How to Survive as a Dungeon Manager in Another World

19 – It Seems the Repairs Weren’t Thorough Enough

The day after finishing all my business and returning to the office.

I was roughly tidying up and reviewing the contents of my report, when…

Adina, who guards the door, reported that someone had come to see me.

“Already arrived?”

The identity of those who had come to find me was obvious.

If they were two noblemen in formal attire, they were undoubtedly from the Imperial Household Agency, and their visit here must be for the purpose of comprehensively evaluating my work performance as the administrator of Blackmoore.

Starting with the overall assessment of the managed area, down to the minor details of my conduct as an official.

Of course, I had prepared only for today, so there were no flaws that they could point out. Frankly, I wasn’t greatly worried.

There was no need to worry in the first place.

At least here in Blackmoore, I am king.

Whomever I employ, however I manage, as long as I don’t cross the line, even the Imperial Family cannot openly interfere.

Such is the authority of a Special Inspector.

If I only kept in mind a few restrictions designated by the Imperial Family, there was no need to be anxious.

It was, in fact, merely a formality, but I was still so mindful because it was customary.

In any case, I was just a low-ranking official with no backing.

There was nothing to gain from leaving a bad impression, and their evaluation of me would have a considerable impact on my future promotions.

The reason I organized the report as soon as I arrived at the office, and cleaned the path they would take, was for that reason.

To live a government official’s life of ease, it was necessary to leave a good impression on them.

I needed to leave the impression that I was this competent so that they would value it highly and later seat me in a key position.

“Adina.”

“Why do you call?”

“Escort them here. Politely. Don’t utter any nonsense.”

“Me? I’m sorry, but I can’t pay such respect to dogs of the Imperial Family…”

“Shall I call Ludine?”

“…but I will endure it for your sake!”

Adina turned her head sharply and strode out of the office.

The effect of the household education I had given her previously.

I turned my head back and cleared my desk again.

He hummed a leisurely tune, pouring pre-prepared tea into a cup.

“Fine weather, indeed.”

Krattann, Director-General of the Internal Affairs Bureau.

And Arda Merdayl, a high-ranking minister of the Empire.

Following the men of indistinct origins, they scanned their surroundings, their faces taut with apprehension.

“……”

Leaving aside the neatness of the office, the sheer number of people was strangely disconcerting.

Roughly twenty, give or take?

Even the corridors they passed were guarded, with someone standing sentry at every vantage point. The astonishing part… according to the whispered words of their escort, each of them were powerhouses, on par with the knights of Master-grade status from the star cluster.

Not just one or two, but at least twenty… such figures, each possessing martial prowess ranked among the Empire’s finest, gathered in one place?

And all to follow a mere junior official?

To them, outsiders, the current situation was not just unfamiliar, but preposterous.

Reaching the office entrance, Adina, who had been waiting patiently, sized them up and down.

She spoke with a touch of aloofness, as if tossing off a casual remark.

“I’m Adina. Follow me to the reception… no, I shall guide you.”

Ears, pert and perked.

A silver tail, swaying enticingly.

Seeing features no human could possess, a moment of profound question and bewilderment flickered across their faces.

It was inevitable.

That was clearly…

“A beastkin…?”

Beastkin.

A bellicose race that reveled in combat and venerated strength.

Unbowed by anyone, and fundamentally reclusive, forming isolated communities apart from humans.

But what, in the world, was such a being doing here…?

“…Minister, that’s not just any beastkin.”

“Explain yourself.”

“A fox beastkin. Judging by the white tail and violet pupils… most likely a member of the White-haired clan.”

“…Did you say the White-haired clan?”

The Whitehair Clan.

One of the three Beastfolk tribes who claim a divine beast as ancestor.

Renowned for their arcane magic, fueled by the White Mana unique to their race, they were infamous even among Beastfolk for their animosity towards humans.

Their bonds were unusually strong, their temperament fiercely combative, so even the Imperial Family tended to avoid friction with them…

“What in the world are the Whitehair Clan doing here?”

“…I have no idea.”

They moved forward, expressions blank.

Suddenly, a rumor that had lately shaken society circles flitted through their minds.

The outlandish notion that Luke Richter was the shadowy hand behind the Empire.

Just then.

“Please, come in.”

Adina opened the door and spoke to them.

Stepping inside, they saw a handsome young man seated, leisurely enjoying tea.

From his attire to the setting, he seemed to have meticulously considered the formality of the occasion, but, contrasting with this careful attention, his face was frozen, as if devoid of emotion.

“It is an honor to meet you. I am Luke Richter, appointed Special Inspector.”

“…I am Kraton, Director-General of the Department of Internal Affairs. Beside me is Minister Arda Merdaile.”

“I am glad the tea has not grown cold. Please, take a seat.”

A voice that resonated softly.

Though he maintained decorum, an inexplicable tension lingered in his dispassionate and cool tone, preventing them from relaxing their guard.

Now, even they could no longer fail to realize it.

The over twenty Master-level powerhouses who followed him, and the conversation that hinted at a connection to the Whitehair Clan…

Their instincts, honed by decades within the Imperial Family, were screaming.

The man before them was no mere low-ranking official.

“…Might I ask a straightforward question?”

“Please, ask anything.”

“Earlier, the skill of those guarding the office was…remarkable. I heard they are your direct subordinates, is that true?”

“……”

He seemed to hesitate, as if contemplating something, then nodded in affirmation.

“That is as you say.”

The room fell silent.

A strange stillness passed, and then they spoke again.

“The one guiding us was of the White Hair clan, I noticed.”

“…Did he, by chance, commit some discourtesy?”

“Nay, nothing of the sort. I merely wondered what connection you might have with the White Hair folk.”

“Ah, they are simply companions I joined along the way.”

“Joined? A White Hair with a human?”

“Aye, it happened quite by accident.”

Seated opposite, Luke sighed, a self-deprecating smile gracing his lips.

The memory of her blasting a hole in his roof, claiming to be guarding the house, flashed through his mind.

It was but a fleeting shift in expression, yet the Minister noticed, and swallowed deeply.

“If your curiosity is sated, may I begin my report?”

“…Proceed.”

“First, I shall detail the progress of the exploration within our assigned sector.”

Luke recited the prepared lines, as smoothly as flowing water.

Having lived as a modern man for several decades, organizing and delivering a coherent report was no difficult task for him.

It was merely a formality, after all.

Across from him, Kraton and Arda stared at Luke, as if utterly dumbfounded.

The report continued for some time, until Arda, who had been listening intently, interrupted with a look of astonishment.

“Hold. You cleared a labyrinth?”

“Indeed.”

“The labyrinth’s name?”

“Tartazan, it is called.”

Luke and Kraton exchanged a glance.

Kraton stifled a sigh, as if utterly flabbergasted.

But it didn’t end there.

“As for the Shadow Syndicate, you needn’t fret. I received assurances from Archduke Arkan himself that no further accountability will be demanded.”

“…”

The head of the Arkan Council, a massive organization that divided the Empire.

Seeing him speak as if acquainted with Arkan, a titan of the Empire’s highest echelon, one couldn’t help but lament.

“Here is a list of the magical beasts eliminated thus far.”

“…That’s…excessive.”

“The corpses are gathered separately, in the back.”

“……”

It exceeds three digits.

…He dealt with all of this?

“You took care of all these demonic beasts…?”

“Ah, I have friends that look after the house, separately.”

“…Look after the house?”

He raised his fingertips, indicating the window.

The astonishing spectacle that unfolded there left Krathan and Arda no choice but to gape in shock.

The Whitefur beastkin from before was unleashing a terrifying, almost soul-snatching, arc of light, incinerating any demonic beast that dared approach.

Beside him, a silver-haired girl stood, her hair whipping around her as she slashed a dagger through the air. A massive, razor-sharp line bisected the demonic beasts in a single stroke.

Watching them, the two men trembled, their expressions a complex weave of emotions.

Luke, observing them, spoke.

“Has your curiosity been satisfied?”

To them, the question felt strangely, even disturbingly, ominous.

They had been sitting there, lost in thought, carefully choosing their words.

Crack.

A foreboding sound echoed from the ceiling.

It was because the hole that Adina had punched through, claiming she was going to catch a demonic beast, hadn’t been repaired yet.

Cracks spread like a spider’s web.

All eyes turned to the ceiling.

And…

Crrrrrack—!

Before anyone could speak, the ceiling’s debris began to rain down.

They were about to hastily flee, but paused in unison.

The tattoo beneath Luke’s right eye, as he leisurely watched the ceiling, pulsed with a cerulean light.

Immediately after.

“———”

He murmured something…

—A start! A flinch!

“!!!!”

The fragments raining down froze, suspended in the air as if embalmed.

It was as though the space they occupied had become a vacuum; a most bizarre spectacle.

Luke rose from his seat with leisurely grace.

He ambled over, as if taking a stroll, and picked at the petrified shards hanging above their heads.

Deliberately, one by one, he nudged them aside, muttering something under his breath…

*Kwa-GWA-Gwang!*

The fragments cascaded down.

The air, once thickly embroidered with debris, plummeted directly to the floor.

Only the space where Kraton and Arda stood remained unscathed.

“…”

Kraton and Arda’s faces drained of all color, becoming deathly pale.

They looked at the space where they had been sitting, then back at Luke, their gaze alternating between the two.

He scratched his head, then offered,

“My apologies. Seems the repairs are not quite finished.”

“…”

A light smile touched his lips.

As if nothing of consequence had occurred.