New hires were split into groups for the three-month training period.
Assigned to my group: Julianna, and the Mage Tower’s second lead.
*Did the author realize too late she’d sorted us by exam rank? Why so lazy about it?*
The heroine, ranked first. The second lead, ranked second.
And me, dead last.
Our classmates had plenty to say about the three of us.
“Whoa, the top-scorers’ group. Except for one, huh?”
“Pfft, why’d they cut the group like that?”
The original author must have done it that way.
*If she spent every waking hour working at the orphanage while studying for the exam, coming in last is nothing to be ashamed of.*
Ranking last on the entrance exam could hurt your career, sure.
But this worn-out, exhausted office worker in her past life had zero interest in career advancement.
*Getting promoted just means becoming a middle manager who has to babysit everyone under you.*
Do you have any idea how infuriating middle management is…
“Hah.”
A bad memory from my last life surfaced for a second, and I nearly choked up.
But there was no point wasting energy on that.
Anyway, things were unfolding according to the original story just fine.
*The heroine and the second lead are headed for the Black Spoon Division.*
The palace’s departments broke down into three broad categories.
The first was the Central Bureau.
It housed the sort of ministries any modern Korean would recognize — Labor, Education, and so on.
The second was the Mage Knights’ Division, handling magical and martial security.
*And last is the Department for Black Magic Collection and Containment.*
…The Black Spoon Division, for short.
*Described in the original as the harshest department, hands down!*
Countering black magic — “murder magic” — obviously required serious magical talent.
Which meant only a handful of elite recruits ever got assigned there.
This year’s intake was a grand total of two people.
*Heh. Then I’m safe.*
No way they’d pass over the heroine and the second lead to take me.
I’d tour the departments dutifully, then latch onto a decent one like a leech and never let go.
*Still, I should probably get along with everyone during training.*
I was checking my group assignment and moving to meet up when Julianna, who’d arrived early, spotted me and beamed.
“Leila! Over here!”
“Hi, Julianna.”
Good. Nothing to worry about on the heroine’s end.
The problem was the second lead.
Seamus Finley.
Purple hair, pale skin, deep and chilly black eyes.
A handsome man with catlike features and a decadent air about him.
*Current Mage Tower Master’s son, and he’ll become the Master himself eventually, right?*
The Mage Tower operated independently of the palace, and he and the heroine were headed for a rivalry arc.
But more pressing than any romance flags…
*Wow. Look at that outfit.*
We were told to dress business casual, and he’d shown up looking like a new hire who’d shuffled in wearing flip-flops.
*He’s even got a skull bracelet on.*
The corporate scold buried somewhere inside me nearly clawed its way out.
Damn it, bite my tongue and hold it in.
Still, we were stuck in the same group, so I made an effort to be friendly.
“Hi, Finley.”
“…”
“Looking forward to working with you starting today.”
“…”
Only then did he glance sideways at me.
And turned his head away!
*There he goes. That personality with all the social skills drained right out of it.*
Was he the Mage Tower’s ace, and therefore had no reason to bother with anyone but the top-ranked Julianna?
*Fine. From now on, you’re just Grape-Head to me.*
But I didn’t have long to grumble about it internally.
We had three months to make the rounds of every department, doing a little work in each.
As it happened, our first week’s posting was the Black Spoon Division.
And the sight that greeted us on our first day there was…
“Oh my. Good grief.”
Julianna clapped a hand over her mouth.
Every few seconds, with a little *poof*, a fresh document would appear out of thin air.
*A mountain of paperwork, and it’s still growing!*
And the original novel’s male lead, Carlyle Rupesk, stood there staring at the ever-rising pile.
Current heir to the Grand Duke of the North.
He could have coasted comfortably as the Grand Duke’s son, but instead he threw himself into stamping out black magic — the male lead as noblesse oblige personified.
*And, being a proper romance-fantasy male lead, he’s got his own hidden family secret and trauma.*
Which the heroine would no doubt heal, eventually. Not my business.
More to the point, he was staring at the paperwork rising in real time.
With eyes brimming with grief, no less.
I thought of my own past and shut my eyes tight.
*I didn’t get it when I was just reading this.*
A world that turns even the male lead into a miserable office worker!
Truly, utterly harrowing.
Worse than the apocalypse!
“Welcome to the Black Spoon Division, new hires.”
But pain was pain, and work was work.
The male lead pulled himself together and greeted us.
“Have you heard anything about what our department does?”
At his question, the heroine nodded hard.
“Yes, Young Grand Duke Rupesk.”
“There’s no need for that kind of address. This isn’t a ball.”
“Oh — um, but.”
It made sense she’d hesitate — the palace did accept commoner officials now, but—
*That’s a fairly recent development.*
And house Rupesk had stood since the empire’s founding. One of its great houses.
Naturally, when addressing a commoner official, you’d default to using the noble title.
But our workaholic, practical-minded male lead just shook his head.
“Just call me senior, like anyone else here. And — Rowell.”
“Ah, yes.”
“How much do you know about black magic?”
“Black magic refers to magic cast by a person carrying malicious intent.”
*Not just “ugh, my incompetent boss made me work overtime” levels of malice.*
*It has to be hatred fierce enough to want someone utterly destroyed.*
Anything short of that kind of loathing wouldn’t warp an ordinary spell into black magic.
“I understand the Black Spoon Division’s job is to intercept and destroy artifacts that trigger that kind of magic.”
“Good grasp of it. And we happen to be a bit short-staffed lately.”
A bit?
There was an entire second mountain of paperwork forming right now, and he called it “a bit” short-staffed?
He must have caught my expression, because he cleared his throat lightly. Embarrassed, are we?
“Right. Let’s start you three off with some light paperwork. This way.”
Short-staffed enough to throw trainees straight into the fire on day one. What a wonderful work environment.
The male lead led us to a desk where the paper mountain was, at least, a little shorter.
On it sat three vintage typewriters.
This world had no computers, obviously, no internet. Documents got written on these instead.
Then, if you wanted to send something along with it, you tied it to a corner of the page with a length of magic cord, and—
“Ohh.”
Like sending an email attachment, the paper and object vanished with a little *poof*.
“Today we’re starting with the basics. Send a short report to each of the people listed here.”
The male lead handed each of us a stack of documents.
*Oh, straight into the grunt work.*
The romance-fantasy version of printing and photocopying errands! I love it.
But as I looked over the documents, I frowned.
*Hm. The content that needs to go to each person is a little different every time…*
If I didn’t read carefully, this was going to be a headache later.
Just then, Julianna raised her hand, hesitant.
“Um, Rupesk — sir. This is my first time seeing a typewriter like this. Could you explain it one more time?”
“Sure.”
I glanced over as the male lead walked her through it.
For the first time since my memories came back, my heart actually skipped a beat.
*Ohh, that’s a good look right there…*
The heroine’s arc runs “rivalry” with Grape-Head and “you’re interesting” with the mastermind.
And with the male lead, the classic “mutual salvation” story.
Because both the heroine and the male lead lost family to black magic.
*A curse the black mages laid on his house, wasn’t it.*
*”I already know what you’ve been through. So, Crosswell—”*
*”Yes, sir.”*
*”I… want to be able to help you.”*
*”…I do too. I want to be someone you can rely on too, sir.”*
Yeah, go have your pretty little romance, and while you’re at it, sweep up the black magic problem too.
*That’s how I get to live my quiet, salary-collecting life in peace.*
Ha. Listen to me. Nothing but the pettiest, most small-minded thoughts.
Once he finished explaining, the male lead turned to me and Grape-Head and sighed.
“Alright, does anyone else have questions?”
I raised my hand cautiously.
There was one thing I hadn’t gotten an explanation for before starting.
“Um, s— sir?”
“What is it, Rowell?”
“What handwriting style are we standardizing on?”
“Hm?”
Startled, the male lead watched as I picked up a few of the documents.
“It’s just — the formatting seems to match the document’s purpose.”
Some documents used an extremely ornate cursive.
Others used a plain, easy-to-read hand.
*There’s clearly a system to it, but I need this confirmed before I go any further.*
And that was when the male lead’s red eyes flashed.
