Kentaro’s new office—or rather, the imposing throne room that screamed “corporate overlord meets dark fantasy”—was a far cry from the dull, fluorescent-lit spaces he’d once called home.
As he sat behind the obsidian desk, his clawed fingers nervously flicked through the mountain of papers.
The oppressive silence was only broken by the occasional flicker of firelight from the dark corners of the room.
He wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the whole thing.
Sure, he’d been promoted to CEO of an entire corporate empire in Hell, but that didn’t exactly mean he was happy about it.
He wasn’t exactly thrilled to be sitting in the same chair as some dark overlords, let alone having to handle complaints about “unacceptable battle outcomes” or deciphering battle injury claims for zombies.
“Oh, you’re really going to love this one.”
Balthazar, the half-bat, half-lizard who is apparently his secretary, said in his sing-song voice, eyeing Kentaro’s growing frustration.
Kentaro glanced up from the forms and glared at the creature.
“You know, I really don’t feel like loving anything right now, Balthazar.”
Kentaro muttered.
Balthazar just smirked, his glowing yellow eyes gleaming in amusement.
“Well, too bad! You’ve got work to do. HR doesn’t run itself, Baalgron.”
Kentaro barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
If he thought dealing with office drama on Earth was bad, it was nothing compared to this hellish corporate structure.
The only thing keeping him from losing his mind was the “Managerial Aura” ability.
A passive skill which he got that calms subordinates and increases compliance.
Unfortunately, while it helped calm subordinates, it didn’t do much to soothe Kentaro’s rapidly deteriorating mental state.
A familiar voice rang out from the doorway.
“Ah, I see you’ve settled in, boss. I trust you’ve found your desk sufficiently evil?”
Kentaro turned to see Lilith, the sharp and calculating succubus from Legal Department, striding into the room.
She didn’t seem the least bit fazed by the looming darkness of the room or Kentaro’s monstrous new form.
“What do you want, Lilith?”
Kentaro sighed, flipping through the papers again.
Lilith perched on the edge of the desk, the glow from her crimson skin casting a faint light across the room.
“I just thought I’d pop in and remind you that technically you haven’t signed off on the latest unholy visitation protocol.”
Kentaro blinked.
“What in the nine circles of bureaucracy is that?”
Lilith raised an eyebrow.
“I’m surprised you don’t know about it, considering your new title. It’s a rather important form for visitors from, well, outside Hell. In case you get some… unexpected guests, say… heroes or divine auditors.”
Kentaro groaned, rubbing his temples.
“Are you telling me I have to deal with forms before I even start handling complaints?”
“Of course.”
Lilith’s grin was as sharp as her wit.
“Don’t worry, it’s simple enough. Just sign here and here and you’re all set for any future… unholy visits.”
Before Kentaro could protest further, Balthazar popped his head up.
“You know, Baalgron, I think it might be time for your first official task. Something small, nothing too crazy to start with.”
He let out a low chuckle, knowing full well the kind of “small” task that was likely on the agenda.
Kentaro reluctantly pushed away the mountain of paperwork and looked at the next sheet on the pile.
It was a complaint—poorly written, of course—about the War Division.
Apparently, the War Secretary had been accused of “inefficiency” in handling battle outcomes.
“Inefficiency?”
Kentaro repeated incredulously, holding up the form.
“What does that even mean?”
“It means they’re whining about their last battle results. Apparently, the goblins weren’t ‘motivated enough’ and some dragons didn’t perform up to their ‘fiery expectations.’”
Balthazar said with a mocking tone.
“Sounds like the War Division’s doing a lot of whining for a bunch of bloodthirsty warriors.”
Kentaro squinted at the form.
He could feel a headache coming on just from reading the incoherent mess.
“I guess this is what I’m dealing with now, huh?”
“Yep.”
Balthazar said gleefully.
“Welcome to your new role. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
Kentaro, who had hoped for some semblance of normalcy, now realized that this—handling paperwork about poorly executed battles—was his new reality.
At least he was a very competent middle manager, and if there was anything he could do, it was organize chaos.
He took a deep breath, looking back at the form, and turned to Lilith for some guidance.
“So, what exactly do I do about this?”
Lilith glanced at the paper and then looked back at him.
“Well, you’re the CEO, aren’t you? You handle the complaints. That’s how the system works. The War Division sends you their paperwork, you give it a once-over, and if it’s really bad, you’ll need to call in the War Secretary to explain themselves.”
“Oh joy.”
Kentaro muttered.
“A War Secretary. Sounds like a real charmer.”
“I’m sure you’ll get along great.”
Lilith teased.
“But if you need me, I’ll be in Legal Department, as usual.”
With that, Lilith turned on her heel and sauntered out of the room, leaving Kentaro to wrestle with the absurdities of his new role.
His desk, filled with forms and complaints, seemed to mock him.
“Alright.”
Kentaro muttered to himself, eyes narrowing at the complaint form.
“Let’s see what kind of mess the War Division has made.”
He carefully read through the rest of the complaint, and though it was a disaster of spelling errors, misspelled battle outcomes, and vague accusations, one thing stood out.
The War Secretary’s name was mentioned more than once.
Kentaro sighed deeply.
“Okay, step one: figure out who this War Secretary is… and why they’re apparently failing to make the goblins ‘enthusiastic’ about battle.”
His first official task as CEO of the Dungeon Conglomerate had just begun—and already, it looked like it was going to be a headache of bureaucratic proportions.
But, as always, Kentaro was a man who thrived under pressure.
Even if he didn’t want to be here, even if he didn’t want to be the HR overlord of Hell, one thing was certain: he would make it work.
“Let’s get this over with.”
He muttered as he grabbed the phone.
Time to call in the War Secretary.