Chapter 1
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 0.5
Chapter Title: Age for Urgent Family Calls (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Marriage is a big deal.
"Senior, I'm getting married this time!"
"Me? I'm getting married soon and heading off on my honeymoon. Didn't you know?"
"Hey, look. Isn't my baby cute? You should get married too."
Meeting. Blind date. Dating. Marriage.
This damn romance fantasy world was telling me loud and clear.
"Senior, have you taken a celibacy vow by any chance?"
"No."
"Pardon?"
"I haven't made any celibacy declaration, you bastard!"
"S-Sorry!"
At twenty-five years old, Daniel Dia Tristan had become a confirmed bachelor.
I should've followed that smooth, busty dark elf lady when she tempted me. Damn it.
Saint, priest, exorcist. The ones commonly known as demon slayers.
Unfortunately, in the modern 21st-century Earth, all ghosts lost their jobs under the name of the 'Horizon Coordinate System.'
But this is a romance fantasy world settled by Meteor Drift, so demons, demonic beasts, demon kings, demon gods, devils, and all sorts of freaks pop out everywhere.
「Rabbit ears? Are you a demon?」
「Pardon? No, these are just... decorations.」
「Uh... um... tastes differ, I suppose.」
The simplest principle for distinguishing humans from demons: if they don't look human, they're demons.
Elves have pointy ears, so demons. Beastkin have fur, so demons. Dwarves are short and hairy, so demons.
This cockamamie logic still leaves me in awe even now.
A true idiot-proof romance fantasy world where I was reborn as an orphan.
I don't know who reincarnated me, but perhaps feeling sorry for two natural-born orphans in a row—including my past life—they gifted my body with immense holy power.
「Hey, handsome exorcist passing by? Want to try an exorcism ritual in bed with me?」
「Emergency! Succubus Queen sighted! Everyone, battle stations—!」
「Should I wash up first, then?」
「Daniel, you mad bastard!」
Thanks to this holy power, I got tempted by pretty succubus ladies and luckily became an adopted son of a marquisate.
...But if that's the case, why not just let me be born as a noble?
What pissed me off even more was that every time I met my ideal type, they all turned out to be demons.
Succubi with exposed cleavage, sleek-legged elves, bunny-eared beastkin. Their common trait? Massive racks.
My promised land was right there. No matter how I look at it, it feels like my spawn point got switched.
Anyway, living diligently like this, I got a little sister at age eight, became an official priest at fifteen, and at twenty-two, I successfully annihilated one of the seven legendary calamities, 『■■ of ■』.
Though my grand dream of building a harem with three wives and four concubines with huge... assets failed along the way, I returned with all limbs intact, so isn't this a successful life?
I got a fat reward for bringing back the demon king's head, so now I just need to find a nice person.
Such arrogant thoughts didn't last long.
「What about our daughter? She's thirteen this year—.」
「Hey! You crazy bastard!」
True to its medieval fantasy nature, political marriages made it practically impossible at my age.
Engaged between ten and fifteen, married right after academy graduation at twenty—this express route was the norm. In this world, I was practically an old bachelor.
Of course, with the world half men and half women, I could find someone outside political marriages. I'm no pureblood noble snob; as long as our hearts match, even a commoner is fine...
"Demons sighted on the eastern coast. Shall we poke the Mage Republic about it?"
"During the Six Holy Halls meeting, the Cardinal of the Military Bureau proposed additional budget for relief efforts. It's bigger than expected, so we need more hands."
"Confirmed clash between migrant tribes and the empire's forces. This could escalate to legions moving if we're unlucky."
The work was disgustingly piled up. Way too much.
If this were a typical hero's tale or dramatic narrative, it'd end in a happy ever after, but life doesn't end until you're in the coffin.
「Mentor, what's all this? Don't you know paper's expensive—.」
「Work.」
「?」
You need to meet people for love to sprout, and love needs to bloom for marriage to happen.
'Miss that F-cup bunny sis...'
One medieval fantasy staple: vibrant hair and eye colors. Freestyle magic that hangs where it lands—nose if on nose, ear if on ear. Holy arts that heal with a sign and prayer.
Plus the cliché where eyes meet and hips follow automatically.
The world exhausted every trope—empires, Holy Empire, Mage Republic, demon kings, demons.
Yet why is this part so realistic? I defeated the demon king, so why doesn't the work decrease?!
Of course, I knew the reason. It's obvious.
Lots of work means lack of manpower.
"D-Deputy Director?"
"What? Another incident?"
A junior I didn't recognize well approached my desk hesitantly. Seeing the mountain of document binders, tension crept over her face.
And I knew the cause of that tension. Sigh...
"I'm getting married this time."
"Congrats. Vacation's approved for this—."
"Ah, it's not a vacation request..."
She slowly placed a white envelope on my desk.
Slipping it expertly between the stacks showed the pride of a colleague who'd worked with us for a year.
"I've decided to resign. It's something I've thought about for a long time. Sorry to spring this while you're busy."
Ahh, another one leaving like this.
Of course, no hard feelings. Even in 21st-century Korea, pregnant women are untouchable; how much more in medieval times? So she made the decision to quit.
Especially since our Execution Bureau side involves frequent trips abroad or to remote areas—hardly ideal post-marriage.
"Sorry for what? Congrats on the marriage first. Send a wedding invitation if possible."
"Th-Thank you."
"Not sure if I can make it."
"Haha..."
"Check with Finance on severance. Handle handover yourself; you've worked hard till now."
"Thank you for everything!"
With that, she left the room with light steps.
"District Chief, approve all my backlog vacation in bulk."
"Pardon? You old bas—. No, Deputy Director, what do you mean?"
I decided to commit my own outrage. Dying from overwork was enough in my past life.
The Six Holy Halls.
The supreme decision-making body of the Holy Empire, one of the national rule powers in medieval fantasy clichés. It discusses ways to guide people according to the wills of the six gods overseeing justice, abundance, wisdom, freedom, faith, and mercy.
Among them, Justinos—the god symbolized by red, overseeing justice—is the main god of the Execution Bureau I belong to.
Judgment. Justice. Guidance.
We handle most matters requiring force.
No need to say more, given how my administrative incompetence got me to Deputy Director on holy power alone.
"Vacation."
"Pupil, what nonsense is this, barging in out of nowhere."
"Vacation."
"You don't smell like booze."
"Vacation."
"...Follow me to the training grounds. I'll punch you a sick leave?"
"You gonna really knock me out?"
"You've truly lost your mind."
The bishop, overall head of the Execution Bureau and my mentor, was untouchable in matters of force.
Just as I gained immense holy power from being an orphan, he gained strength from his baldness.
"What weird thoughts are you having now?"
"Nothing at all."
See? Those forearms thicker than most knights', even in his fifties. That's a human weapon—what else could be?
"Mentor, no more, no less—just one week."
Chit-chat over, I got to the point: vacation request. A right any worker trading life for money deserves.
"You on something?"
"Have you gone mad?"
Not liking my claim, he cursed right in my face and scowled.
"I remember you whining about manpower shortages and begging for rookies lately."
"I did."
"So what happens if you take vacation?"
"...Not my problem!"
What! I'm human too! My name's Daniel, not Chun-sik!
And I had an even bigger justification for vacation.
"Mentor, you know what?"
"What."
"These days, my family's faces are getting blurry."
Four years by the calendar this year, and I hadn't seen home or family. That's too much, human-wise.
This isn't Confucian Korea from my past life, but basic etiquette and norms overlap.
"To be honest, even slaves don't work like this."
"..."
"Now my little sister doesn't even recognize me."
"Ahem."
Pricked by conscience, he cleared his throat falsely. Then, with narrowed eyes:
"Real reason?"
...Hmph. Long-time master-disciple bond; half-assed lies don't work.
I plopped the real reason on his desk. Fancy stationery anyone could see effort went into.
"Wedding invitation. A friend sent it—getting married."
Ahh, yes. This thing called a wedding invitation exists even in 21st-century Korea.
Of course, considering medieval average marriage age, getting married now is pretty late. A time when 'thank god he finally is' fits.
"But here's the thing."
If it's lucky my friend is marrying even now... what am I?
"...Weren't you under a celibacy vow?"
"...I heard that earlier too."
I gritted my teeth unwittingly. Not because of lacking ability, too much work, ugly face.
But devoting my life to god—no room for doubt. I exploded.
"I just can't take it anymore, so give me vacation!"
"Always brawling with warlocks or buried in paperwork—how to meet people, fall in love, marry?!"
"No vacation, and I'll bolt north right now for debauchery with bunny beastkin sis—Gahk!"
Luckily, mentor's fist quelled the outburst. Good. Perfect.
Fortunately, no rank-stripped master-disciple brawl ensued. Though minor threats of pants-off and turning the office into a toilet were exchanged.
'This counts as success.'
Position change, plus 90 annual leave days guaranteed for three years ahead, no celibacy vow questions. Excellent negotiation; all good.
「Handle some headaches instead.」
Of course, everything has equivalent exchange—like mentor trading hair for strength.
I had to pay up too.
Smash a black mage's sacrificial ritual prepping human offerings. Deal with sudden demonic beast herd movements.
Handling such medieval fantasy tasks was par for the course.
And finally, awaiting me: executing judgment on a heretical mage researching forbidden life-extension arts.
scum who grind others' lives for their desires without a second thought—I steeled myself...
"Inquisitor, can't you turn a blind eye just for this one?"
"Romeo! You don't have to die in my place! It was all because of me!"
"Sorry, my love. This is the end for me."
So, yeah. In short, that's it.
'...Fuck.'
Seeing even these taboo-treading heretical mages boldly sharing love, confirming hearts, shedding tears...
Something indescribable boiled up from my dantian.
"I love you, Juliet."
"My love, Romeo. Will you be with me in the next life too?"
"Of course."
'I haven't done shit yet, you crazy couple.'
...What a fucked-up world.