What is the most despicable thing in the world? Is it crime, murder, or war? Or is it just... bureaucracy? One can imagine that wars and crime are moved by terrible instincts and by giving in to the worst parts of yourself. But then, what is bureaucracy? Red tape, right? What makes someone go: let's just make everyone's life miserable? Do they think they know any better? Do they imagine society couldn't work without all their little modules?

Hard to say, really. But one thing I do know: if bureaucracy is an infinite Dungeon full of monsters and bitter clerks, the guy in front of me is the final boss.

...

Anger courses through me as the splinters and sawdust from the door are still settling. It felt good to smash this stupid fucking door. It felt good because the one time I actually decided to man up and take care of my shit, some little people decided that no, God forbid, the city gets something good if it means bad political rep.

The partially shattered door slowly tries to swing back on its hinges, creaking loudly and serving as background to the [Mayor] of Amorium staring at me and me staring right back at him.

The office is a sight to behold – gold-trimmed bookshelves overflowing with thick tomes, lush velvet drapes cascading from tall windows, and vibrant carpets. I bet the [Mayor] loves his fancy setup.

And speaking of the mayor, there he is, right behind an overly polished mahogany desk. His eyes, round as saucers, can't seem to decide whether to be angry, scared, or just flat-out shocked. Maybe a mixture of all three. The pudgy, well-dressed guy with a carefully groomed beard and shiny cufflinks takes a deep breath and calms himself.

"To what I owe this visit?" He acts as if it wasn't me barging into his office, and I decide to play along.

"Hello, [Mayor]," I say, getting closer to the desk, sitting on the other side from him, and taking out the documents for my residency application. "These are the documents that your [Clerk]... forgot—yeah, forgot to bring you. So, I thought I would bring them to you myself, together with my liaison."

The [Mayor] looks behind my back at Lucinda and then nods to himself.

"Sure, let's take a look," he takes the documents from my hands and reads them carefully. In the meanwhile, I gesture to Lucinda to take a seat.

"Well, Mr. Luciani," the [Mayor] says after a couple of minutes of rustling through the papers. "Everything seems to be in order."

"So, can I have my residency and my business application approved?" I ask, an edge of anger creeping into my voice as I anticipate a negative response.

"Mr. Luciani," the [Mayor] clears his voice. "First of all, feel free to call me Drusus. That is my name. Second, after introducing myself to you, I would like to explain the problem at hand if you don't mind."

"Please, do," I say, raising an eyebrow.

"Mr. Luciani, I don't have any personal animosity toward you. The thing is, though, you will not find a way to live in this city without being constantly harassed. You have just gone through a Military Duel. We haven't had one in a while. You do realize that means people here don't like you."

"They like my bread, my money, and my help slaying monsters," I say.

"Oh, I'm sure they do, Mr. Luciani. I'm not naive. But... you might be."

"Excuse me?" Lucinda says from the side.

"Miss Ennia," the [Mayor] addresses Lucinda by her last name, "I'm sure you advised this young man against this. You know what I'm talking about. Wouldn't it be much easier for both of you to use a proxy to open this business? Mr. Luciani, I have no intention of being in the way of you and your business. But my arms are fully under the ground and tied by roots."

"Wait, are you openly suggesting to have someone else put their name to the business?"

"You already work for Aureamanus's daughter, don't you? What, you thought a Human like you could live in my city and that I wouldn't know about it?" Drusus, the [Mayor], sighs. "You could have Aureamanus draft the business, Mr. Luciani."

I hear Lucinda clearing her throat since it's the same suggestion she made multiple times.

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"Drusus," I say, calling the [Mayor] by his name. "I need to ask: what do you know about being a man?"

"Sorry?" The [Mayor] looks confused.

"It's a simple question," I say, "what do you know about what it takes to be a man? You think that stepping down, eating shit when I don't have to, not being true to who I am, and cowering in fear is the way I become a man?"

"Mr. Luciani," the [Mayor] chews on his answer for a second. "Your ideas are those of a [Philosopher]. But I am no more than a meager servant to the people of Amorium. And the people don't want your name on an Elven business."

"It's easy to call them ideas—as if they weren't real, right?" I ask the [Mayor].

"It definitely makes it easier to do what has got to be done."

We stare at each other as I evaluate the next step. The [Mayor] is not some racist idiot; he's just a cog in the big machine, and he knows that he's one. There's nothing particularly wrong with him more than there's something wrong with society at large.

"I have to make countless decisions for this city," Drusus suddenly says, "not many of them are easy. This one, too, young man, is not easy. Business, prosperity... those are all good things for Amorium. I hear from [Captain] Drusillus's report that you did a fine service to the city in the Dungeon. I sincerely thank you for that."

"Well, it doesn't seem like it's going to have any usefulness at all," I scoff.

"It doesn't," the [Mayor] nods, "but only if you look at this from the point of view of your applications. I know, Mr. Luciani, about what you are doing for the homeless population of Amorium. Many do. Yet, many still don't believe you have good intentions. Some postulated that you are trying to incite a revolt."

"Crazy world we live in if feeding homeless people and getting them jobs is controversial, isn't it?"

"Not crazy," the [Mayor] grimaces. "It's always been like this. People are suspicious. They don't like change. But who knows, in time, you might find a home here."

I look at the man and scratch the stubble on my chin.

"So, you don't see me as a disruptor, a nuisance to be eliminated?" I ask, getting more and more curious about this old, pudgy man. I had expected him to be a racist piece of crap, but he's... reasonable. Well, as reasonable as a government official can be. Political, perhaps.

As we continue to converse, it starts to dawn on me that the [Mayor]'s intentions go beyond just the surface-level discussions about bureaucratic hurdles and city policies. There's a glint in his eyes, a certain cageyness in the way he chooses his words. "Mr. Luciani, you think I just see you as an obstacle, a fly to swat away? No, I see potential."

Drusus leans forward, his fingers tentatively touching the papers on the desk. "You've been quite the topic of conversation lately, Mr. Luciani. The city's buzzing about you."

"I don't like what you are saying. And you make it sound like I'm some sort of a celebrity," I retort.

"Not a celebrity, no. More like a storm that's rolled into town. Unpredictable, stirring things up." He glances at the shattered remnants of the door. "Very unpredictable."

"But you know, every storm has a silver lining, and perhaps we can find yours," he continues, his tone taking on a softer, more contemplative note.

It's hard to read him. I had entered the room with clear antagonism toward this figure, but his calm demeanor and unexpected candor were disarming. "Silver lining, huh? Is this the way you try to recruit me into some shady schemes?"

The mayor chuckles, "No, not a scheme. But every action, every event, can be turned into an advantage. You have the city's attention now. What you do with it can shape the future, for better or worse."

He leans back, letting the words settle. "Aside from your... abrupt entrance, your passion is commendable. And passion is a tool, Mr. Luciani. But when wielded poorly, it can cut the user."

I raise an eyebrow, feeling the weight of his words. "So, what are you suggesting?"

The mayor pauses, selecting his words with care. "I think there's a way we can both get what we want. You wish for your residency, your business. I wish for a city that thrives, even if it means making unconventional choices."

Lucinda chimes in, her voice cutting through the thick tension, "What's the catch?"

Drusus smiles at her, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "There's always a catch, Miss Ennia. Joey becomes a symbol, a beacon. He has already gained a reputation. Some adore him, some fear him, but all watch him. With the right push, he can become a figurehead, a poster child for change and progress."

It's a lot to digest. I've never considered myself a pawn in anyone's game, let alone a mayor. But here he is, laying it all out, not as a threat but as an opportunity.

The sound of armored footsteps interrupts my musing. They’re getting louder and closer. I glance at Lucinda, who has gone pale. She knew what was coming even before I did.

"Unfortunately, our hands might be tied soon, and for now, Mr. Luciani, I need you more as a poster for my campaign than one for the city," Drusus remarks, almost regretfully.

As the door bursts open and [Guards] flood in, weapons glinting menacingly, I stand up. If Drusus wanted to make a move, this would be it. Yet, his demeanor remains unchanged.

"You have a choice, Mr. Luciani. Play the game or get played. I suggest the former."

Before I can respond, the guards are upon me. My heart races and the reality of my situation crashes down.

This motherfucker played me well.

Drusus rises slowly, his silhouette framed by the luxurious backdrop of his office. "We'll meet again. Decide on your role in this city by then."

"Oh, and please, [Guards], leave Miss Ennia alone. I'm sure she has more important magical business to take care of than spending her time in jail."

After that, my path out of the mayor's chambers is a blur—gilded frames, ornate vases, and the distant echo of muffled voices.

As the final door slams shut behind me, I'm left in a dimly lit corridor, the cold grasp of the guards my only companions.

I'm going to fucking jail, aren't I?

The magnitude of my actions, the choices that lay ahead, and the vast, intricate web of Amorium politics loom large above me.