“Hey, hey, is reception for the fighting tournament still not open?!”
The irritated adventurer slammed the counter, but Alina never let her business smile waver. She smoothly voiced the standard phrase that she had gotten completely used to saying lately.
“As it says in the notice from guild headquarters, reception for the fighting tournament begins in two weeks. Please wait until then.”
“Two weeks?! I can’t wait that long! I’m ready and raring to go!”
Uh, look, I’m telling your ass to wait, okay? I don’t care how raring you are.
The words almost escaped her lips, but she swallowed them down. Normally, this would be where her irrepressible urge to kill these unreasonable adventurers would swell up, but Alina was a little different today. Yes, these narrow-minded adventurers who vented their anger at her like this were insignificant. That was because Alina was now in possession of the most powerful source of calm known to man: having zero overtime.
“The only orders I am able to accept at the moment are ordinary quests. If you’re looking to register for the fighting tournament, then please come again in two weeks.”
“…”
Seeing Alina smiling brightly, the adventurer must have understood that there was no point in complaining, as while he looked dissatisfied, he left.
Exhaling, Alina once again looked around Iffole Counter.
There hadn’t been any new dungeons discovered since Civi Cathedral was cleared, so things had been peaceful. But despite that, there were more adventurers here today than usual. But the ones actually looking for jobs on the quest board were in the minority; most were talking about something else with the other adventurers.
They were all recruiting party members for the fighting tournament that would be held in a month.
The fighting tournament. The event of an adventurer’s dreams, held once every four years.
It was a party-versus-party battle, where participants would be able to assemble groups of up to four people to pit the skills they had polished in quests against one another. It was, so to speak, a fight to decide the best adventurer party.
Of course, most people would participate in the tournament with their usual party, but there were also some who would put together bands of stronger fighters in a serious attempt to win the competition. Iffole Counter, where many adventurers gathered, was a convenient place for them to solicit such allies.
Well, if they’re just chatting instead of taking quests, they can talk their heads off.
With a chuckle, Alina retreated to the office.
When she sat down at her desk, Laila smirked from the desk next to hers. “You’re in a great mood, Alina.”
“Of course. It doesn’t seem like there’ll be overtime for a while, and even if they do find a new dungeon, Silver Sword will manage it somehow.”
Yes, this was how things should be. Adventurers swiftly clearing dungeons, and receptionists focusing on helping people take quests. There was no need for, say, a receptionist who had gotten sick of overtime to clear the dungeon herself, hiding her identity and knocking out floor bosses on her own. The world was operating as it should be, and Alina couldn’t hide the smirk on her lips.
“The only thing to worry about now is who’s going to be in charge of the special window for the fighting tournament…” Meanwhile, Laila muttered about her anxieties. “Once the registration begins, we’ll temporarily set up a special window for the fighting tournament…! I hear hell awaits if you’re appointed to be in charge of it…!”
“Yeah, I do hear that.”
The fighting tournament came once every four years. Alina had yet to experience it in her career as a receptionist so far, but she’d been hearing about it a lot lately.
Once the registration for the fighting tournament began, each office would set up a special window to field applications. And of course, a receptionist would have to be put there to process things. The offices couldn’t stop processing quests like usual during this time, so they would designate a single person to be in charge of the fighting tournament, foisting—er, entrusting—everything related to it on them, including the special window.
And the adventurers who wanted to sign up for the tournament would naturally storm Iffole Counter, the largest quest office in Iffole, to do so. Apparently, there was always a massive line at the special window during tournament season, while the other reception windows sat totally empty.
“The fighting tournament special window—otherwise known as the window of death…! Whoever is in charge of it will be flooded with work and die! …Or so they say. That’s probably hyperbole.” Laila’s fingers trembled as she pictured the frightening sight.
Her fear was quite justified. The fighting tournament was a major event that rivaled the Centennial Festival, where the person in charge would not only have to deal with the applications, but also have to handle the office processing, the tallying, and the communication with headquarters. Basically, that receptionist would manage all the work related to the tournament. And since the winner would receive a rare and expensive prize, the job was a big responsibility, where errors were even less permissible than usual and where the entrants had to be strictly vetted for qualification.
But Alina laughed off Laila’s anxiety, shrugging at her. “It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine. Only the poor sap who ends up with the task has to go through hell. Though it’s true that the fighting tournament is a huge event that only comes once every four years. It makes sense that a lot of work goes into putting it on, and that mistakes aren’t allowed. That’s why they generally appoint veteran receptionists with a lot of experience under their belt. It’s got nothing to do with us, since we’ve only been here a few years.”
“…O-oh, really…?!” Laila asked, raising her chin as if she’d found hope.
Seeing her junior’s anxiety, Alina gave her a reassuring nod. “And the truth is, the seniors’ faces have been looking pale lately. They never know when the counter manager is going to clap a hand on their shoulder and ask them to take charge of the window of death, aka fighting tournament duty… Everyone is scrambling to pretend they’re busy and avoid the chief.”
“I—I see…!” Laila’s face brightened with clear and obvious relief. “But it’s true, if you think about it, yeah! There’s no way that they’d leave such an important duty to a newbie… Plus, normally you’d have a demonic look on your face if this sort of super-awful job was waiting for you, but you’re totally fine this time! I thought something was wrong!”
“…You didn’t have to say that part.” Though Alina shot a glare at her junior, the corners of her lips pulled up as she continued speaking. “The thing is, the fighting tournament period is heaven for everyone who isn’t in charge of it. Most of the adventurers focus on the tournament, so the number of quests we get goes down. So while we help out with the work a bit whenever we’ve got some free time, we get to leave when we’re supposed to! How wonderful! Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
“Hey, Alina.”
Right as Alina was relishing her victory, someone clapped her on the shoulder.
Instantly, her smile froze. No question about it—the voice that had come from behind belonged to the counter chief.
“Ah…huh?”
Alina slowly turned around. And there, indeed, stood the counter chief, a mild smile on his face.
Instantly, Alina sensed murmurs of unrest run through the office.
The fact she’d been addressed directly by the counter chief, who rarely moved from his desk, at this time, along with the fact he’d just tapped her on the shoulder, could only mean one thing.
No, it couldn’t be.
No way no way no way. It was impossible.