Useful Bullshit Clerk (4)
It only took a few minutes to reach Kerno City. Worried the guards might froth at the mouth if they saw it, I left the Hell Horse nearby and walked into the city on foot.
The moment I entered, I scanned around for the tallest building in town. Spotting a fairly high bell tower, I headed inside. Climbing the stairs to the top, I stood beneath the massive bell and drew my Holy Sword.
Then I slammed the blade into the floor with a resounding crack. White sparks erupted from the sword, crashing down and sending ripples of holy power spreading outward. The white waves burst from me, sweeping across the city's skies all the way to the outskirts.
By the time the ripples faded at the city limits, a pillar of light shot skyward from one corner of the city. It flickered a few times before gradually dimming.
"Knew it," I muttered, sheathing the Holy Sword and descending the bell tower. Then I set off toward where the pillar had appeared.
The place I'd tracked it to was a rundown commercial district on the city's edge. Peeling whitewash and grimy, soot-stained buildings clung together, leaving just enough space for a single person to squeeze through. From inside came the sounds of hammering and sawing, mill wheels turning, curses, and sighs.
One side was packed with large trading posts, unloading yards, and open-air workshops. I spotted a few pawnshops and loan offices too. People with dark shadows over their faces shuffled in and out—probably bosses who couldn't collect on debts or meet loan deadlines.
Dodging a cart loaded with goods, I slipped into an alley. The buildings along the main road were at least somewhat decent, but the ones deeper in looked so precarious you had to wonder how they stayed upright. People still lived in them, though, and clusters of guys out front puffed on cigarettes, griping endlessly.
Wages were late, but the boss's son had just bought a fancy luxury carriage; the guy who'd been badmouthing the boss with me turned out to be his nephew; that accountant bitch from the trading firm had a fat ass but no manners—needed some education... Boss-bashing, company-bashing, coworker-bashing, boss-bashing again, client-bashing. I heard every damn kind of complaint as I threaded through that narrow alley.
No way... Della and Idi aren't trash-talking me behind my back while I'm gone, are they?
Winding through the alleys, I finally stopped in front of a building. The entrance was dim, with stairs leading straight up to the second floor. I passed through the open doorway and climbed.
A rickety wooden door blocked my path. Muffled voices came from inside—nothing sounded dangerous. I pushed it open and stepped in.
A small space opened up, about half the size of my inn's hall. Desks cluttered with haphazard stacks of papers and random junk filled the room. Two employees sat at desks, scowling and sighing over documents. It screamed small-time business office.
"What can I do for you?" The employee at the nearest desk stood and asked.
I drew the Holy Sword just a fraction. White light shimmered along the blade. I eyed him closely—he looked like an ordinary human. Scanning the office, there was only one other employee over there. She seemed normal too.
"Just you two?"
"A few more are around, but... the section chief and boss are in a meeting."
"Mind if I see them?"
"May I ask who you are?"
"Say you're from a client in Sozar City."
I had no idea what they did here, but calling myself a client should work. Businesses live for clients. Sure enough, he nodded and headed to the back.
He knocked on what looked like the boss's door, went in, and soon emerged with someone else.
The man following him was a massive brute. Built like a bull, muscles bulging everywhere, he hunched to squeeze through the door. His skin was nearly red, and his face—with thick brow ridges protruding like an angry horned beast—was easy to mistake for pissed-off. A pair of large goat-like horns sprouted from his head.
"You the one?" The man turned to me and strode over. His face loomed so high I had to crane my neck to look up.
"Here about monster crafts...? Wait...?!" Spotting my face, he froze mid-sentence, sucking in a breath.
I gave him a smile. "Glad to see you're still kicking around alive, Orkog."
Blood drained from the red-skinned giant's face, turning it a pale pink. His muscles twitched不安定, popping shirt buttons like gunfire. I snatched one flying at my face right out of the air.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he stammered, trembling despite his size.
"H-how... did you get all the way here...?"
"Let's talk."
The poor guy was shaking like a leaf when he suddenly whipped around to the employees. "Everyone... go home early today."
"Huh...? Why?"
"Just do it...!"
But they weren't budging. "You're not gonna call us back tonight to make up hours, are you...?"
"Or dock it as vacation when we have none left..."
"I'll give you half a day off for free—now scram!"
His roar kicked up a gust, sending papers swirling into the air. Spooked, the employees grabbed their bags and bolted.
In the now-empty office, he looked down at me. "Sir Bertrand... why are you suddenly here...?"
"You supposed to be looking down at me?"
"Ah, sorry..."
Orkog, the demon, dropped to his knees to meet my eyes.
"You're the section chief? Then who's the boss? I can guess."
"I-I'll fetch him now..."
Orkog lumbered across the office with heavy thuds and into the room he'd come from.
While I browsed the office, the door opened again.
"Aigoo... Hero... what brings you to this humble dump?"
A short, middle-aged man in glasses crawled out on his knees. Goat horns topped his head too. Orkog knelt and followed behind.
"Hero sir... long time no see—you're looking radiant..."
The crawler looked up at me. "Ammugar humbly greets you, Hero sir."
The demon Ammugar groveled, forehead to the floor. Scared shitless of dying, the bastard.
This guy was the only legion commander who betrayed the Demon King during the subjugation and fled the battlefield, saving his skin. He took a few command staff with him—including the assault captain Orkog behind him.
"Hey, Ammugar."
"Y-yes, Hero sir."
"What are you doing here?"
"As you see, running a small business."
Ammugar bowed low on his knees.
"Since the Demon King fell, we've washed our hands clean and lived honestly, yes."
He ordered Orkog behind him. "Fetch a sofa for the Hero to sit comfortably."
Orkog thundered into the boss's room, hauled out a whole sofa, kicked desks aside, and plopped it down.
"Please, sit, Hero sir."
"Mm."
As I sat, Ammugar half-stood and pulled a slim cigarette from his pocket. "Care for one?"
"Don't smoke. So, precisely what do you do?"
"Nothing grand—just manufacturing and distributing small products."
"Selling what?"
"Things like this."
Ammugar reached to a desk and offered a small wooden craft. It was a monster figurine like those sold in Sozar City—meticulously detailed, not some cheap knockoff.
"Huh? This is the souvenir from Sozar? You're making these?"
"Aigoo, you've been to Sozar? We supply some there too. Guaranteed top quality."
"You make 'em yourselves, or outsource?"
"Orkog and I make prototypes, then outsource production."
"That's a deathstalker, right? Damn realistic. You got talent?"
Not flattery—it was impressively crafted. The long venom tail, chitin texture, even the leg joints were finely done.
"Orkog surprisingly has a knack for woodworking. I handle the details."
Ex-Demon King legion commander and assault captain as boss and section chief—who knows monsters better? Still, with their skills, they could rake in more. Why this?
Ammugar explained. "Of course... we didn't want to bother you, Hero sir. You rest easier if we behave, right?"
"In other words, you don't wanna get cocky and die."
"Heh heh... you could put it that way..."
"Bullshit. You little shit. Not being straight?"
Ammugar flinched like I might jump up and beat him.
"Even if the Demon King's castle is gone, what legion commander whittles toys? Spill the real reason."
"Can't fool you, Hero sir."
Ammugar sadly recounted their tale. After the Demon King's army collapsed and he died, the betrayers like Ammugar lost purpose—like puppets with cut strings. Money dwindled; horns made jobs impossible; demon powers useless for earning cash... Starving, a stranger offered a deal: he wanted a Demon King-related business but lacked knowledge. Partner up? Desperate, Ammugar agreed—then realized he'd been scammed.
"Scammed how?"
"The 'partner' had racked up massive loans under the company name..."
I could guess the rest. Partner dumped the company on him and vanished.
"Dumbass... didn't check for loans? Why not run?"
"We're demons—special oversight. Can't relocate with debt..."
"Caught good."
"Yes... so we're dragging this company along, tears and all..."
I sighed deeply. Some ballsy human royally screwed over naive demons and bolted. Even retirees lose pensions to scams—demons wouldn't stand a chance. If they'd had one tax-savvy guy...
Legion commander and assault captain...
"What's this special oversight?"
"We should've been executed, but betraying the Demon King at the end got us leniency..."
What bizarre laws...
"Anyway, Hero sir, what brings you?"
"Ah, yeah. Some weird shit lately."
Sensing the ominous tone, Ammugar's face stiffened. He bowed repeatedly. "What... weirdness do you mean...?"
"Monsters came sniffing around me three times recently."
"Monsters...? Yes..."
"Nergama, Suna, Kekene—they spoke."
"What...? Those don't talk... What'd they say?"
"Lemme think..." I scratched my head like I couldn't recall, then added, "Goddess's puppet. Pathetic cripple. Something like that?"
Ammugar blinked at me.
"'Goddess's puppet'—that's what your Demon King and commanders called me behind my back, right?"
"W-well... maybe..."
"You send 'em?"
Ammugar jumped, waving his hands wildly. "No way! I can't make those beasts talk!"
"You then?"
Orkog paled and shook his head. "I got no powers—just brute strength!"
"Huh. Any suspects?"
"Puppetry skill. But everyone I knew with it died in the subjugation..."
Ammugar adjusted his glasses, pondering.
"Got it. Anyway, pissed off to my core, I stormed the Demon King's castle—and found this."
I tossed the bouquet I'd been holding at Ammugar's feet.
"What's this?"
"Flowers on the Demon King's throne. Someone mourning him."
"Whaaat...? No way!"
Ammugar recoiled in horror while picking it up.
"Quit the shock. Who you fooling?"
"No, really—I swear! Haven't been back since we fled!"
Looking genuinely clueless, he inspected the bouquet closely. Orkog leaned in, peering at the dainty flowers. A legion commander and assault captain gawking at pretty blooms—hilarious.
Then the office door burst open. A hooded woman entered, cradling a large bag with a long baguette poking out.
I scanned her face. Brown hair in a ponytail, hood, long skirt... Matched the woman who bought flowers in bulk from Sozar.
Our eyes met, but she looked away indifferently.
"Brought lunch."
She dumped the bag on a desk with a thud.
"Hey. Come here a sec."
She turned to me with blank eyes.
