Location: Guild Administration Hall – Morning
Itsuki Hiroto arrived at the Guild Administration Hall to the sound of quills scratching frantically and the faint groan of filing cabinets under siege. The vaulted chamber—lined with towering shelves of ledgers, parchment scrolls, and dusty stamp sets—seemed alive with bureaucratic fury. At its center sat the Audit Tribunal: a semicircle of raised desks behind which sat three stern‑faced guild elders, each flanked by two armored clerks wielding quill‑tipped daggers.
Hiroto paused in the doorway. He still wore his flour‑stained baker's cloak, now bearing the insignia "Regional Logistics Commander" in gilded thread. A hush fell among the scribes and porters. Even the steam rising from his noodles earlier had not commanded such immediate attention.
Elder Vantor, the lead auditor, peered over half‑moon spectacles. "Commander Hiroto," he intoned, voice echoing off stone. "In light of recent… unprecedented events, the Guild Council has ordered a full internal audit of your division's accounts, operations, and moral character." He tapped a ledger with a quill. "You will answer all inquiries with precision and transparency."
Hiroto swallowed. "An audit?"
Elder Vantor sighed. "You are graded on accuracy, compliance, and—should any discrepancies arise—willingness to correct them. Failure to satisfy the Tribunal may result in… removal from office."
Behind Vantor, Elder Mirith glared. "Or earlier demise—should the need arise."
Hiroto's pulse slammed against his skull. "D‑demise?"
Elder Kirsha, draped in embroidery of mauve scrollwork, leaned forward. "Guild factions have grown restless. Some believe your power eclipses the Guildmaster's authority. This audit is… precautionary."
As the Tribunal rattled off statutes and fine‑print charges, Sera tensed at Hiroto's side. Virelya stood guard in the corner, hand on her sword's hilt. Two hulking figures in black leather—the assassins turned disciples—hovered behind Hiroto, eyes vigilant.
Location: Audit Chamber – Mid‑Morning
Hiroto was led into the Audit Chamber, a smaller annex lined with desks, inkpots, and piles of "urgent memoranda." Each desk was manned by a pair: a nervous junior clerk and a silent page carrying a dirk. The air smelled of candle‑wax and fear.
Elder Vantor gestured to a polished oak table. "Begin with your operational logs." He produced a thick ledger stamped with the Wax of Verification. "Present last quarter's requisition reports."
Hiroto sat, cleared his throat, and opened his own logs—a neat stack of ledgers bound by red ribbon. He traced his finger down columns: grain shipments, crate tallies, supply requisitions. "Here are the logs as submitted. Everything matches the Imperial stables' receipts."
The junior clerk—a pale halfling—scanned the pages, eyes widening. "Sir… this is impeccably organized." He whispered to his partner, who shrugged and nodded.
Virelya murmured, "Impeccable courts aren't always safe courts."
Elder Mirith whispered across the table, "Proceed to personnel records."
Hiroto lifted the next bundle. "Here are the staff rosters, hiring approvals, and leave requests"—he rattled off each document—"including Sera's emergency leave for potion mishaps, Virelya's rotational duty logs, and the two… err… security appendices for… specialized recruits."
He hesitated. "The security recruits—"
The silent pages at the rear straightened. One unsheathed his dirk edge, another tilted a quill like a second blade.
Hiroto gulped. "—the ex‑assassins provided cleaning services and tactical escort. Their records are here." He slid a sealed folder across.
Elder Kirsha snapped it open. "They bear the mark of the Black Fang Syndicate." Her voice sharpened. "Explain how and why you hired them."
Hiroto's brain whirled. "They… they attempted my life… but were converted by my sleep wards… and now they… serve Logis‑"
Elder Mirith banged a fist on the table. "Salvation through slumber does not exempt professionalism!"
He glanced at the dagger‑pages, whose blades gleamed. "They've signed service contracts under my seal," Hiroto said, voice trembling. "I… invoked executive authority."
Virelya stepped forward. "They were volunteers once they witnessed his ward."
Mirith's eyes narrowed. "You cannot hide behind miracles, Commander. This audit will continue through every crevice of your authority."
Location: Guild Hall Library – Noon
Summoned next to the Guild Hall Library, Hiroto faced a row of glass‑cased archives and ancient scroll vaults. Elder Vantor held a rolled parchment. "Next: compliance with archival protocol. Show that no documents under your purview are missing or altered."
Hiroto closed his eyes, pressing a hand to his forehead. His accidental feats of power had unsealed ancient relics—he had a bad feeling about "unaltered documents." He swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and placed his palm on the vault's glass.
Faint runes glowed; the glass shook. The scrolls within rearranged themselves, returning to their original positions. Then a battered scroll slid free, landing at his feet. Its title read "Records of the Dragon Incident."
Vantor gasped. "How did… that scroll vanish from our records three days ago?"
Hiroto picked it up. "I… fixed it when I rescued the Emperor's envoy." He handed it over. "It… must have slipped."
Virelya murmured, "Or it was never missing—only hidden."
Mirith snatched the scroll. "We'll inspect every parchment, every rune. Nothing escapes this Tribunal."
As the elders eyed him with grim determination, Hiroto realized that this was no ordinary audit: it was an interrogation by paper and steel, where every signature had blade‑sharp stakes.
Location: Grand Guild Meeting Room – Mid‑Afternoon
The final stage awaited in the Grand Guild Meeting Room: a vast circular chamber with a dais at its center and catwalks above for senior auditors to watch. Dozens of guild factions' representatives filled every bench, clutching ink‑stained petitions.
At the dais, the three elders presided, quills poised like judges' gavels. A hush fell as Hiroto and his retinue stepped forward.
Elder Kirsha spoke solemnly: "Commander Hiroto, the audit has uncovered minor clerical errors—misfiled receipts, irregular routing codes, and a few 'miraculous' ledger corrections. These irregularities demand a final test: a Paperwork Duel."
A collective gasp rose.
Hiroto's eyes widened. "Paperwork… duel?"
Elder Mirith smiled coldly. "Each side presents an argument in five scrolls. You defend your records; they attack them. The first to run out of valid citations… loses.`
Sera paled. "He runs out of citations?!"
Virelya sheathed her concerns. "Then we must win quickly."
At benches flanking the dais, the opposing faction—led by the dour Clerk‑Commander Veslin—smirked and produced stacks of counter‑petitions. Veslin drummed his fingers. "I've waited months for this chance."
Hiroto took a trembling breath, glancing at his quill. "May the calmest clerk win?"
Location: Grand Guild Meeting Room – Late Afternoon
The duel began. Scroll one: Hiroto presented his supply‑chain logs; Veslin countered with a footnote on storage fees. Scroll two: Hiroto's personnel approvals; Veslin cited irregular signature alignments. Scroll three: Hiroto's recalibrated ledgers; Veslin challenged an amendment date.
Each scroll triggered a beep‑like chime from the warded dais. Spectators leaned forward; pages rustled like distant thunder. Sera whispered each citation; Virelya held back smug challengers.
At scroll four, Hiroto felt his quill falter. His logs were immaculate—too immaculate, perhaps. Veslin seized the moment: "Your signature matrix shows duplication. Care to explain copying your own script?"
Hiroto's heart raced. He flicked to a hidden annotation in his ledger: the "Miracle Yawn" appended by archived witness statements—proof of authenticity. He slapped the annotation onto the dais. The chime rang true. Veslin's challengers hissed.
At scroll five, Hiroto presented the dragon‑incident records uncovered in the vault—complete with Imperial envoy affidavits and Demon King's seal. Veslin scowled. He rifled through his petitions, finding no further refutation. Defeated, he slammed his hand on the table.
"Fine!" he growled. "You've bested me—on paper. The audit is… concluded."
A triumphant chime echoed as the dais's runes dimmed. The elders nodded gravely. Elder Vantor stood. "Commander Hiroto, by this victory, you have proven your record's integrity. The audit is closed."
Hiroto exhaled, quill clattering to the floor. He swayed, exhaustion washing over him.
Location: Guild Administration Hall – Evening
Word spread through the Administration Hall like wildfire: the audit ended, the Commander vindicated. Clerks bowed, porters cheered, and the former assassins turned cleaners raised a salute.
Virelya guided Hiroto out: "I suggest you go home now, before they petition you for a Medal of Scriptural Valor."
Sera grinned, draping an "Audit Champion" sash across his shoulders. "Officially undefeated in a duel of papers."
Hiroto rubbed his temples, voice hoarse. "Next time I get an appointment… remind me to retire."
They passed under banners that had been swiftly repainted:
"Hiroto, Master of Filing and Fate"
As the evening sky deepened, Hiroto finally allowed himself a small, grateful smile—knowing that in this world of endless chaos and assassins‑disguised‑as‑auditors, he had survived another day by nothing more than clerkly precision… and a miraculous runic yawn.
And as the Guild's doors closed behind him, he wondered whether tomorrow's paperwork might finally grant him the peace of mind to boil simple noodles—and perhaps, for once, leave the world's fate unfiled.