Chapter 2
In the world where Franz lived, there was something called a cliché. It referred to plot devices and developments in novels or movies that were so predictable anyone could see them coming. For example, any character who says, "Let's get married after this war ends," is guaranteed to die. Or the seemingly weak, squinting character who turns out to be hiding immense power. If there's a Demon King disrupting the world, then naturally, a hero rises to oppose him—that's a cliché too. And the hero gathering a party to subjugate the Demon King, followed by a happy ending with everyone laughing together? All of it, every bit, was straight out of the hero's tale playbook.
So what about this world? There was a Demon King and a hero. The hero gathered a party and set off on a journey to defeat him. The hero's party successfully subjugated the Demon King. Peace hadn't fully returned to the world yet, but with so many people working tirelessly day and night, it would come soon enough. This world was the epitome of a hero's tale cliché.
But the bizarre, semi-transparent display floating before Franz's eyes right now completely denied all that.
Save the world from the villainesses who will lead it to destruction!
Hero Yuna (0.00%)
Saintess Justia (0.00%)
Elf Archer Hera (0.00%)
🎁 Failure Result: The world will be destroyed!
It was the first time he'd seen it in 20 years of possession. Recalling all those tearful days shouting for a status window just to see this, tears welled up in Franz's eyes. It wasn't exactly a status window, but the semi-transparent display part was spot on.
After calming his surging emotions a bit, Franz regarded the guidance window with a cool gaze once more.
And surged again—.
No matter how he thought about it, 20 years was too damn long.
Hoo—. Finally, after venting his emotions twice—once every ten years—he regained his composure with a sigh.
He immediately began analyzing the guidance window floating before him.
"Hmm…."
Save the world from the villainesses who will destroy it. From the context, it seemed the three names listed below were those villainesses. But why were they all so familiar?
The titles in front matched perfectly too, so they couldn't be coincidences or people with the same names.
Franz felt a wave of doubt. Sure, they had filthy… no, extremely filthy personalities, but were they really world-destroying villainesses? Probably not. Their participation in the hero party, sacrificing for the world's sake, was proof of that.
Or… was it?
Come to think of it, everyone in the hero party had pretty much been dragged into it by force.
Anyway, at least in Franz's memories, the hero party might've been trash in personality, but not world-ending trash.
Next, the percentages next to their names—probably progress indicators for the story. Subjugating the villainesses? Or reforming them? He wasn't sure which.
But the real problem was the last line.
Failure will result in the world's destruction!—
In other words, failure meant his life—and this world—went bye-bye together.
Sure, the first line said something similar, but "These girls are world-destroying villainesses" versus "Screw this up and you're done for" hit completely different.
Well, bottom line: He'd thought this world was just a hero's tale, but that was only the prologue.
In movie terms, this was right around when the lion lets out its roar—!
The problem was that the main story turned out to be a life-or-death game.
Anyway, what was done was done. He'd have to deal with it somehow.
For starters, let's try this.
Franz began scribbling a letter.
After pondering all night, he'd concluded the guidance window was ridiculously unhelpful. Normal RPG quests came with all sorts of conditions and details, but this just dumped "save the world" and a villainess list on him and said figure it out.
Where the hell did they do that?
Thud—.
As Franz thought that, a massive stack of documents landed on his desk. Relief applications from rural villages to Magic Tower lab renovation permits. All had to be done by end of day, so the furrow in his brow was inevitable.
Overtime confirmed again today.
"Making that face won't change anything. Why'd you even become tower master then?"
Arian, his dedicated secretary, spat sharp criticism with her expressionless face.
Yes, the tower master position was so exalted it came with a personal secretary!
But it wasn't like the secretaries in 21st-century fantasies. Instead of flirty fun, she just dished out biting sarcasm nonstop, chipping away at his self-esteem at first.
Still, Franz kept her around because she was incredibly good at her job. Not just good—extremely good. She handled most things independently and even covered for the tower master's forgetfulness. The perfect secretary archetype.
Plus, she'd been his colleague since his first day at the Magic Tower. Competent and friendly, so her barbs carried weight.
Of course, Franz was used to it now. He just took it as daily routine.
"Here, deliver this."
Franz handed her a letter envelope in exchange for the documents.
Arian tilted her head diagonally with a curious ?.
"Saintess Justia of St. Serpian Cathedral…?"
"Yeah, pass it along."
For now, Franz wanted to assess the situation. Even if the window called her a villainess, he needed info to act. So he'd picked the saintess first.
Among the hero party, she was the closest to having a human personality—at the end, she'd even granted them a miracle. Sort of like picking the least harmful demon among demons.
Calling the saintess a demon might be too much?
Anyway.
But Arian clearly wasn't thrilled with the request.
"Tower Master, what was it you always preached when you were just a tower mage? 'Don't dump your work on me. Make your own damn tea. Five-day workweek! Strict quitting time! No personal errands! Company dinners count as overtime!—' And now you want me to deliver a letter? Using your secretary for personal business is crossing a line, don't you think?"
Arian unleashed her words, brows furrowed. Shockingly, it was all true, but Franz had his own grievances.
When he'd first set foot in the Magic Tower, it was worse than the military—pure boot camp vibes. Bosses dumped work on underlings, sent able-bodied mages to fetch tea, and failure meant "Everyone from below me to above you, assemble!" as standard.
If it'd been a mid-tier magic guild, he'd have just gone along, but this was the Magic Tower—big corp of big corps. Dreaming of 21st-century corporate perks, Franz rebelled.
He earned the ire of the old fogeys but climbed to tower master anyway. No issue there.
Though he'd never imagined taking it from his own secretary.
Still, he had a counter.
"If I deliver it myself, it'll take forever. You know that means you won't get off either, right?"
Secretaries naturally left after their boss. Late tower master quit time meant late secretary quit time. A fatal blow for Arian, who craved strict quitting.
"Hah—resorting to quit-time blackmail. I miss my righteous colleague Franz. Fine, I'll treat it as official business and deliver it."
A few unnecessary jabs, but she cleared her throat with a ahem and turned to leave the tower master's office.
If you hate it, become tower master yourself.
Franz notched another victory today, but…
Glancing down at the thick document stack, a sigh escaped automatically.
Overtime confirmed, no doubt.
St. Serpian Cathedral, the grand headquarters of the faith, home to the world's most famous religious figure: Saintess Justia.
She'd joined the hero party, overcome countless trials, and was the only one who could hear God's voice and perform miracles.
But she wanted none of it. To the little girl who only prayed occasionally, it all felt overwhelming.
She hadn't asked to be saintess. God had chosen her on a whim and granted the power.
Yet too many sought her teachings, longed to hear God's voice. She couldn't just abandon it all.
Every day was hell. Eyes followed her everywhere—no freedom. No say in clothes, water, food. Nothing was her choice.
In her exhausting routine, Saintess Justia thought:
If I'd known the world was like this, I wouldn't have saved it—.
Then an attendant handed her a letter. Sender: Franz Gilbert. Hero party mage and current Magic Tower master.
Seeing the name, her shoulders twitched.
Cautiously, she opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.