After a couple of turns, we are finally in front of the Watch building. It's an imposing construction that resembles a small castle. It's fortified with external walls, like a keep. And a bunch of armored [Guards] are going in and out. Now that I think about it, it's probably one of those medieval things—[Guards] kind of double as soldiers if they need to, right?

Anyway, it gives off the feeling that anyone foolish enough to assault it would instantly die. And die a terrible death.

The houses around it are dwarfed by its magnificence, making it stick out like a sore thumb. Lucillus and Antoninus look at the building with a neutral expression – I guess they have seen it enough times not to be surprised anymore.

There is quite a traffic in this place. Do these Elves love bureaucracy? God, I hope not.

We pass the open gate while Lucillus and Antoninus nod at people here and there, and I’m simply looking around, deeply curious about this world. I guess that's what happens when you are cannonballed into a different world—you stare at a lot of things.

Are some of those 'things' hot Elven women? We'll never know.

When I enter the Watch building, I find many more guards than I had imagined, bustling about, some cleaning armor in the main hall, some chatting and waiting for their shift turns, and others just, well, guarding. Plus, there’s a massive desk with a whole lot of clerks behind it and many long queues in front of it.

My brain, still shell-shocked from the change of worlds, finally realizes something. I’m going to interact with one of the most hellish races that have been plaguing Earth since time immemorial. Their name snakes around my ears with all the hate, spite, and horror of their profession.

Clerks.

Once, we were an idyllic society that solved problems by whamming clubs at each other's heads. And if you wanted to build your mud hut in the middle of the settlement, you could—unless you got whammed across the head, that is. But still! The power was once shared among people and their wooden dispensers of democracy, as well as common sense.

But one dark day, something truly queer happened to Humanity.

And Elven-ity, I suppose.

Black tendrils of power came from the deepest recesses of the Earth, the work of Shub-Niggurath himself. They found purchase in the hearts of the most wicked, gibbous, and demonic people. Their minds became twisted as if parasitic fungi refused a symbiotic exchange so that they could infest with malicious tenebrae the light of Humankind.

Suddenly gone were the days of whamming and clubs, only to be replaced by long queues and wrong tickets.

"Why has he stopped?" Antoninus asks.

"I have no idea. Human? Human! Move on! You are blocking the entrance!"

"Sorry, guys, I don't deal with clerks and queues," I give them an apologetic smile. "I'm allergic to paperwork— quite literally."

"[Clerks]?" Antoninus looks confused. "You need to have a magical interview. We have a room in the back for that. You don’t need to talk to [Clerks] now."

I almost vomit as a form of relief.

My mother told me I needed to see a psychiatrist about this thing with clerks and paperwork so many times. And not about this issue only. But yeah, the psychiatrists didn't really help, as you can see.

I swear to God, I’d rather jump off the Brooklyn Bridge on a cold night than talk to a clerk.

Head-first, too.

“But you will need to get in the civilians’ queue on your own if the interview reveals that you do not pose a danger to the city," Lucillus explains.

I look at him and nod, trying to find the most rational response.

“Can I be put in prison instead?”

“Huh?” Antoninus stops midway, comes back to us, and looks at Lucillus, maybe thinking there was a joke he didn’t get.

“What?” Lucillus asks.

“Prison. I’d like to be put in prison. I’m not going through any forms or documents or, God forbid, and Jesus forgive me for saying their hellish name, a lawyer.”

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Once, my mother had to come to pick me up from the Police station because I had a car accident and refused to even look at the insurance forms. When she appeared with a lawyer, I almost flipped. An officer tackled me while I tried to run away. Don’t get me wrong, I had already signed everything after my mother had read the documents, but I was not spending another second in the company of one of those devilish creatures.

Turns out that trying to sprint through a Police station is not a smart move and that a 240-pound officer can – and, most importantly, will – bruise your ribs with a tackle.

When my mother explained why I was running, half the station started laughing so hard that a couple of perps almost managed to escape.

But I’m digressing.

So, I state my intentions with utmost calm and rationality.

“I would rather get thrown in prison for a month than go through that queue with forms at the end. So I invoke my rights as a citizen, and I beg you, throw me in jail.”

Hopefully, they will listen.

Also, I hope they have some books in prison.

I wonder if I can read whatever language they write in. Wait, I can read the Omnium Compendium's cover. Then, it should be the same, I think.

"The forms can be filled out by someone else," Lucillus sighs. “That someone else is probably me."

Alas, I'm compelled by my two captors. But they don't know that my morals and principles are purer than gold and stronger than steel.

"Interviews, paperwork, whatever. They are all the same. I won't bow before this canine injustice—"

"Rottenbone, is this the Human?"

I turn and go from staring at the two [Guards] to gazing at the most beautiful, most curvaceous, most redheaded — yes, that's a thing — woman I have ever seen in my entire life.

"Lucinda, he's saying that he doesn't want to have the interv—”

"Miss," I bow and cut off Lucillus, "sorry for our late deliverance. I apologize on behalf of the two meatheads. I shall come with you wherever you want me to, and however you want me to."

The woman, who is a few inches shy of my height, simply rolls her eyes.

"Move along. I booked one of the private interview rooms for [Mages]."

"Lucinda," Lucillus adds, "he's not a [Mage], apparently. We asked him under truth-stone."

"You did?" I turn to them, confused.

"I did," Lucillus raises his hand, and I see a little stone embedded in a ring turn green.

"Huh," I mutter, "cool."

"Whatever. I'm tired of trying to study in the main hall. They should put some damn cushions on those benches. Tell [Captain] Drusillus I'm taking the private room to study after I interview the weird Human."

Weird?

Well, better weird than generic and plain, I suppose.

"Follow me, Human," Lucinda says while I wave at Lucillus and Antoninus with a wide smile. "Don't wait for me!" I take a moment before turning again and saying, "you know what! Wait for me! I don't know anyone! Lucillus, you need to introduce me to your cousin!"

...

"Sit, Human. We have a [Mage]-proof truth-stone in here. Not even an [Archmage] could lie to me here, supposedly. Not that we'll really need it, it seems."

There's some disappointment in her tone as she takes stock of my non-magical aptitude.

"Why do you want to know Clodia, anyway? She hates men," the beautiful angel named Lucinda says while opening a fat tome on the table and sitting down.

"Well," I sit down myself, "I need a job, I suppose. I'm a baker."

"Not a [Mage] but a [Baker]?" She looks even more nonplussed.

"Baker, without the class thingy," I correct her.

She was flipping the pages before suddenly stopping when I mentioned the no-class thing.

"You have no class?"

"No, ma'am.”

"And you have never had a class before?"

"No, ma'am."

She makes a face and throws her eyebrows up. "Weird Humans," she mumbles while writing something down.

"Anyway," she sighs, "I'm Officer Lucinda. I work part-time for the Watch when it comes down to [Mages] and any [Mage]-like suspect. Lucillus told me over the speaking stone that you have no passport. So how did you enter Epretos, then?"

"I'm Joey Luciani, ma'am. And what's Epretos again? The city?"

"What?" She looks at me as if I am stupid.

After a moment of silence, she volunteers the answer, "Epretos. The continent we are in. Rottenbone, do Humans call it something different now?"

"I have no idea."

The truth-stone on the table flashes green at my answer.

Lucinda suddenly looks interested in me.

"So, how did you come to Epretos—the continent?"

"Well, I was visiting what I think was a Dragon's hoard. There was this very beautiful Dragon Lady... but, Officer, you are way prettier than her. Anyway, I was roaming around the hoard, scanning for cool stuff. First, there was a bloody sword that wanted me to become a [Hero], I think. Then, there was this weird-ass, dark altar that wanted me to kill things, I suppose. Then I touched this book, and it brought me outside this city... what's the city's name again?"

"Amorium," she mumbles while looking at the green truth-stone on the table with a frown. "Give me a second."

I see Lucinda exit the room and close the door behind her. I put the book on the table since my arms are way too tired from holding it. I look at the cover made of black leather with no markings. "Magical Theory, The Omnium Compendium."

What kind of douche names a book the Summary of Everything, anyway?

"Yes, thank you," I hear Lucinda say as she opens the door. "Mr. Luciani. Let's move to the other room. They need to check if this truth-stone is working. It appears that this room's stone has not been checked in a while. So we'll move to one that’s just been checked and tuned to perfection."

...

I finish recounting the same story, and Lucinda stares at the green truth-stone with an even bigger frown.

"So, you are telling me that a Dragon—"

"Dragon Lady," I say.

"Ok, that Dragon Lady let you roam in her hoard, and you don't know how you ended up in the hoard in the first place. Then, she let you take a look at artifacts of immense value—"

"I didn't say immense value. They just looked a bit different from other things."

Lucinda massages her forehead.

"If an item from a Dragon's hoard looks special, Luciani, let's suppose its value is at least close to immense. So, she lets you take a look and even pick one of these items. Do you confirm what I just said?"

"Yeah, that was a decent summary."

When the truth-stone flashes green again, it's clear that Lucinda is about to have a meltdown.

"Listen, Officer," I say with concern, "how about you tell me something about yourself? For example, just from the top of my head, are you engaged in any romantic relationships?"