Never Touch That Man
There was a Transmigrator Management Office in every Shelter.
Each branch had its own branch chief, and above them all sat the head of the Management Office.
Transmigrator Management Office Director Bern Imbert.
He had taken the position right after the Shelters were established and spent the last ten years without any major incidents.
Retirement was just a few years away.
But right now, Bern Imbert was facing the greatest crisis of his life.
What the hell am I supposed to do...?
He made his money by selling information on transmigrators with special abilities to the upper crust.
Some transmigrators hid their powers anyway, and the elite of the Shelter could eventually dig it up themselves with their influence. So he figured he'd skim a little profit by passing along the info at a fair price.
But this time, the big payout for hunting down the Dungeon Master had stirred up a real monster.
Finding one transmigrator was routine—just assign it to the branch chiefs like always. No sweat.
But what the hell was this?
What kind of insane causality had brought this thing knocking?
"What's so hard about it? Just manage the transmigrators like you always have. Don't do anything stupid."
A stunning beauty with pale purple hair had barged into his office and plopped down in the head seat, crossing her legs like she owned the place.
Magic Tower Master Evangeline Mystia de Nightis.
"Wh-why is the Tower Master defending this... Dungeon Master...?"
Bern ventured the question, and Evangeline's expression turned icy.
She let out a sigh.
"Haa... You still haven't grasped the situation? Or is it because I haven't been active lately?"
The air grew frigid in an instant, and cold sweat beaded on Bern's brow. No, it wasn't just the atmosphere—the temperature in the room was actually dropping.
"Th-that's... But I have my... reasons too, so at least tell me wh—"
He was hoping to minimize the damage by prying out why the Tower Master had gotten involved, even if the job failed.
But the sweat pouring off him was already freezing solid, and frost began creeping across the room's corners.
This is bad. Real bad.
There were many reasons the Shelters maintained a baseline of public order, even on the brink of collapse.
But if he had to pick one...
Overwhelming power.
The heroes who had shone terrifyingly in the war against the monsters. Everyone in the Shelter had fought alongside them, seen their strength with their own eyes, felt it firsthand.
It wasn't an exaggeration to say their sheer might kept the fragile order in Shelters across the world from crumbling.
And among them, Tower Master Evangeline was a monster who zipped between Shelters via ultra-long-range spatial jumps.
...She could kill him right here and vanish, and no one would dare call her out on it.
His body trembled—whether from the chill or the terror of death, he couldn't tell.
"Hey, I'm busy right now? Gotta wrap up all this annoying crap today. Think fast?"
Evangeline glared at him with irritation, then suddenly smirked.
"Want me to help you decide?"
"What do you—"
Evangeline started counting down.
"9."
"8."
"7."
With every number, sweat poured like rain and froze solid in repeat. He thought he might end up a human popsicle, and memories of his long-standing ties with influential figures flashed briefly—but nah.
"6."
"5."
"...I swear, I won't touch anything related to the Dungeon Master from now on..."
Nothing scared him more than the violence staring him down, and nothing mattered more than his neck.
*
Evangeline stepped out of the Transmigrator Management Office Director's office.
"Haa... That guy's rubbing off on me with these weird habits."
With help from the local bigwigs in the Shelter, she'd set up safety nets around the Dungeon Master from every angle. No one would dare touch him now.
"What a pain in the ass..."
Especially this outfit—the first clothes she'd worn in five years. It chafed like hell.
Wanna rip it off right now, but...
Still tons of places to hit. She had to personally warn every faction in the Shelter that might target the Dungeon Master.
The guy's pretty on edge, so better wrap this up quick without dragging it out.
- Uuuung... Let me knooow... Brooo...
A sudden memory of her chat with the Dungeon Master.
"Fuck..."
Once the real-world stuff was handled, who knew what nonsense that idiot would spout next... Her head already throbbed.
*
I killed time endlessly scrolling the gallery, waiting for Joodak to sort things out.
Management Office chatter popping up here and there in the gallery.
"Ugh... Joodak bro, I'm scared..."
I was deep in my specialty—wasting time pointlessly by lurking—when a fresh hot topic surged up the boards.
"Huh?"
I clicked the most eye-catching title amid the sudden explosion of posts.
"Whoa..."
What the actual fuck was going on?
Gestures of protection pouring in from every unheard-of corner.
No, Joodak bro... said you'd handle it yourself...
"Joodak hyung... who the hell are you...?"
Was Joodak secretly the Empire Emperor or something...?
What kinda pull lets you mobilize that many factions?
Shit, the crap I pulled on Joodak...
I vowed never to be rude to Joodak again.
*
Night deepened, the Shelter ceiling lights dimmed. Street stalls started shuttering one by one.
In a dim corner stall, a gray-haired woman wrapped head to toe in bandages tidied her shop.
"...Soo-chan oppa will come tomorrow, right?"
He'd usually drop by for dinner...
Was something wrong? He hadn't shown tonight.
Luna's mind replayed Soo-chan's words from lunch.
...Luna, I might never come back here.
Words from a deeply shocked Soo-chan.
"No way..."
Was he gone for good...?
Her hands froze mid-packup. Beneath her black veil, her pumpkin-orange eyes dulled completely, shrouded in gloom.