Becoming the Worst Receptionist
Labyrinth City—a lawless hub where renowned adventurer guilds from every nation gather. And the guild I belong to, Tragodia, is always a top contender for the strongest, consistently ranking first in performance.
To keep your place here, you have to keep proving your worth. No exceptions, not even for us receptionists. We have to strive for glowing reviews from everyone around us.
Yeah. To keep your place, that is.
A story that had nothing to do with me.
Stay in the guild, and I'd die from overwork. Try to quit, and I'd get murdered. So all that's left is getting expelled. If getting kicked out is the goal, just make everyone hate you. Perfect plan.
"This receptionist's impossible to talk to! Get me someone else!"
"Ah, s-sorry."
Couldn't even handle customers properly—booted from the counter.
"Vivaldi! There's missing info on this contract!"
"Ah, s-sorry."
Messed up tasks from fellow receptionists.
"Vivaldi! I said bring the report by 3 PM!"
"Ah, s-sorry."
Forgot documents I was supposed to deliver or handed them to the wrong people.
Chaos rippled through every task, and the stares aimed my way sharpened. Smooth sailing. Perfectly smooth.
A guild wouldn't keep dead weight like me around—they'd have to toss me out.
"Oh, Vivaldi, heading home already?"
"Ah, y-yes. Milo-nim."
A man with a sharply chiseled jaw—Milo—approached me. Adventurer guilds lack rigid hierarchies outside the guild master and vice masters. Experienced adventurers lead parties, and veteran receptionists play middle management. They're unofficially called "senior guild members," and Milo fit the bill perfectly.
"Hey, we're all going out for drinks tonight, but you're the only one who hasn't confirmed."
An after-work drinking invite. Refusals aren't really a thing. If you want to climb as a receptionist, you have to stay on Milo's good side.
"Ah, I'm not feeling well. Probably can't make it."
But I shot it down flat. My goal was expulsion from the guild. Milo was the last guy I wanted to impress.
Milo smiled, but his eyebrow twitched hard. How dare a lowly peon like me skip drinks? It had to grate on him.
"...You sure? One of the vice guild masters is coming. Might be important talk for you too."
There were three vice guild masters, and he meant the admin one. "Important talk" obviously meant personnel matters. I was dying to hear it—which was exactly why I had to skip.
"I'm good. Drinking when you're sick is bad for you."
Even without the expulsion goal, I hated booze anyway. Who drinks something that tastes like pure bitterness?
"Hey! Vivi!"
Milo was forcing down his irritation, opening his mouth again, when a group of women approached. Bella and other guild adventurers. She was huge and strong, so the others seemed to follow her lead.
"B-Bella-nim?"
"You punk! You've got some seniority—why're you spacing out like this lately?!"
"Uwheee, s-s-sorryyy."
Bella pinched my cheeks with both hands and stretched them out. My words came out all stupid and slurred.
"Heh, check out these soft cheeks."
"Ooh, super smooth here."
"Eut...!"
The other adventurers kept groping my arms and legs. No one around tried to stop them, and resisting would just make it worse for me.
"Keep this up, and it'll ruin the guild's image, y'know?"
"S-s-sorryyy."
Not like Bella—who was still on probation and wandering around carefree—had room to talk.
Now she was squishing my cheeks flat with her palms.
"Um, everyone? I'll handle scolding Vivaldi myself, so how about letting him go?"
Milo finally spoke up, unable to watch. Despite clearly disliking me, he was stepping in—maybe he wasn't so bad.
"Scold him? You guys can't even teach properly—that's why he's like this."
"W-We do our best..."
"Whatever. We'll discipline him instead. C'mon, Vivi!"
"Uwheee?"
"Vivaldi still has work..."
"Drag him to a corner and just... heh heh heh...!"
"Makes my mouth water."
Ignoring Milo's protests, the adventurers groped me thoroughly before leaving.
Large adventurer guilds often have their own taverns. But for guild members, those spots are less for relaxation and more for business—clients hashing out request details over drinks, receptionists mediating between clients and adventurers, parties plotting strategies. So for pure socializing like after-work drinks, they hit external spots.
"That punk Vivaldi's been a total pain in the ass lately, right?"
Milo griped irritably after a sip at the barbecue joint. The receptionists around him nodded vigorously.
"Right! Complaints are piling up because of him."
"He's such a space cadet—whatever you tell him to do, he screws it up, so you start over from scratch."
"Tiny guy, looks all pretty, so adventurers keep dragging him off. Sits around playing while we work."
"Men can be useless if they're cute and handsome. Back in my day, we didn't even hire types like that."
"Can't work with someone like him—too unreliable. Good thing he skipped drinks tonight."
Milo smugly sipped as they echoed him.
"...He wasn't always like that."
Milo and the receptionists whipped around at the unfamiliar voice. A woman with black cat ears was swirling her finger in her glass, creating a vortex. She'd blended into the table naturally, but no one knew when she'd sat down.
"...You guys used to praise Vivi for his quick work. Maybe he's burned out from all the overtime you piled on him? Lack of sleep."
"W-What do you mean 'overtime'? We all went through that as newbies!"
"Newbies should hustle harder, but he's lazy as hell...!"
"More importantly, who are you?"
Milo eyed her suspiciously. She talked like a guild member, but he'd never seen her despite years on the job.
"...You look like the highest rank here. You footing the bill?"
"No, the vice guild master is..."
"...Hasn't shown yet?"
"She'll come when she's ready. Anyway, whoever you are, this is guild business—outsiders should leave."
"Aigoo, Milo! Sorry I'm late. You didn't starve waiting...?!"
The restaurant door opened, and a man entered with a big grin—until he spotted the perked cat ears. His face froze.
"N-Natalia?"
As the vice guild master's color drained, Milo sensed something was very wrong and grew uneasy.
Natalia stared into her swirling glass and spoke.
"...The vice guild master gathered guild members for talk. I'm one too—mind filling me in?"
Warm sunlight, cool breeze, chirping little birds. A refreshingly perfect morning.
Yeah. I'd definitely overslept.
"Haaah~"
Normally I'd bolt up in panic, but today I stretched luxuriously. Not planned, but since it happened, leaning into tardiness seemed smart. The diligent receptionist Vivaldi had retired long ago.
I should've arrived by 7, but I sauntered into the guild hall around 9.
"Heh heh..."
Laughter bubbled up imagining my expulsion horns sharpening even more.
I half-heartedly planned to apologize to the other receptionists, but the counters were deserted. Just a sign standing there.
We are not accepting requests today. We apologize for the inconvenience.
What? Was today a holiday I forgot? Then I wasn't tardy—I was the ultra-diligent receptionist showing up on a day off. That wouldn't do.
I rushed to the office to check. Several receptionists were missing.
"...You're here, Vivi."
A voice made me turn. The woman with cat ears—Natalia from the guild master's office last time—peeked from a door crack. But that was Milo's private office.
"Wh-what are you doing there?"
"...Needed some tidying. Wanna help?"
"Huh? Touching Milo-nim's stuff..."
"...Ah. Milo's gone."
My heart dropped. The word "gone" from someone who looked like an enforcer.
Did that mean even a senior like Milo got the "Henrik" treatment? That ruthless to top receptionists too?
"...And this is your office now. You're the senior receptionist."
"Huh?"
What nonsense was this? Me, a peon, the senior?
"Wh-what do you mean? Milo-nim above me, and receptionists below..."
"...Fired them all. Unlike you, they had zero loyalty."
Now my heart wasn't just pounding—it felt ready to burst.