Chapter 13: Today Once Again, the Anonymous Client Put Human Extinction on Hold

Morning at the guild. Looking at the billing invoice for the training grounds that had been half-destroyed in yesterday’s mock battle, I let out a deep sigh.

“…Half of my salary this month is gone.”

This, too, was entirely the fault of the great monster showdown caused by the “proof of recovery” of a genius mage and the “jealousy” of the guild’s exclusive solo swordswoman. Even though I had shouted that it wasn’t a group session, my voice didn’t reach anyone’s ears on a battlefield where magic and sword pressure flew about.

Gathering myself, I opened the “Mental Health Consultation Desk Suggestion Box” installed at the corner of the counter. Inside, a single high-quality white envelope sat all alone.

There was no sender’s name. However, I recognized this abnormally elegant handwriting and the envelope with its faintly noble scent.

“…It came again, huh.”

I cut the seal with a paper knife and took out the contents. It was a reply from the sender who had previously sent in an anonymous consultation of an overwhelmingly massive scale: “I am hesitating over whether I should destroy humanity.” Last time, with the energy of my regular duties, I had posted a public reply on the bulletin board: “Before making an irreversible decision, please list about three reasons why you want to destroy them in bullet points.”

I opened the letter.

Dear Person in Charge of the Mental Health Consultation Desk, As you instructed, I have organized the reasons I wish to destroy them into three points.

1. 1. Mental exhaustion from repeated betrayals and mutual misunderstanding.

1. 1. The extremely high inefficiency of dialogue as a method.

1. 1. Their very existence is an eyesore.

For the above reasons, I believe it is still more rational to erase them all at once. What do you think?

“…The third one is just an emotional argument, isn’t it?”

I muttered a useless retort all by myself at the empty counter. They seemed to be speaking logically, but ultimately they were trying to erase all of humanity because they were “an eyesore.” It was highly disturbing, but the structure of their worries just looked like they were “bad at organizing their emotions.”

I took out a fresh piece of parchment from the drawer and readied my pen.

Thank you for your reply. Good work putting your reasons into words. Regarding points 1 and 2, there is room for consideration, but reason 3 is highly subjective and emotional. Making an irreversible decision in this state has a high probability of leading to regret. First, how about narrowing down the subject and organizing “whose” and “what kind of betrayal” was the primary cause?

Scratch, scratch. I wrote out my reply in dead earnest, with the energy of my regular duties.

“…Nagi. Are you playing along with that prank again?”

Suddenly, a clear voice came from my side. Standing in front of the counter before I knew it was Fran, clad in her dark blue robe. Perhaps she felt refreshed from yesterday’s mock battle, but her complexion was good today too. However, her expression was just a little stiff.

“Good morning, Fran. It might be a prank, but as long as it comes in as a consultation, I’ll handle it.”

“How dutiful. …Let me see.”

Fran peered at my hands and silently read the reply I had written. Then, she furrowed her eyebrows just a bit.

“…’Before making an irreversible decision, narrow down the subject and organize it.’ Without denying the other party’s extreme thoughts, you drag their emotions back into the arena of logic and provide them with a new standard, don’t you.”

“Well, that’s how it ends up, yes.”

“It’s the exact same approach as when I consulted you about ‘not being able to give myself permission to rest.’ You really do hand out ‘auxiliary lines to help them stop’ to anyone like that, don’t you.”

Fran’s blue eyes stared intently at me. Mixed within that gaze was not just her usual intellectual coldness, but a faint wavering — something akin to impatience.

“…I thought you had accurately pointed out the bug in my self-management and given me a standard exclusively for me.”

“I did create lifestyle rules exclusively for you, you know.”

“Yes. But that ‘sincerity’ itself is not mine alone. You face even a completely unknown madman trying to destroy this world with that exact same sincerity.”

Fran pursed her lips tightly. It was the moment the fact she believed she was being “specially managed” began to waver. She had realized that Nagi wasn’t just looking at her — that he “acts as a counselor equally to anyone.”

“Fran. I’m a counselor at the reception desk. It’s my job to help anyone organize their thoughts in the exact same way.”

“…I understand that.”

Fran let out a small breath, regaining her usual calm expression. However, the temperature of her words dropped significantly, becoming much heavier than before.

“But, Nagi. It is highly irrational to let my functionality maintenance rely solely on verbal promises and that ‘goodwill directed at anyone’ of yours.”

“…Excuse me?”

“I never know when another client might steal your resources. In fact, that A-Rank swordswoman stray dog is prowling around you right now.”

Clack. Fran tapped the tip of her staff against the floor.

“——Who are you calling a stray dog?!?!”

Lise, who had been practicing her swings in the training grounds, barged in shouting. She had ears like a bat. Even a demon would be surprised. As I patted the excited Lise’s head to calm her down, I urged Fran to continue.

“Ambiguous operations increase the failure rate. In order to make my rest management absolute, a more robust system is required.”

“You say system, but I’m a human being.”

“That’s right, that’s right! Nagi is a human!”

Lise sure is dog-like, though.

“Then, at the very least, your management of me must be bound as a ‘system.'”

Fran pierced me with clear eyes that held absolutely no hesitation. Deep within those eyes shone an overwhelming “possessiveness” — an intent to completely enclose me within a cage called logic.

“Tomorrow, I will bring a formal ‘Exclusive Rest Management Contract.’ I also intend to obtain the Guild Master’s approval.”

“…Huh?”

“Well then, see you tomorrow. Nagi.”

Fran gave an elegant bow, grabbed Lise by the scruff of the neck, and dragged her away, her robes fluttering as she left the guild. A flawless retreat that didn’t even leave an opening to stop her.

Left behind, I looked back and forth between the “Response to Human Extinction” in my hands and the door Fran had just walked through.

The anonymous client put human extinction on hold again today. However, thanks to the magic called “systematization” cast by the genius mage, it seemed my peaceful everyday life was guaranteed to face the crisis of extinction tomorrow.