Mana Shizuka stared at the blinking monitors on his desk, the rhythm of their warning beeps eerily calm compared to the chaos erupting around him.

“Mana! The lines are cutting out!” Hikari Tsubasa hovered beside him, clutching her orb like it might explode. “One second, I’m helping someone defuse a magical bomb, and the next, they’re asking about enchanted apples! What’s happening?”

Gobuto Haruo popped up from behind a stack of scrolls. “I just got a call from someone yelling about slime floors again, but I’m pretty sure that’s not my fault this time!”

“It’s not,” Mana replied, his tone steady. “The mana crystal powering the network is corrupted.” He tapped a monitor, bringing up a glowing diagram of the crystal. “Fluctuations are causing calls to merge, reroute, or drop entirely.”

“Can you fix it?” Hikari asked, wide-eyed.

“I always fix it,” Mana said, adjusting his glasses. “But I’ll need the crystal stabilized first.” He turned to Gobuto. “Fetch the backup crystal from storage.”

“Yes, sir!” Gobuto saluted, tripping over a mana cable on his way out.

Mana sighed. “Hikari, monitor the incoming lines. Redirect any calls that are merging.”

“On it!” Hikari nodded, flying over to the nearest monitor.

As the team scrambled, Mana remained calm, his hands moving efficiently over his keyboard. The monitors flashed a chaotic array of colors, but his focused expression didn’t waver.

“Um, Mana?” Hikari’s voice broke through the hum of the monitors. “I think I accidentally sent two adventurers to the same call line. They’re arguing about who deserves help more!”

Mana didn’t look up. “Tell them it’s a shared quest. Collaborate or fail.”

Hikari blinked. “Oh! That’s actually kind of brilliant!”

Gobuto returned, clutching a glowing crystal. “I found the backup! But… uh…” He held it up, revealing a hairline crack running through its surface.

Mana’s eyebrow twitched. “That’s not ideal.”

“Should I try to… tape it?” Gobuto suggested, holding up a roll of enchanted adhesive.

“Absolutely not.” Mana plucked the crystal from Gobuto’s hands, inspecting it critically. “I can work with this, but I’ll need you to monitor the surge levels.”

Gobuto gulped. “Surge levels?”

“Yes. If the levels spike too high, let me know immediately. Otherwise, this entire system could…” Mana paused, his voice perfectly even. “…implode.”

Gobuto’s face turned pale. “Right. No pressure!”

From her perch, Niwatori Tama chimed in. “You’re surprisingly good at this, Mana. If only you weren’t so insufferably perfect about it.”

Mana ignored the jab, his focus entirely on stabilizing the network.

Just as the team started making progress, the portal to the hotline office shimmered, and a group of elder adventurers stepped through.

“We’re here for the mana consultation!” one of them announced, her voice warm and grandmotherly.

Mana barely glanced up. “We’re in the middle of a crisis. Please wait.”

The women exchanged curious looks, but rather than leave, they wandered closer, observing the team with a mix of fascination and fondness.

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“Isn’t he just so composed?” one of them murmured, watching Mana’s focused typing.

“And those glasses!” another whispered with a soft chuckle. “He looks so intelligent.”

Hikari, hovering nearby, hid a smile behind her hand. Gobuto, meanwhile, pretended to organize scrolls, but his shoulders shook as he tried to stifle his laughter.

One of the elder women leaned slightly closer, her gaze falling on the nameplate. “Mana Shizuka… What a lovely name.”

Another tilted her head thoughtfully, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Shizuka… Doesn’t that remind you of a sweet, charming heroine? You know, the kind who’s friends with a round, blue raccoon—or maybe a cat-like robot?”

Mana’s fingers paused mid-keystroke. His expression didn’t change, but there was a brief, telling moment of stillness. Then, without looking up, he said flatly, “It doesn’t.”

Hikari bit her lip, her wings fluttering slightly as she struggled to contain her laughter. Gobuto ducked lower behind his desk, his muffled snorts barely audible over the hum of the mana monitors.

The elder women, oblivious to Mana’s discomfort, exchanged knowing smiles.

“He must be so popular,” one of them said fondly.

“Ah, such a dependable young man,” another added. “I bet he never loses his temper.”

Mana’s typing resumed, louder than before.

“Mana,” Hikari whispered teasingly as she passed by with a containment rune. “They really like you.”

“I’m aware,” Mana replied curtly, adjusting his glasses with a faint sigh.

After what felt like an eternity of interruptions, Mana identified the root of the corruption in the mana crystal.

“We’ll need to siphon the corrupted energy into the backup crystal,” he explained. “But because it’s cracked, the process will need to be perfectly timed. Hikari, fetch a containment rune from storage. Gobuto, get the surge stabilizer from the toolbox in the east cabinet.”

“Yes, sir!” Hikari chirped, darting off with a burst of sparkling wings.

“On it!” Gobuto nodded, jogging toward the cabinet. He paused halfway, scratching his head. “Uh, wait… what does a surge stabilizer look like again?”

Mana sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The rectangular device with two glowing nodes on the top. Do not grab the one with red nodes—that’s a discharge amplifier, and it will probably destroy the crystal.”

“Oh, right! Rectangular, glowing… no red!” Gobuto repeated, dashing off.

When the proper tools were finally gathered, Mana began the siphoning process, his hands moving quickly over the controls. The crystal pulsed erratically, sending small sparks flying across the room.

“Mana! The surge levels are spiking!” Gobuto shouted, glancing nervously at the stabilizer in his hands.

“Hold it steady!” Mana ordered.

Hikari darted across the room, grabbing another containment rune and slapping it onto the crystal. “Did that help?”

“Barely,” Mana muttered. “But it’ll buy us a few seconds.”

The monitors flashed red as the corrupted energy surged dangerously. Just as the crystal looked ready to shatter, Mana adjusted the flow, directing the energy into the backup crystal in one smooth motion.

The room went quiet. The monitors returned to their usual calm glow, and the hotline hummed back to life.

“We’re stable,” Mana announced, his tone as calm as ever.

The crisis had passed, but the aftermath lingered in the office like the last echoes of a thunderstorm. Sparks from overworked mana monitors flickered faintly before fading out, and the faint hum of the stabilized network filled the air.

Hikari and Gobuto worked side by side to clean up the scattered scrolls and equipment, their earlier panic giving way to a quiet, relieved energy.

“Whew,” Gobuto muttered, wiping his brow with a loose sleeve. “I thought for sure we were goners when the crystal started sparking like that.”

Hikari smiled at him. “You did great, Gobuto! Especially after the whole… stapler thing.”

“Don’t remind me,” Gobuto groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Across the room, Mana sat at his desk, typing away as though the crisis had never happened. His movements were as precise as ever, but there was a faint tension in his posture, a subtle tightness in his shoulders that hinted at the strain he had just endured.

Hikari noticed, her wings fluttering softly. She glanced at the small tea set on the counter nearby, then back at Mana, her expression thoughtful.

A few minutes later, as Gobuto gathered the last of the misplaced scrolls, Hikari approached Mana with a small tray. She hesitated for a moment, then gently set it on the corner of his desk.

“Tea?” she asked, her voice soft but warm.

Mana paused mid-typing, glancing at the tray with faint surprise. “Thank you,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

“You were amazing back there,” Hikari said, pulling up a chair beside him. “I don’t know how you stay so calm.”

“It’s just preparation,” Mana replied, though a faint hint of color rose to his cheeks.

“Well,” Hikari said with a small smile, “I think it’s inspiring.”

Mana cleared his throat and turned back to his monitor, muttering something about post-crisis diagnostics. Hikari didn’t press him further, quietly returning to her cleanup.

As the office wound down for the day, Mana stayed behind, meticulously checking the system’s stability.

While organizing his desk, a note fluttered out of the pile: a handwritten message from one of the elder adventurers.

“To our dear Mana, the most elegant analyst we’ve ever met. Keep being perfect!”

Mana sighed deeply, tucking the note into a drawer.

“Elegant,” he muttered under his breath. “Ridiculous.”

But as he turned back to his work, a faint smile ghosted across his lips.