Day had long since turned to night, and Iführ counter was shrouded in a deadly silence that made the afternoon’s hustle and bustle seem unreal, and although it was long past business hours a single light still burned inside. There, in an office room with several desks lined up side by side and piles of papers scattered about, Alina was slumped over her desk which held a particularly large mountain of documents.
‘Aah, I’m so tireeeed…’
She squeezed out in a thin voice as she added a stack of processed commission forms to the mountain.
Alina was still wearing the receptionist’s uniform provided by the Guild, even though her shift at the counter had already ended. Taking advantage of the fact that there was no one else around, she had taken off her short boots and tied her black hair into a single bun.
There was a potion on the side of her desk, the kind of potion that all adventurers would be familiar with. Mostly used as a medicine to heal wounds, they are also believed to have a slight stimulating effect.
The others had long since gone home, but Alina stayed behind to deal with the colossal amount of overwork. That’s right. The dreaded overwork. The ordeal that befalls all those who can’t finish their assigned work during normal working hours.
In order to go home even a second earlier, Alina, engaged in her “serious mode”, dedicated herself to finishing the remaining work, but the mountain of documents that still needed to be processed loomed large in front of her.
‘I want to go home.’
Alina muttered.
I want to go home. I want to go home and never leave the house again.
She bemoaned her misfortune, but she had to put up with it. She couldn’t possibly leave before all the documents generated at the Iführ Counter today were tallied up which, in addition to processing the forms from the counter she was in charge of, was her duty.
She started working as a receptionist three years ago, at the age of fifteen. There’s a reason why Alina, who had only been on the job for three years and still lacked experience, was left with such a responsible task: the others were simply loath to work overtime, which in this occupation was almost guaranteed to come up if the counters were busy, as they were today, so they passed the work onto each other until it ended up in Alina’s lap.
It’s not like I want to do it.
Alina sobbed unintentionally. It was all so unfair.
She vigorously gulped down the potion, that devilish drink that makes feel better, and stared at the still monstrous pile of unprocessed documents. The mere sight of that brutal height was enough to break Alina’s spirit.
‘There’s no end in sight.’
There is a limit to what the human body can take, no matter how much you try to trick it with potions.
The amount of paperwork from the last few days which couldn’t be dealt with by overwork alone just kept piling up, with no sign of it reducing. It was clear she couldn’t keep up.
‘All of it… All of it is the fault of that boss!’
Muttering a low curse Alina turned over the single form set apart from the others, the one Ganz accepted today. The request for the defeat of the hellflame dragon, the floor boss in the deepest level of the Belfra underground ruins. That dragon Is the reason for the overtime, no doubt about it. The capture of the dungeon has stalled because its boss remains undefeated. When all the bosses of a dungeon have been defeated the monsters that were there will leave, but since this one hasn’t bitten the dust yet they keep gathering. And where monsters gather, so do adventurers, drawn to the rewards the guild offers for defeating them—in other words, the adventurers’ income. When a dungeon is about to be conquered adventurers take on quest after quest to earn as much money as they can while they still can. The result is a hell scape like today’s, with the reception being overcrowded during the day and a massive backlog at night. Usually the situation is resolved after a few days, but this time, because they’re having so much trouble with the hellflame dragon, they’ve been stuck in this hell for nearly a month.
‘It’s all its fault…’
Alina bit her lip.
Before the capture of the dungeon reached its stalemate, Alina enjoyed the peaceful life of the receptionist. She would do her duties, go home on time, have a good night’s sleep at home and then go to work the next morning, ready to do her best for the day ahead. But after that dragon made her work overtime, that peaceful life turned into miserable days where she just eats, sleeps, works, eats, sleeps, and works. Even if she were to work on her days off, as long as the boss is still alive, this hell would never come to an end. She went through so much trouble to get a stable job as a receptionist, but the peaceful life she wanted more than anything else was slipping away from her because of this overwork.
‘This is the worst…’
She understood. Alina was not tormented by overwork due to anyone’s ill will. The boss, the monsters, the rush of adventurers—they were all just desperately trying to live.
The dungeons left behind by the Ancestors are packed not only with priceless relics, but also their invaluable knowledge and as of yet unknown technology. The adventurers’ exploits eventually reach the citizens of Iführ and enrich their lives. Indeed, without their accomplishments the development of the metropolis wouldn’t have been possible. As a citizen of Iführ, Alina must be grateful for the adventurers who every day dive into the dangerous dungeons. Be that as it may, all that is really just pretext, and in the end, however the town develops, it’ll do nothing to diminish Alina’s overtime.
‘Aah, I can’t take it any more.’
She muttered and took out a new commission form.
Alina has until now desperately put up with it, telling herself she just had to hold on until the dungeon was captured.
Overtime is temporary, like a sudden storm, and just as the sky clears once the storm has passed, once the dungeon is completely captured Alina can go back to her peaceful and stable receptionist days. Until that happens, Alina has gritted her teeth and continued to work overtime.
But this time’s overwork lasted long. Too long. She was at her limit.
‘Bunch of useless adventurers can’t even defeat a single boss!’
She took out a card she kept hidden in her uniform pocket. That thick, golden card was the mark of a first-rank adventurer, not something a receptionist was supposed to have.
The first rank license, supposedly only given to the guild’s top dogs, was her forbidden last resort to get rid of the overtime. It doesn’t matter what the future holds if she uses that card, as long as it gets rid of the overwork in front of her eyes disappears.
Alina angrily filled in the form
‘If I can get rid of this bastard…!’
“Belfra undergr. Ruins, 2nd fl. Boss “hellflame dragon” solo extermination”
Alina’s eyes, which were dim with fatigue, suddenly regained their brilliance. Nay, the light in her eyes, which contained the bloodlust of a predator about to pounce on its prey, was even sharper than before.
‘I’ll definitely be going home on time!’
