I’m an Immigration Officer!

“It’s simpler than it sounds. Just remember three things.”

That’s what she told me on my first day as an immigration officer.
“First. When addressing others, say ‘sir’ or ‘you’. When referring to yourself, say ‘this officer.’”
The woman who hired me raised a finger and continued calmly:

“A civil servant must stand apart. People should feel it right away. That’s how you prevent awkward misunderstandings. It all starts with how you speak.”
In short: by changing how I talk, they’ll know I’m government.
Pretty smart, actually.
Even if I’m in plain clothes, people would recognize me as a public official.

Assuming no one decides to mock my speech...
She raised a second finger.
“Second. No matter who you’re speaking to, always use honorifics.”

She put emphasis on the words “no matter who.”
“Immigration officers are the first people visitors meet when entering our nation. To them, we are the face of the country. So we must be polite—but firm.”
In other words, treat everyone the same. Man ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) or woman, old or young, human or not, noble or peasant.

Makes sense.
First impressions matter even in person. Multiply that by national scale? It’s huge.
So basically: be courteous, but don’t let them walk over you.

“If you remember just those two things, you won’t run into much trouble.”
Clear and easy to follow. That was a relief.
But wait—wasn’t there supposed to be a third?

“Uh… and the third?”
“Ah, the third is even easier. And the most important of all.”
She raised her last finger.
“Any wrongdoing by an immigration officer—no matter how small—is punished by execution.”
“…Sorry, what?”
Did I mishear that?

Execution? Like actual execution?
As in, capital punishment? Chopping heads off?
“That… that’s a joke, right?”
“Oh, I forgot to mention. One of your seniors was executed three days ago.”

She pointed at a notice on the wall.
Breaking News: Immigration officer at southern border executed on the spot after brief interrogation. Public in shock—
I looked closer.
The date? Three days ago. Exactly.

…
Is this for real?
Did they actually behead someone who worked for the state?

“W-What did he do?! Why?!”
“Something truly vile. Unspeakable. A sin so grave, no one could have imagined it.”
“What… what was it?”
She glanced around, lowered her voice like she was sharing a forbidden secret.
I leaned in.

A long pause.
“He was fifteen minutes late to work.”
“…”
“Hard to believe, I know. But it’s the truth.”
“…”
…Shit.

I shouldn’t have come here.
I seriously shouldn’t have.
But it was too late to run.

Wanna know why?
“Now then, it’s time we head into the Immigration Hall.”
Her hand was already gripping my arm.

“Welcome to the Immigration Office, Nathan Kell. I’m thrilled to have you on board!”
And just like that, my fate was sealed.