“So, when is the exam for the academy?” I ask the most beautiful redhead I’ve ever seen.

“In a few months,” she says, squinting at the pages of writing she personally drafted for the kind of business I need.

We are in my apartment – I wanted to take a look at all the necessary documents and ask Lucinda a few things about magical cooking, too.

“Your mother seemed very optimistic.”

“[Mana Sense],” Lucinda replies curtly, putting down a sheet of paper and picking up another one.

“Mmm, I guess it is an unfair advantage,” I shrug. “Are the documents looking good?”

“You don’t have a passport nor a certificate of anything,” she groans before placing the papers down and massaging her temples. “Sorry, Joey. It’s... this is a rotten situation. Rotten to the core. I drafted everything, from the special business license request to the documents that define the scope of the business. Also, I drafted your employment contracts for everyone—the one for Aureamanus still lacks a sum, though.”

“Yeah, I told Flavia she needs to figure that out. I gave her a few indications and told her to come up with something, then double it for good measure.”

“You want to gouge Aureamanus?” Lucinda shakes her head. “Obviously. What am I even thinking?”

“Oh, come on. That old dirtbag has money to spare, doesn’t she? And she knows I have a whole bunch of magical wheat burning a hole in my pocket.”

“Right. Have you given some to Flaminia to experiment with?”

I feel a pang of guilt at the question.

“Er... no? I wanted to be there and, you know, brainstorm.”

“You’ll have to delegate more if you want to practice magic and have a business that’s this big.”

I know, Lucinda. I just hate the idea of Flaminia – and you, for what matters – being able to cook magical food while I am stuck practicing Cantrips.

“You are right,” I sigh, jealousy filling me, “I—I will give her some. In the end, you and Flaminia saved my life.”

“And you still can’t give me more details about your crazy training,” Lucinda looks resentful.

“Yeah. Magical NDAs, sorry.”

“Is it the book?” Lucinda suddenly asks out of the blue.

“Huh?”

“The book,” Lucinda points at the Omnium Compendium on my bed, looking all innocent and weak.

“What about the book?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Are you learning magic from that book? Is it a Relic? You’d mentioned you got it from a Dragon’s hoard when I met you, Joey. I thought you were making a part of that up and didn’t want to bother with it, but if that’s a Relic, I wouldn’t just leave it lying around like that. People would kill you for it.”

“People already want to kill me,” I shrug.

“Powerful people would want to kill you.”

“I suspect some already do,” I give Lucinda my custom wink before sighing. “Listen, do you mind if I practice a little while you finish the docs?”

“Here? Are you going to blow the house up?”

“What? Cantrips. I need to practice Cantrips.”

“Oh,” Lucinda frowns.

“Ha! Right, I don’t think I need to hide this. I got an assignment—to practice, like, five-hundred-and-something Cantrips. I’m on the second set.”

I summon a [Light] whose brightness cycles from extremely bright – so much so that Lucinda has to shield her eyes – to almost translucent.

“That is... extreme control,” she mutters.

“Yeah. Gotta manipulate the spell matrix’s... squiggly lines, you know?”

“The what?” Lucinda frowns.

“The squiggly lines?”

“What squiggly lines?” She asks, confused.

“The squiggly lines!”

Lucinda just stares at me blankly.

“Wait, what do you see when you cast a spell matrix?”

“The structure of the spell?” She says.

“Ok, but... what structure?”

“Just the overall shape of the spell to imprint.”

“To what?”

She cannot see the lines of power of a spell matrix. There’s not much you can do with only an inferior version of [Mana Sense]. She would need to evolve her skill through extensive practice, young Luciani. Not everyone is bestowed such a spell onto them by their great teacher.

I hear Magister Mulligan’s voice in my head, explaining the problem at hand.

Huh.

...

The next day, I am at the bakery, still not having resumed my normal duties but planning with Clodia all there’s to do, when Lucinda enters Clodia’s office.

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“They’ve already rejected your application.”

Clodia smacks her lips from behind me.

“Fuck, huh?”

...

We are back at my house with even more documents lying around.

“You need to present a compelling case to the [Mayor],” Lucinda sighs.

“I need to ask for residency to the [Mayor] directly?” I frown.

“Unless, by some rotten coincidence, someone gives you citizenship, that is the only way to get the business open. That or let Aureamanus open it in your place.”

“Not happening,” I say plainly.

“Then, you can only appeal for residency. Joey...” Lucinda hesitates.

“What?”

“The chances of the [Mayor] giving you residency are non-existent. It would kill his support in the city, and he would never get re-elected. He’s not green—he would never commit political suicide like this.”

“Damn, maybe I should commit political homicide, then,” I reply wearily.

“What?!”

“Joking, joking.”

Mostly.

“Show me those papers,” I say, taking some of the documents from Lucinda’s hand and feeling a spike of anxiety in my heart.

Oh, shut up, stupid head.

I force myself to read through some of the laws about Elven residency she’s transcribed for me:

Section I: Eligibility for Elven Residency

* All Elven beings born within the city limits of Amorium automatically qualify for citizenship.

* Non-Elves may apply for residency if they have been continuously living in the city for a minimum of fifteen years and have made significant contributions to the city's growth, culture, or defense.

Section II: Special Exemptions

* Non-Elves who have rendered a significant service to the city and which the council deems as extraordinary can be considered for immediate residency.

* Non-Elves who establish businesses that the council believes will greatly benefit the city's economy or prestige can be reviewed for potential residency.

Section III: Residency Restrictions and Responsibilities

* All non-Elven residents must renew their residency status every five years.

* Residents have the right to own property, start businesses, and partake in public services. However, they do not have the right to participate in the city's political processes unless granted citizenship.

* Failure to adhere to the city's laws and regulations can result in the immediate revocation of the residency status.

“Mh,” I say, taking a deep breath and looking up. “I mean, don’t I qualify for it under Section II?”

“For what?” Lucinda frowns.

“I mean, I did slay a mega-monster down there that could have taken hundreds, possibly thousands of lives. Can’t I get [Captain] Drusillus on my side and have him testify for me?”

“How dangerous was it?” Lucinda cringes. “Unless it could have led to the destruction of a significant part of the city, it would fall under Adventurer duty, now that you are one.”

“I wasn’t one when I went down there, and I can testify under a truth-stone that it would have destroyed a big block of the city had I not intervened.”

“Joey, that would mean you are capable of destroying an entire block of the city. You do realize that, don’t you?”

“Yes, and?”

...

Ok, I was lying a little when I said that I would be able to destroy a whole block, but I’m pretty sure I could put down a couple of buildings without working up too much of a sweat.

Nonetheless, Lucinda made me write down all my application stuff, which did almost make me puke my lunch a couple of times. I have to say, stopping to look at the redhead when I was about to have a small panic attack, looking at how beautiful and reassuring she looked as she worked hard to find more loopholes we could use... it comforted me. It comforted me in a way that I didn’t feel comforted since... well, you know.

“I think I’m done,” I say, handing Lucinda the three pieces of paper I filled out – it was essentially a report.

“We’ll need [Captain] Drusillus to stamp these; let’s go.”

“Do you mind if we take a small detour before?”

...

The giant homeless man looks at the piece of paper with a pensive expression.

“It is, by law, enough.”

Lucinda looks at me weirdly, not understanding why I brought the papers to Stan, of all people. What she doesn’t know is that this man is a part of the main quest—no doubt about it. It would be utterly idiotic not to believe that the mysterious, overpowered homeless man with a dog the size of the Empire State Building is not some hidden expert.

Plus, he looks too bookish for a homeless guy.

“So, I’m good to go? You sure I shouldn’t add more?”

“The laws of Lucerna, child, speak clearly. This? This is, by law, enough. You shall get your residency.”

I turn to Lucinda with a winning smile, who just shakes her head.

“I wish it was that simple,” she says.

“Well, thanks, Stanimal. I’ll bring you some thank-you food later.”

...

Lucinda led me to the Town Hall, a building I didn’t even know existed until now.

“So, a council and the [Mayor]?” I ask.

“Yes,” she nods, taking in the huge building and looking for where we are actually supposed to go.

After she asks a random [Clerk] for directions, we are directed to a small, stark chamber. The sterile ambiance is in strong contrast to the grandeur of the main hall.

“Is this a waiting room?” I ask.

“Sort of,” Lucinda sighs. “They need to take your application, bring it to the [Mayor], let him read it, and wait for him to call you to plead your case.”

“Wow,” I say. “That sounds very convoluted.”

“It is,” she replies.

Before we can even settle down, the door opens with an eerie creak. An elderly Elf, the [Clerk], enters the room, her face a roadmap of years passed. I feel the chill from her icy gaze as she scans me from top to bottom.

“How can I help?” She says, rolling her eyes.

“We are here to present Joey Luciani’s special application for residency and plead his case,” Lucinda explains.

“The Human,” the [Clerk] shakes her head. “Not going to happen.”

“Excuse me?” Lucinda says.

“You can go. The [Mayor] is not going to receive the Human. Don’t waste your time.”

“This is not proper procedure!” Lucinda snaps. “The law—”

“The [Mayor] and the council are the law,” the old [Clerk] deadpans. “You can go.”

My blood boils at her words as I get up from the bench.

The old Joey Luciani would have already fled. At any possible snag in bureaucracy, the old Joey Luciani would have vomited, seized, and called his mother. But the new Joey Luciani? Well, while I do feel like I’m about to shit a brick, I’m not going to bitch out of this.

“Miss, nice to meet you,” I say, “well, it’s not really that nice because you are not being nice. I need you to get this to the [Mayor].”

I take the documents from Lucinda’s hands, walk up to the woman, and extend my hand to her.

“Then, I will explain to the [Mayor] why I need the residency.”

“Your application has already been refused, Human. No legal loophole will permit a Human to be a resident of Amorium and have a business to their name. You want to become a [Merchant] and sell your ware? You might do that. But a resident? Good luck.”

She just turns and is about to leave when I gently pick up her wrist and stop her dead in her tracks.

“Miss, I don’t think you heard me. I’m not leaving,” I punctuate my words with a little yank, pulling the [Clerk] closer.

“Let my arm go before I call the [Watch] on you,” she says, annoyed.

“Oh, my, I’m so scared,” I say with a melodramatic tone.

“You should. This is already a jailable offense.”

I’m losing it.

“Joey, let her go,” Lucinda says worriedly.

Reluctantly, I let her arm go. I didn’t even squeeze it or anything. I was basically just holding it like a cuff.

“Ok, so you are saying that you won’t take this to the [Mayor]’s office? That office?” I point at the large door.

“You are right.”

That said, she disappears behind one of the many doors in this room.

“Joey, it’s fine. We’ll find a way, we can just—”

“Lucinda, we should try one more thing,” I say.

I put the documents back in my bag of holding as I start doing small jumps up and down and waving my arms by my sides, attempting to loosen them up.

“What are you doing?” She asks, confused.

With a big inhale, I lean back as fast as I can.

[Unbreakable Friction]

My left foot is planted on the ground, completely unmoving. The right one goes up, and I lean forward, kicking the [Mayor]’s office door open, pieces of debris flying about from the hit.

Lucinda, surprised but understanding, quietly whispers, “Well, this ought to get their attention.”