.

Being a ‘role model’ was a sort of code phrase we used when fulfilling the oath we’d made.

“Since the chaotic events like the Archduke’s manifestation and the appearance of sentient Special-Class monsters have passed, there haven’t been many chances to shine. I find it quite touching that you’re trying to use the unit’s annual event.”

“…….”

“If there’s a position you’re aiming for within the unit, Hayan, and you work hard to achieve results, that in itself would be a role model for others. And who knows? If you challenge me, even if you lose, your sincerity might be so touching that I’d let you lick my feet…”

“No, I didn’t come to request a duel from you, Deputy Commander. Nor from anyone else.”

“What? Then…?”

Had she naturally assumed I would challenge her, let alone the other seniors? Yoo Se-byeol looked more than a little surprised.

I felt bad for betraying her expectations, but with Gargantua held hostage, my job wasn’t to fight her. Rather, it was to pretend to be on her side while distracting her.

“You’re going to be receiving challenges from other members, aren’t you?”

“Probably? I’m not sure about this year, but a few always show up every year.”

“I came here because I thought it would be difficult for you to handle duels while being so busy with work. I thought I might be of some help.”

“Help? Specifically, in what way?”

Because I was doing this under duress from the seniors’ threats, I, who was born with a heart more fragile than anyone else’s, couldn’t look her in the eye and speak confidently. Instead, I kept my head bowed and opened my mouth.

“Could you appoint me as your temporary adjutant during the promotion evaluation period?”

I spoke while staring at her toes, which were wiggling inside her slippers, instead of her innocent eyes.

First instruction:

During the promotion evaluation period, handle all miscellaneous tasks so that Deputy Commander Yoo Se-byeol can focus entirely on her duels.

Following the instructions on the note, I first tackled the paperwork that had been bothering her. No matter how much of an evaluation period it was, regular duties couldn’t be pushed aside, so if Yoo Se-byeol was busy, she obviously couldn’t just spend her time idly swinging a sword.

“I’ll compile the documents by agenda and hand them to you, so you just need to stamp them, Deputy Commander.”

“Will you be okay? You’ve never done work like this before, Hayan.”

It was true, but I’d learned by watching over her shoulder, so it wasn’t difficult.

The system air conditioner in the ceiling wasn’t just in Yoo Se-byeol’s office; they were installed in the offices of all the other Commanders as well.

The workflow of the Special Unit Commanders was already completely mapped out in my head. In particular, Commander Ha Yeri’s meticulous and easy-to-read processing style was something even I, a total layman in paperwork, could easily emulate.

“Here is the agenda regarding the difficulty adjustment for the Necropolis. Since the boss inside the Gate suddenly vanished recently, it’s been reported that the four knights who were sealing the boss are now acting freely.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Through negotiations with Baek-seon-nim, it would be best to keep about half of them stationed in the temple basement to be used as new educational materials to improve the agents’ skills. Additionally, we should request the Bureau to investigate why the Gate isn’t collapsing despite the disappearance of the boss.”

“Ah, okay.”

Using transparent tentacles, I sorted through mountains of documents, levitating them in mid-air. I considered the optimal response Division 3 could take for each issue, then either rejected or approved them. Yoo Se-byeol, letting out constant exclamations of admiration, only had to scribbling her name on the papers I handed over.

It took less than an hour to neatly organize and finalize the towering pile of papers.

“Hayan, you’re smarter than you look.”

“Is that so? I only finished elementary school, so I wouldn’t know.”

“A ro… a role model—I mean, you were a big help. Truly.”

“Thank you. Then, let’s move on to the next item.”

“Next?”

“Yes. According to the daily schedule written on your desk, there’s an internal patrol of the Bureau. I’ll be accompanying you.”

Internal patrols were light duties usually assigned to rookies or agents who had recently returned from injury. It was likely a decision made to be considerate of the overworked Yoo Se-byeol.

Normally, she would have refused a mere patrol to use the free time for other missions, but from my perspective, this was actually better. The second instruction the seniors had given me was to keep her inside the Bureau as much as possible.

Naturally, if she went on a business trip or did outside activities, she couldn’t receive duel requests. Therefore, by having Yoo Se-byeol simply wander the hallways idly, many people would gain the chance to challenge her.

“Now, shall we?”

“Hayan!?”

When I reached out my hand, she looked more than a little flustered. The note the seniors gave me stated that it was only natural for a Commander and Deputy Commander to hold hands during a patrol.

I wasn’t an idiot; I scoffed at the idea, having never seen such a sight in any other unit. But all I got in return was the pained groan of Gargantua. To stop the seniors from pouring cheap fodder into the bowl of a creature that only eats Blue Magic Stones, I had to follow instructions with tears in my eyes.

“W-we don’t have to hold hands!”

“I cannot allow that. I am your adjutant, after all.”

“But walking around like this is…”

“I see, you want something more comfortable. Then, shall I fulfill the promise we made back in the Tower of Proof right now?”

I had indeed promised to give her a piggyback ride once. The moment I mentioned that promise, she began to turn bright red from her neck up.

“Wh-what is wrong with you today, seriously?”

“Do you dislike it?”

“It’s not that I dislike it… b-but let’s just go for now. To somewhere with as few people as possible so we can finish quickly.”

After some twists and turns, I ended up patrolling with her alone. It was essentially a walk around the headquarters—a task so simple even Seona in her wheelchair could do it. There was a merit to looking around department sectors I only knew by name or warehouses filled with materials that I rarely visited. It would be helpful when deciding where to expand the tentacle tunnels later.

By the way, why are there so few people? Duel requests should be coming in by now. I heard the seniors of Division 3 were stationed everywhere to feign a chance encounter, like a Pokemon battle.

However, the corridor we were walking through was strangely quiet—enough so that Yoo Se-byeol, whose hand I was holding, let out a sigh of relief. Surely my Gargantua hasn’t become a corpse already?

As I looked at my empty wrist, she, walking beside me, asked, “Come to think of it, where did your smartwatch go?”

“Ah, that… I lost it by mistake. I woke up and it was gone.”

“Did you report it stolen?”

“I plan to do so soon.”

Without a smartwatch, my duty hours might not be recognized. Yoo Se-byeol gave me a light scolding, saying she would write the paperwork for me later.

“You really are clumsy in the strangest ways. At this rate, you’re ten years too early to be my adjut—hm?”

Right then. Someone appeared at the end of the hallway. At first, I thought it was Alexei or another senior, but it was someone else.

“Yeon-hwa?”

“What are you doing?”

“Why is Yeon-hwa here… are you on internal patrol?”

“No, earlier the Division 3 guys called me, saying there was an emergency. They said you lost something and were looking for it.”

It was the Word-Spirit user No Yeon-hwa, who had reached the Upper Level during the Great Invasion and was slated for promotion in this evaluation.

“But what exactly are you two doing right now?”

The moment she saw my hand clasped with Yoo Se-byeol’s, her irritation index soared far beyond measurable levels.