Kentaro adjusted himself in the large, black stone throne, a seat clearly made for someone much more imposing than his current form.
He hadn’t quite gotten used to the sensation of sitting on a throne—especially when his new demon body made everything feel overly dramatic.
The glowing runes along his black robe pulsed faintly in time with his growing irritation.
Balthazar, his ever-mischievous secretary, flitted around the room, watching Kentaro’s every move with a wicked glint in his eyes.
The half-bat, half-lizard creature clearly found this whole ordeal amusing.
“So, how do you want to handle this War Division mess?”
Balthazar asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.
Kentaro took a deep breath and stared down at the poorly written complaint in front of him.
It wasn’t just a simple complaint—it was a corporate mess.
The War Division had filed a formal grievance about their “inefficiency,” accusing the War Secretary of failing to motivate the goblins and dragons to meet “battle expectations.”
It was clear the War Secretary was getting some heat, but as Kentaro quickly skimmed the text, it seemed there was a lack of real accountability.
Spelling errors, vague complaints, and nonsensical ramblings filled the page.
“Why do they make this harder than it needs to be?”
Kentaro muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple.
The paper in front of him was filled with complaints like “Goblins were underfed and unmotivated,” and “Dragons failed to ‘perform fiery expectations’.”
Whoever wrote this needed a lesson in proper grammar… or at least proper battle tactics.
Balthazar watched him with amusement.
“I don’t know, Baalgron, but I can tell you this—this ‘War Secretary’ isn’t going to like it when you call her in.”
Kentaro narrowed his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s one of the strongest in Hell. Not a genius, but she’s got the strength to back up her position. And the War Division? They can get a little… unruly.”
Balthazar explained, tapping the side of his head.
“But hey, it’s all part of the fun.”
Kentaro sighed, feeling a headache coming on.
“Of course it is.”
With a reluctant flick of his clawed fingers, Kentaro summoned a demonic communication mirror, an obsidian surface that shimmered faintly as the image of a woman appeared.
The War Secretary, as expected, was a beastman—tall, muscular, and covered in fur, with fierce golden eyes.
She looked like someone who could rip through a battlefield with her bare hands and probably did so on a regular basis.
Her presence was undeniably intimidating, even through the mirror.
“War Secretary Ragnora.”
Kentaro said, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible.
“It seems we have some issues to discuss. We have been getting complaints from the War Division.”
Ragnora’s golden eyes narrowed at the mention of complaints, but she didn’t look the least bit intimidated by Kentaro’s appearance.
“I’m well aware of the complaints.”
She growled, her voice deep and gravelly.
“But they don’t know what they’re talking about. I’m doing my job just fine.”
Kentaro steeled himself.
“The goblins are complaining about being underfed, and the dragons—well, they’re upset about not meeting expectations for fiery performance. This is a corporate issue, Ragnora. We need to get this resolved.”
Ragnora crossed her muscular arms.
“The goblins need to learn discipline. They don’t need more food; they need more fire in their hearts!”
She sounded like she genuinely believed this.
Kentaro had been on the receiving end of many bizarre office complaints before, but this was something new.
“I’m going to have to insist that we take a more professional approach. This isn’t just about motivational speeches or fire-breathing dragons. This is about meeting KPIs, not slaughtering every hero who dares to enter the Tower. We need measurable results, Ragnora.”
Balthazar, still hovering nearby, let out an exaggerated yawn.
“You know, Baalgron, I think you might be giving her too much credit. She’s great with a sword, but not exactly a corporate mastermind.”
“Thanks, Balthazar.”
Kentaro muttered.
“I figured that out on my own.”
Ragnora growled in frustration, but Kentaro cut her off before she could continue.
“Look, if you want to keep your position, you’ll need to implement actual strategies. The goblins and dragons are your responsibility, and if this issue isn’t resolved by the end of the week, I’ll have to start issuing performance reviews. And those are not optional.”
Ragnora’s eyes glinted with something akin to challenge.
“You think your little HR tactics will work on me, Baalgron?”
Kentaro leaned forward, his voice steady.
“I don’t think they will. I know they will. My ‘Managerial Aura’ has a way of making even the most unruly underlings comply.”
Ragnora’s ears twitched, and for a moment, she looked slightly taken aback.
“Your aura, huh?”
She seemed to weigh her options.
“Fine. But I don’t guarantee that the goblins will suddenly become model soldiers. They’re a chaotic bunch. If you want results, you’ll need to give them something they actually care about.”
“Not their bloodlust?”
Kentaro asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Not their bloodlust.”
She confirmed.
Kentaro sat back, feeling the weight of the task settling in. “
Alright, Ragnora. I’ll look into it. We’ll set up a meeting to hammer out the details. Until then, no more complaints, alright?”
Ragnora grinned, her sharp teeth flashing.
“I’ll try to keep things… in line.”
As the mirror flickered and Ragnora’s image disappeared, Kentaro let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“Well, that went better than expected.”
Kentaro said, half-sarcastically.
“Sure it did.”
Balthazar agreed, still enjoying Kentaro’s discomfort.
“But now you’ve got to figure out how to motivate a bunch of goblins and dragons. Sounds fun!”
Kentaro scowled.
“I don’t suppose there’s a magic wand for this, is there?”
“Nope, just forms, meetings, and more forms.”
Balthazar said cheerfully.
Kentaro buried his face in his hands for a moment.
This was going to be a long day.