I Got Fired

"You repulsive runts! Did you not fell timber in our territory first?!"

Inside the Round Table Conference Hall, an elf with pale green hair shouted at the top of his lungs. Though his refined visage attempted to maintain a facade of dignity, the deep-seated fury simmering in his chest bled into every syllable.

"The hell is this pointy-eared bastard barking about?!"

"He asks if you dwarves weren't the first to chop down trees on their land."

I translated the pale-green-haired elf's outburst for the oldest dwarf at the table, an elder whose thick beard practically swept the floor.

"What kind of bullcrap is that?! That ground is our clan's land! Even the Empire recognized it as such!" the long-bearded dwarf roared in indignation. Unlike the elf, every single crag and wrinkle carved into his weathered face flared with unrestrained rage.

"And just what is that runt sputtering?"

"He claims the territory in dispute was their land to begin with."

"Preposterous! That land has belonged to my family for generations! The Late Emperor himself decreed it so!"

Veins began to throb along the pale-green-haired elf's temple as his temper steadily flared to match the dwarf's.

"Look at this knife-eared prick! Look at his damn pointy ears turning red! Hey, Manager! What's the bastard saying now?!"

"He says it's his family's ancestral land, officially granted by the Late Emperor."

"Hah! The Late Emperor? That geezer kicked the bucket years ago!"

Whoa. That line is treading on dangerously thin ice.

I quickly waved my hands at the long-bearded dwarf elder, signaling him to rein it in. Whether he noticed my warning or not, the dwarf jabbed an accusatory, stubby finger at the elf and bellowed at the top of his lungs. Not to be outdone, the elf unleashed a blistering volley of high elven insults. Neither of them could understand a single word the other was saying, yet neither seemed to run short of venom.

Good grief... What on earth is it this time?

Ten years ago, I opened my eyes to find myself transmigrated into a video game world. I had landed in the scrawny body of a penniless street urchin without a copper or a drop of noble blood to my name, but I did possess a few transmigration perks: omnilingual comprehension that allowed me to speak and understand the tongues of every living race, and innate, top-tier physical prowess.

On top of that, having played the game extensively, I knew the habits, cultures, and daily customs of every species down to the smallest detail. I even remembered the major and minor historical incidents slated to unfold across the continent. In a place like this, what was the best possible career path for someone like me to put food ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on the table?

Naturally, it was becoming an official who resolved inter-species disputes.

Fortuitously enough, the Empire had only just unified the continent at the exact moment I arrived. As a consequence of rapid conquest, friction and bad blood between different races boiled over in every corner of the realm. However, the sovereign of that era sought to quell these conflicts through dialogue rather than brute force. Thanks to the serendipitous alignment of the times, I became the Empire's sole Grade 5 Conflict Manager.

Sure, it pays the bills and keeps me fed, but this damned Empire doesn't go a single blessed day without a brawl.

Having ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠clawed my way up from a starving beggar on the curb to a Grade 5 imperial bureaucrat, I now wielded genuine administrative authority. Yet because these non-human races couldn't go twenty-four hours without clawing at each other's throats, my life had devolved into an endless cycle of grueling, sleepless overtime. And today was merely another drop in that bottomless bucket.

Out of nowhere, an elf and a dwarf had stormed in, squawking at each other that the other party was solely to blame.

Thud!

"All right, all right. That's enough throwing tantrums."

I slammed my fist onto the round table with a resonant crack, addressing them in their native tongues. The pale-green-haired elf and the elderly dwarf clamped their jaws shut in an instant. Sensing the faint yet heavy hum of mana radiating from the fist I had struck against the hardwood, both flinched.

"...Hmph!"

"...Tch."

The moment I signaled that my patience was wearing thin, their fiery bravado withered.

Can't let my guard down for even a second with these two.

Merely being fluent in different languages and versed in diverse cultures and histories wasn't enough to act as an effective mediator in this Empire. Every now and then, a display of raw force was required. In moments like these, the physical prowess I received as my transmigration boon truly shone.

"It appears this dispute stems from a mutual misunderstanding. Allow me to mediate calmly. First, let us examine the documents brought by the elven delegation."

At my words, the pale-green-haired elf pulled out a parchment and laid it upon the table.

"Behold! The official deed granted by the Late Emperor himself, certifying that this land belongs to our house! Does it not bear the Late Emperor's own imperial seal?"

I inspected the document presented by the elf. Sure enough, the text stated that the Late Emperor bestowed the forest in question upon the Liprin family.

"Hey, Manager! Is that really what it says? You sure he ain't spinning lies?!" the dwarf elder barked, his eyes bulging.

Since the parchment was penned in Elvish, the dwarf couldn't read a single letter. That was precisely why both parties had come here to the Conflict Management Department.

"The document does indeed state as much," I replied. "However..."

"This deed was drafted prior to the Third Land Cadastral Survey. As such, it is no longer legally binding."

"Ha! I knew it! What did I tell you? That land belongs to us!"

When I translated the same verdict to the elf, panic overtook his features.

"W-What madness is this?! The Third Land Survey? We never heard of any such thing!"

"I assure you that you have. It was a realm-wide enterprise initiated under the current Emperor shortly after his enthronement."

I flicked my fingers to summon my aide. "Carmel. Fetch the registry records for the Third Land Survey."

"Yes, sir! Right away!"

Carmel sprang into motion the second the words left my lips, returning mere moments later.

"Here you go!"

I unfurled the official records she provided across the table, swiftly locating the section pertaining to the Liprin family of elves and the Melton clan of dwarves.

"Right here. Since this document is recorded in the imperial human script, I will read it aloud for both of you."

Standing over the table, I recited the clauses in both their languages. The forest where the Melton clan felled timber was indeed their lawful territory, while the Liprin family had agreed to receive ownership of an adjacent woodland in exchange.

"It seems there was a misunderstanding on the elven side. As you can see, the agreement bears an official signature."

Embossed at the bottom of the registry was a signature that only an elf could produce: a stylized leaf emblem woven with distinct nature mana.

"Impossible...! I have no recollection... of ever signing such an agreement...!"

"In all likelihood, you were indisposed at the time and dispatched a proxy in your stead, Lord Patriarch. And that proxy evidently failed to report the matter to you."

"To think...!"

The elf couldn't conceal his humiliation and bewilderment.

I neatly stacked the parchments on the table and spoke in a steady tone. "Please return home, locate whichever representative signed on your behalf back then, and hear their side of the story. If there remains any dispute after that, you are welcome to visit our department once more."

With that, the mediation came to an end. The patriarch of the Liprin family stormed out while wheezing in frustrated indignation, while the chieftain of the Melton clan chuckled gloatingly at his retreating back before taking his leave.

"Phew..."

Having settled yet another headache, I slumped into my office chair and exhaled deeply. Just then, Carmel pushed the office door open, clutching a massive stack of dossiers against her chest.

"Manager! Excellent work today!"

"What's that now?"

"These are the written mediation requests that arrived for this week!"

"..."

Carmel waddled forward, sandwiching the towering pile of paperwork between her hands and her impressively voluptuous bust.

Thump!

She dumped the bundle onto my desk and scurried behind me to knead my shoulders.

"Hehe. You must be exhausted! Let me massage your shoulders for you!"

"I'm fine, really."

"Come on! Just a little something to keep your spirits up!"

Brushing off my refusal, she set to work diligently kneading away at my stiff muscles. While she didn't possess any dazzling administrative brilliance, her sociability and loyalty were second to none.

"You should pack up and head home soon. We'll look over the rest tomorrow."

Through the window, the night sky had long since settled in. Overtime again.

"Hehe...! Then... will you be heading home with me, Manager...?"

"I'll stay behind and finish up a bit more. You go on ahead."

"Ah... Okay then..."

Looking inexplicably deflated, Carmel packed her belongings and departed.

Why look so glum when your boss is practically shoving you out the door to clock off?

If I were in her shoes, I would have bolted without looking back. Unfortunately, clocking out early was a luxury I couldn't afford. When it came to resolving inter-species disputes, I was an entirely irreplaceable cog in the imperial machine.

Sigh... Back then, I thought it was such a great position...

A talent whose duties cannot be replaced by anyone else. Doesn't that phrase just reek of privilege and prestige? Except I had overlooked a fatal catch: having a job that only I could do meant that every single piece of work fell squarely on my shoulders. In other words, I was cursed by fate to live as an involuntary workaholic.

"Uuuugh... Just kill me..."

And so, buried beneath a mountain of parchment, I closed out another day.

The following morning.

I greeted the morning sun from my office chair. Having dozed off in the middle of processing forms, I hadn't even managed to go home.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Heavy, frantic footsteps echoed down the corridor outside.

SLAM!

"Gasp...! Hah...! Manager!"

"You scared half the life out of me. Who taught you to kick down your superior's office door like that?"

"Ah... W-Well... it's an absolute emergency...!"

Carmel stood in the doorway with an uncharacteristically grim expression. The moment I caught sight of her pale face, an ominous foreboding chilled my spine.

"H-His Imperial Majesty... says he is dissolving the Conflict Management Department...!"

"...?"

Why is it that bad omens never fail to strike true?

"Say that again?"

"An official dispatch just arrived...! It says that effective immediately, the Conflict Management Department is to be disbanded..."

Trembling, Carmel laid the notice upon my desk. I picked it up and read through the lines slowly. It was real. The imperial seal of the reigning Emperor was stamped boldly across the bottom.

"Dissolution...?"

The edict plainly stated that since inter-species disputes had waned year after year, such matters would be left to the races to handle among themselves, rendering the department obsolete.

"...I'm going to the Imperial Palace."

"Y-You're going in person...?!"

"Of course I am."

I grabbed my coat and threw it over my shoulders. Dissolving the department was utter nonsense. I needed to see the Emperor directly.

After working me like a dog for the past ten years, he's throwing me away overnight?

After all the blood, sweat, and tears I poured into keeping this Empire in one piece?

Naturally, sheer personal fury burned hot in my chest. But far beyond my own wounded pride lay a much more catastrophic problem.

The Empire is far from stable. If I don't keep managing these tensions... the whole realm will fracture.

I knew what the future held. To prevent the Empire from splintering and to foster true integration among the different races would take decades of delicate stewardship. During that transitional era, mediating conflicts large and small was an absolute necessity. If left unchecked, the various non-human tribes would inevitably wage wars of independence within a few short years.

"I-I'm...! I'm coming with you!"

"You?"

"I am... the proud second-in-command of this department!" Carmel proclaimed, her voice quivering with nervous determination.

I let out a soft chuckle and tossed her coat to her. "Then get dressed quick. We're leaving this second."

"Yes, sir!"

Carmel and I swept out of the office and boarded a carriage bound for the Imperial Palace.

The Imperial Palace. The Audience Chamber.

Kneeling beneath the grand dais where the Emperor sat upon his gilded throne, I dared to speak first.

"Your Imperial Majesty. Word has reached me of an edict to dissolve the Conflict Management Department. I humbly ask if this is truly Your Majesty's will..."

Emperor Importin cut me off before I could finish.

"It is."

"May I ask why Your Majesty would..."

As words failed me in the face of his callousness, the Emperor scoffed.

"Are disputes among the other races not scarce these days?"

"..."

The absurdity ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of that single sentence struck me dumb.

"Over recent years, there have been virtually no major conflicts to speak of. Whatever petty squabbles arise are minor at best. Surely the representatives of each race can manage such trifles on their own, can they not?"

There were no major conflicts because I snuffed out every single ember before it could turn into a wildfire!

Because I knew exactly what future catastrophes were brewing and intercepted them before they spiraled out of control!

Swallowing down the scream threatening to tear from my throat, I forced my voice into a measured, deferential cadence.

"Your Majesty. The various species neither comprehend one another's languages nor grasp one another's customs. Leaving them to resolve disputes among themselves will inevitably breed disaster—"

I tried my utmost to reason with him, but this emperor was utterly incapable of listening to another human being to the end.

"Manager Jose. Do you dare question my imperial decree?"

He wielded his sovereign authority like a blunt cudgel to crush any dissent.

"You have drawn an imperial stipend for ten years while doing practically nothing. Have you no shame? Just how much longer do you intend to leech off the Empire's coffers?"

Doing nothing? Me?

No shame? Me?

Leeching off the Empire? ME?!

"The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Empire will flourish without the slightest hitch in your absence. Even should disputes arise among the other races, this Empire has no shortage of capable minds who can easily replace you."

The sheer delusion rendered me completely speechless. The Emperor was profoundly ignorant of the reality on the ground. More than that, he hadn't the faintest inkling of the bone-grinding toil I endured every single day to maintain this fragile peace.

"Be gone from my sight! This Empire has no need for useless bureaucrats who contribute nothing!"

A useless bureaucrat.

Those words struck like a dagger through my heart. What, then, had my last ten years of devotion been for?

"...Understood, Your Imperial Majesty."

I turned and walked out of the Audience Chamber, struggling to rein in the tempest raging in my chest. Unappreciated labor leaves behind a bitter, hollow misery. It went beyond mere disappointment or resentment; it was a soul-deep desolation. Even as white-hot rage flared within me, my strength drained away, leaving me too exhausted to even stay furious.

The moment I stepped into the corridor, Carmel rushed over, searching my face with anxious eyes.

"Manager... How did it go...?"

Gazing at Carmel with a wry, self-deprecating smirk, I replied quietly:

"I'm fired."

Emperor Importin.

The heir who inherited the Empire from the legendary Late Emperor who had conquered and unified the continent.

His greatest obsession was to forge achievements with his own hands that would eclipse those of his father. To that end, he sought to fortify the imperial foundations, and as part of that initiative, he had recently taken to personally dissolving what he deemed 'unnecessary departments.'

And so, on a morning not long after he championed his crusade for bureaucratic efficiency...

Unprecedented petitions began flooding the daily morning council without warning.

"Your Majesty! The merfolk have lodged a formal petition! They claim that human waste dumped into the ocean has far exceeded the agreed-upon pollution thresholds—!"

"Your Majesty! Dwarves are protesting outside the palace gates! Beastfolk have allegedly occupied a mineral vein they were preparing to excavate—!"

"Your Majesty! The elves have dispatched a lengthy letter of protest! They demand imperial intervention, claiming orcs have encroached upon their sacred forest—!"

Never in his reign had such a thing occurred.

To have forty-seven separate inter-species dispute petitions land on the imperial desk in a single morning?

"W-What is the meaning of all this...?!"

"These are formal requests for dispute mediation from across the realm, Your Majesty."

"If Your Majesty does not address them with the utmost urgency, they threaten to erupt into full-scale hostilities!"

In that harrowing instant, the world before Emperor Importin's eyes went utterly black.