The Overburdened Apostle and the Mysterious Investigator

Inside the Mercenary Guild’s third-floor office—

A woman, appearing to be in her fifties, donned her spectacles and meticulously examined the identification document in her hand.

“Special Investigator for the Ninth Apostle Investigation Committee, ID number IVS372850, Miss Aimira Milala… is that correct?”

“Yes, it is a great honor to meet you.”

“Hmm… while I did receive a notification half a month ago, to be frank, your timing isn’t ideal.”

The woman, Dong Anzhu, a mid-level administrator at the Mercenary Guild, offered a wry smile as she observed the person standing before her desk.

Before her stood a young woman of stunning beauty, whose appearance could only be described as breathtaking.

She was quite young, perhaps only sixteen, with features as perfectly sculpted as a doll’s.

Her deep gray eyes shimmered like frosted crystals, while her slender, willow-like brows and delicate nose were masterpieces of artistry.

A beauty mark at the corner of her lips drew the eye, adding a unique charm.

Her raven-black hair cascaded like a waterfall, glossy and vibrant, with soft curls at the ends—a clear sign of meticulous care.

This lustrous mane perfectly complemented her flawless, milky-white skin.

Despite her youth, her attire was surprisingly mature.

She wore a light blue camisole adorned with lace, topped by a pale black open-front cardigan.

A silver necklace graced her throat, and she paired black hot pants with smoke-gray stockings that encased her long legs.

Completing the ensemble were elegant high-heeled ankle boots.

She was truly a fascinating young woman.

A hint of childishness still lingered in her features, yet her dress and demeanor exuded the maturity of an adult, hinting at impeccable upbringing.

The innocence of youth, the poise of maturity, the vigor of a newcomer to the workplace, and an inexplicable aura of a virtuous wife and loving mother—all these seemingly contradictory attributes converged within her.

Yet, remarkably, they blended together without the slightest discord.

“You said ‘not ideal timing’? What exactly do you mean?” Aimira asked, her voice clear and steady, her tone perfectly modulated.

“It’s exactly as it sounds. Lately… ah, well, simply put, remnants of the Dawn’s Light faction might be stirring up trouble, and the beasts from the Abyss are also restless.”

“Sister Milala, though you’ve been dispatched here by the Investigation Committee, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to move about freely these days.”

“I see, that’s a shame…”

“There’s nothing to regret, really. If a figure like the Ninth Apostle had truly appeared here, we would undoubtedly have received word.”

“But he hasn’t, so even if you investigate, you won’t find anything.”

Dong Anzhu shrugged, thinking to herself, ‘This young lady is truly naive enough to take this seriously.’

‘The Investigation Committee clearly just wanted to give this fresh recruit something to do, to help her get accustomed to the work.’

“So, I’ve come all this way for nothing, then…”

Aimira pulled out her mobile terminal, bringing up a photo of a man whose image was etched into everyone’s very DNA (not Tadokoro Koji). She sighed repeatedly.

The young man in the photo possessed a slender build and a handsome face, striking enough to be a supermodel.

His light brown hair was casually tied into a single ponytail that draped over his shoulder, and his deep gray eyes gleamed with a sharp intensity.

He wore an old, peeling jacket over his upper body, paired with faded jeans and cheap hiking boots.

His entire outfit, totaling less than a hundred universal coins, starkly contrasted with his true identity.

Yet, it imbued him with a certain decadent charm, reminiscent of a fallen noble.

The Ninth Apostle, “Warlord” Corvus Archia Lupercal.

He was the man the Committee had relentlessly pursued for two full years, yet failed to apprehend.

He was also Aimira’s idol.

If he couldn’t even be found in Sandra City… how much longer would Aimira have to wait before finally meeting her idol?

“Still, since you’re already here, I might as well give you an overview… Come along.”

Dong Anzhu beckoned to Aimira, who immediately followed, descending the stairs.

“Little Sister Milala, you took the elevator from the side entrance to get to the third floor, didn’t you?”

“That’s right, why do you ask?”

“Oh, nothing much… you’ll see for yourself.”

Following the stairs to the second floor, the primary workspace for most of the administrative staff, Aimira casually glanced around.

Then, her smile froze.

“H-how many more files are there…?”

“Only about a thousand, I suppose…”

“Hurry… before four… we need to generate these forms…”

“Where’s the person in charge of material transfers… find them to get this stamped…”

“Who’s going to run through the process…?”

“Don’t leave, there are still over thirty official documents to write…”

“The mercenaries are already queuing up over there… who’s going to handle them…?”

“Sleepy… so… so sleepy… has the next shift not arrived yet…?”

Office workers, with their sallow complexions, gaunt skin, and heavy shadows beneath their eyes, hurried to and fro throughout the office.

Mountains of files were piled everywhere, office computers incessantly chimed with new message notifications, and dozens of desk phones rang without pause.

“Ms. Dong, this is…?”

“It’s been like this for a week now, with so much work we can barely keep up… Let’s keep going downstairs.”

Soon, the two arrived on the first floor, at the Mercenary Guild’s main hall.

The place was an absolute ant’s nest of activity.

Mercenaries bustled to and fro, each with a hurried expression. The electronic screen on the hall wall continuously displayed new mission reports, and the reception staff operated like machines running at full capacity.

Suddenly—

*Thump!

“Ah, my apologies…”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t watching where I was going…”

A man, cradling a stack of documents, collided with Aimira. He hastily apologized before quickly departing.

He appeared to be one of the employees here; what a tough job…

However…

‘…?’

Aimira watched the man hurry away. Though it was only a fleeting glimpse, she had roughly registered his appearance.

He had a generally handsome face, average height, black hair, and unshaven stubble on his chin. By all accounts, he was simply a tired young man.

Yet, for some inexplicable reason, Aimira felt a mysterious… interest in him.

****

‘I’m going to work myself into a stupor.’

From seven in the morning until eleven at night, seven days a week, with no rest.

After getting home, I’d shower, collapse into bed, and fall asleep in a daze. At 6:30 AM, the alarm would yank me awake, and I’d grab my briefcase, still groggy, heading off to work.

“7117…”

“7117…”

“7117…”

The unrest in the Abyss had drastically increased the incidents of abyssal creatures causing chaos.

Rumors of the Dawn’s Light remnants added extra personnel screening tasks to our workload.

Coupled with numerous personnel transfers and logistical flows, each of us was forced to wear multiple hats.

We’d finish one task only to immediately dive into the next, desperately trying to cram three hours of work into one.

After finally printing the meticulously organized ordnance reports, I clutched the thick stack of papers and hurried towards the second floor.

On the way, it seemed I might have accidentally bumped into a beautiful young woman? My sincerest apologies if that was the case…

“Where’s the stamp? I told you to go to the fourth floor to get it stamped first! What’s wrong with you?”

“Uh, sorry…”

Having been scolded, I stumbled my way up to the fourth floor.

“You need to get the department head’s signature first. She should be working on the third floor.”

“Uh, I’ll go right now…”

It was a wasted trip. I immediately descended to the third floor.

“Department head? If you’re looking for Ms. Dong, she just left with a young lady.”

“Uh, excuse me then…”

“Wait a moment, there’s a new task for you. I recall you have an accounting certificate, don’t you? The new recruit in the finance department fell ill from exhaustion today, so could you help them with this account?”

‘…’

‘I’m completely numb.’

I couldn’t help but recall that year I spent as the Ninth Apostle.

Every single day had been a hellish, nonsensical mission, a non-stop twenty-four-hour grind.

All I got in return was hollow praise and nothing more.

At least as the Ninth Apostle, people still showered me with compliments. But now?

Any idiotic junior supervisor could get on my nerves. Did they really think I wouldn’t take control of their entire family and stage a real-life ‘Mother and Daughter’s Den of Debauchery’…

‘Tsk, what am I even thinking? Calm down!’

…

…

…

And so, one day passed.

Then two.

Then three.

On the evening of the fourth day, I groggily extricated myself from a mountain of documents. Checking the time, I saw it was already midnight.

Without washing my face or brushing my teeth, I collapsed onto the bed in a daze. The overwhelming flood of official documents and reports still swam vividly before my eyes.

‘This won’t do.’

‘Absolutely not.’

‘This absolutely cannot continue.’

It was like a nightmare, reminiscent of the time I first became the Ninth Apostle.

If this continued, I truly would explode.

“…Damn it!”

I slammed my fist onto the bed, hard. (The entire dormitory building seemed to tremble, and I faintly heard someone yell, “Earthquake!?”)

After a moment of thought, I made a decision.

The root cause of all this overtime stemmed from the disturbances caused by abyssal creatures.

‘What if those beasts just settled down…?’

“…There’s no other way. I’ll just have to deal with it myself.”

Leaving traces of my abilities would certainly carry risks. However, if it was within the Abyss… the contaminated energy there could mask any signs of my “Forced Contract.”

As long as I wasn’t directly spotted, it shouldn’t be a major issue.

As the saying goes, ‘You can’t catch a wolf without sacrificing a cub.’

All to end this endless overtime!

No sooner said than done!

With my mind made up, I sprang from the bed and splashed water on my face. I was still in my pajamas…

‘Forget it, too lazy to change. I’ll just head out like this!’