“Fuck my life…” A middle-aged man groaned, wearing a tight blue suit and black tie that showed his muscular frame, though despite it showing it was too tight, the suit forced to stretch as the buttons look like they are close to snap, on this man’s chest was a seal pinned on his chest. It’s a stainless silver seal with the design of two swords clashing with a key vertically placed in the middle with the head at the top and the key’s end at the bottom.

It was Michel, looking more like he wanted to end his life as each minute passed. What this man was doing that’s making him miserable was signing his name and signature on parchment scrolls, not even bothered to read the things he signed, he rolled them, tie them by a red ribbon and placed it on a basket of scrolls, most likely the other scrolls he signed.

“Why the hell am I signing on parchment paper?” He complained as he looked at the man at the next desk wearing the same attire as Michel, who’s outfit was loose and looked a size larger compared to Michel, he was signing his signatures on 2-foot tall stacks of documents and files contrast to the medieval parchment scrolls.

He's a mature looking man with tired eyes and a lean, muscular build, not as muscular as Michel’s. Garnet short hair that’s been properly kept and trimmed and a chiseled face that had stubbles where it almost connected to his sideburns. He had the same seal pinned on his chest like Michel but it was a shining gold. He's the Guild Master of the Hunter’s Guild. Slater Lillith.

“Those papers belong to the Mages and Mystics Division, they always write and make forms and requests using parchment because of their system being mostly magical than technological. Those are requests and documents that require your name and permission to acquire certain materials that the Slayers Division has from previous hunts. Obviously these are very old documents since these are months old, so I took the liberty in allowing their requests.” Slater said calmly as he placed a signed paper on the stack, reading the contents before signing them.

He continued, “I allowed it because you are not around to sign the papers. What you’re signing are the outdated forms of those requests now turned official by your signature.” Slater stated as he raised his head to look at Michel with a warm smile.

“Is that your attempt in making a pun out of our titles as Officials?” He glared at the man that emitted a sickeningly kind aura that made his stomach turn.

“Maybe.” He softly chuckled. “Was it too obvious?” He asked while placing another signed paper on his stack.

“It was a very shitty pun. Just like that smug ass face you are throwing at my eyes.”

“There you go again trying to pick up a fight with me. I know this is boring, But this is the job of an Official. A job you keep evading by doing things that make you go far away from this building.”

“You know damn well I was forced into being one because the old one croaked.”

“And we keep offering new replacements for you, only for you to beat them in a fight.”

“The hell I’ll let anyone weaker than me take over and boss me around.”

“That’s pretty contradicting of what you want. You don’t want this job but you don’t want to let anyone else take it unless they beat you.” He has noticed his double standard ever since the first replacement came in, only for Michel to duel him and won, it almost felt one-sided to witness the fight back then.

“Don’t you try to do some psychoanalytic shit and make what I’m doing as me caring for this job. It’s not, At best I only respect the role of Head Demonslayer, and nothing more."

“Hmm.” Slater only nodded at him in agreement. “Now that your half of the papers are done—” He sets aside the stacks of papers, lowering himself from his seat to only rise up and pull out another stack of papers, almost taller than Michel’s stack by a foot. “Now onto my papers.”

“Why the hell are you doing my half of my paperwork anyway?”

“Initially it’s to keep you company and to make sure you are doing your work. I also know that it makes you angry to have me help you.” Slater smiled at Michel, he was toying with him. Aware of his animosity and dislike against him and the feeling was somewhat returned in the form of jesting and acts of unneeded kindness.

“Bastard, Why I oughta—” Michel stood up from his seat to roll his right sleeve, but from the slight flex of his arms moving caused the buttons of his vest to snap and fly off. Causing the Guild Master to cover his mouth to hide his chuckle.

“Hmhm—Now are you regretting in swapping our suits in hopes of annoying me?”

“That’s it!—” He burst into an immediate rage as he jumped out of his seat to tackle the Guild Master, only to be halted mid-flight.

“Hgh!—” He grunted from being immobilized in mid-air while still being conscious. “C-Can’t move.” His face was stuck being angry as he forced out his words while his teeth were clenched shut.

“Phew!” Someone sighed in relief as it came from a young woman holding a large, majestic staff. “Made it in time before Michel tried to do something stupid. Are you okay Slater?” She asked him as Slater stood up to walk away at a safe distance from Michel.

“I’m all right, thank you for stopping him Elana.”

The Woman named Elana was a young-looking maiden with elegant brown eyes, She looks like she's in her mid 20’s but was actually in her mid 30’s. She's wearing an elegant, large puffy green victorian-esque dress with white frills, along with her own take on a witch’s hat which was as green as her dress. She's the Arch-Mage of the Mages and Mystics Division. In other words, an Official like Slater and Michel.

“Seriously I leave for a moment and Michel is already starting to pick up a fight with you.” She lowered her staff, placing it on her back as she crossed her arms.

Michel fell on the ground with a hard thud. He grunted from the fall as he slowly recovered. “Could’ve dropped me softer E?”

“Elana.” She corrected him. “I would, but knowing you, you don’t like it when people want to be nice to you.”

Her comment only made the man cross his arms and looked away. “Hmph…” With nothing to say he sat back on his seat, resting his feet on the desk as Elana pulled out a wand from under her sleeve, flicking it towards Michel as she casted a spell on his chair to pull back, forcing his legs to drop back on the ground, once it did the chair pushed forward. Making him sit down properly. “Why the hell do you have a wand when you already have a staff?”

“Why do you have a pistol when you have a massive gatling gun?” She answered as she approached him. “Now that I’m back, did you finish signing all of the scrolls for the MMD?” She looked at his basket of scrolls. “Mmm… Your ribbon tying needs some work.”

“Bite me, my hands are not meant for something gentle like ribbons.” He flipped Elana the bird and with a flick of Elana’s wand, she pulled him out of his seat by pulling it off with magic, to only smack him at the face for being too rude.

She felt a red vein forming on the side of her face before calming down after she assaulted Michel with a chair, dropping the chair on him once she’s done. “Let me repeat myself and I hope you can answer without any sass. Are you done signing all the scrolls?”

Michel groaned, frustrated and annoyed from her understandable moment of anger by smashing him with his own chair. He slowly stood up and fixed his chair, only for the seat to break as it nearly broke from being used as a weapon, it only broke now from him sitting on it. He growled in frustration as he stood up and handed her the basket.

“Fucking, here!—” He handed her the basket containing all of the forms and requests which Elana flicked with her wand as it floated its way behind her. “Now get out of here. Don’t you have students to teach in your Division?”

“Thaaank you, and I don’t have any students to teach today. Most are on a study trip to learn about magical flora at the east. See you later Slater. Please don’t exert yourself too much, okay?” She bid her farewell to the Guild Master as she walked out of the office.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Elana. And don’t worry about me.” He smiled softly at his colleague, waving them goodbye as she walked out. He then looked at the beaten up Michel as he rested his hand on his shoulder. “You all right?”

“Fuck off, Slater.” Michel immediately shrugged his hand off of his shoulder as he patted himself off as he walked out. “I’m gonna get changed.” He was about to leave but was stopped when his hand was grabbed by Slater. “Now what?”

“Would you like to have a drink after this?” He asked him with a stern yet calm voice, not smiling at the man who hates happiness.

He looked at him for a moment and took a deep breath and sighed. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

“I know. You never pay.” He couldn’t help but have that smile return as he lets go of his wrist and shoved him to leave. “Now go get yourself a bigger suit.”