One monstrous morning in Ward City, the acclaimed Stephen Silworth was going to the Local Tax Agency, where he had to deal with special taxes plus the normal ones to avoid dodging and being sued for tax fraud. This was done annually once.

Stephen had to set up his own private company which resulted in a forty percent tax. Then his company specialty was not listed in the encouraged section so he had to pay another twenty percent of the base price. It was compulsory to have an insurance, and there was something called ‘exceptional tax’, adding them together was about twenty percent of the original value. Fifteen percent remained in his pocket, from which he had to pay another fifteen percent income tax.

Since he knew that he had to wait, like a lot, he brought a book, which was about illusion and dark magic. Though he wanted to read it, there were factors that did not let him do so. First, he had to draw a number, which meant he had to join the queue. Although there was a disabled person in front of Stephen, an older woman jumped the queue, and stated that she had to take care of her children, so she had to hurry. Second, there was the smell of death lingering in the corners of the building.

There were mostly old people in the room, since the younger generation did the administration via Internet. Only Stephen had to come, since it was demanded by the local government.

During his three hours stay, he encountered with a mom, who had a screeching kid and did nothing to stop him. Everybody was frustrated by their chit-chat that made the atmosphere much denser.

An old man collapsed, and nobody lifted a finger, since they were afraid of losing their position in the queue. Only Stephen move out of his way to help. He called the ambulance and provided first aid. As soon as the ambulance took the sick, he wanted to go back to his position. Nobody let him though, so he returned to the end of the line.

Halfway through, a spirit spawned at the office, which Stephen called an olden. It basically scolded everyone and told them that life was better in the old times. Fortunately, Stephen knew a phrase that banished these spirits back to where they came from. “Future is now, old man. Go back to your hole…” and he supported his statement with facts and demagogue monologues. The spirit faded away.

At the end of the three hours, he refused to take actions against any misfortunate events as it was not his concern to help ungrateful belligerents.

When he got to the special taxes department, he had almost no patience left. Since people rarely appeared at this part of the office, he was called shortly after his arrival.

That room had a strange atmosphere. Although the walls were painted nicely, and the wooden floor was shining as it was frequently tended to, the man behind the desk had an aura of utmost bizarreness.

“Good day to you, Sir. My name is Stephen Silworth, here is my ID card and tax card.” Introduced himself Stephen.

“Greetings. Great, thank you.” The man started to push the buttons on his keyboard.

“So what is your business?”

“Unconventional Trades.”

“I see. Do you need me to state the percentages?”

“I have been doing this for a long time. By the way, I haven’t seen you here yet.”

“I am new. You couldn’t have.” The man gripped his cup, strongly, and sipped some coffee.

“Are you stressed?” Stephen glanced at his eyes. “Your aura seems a bit strange.”

“So you are here for the admission, I guess.”

“Yes, that is your jo…” He stopped as he felt unease and the sudden block of a gripping fear chantation* by his ring that was used to prevent any undead magic, which included leeching and manipulation as basic functions.

“Sir?”

“I have a strange question here. Are you a lich?”

The man was staring at him. After a minute, summoned a scythe, and almost cut Stephen’s head off.

“Well, I do not have a contract, so would you kindly tend to the business?”

“What?” The lich was surprised, to say the least.

“I deal with monsters for a living, but not for fun. Anyways, what are you doing in a government office?”

The lich changed its appearance from a human being to a skeleton wearing a strange costume.

“I can use my original form, then.” He would have smiled, if he could.

“Are you butt naked?”

“Naah bra…”

“Now you reek of fart.”

“Am I? Then you haven’t sniffed the smell of my human colleagues. Even the dead are desperate when sensing that. I have a friend who went nuts and started shooting… I had to resurrect and wipe their memories out…”

“A friend? Are you taking positions in the administration?”

“We, liches, dwell on frustration, which makes us an excellent candidate to be a low-end official. You wouldn’t believe how much undead are in the government…”

“I haven’t heard that before.”

“We are lingering in the shadows. It sounds cool right?”

“Sure. Will you continue my filling my admission? I need to take care of a hysti tonight.”

“Ah, those are nasty…” He continued typing.

“Sure. But it’s easy if you know how to… How old are you? I am just curious.”

“I am in my thousand and thirty-first year.”

“I have read a book about liches not so long ago. I might want to ask one or two things about you.”

“Out of question. Why would I tell a monster hunter anything about us, monsters?” If he had muscles he would have smirked.

“Like, why are your magic green?”

“I do not know, maybe because we are undead.”

“Vampires have red magic, and they are classified as undead.”

“I mean classic undead. They have always had green magic. Even necromancers…”

“It’s strange.”

“I do not have much time left in this world, do I?” Asked the lich out of the blue.

“I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Absolver…” Murmured the undead and continued filling the forms out.

“What kind of undead?”

“What?

“Are in the government?”

“Mostly liches, vampires, odokuros and revenants. There are one or two werewolves as well, but they are not undead, so…”

“Werewolves? I have studied them for a long time. They cannot reproduce, only the intercourse of a human and a wolf might result in one, if the magic concentration is high that happens. I never knew who would fuck a wolf in the first place.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Well.” There was a moment of silence here.

“What is that ring though?” Asked the lich.

“I have made it from the remains of an archlich I banished to another dimension. He sends me a letter of appreciation every month.”

“Why though? Isn’t banishing a bad thing?”

“I banished him to a better place, where frustration is in the air and you do not to leech on anyone.”

“What, you banished him to a MOBA Coffeehouse?”

“Good joke, but no. It’s another world I haven’t been to.”

When he finished, he gave the papers to Stephen, who had done his part of taxation. He said his farewells to the lich, went home, and, since he had an appointment, he prepared for the exorcism.