I’m an Immigration Officer!

"Mohaim..."
From inside the building, Erzena quietly watched the retreating back of the First Paladin Commander as he walked away.
The old knight, slowly leaving the border and heading south with the pilgrimage delegation.

His back, which had always looked broad and proud, now hunched slightly, as if burdened by an invisible weight.
Because the window had been left open, she’d heard the entire conversation between Mohaim and the Chief Inspector.
That was why she could so deeply understand Mohaim’s anguish and inner conflict.

"...So you were thinking that too."
The man who had always proudly called himself the Church’s sword.
For someone like that to seek an answer from the very youth he’d once declared a heretic...

Even if she told the others back at the Southern Branch, they’d never believe it. No one would have even imagined it.
Unconsciously, Erzena reached for her neck.
But the Holy Church’s necklace that should have been there was gone.

Because she had cast it aside.
“…”
To open one’s eyes anew—what immense pain that must bring.

To deny what you’ve believed to be righteous your entire life—how terrifying that must be.
How could one so easily rip out a conviction rooted deep in the soul?
And yet—if you managed to overcome that, then perhaps...

Then, perhaps, you could finally see it.
What it is that God truly desires.
And so Erzena brought her hands together and closed her eyes.
“…May the Lord watch over you as well.”

For him, walking the same road of agony she once had.
For the pilgrimage delegation, now adrift in doubt and lost certainty.
The Chief Inspector was right.

—You already know the answer.
He must know it. He just doesn’t have the courage to face it.
“…May the Church’s sword never again be swung without mercy…”

And slowly, the heavy clouds in the sky began to part.
A tiny sliver of space.
Through that gap, a single ray of light fell upon the departing pilgrimage delegation.

Whether it was a coincidence or the will of the Lord—it was too subtle to tell.
 
****

After /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ the pilgrimage delegation’s departure, time at the Immigration Office flew by in a blur.
—Swish, scratch, swish, scratch.
I signed the last stack of paperwork still left on my desk.

—Nathan Kell.
Then I raised my head and spoke.
"You’ve all worked hard. That’s it for today’s duties."

"Yessir."
"...Though it’s just going to be overtime again anyway."
A tired voice.

At that, I glanced out the window.
The sun had already begun to set, and dusk was settling in.
‘We really did push hard these past few days.’

Now that I thought about it, I didn’t even get to go home yesterday—just got forcibly restored with divine power and went straight back to work.
Only then did I realize the Senses Inspectors’ faces were slowly draining of all life.
Their bodies were fine, but their spirits were clearly getting eaten away.

I watched them quietly for a moment, then made a decision.
"Let’s go home on time today. No overtime."
"We’re probably doing overtime anyway to—... wait, what?"

The Taste Inspector, who’d been slumped over the desk, suddenly lifted his head.
At the same time, the other Senses Inspectors all snapped their attention to me, each focusing with their respective heightened sensory organs.
"...Are you serious?"

"You’re not going to call us back with some emergency again, are you?"
"You’re not pulling another ‘divine power chance,’ are you?"
Their questions were soaked in deep mistrust.

Honestly, someone hearing this would think we always do overtime or something.
…Not that they’d be wrong.
I gave a small laugh and said,

"Our wretched entanglement with the pilgrimage delegation is finally over. Let’s all leave early today."
Sometimes you need a day like this.
At my words, every person in the Immigration Office turned to check the clock.

6:00 PM.
Then they all looked back at me.
"...Early?"

That tone. As if asking if I was screwing with them.
“Early???”
The stares were practically murderous.

"...Well..."
Yeah. Technically, 6 PM is the official end of the workday.
But hey—at least there’s no overtime today.

That alone is worth something.
"Anyone with complaints is free to stay later."
Their gazes softened immediately.

"I mean... yeah. 6 PM is pretty early."
"I seriously thought it was still daytime."
I chuckled awkwardly.

"You all worked really hard these past few days. I should at least let you go on time for once."
"Chief Inspector, you’re the best!"
"However."

I stiffened my expression.
"Three people will still need to stay behind until 11 PM tonight."
"T-Three people?"

"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because someone has to keep watch."

The border doesn’t shut down just because the sun sets.
If we all go home, what happens to people crossing at night?
Night duty is an unavoidable fate for all public servants.

"One from among the Senses Inspectors and myself. And two from the assistants. I’ll be selecting them shortly."
Not everyone can be happy.
Someone has to be sacrificed.

“Three people…”
“Out of us…”
“So as long as it’s not me, right?”

Nervous glances bounced around the room.
Tension, anxiety… and faint hope all tangled together.
"How are you going to select them?"

Someone asked.
Fair question.
Usually, a superior would just pull rank and settle it.

Just dismiss everyone by seniority and leave the bottom three behind.
But I shook my head.
"We’ll do it the traditional way."

There was one foolproof method for situations like this.
The tradition of the Immigration Office.
A sacred method, one that made no distinctions between race, gender, age, status, or tenure.

"A… tradition?"
Only Erzena looked at me with clear confusion.
"What do you mean?"

"You’ll see soon enough."
I gave her a brief answer and slowly raised my right hand high into the air.
"Alright, then... let’s begin."

As if on cue, everyone solemnly raised their own hands, following my lead.
Right fists clenched tightly.
"Is everyone ready?"

—Nod.
We all drew a deep breath.
Then, together, we shouted:

“Rock, paper, scissors!!!”
Thus began the death game, etched with desperate resolve.
Nothing in the world’s more fair than this.

 
****
Thirty minutes later.

Erzena and I walked down the road with completely different expressions.
I was practically beaming, while Erzena looked like she couldn’t comprehend a single thing that had just happened.
"Hahaha."

Laughter just burst out of me.
I was honestly thrilled.
"Getting off work at this hour—it’s almost surreal. The world looks completely different."

Eventually, unable to hold back her curiosity any longer, she whipped her head around and asked,
"...That’s the tradition?"
"Sorry?"

"That thing earlier. Rock, paper, scissors. That’s the tradition?"
"Yes. A proud and ancient tradition I instituted when I became Chief Inspector."
"..."

Erzena stared at me with a look that screamed, What kind of bullshit is that?
“It’s fair, gives everyone a one-in-three chance, and no one can predict or rig the outcome.”
“But…”

She trailed off almost immediately.
There was no real counterargument.
So I softly murmured a name.

“…The Olfactory Inspector looked devastated, though.”
Immediately, the face of that poor soul who lost in rock-paper-scissors thirty minutes ago popped into my head.
—Noooooooo!!!

The werewolf had literally yanked at his own fur and rolled on the ground.
—Why the hell did you throw scissors, you idiot!?
I’d never seen him scream so wretchedly before.

Anyone watching might have thought he’d lost his entire fortune.
And the two unlucky souls destined to share his fate? By pure coincidence, they were the personal assistants of the Olfactory and Gustatory Inspectors.
Just think of it as karma. You’ve bailed early from work way too often, haven’t you?

Be thankful it’s not a full moon tonight.
“They met their fates, that’s all.”
“You’re cold.”

“It’s the Olfactory Inspector’s fault for throwing scissors.”
“…”
The world of competition is merciless.

Another brief silence passed between us.
After walking for a while, I opened my mouth again.
“Erzena.”

“Yes?”
“I was wondering… before heading home, would you like to grab a bite to eat?”
I scratched my cheek awkwardly.

“Ah, my place is still a mess... Wouldn’t feel right serving dinner in there.”
It was around 6:30 now. Prime time for getting hungry.
But inviting someone to eat in a house covered in dust and rubble? That’s just rude.

Southern Border wasn’t exactly a bustling city, but it had its fair share of old, storied buildings and shops.
Some restaurants had been running for generations—reliable and trustworthy places.
“I know a decent spot. Would you like to come with me?”

Erzena paused, lost in thought for a moment.
“Hmm… sure. Not a bad idea. It’s a rare opportunity, and I need to familiarize myself with the geography of the Southern Border anyway... Wait, hold on—”
She mumbled to herself, then suddenly widened her eyes and shouted at me.

“D-Did you just ask me to eat dinner with you? Just the t-t-two of us!?”
Holy power surged wildly around her.
“It’s a bit late to call anyone else, so I thought just the two of us would be fine.”

I replied calmly, which only made her more flustered.
“O-okay! Yeah! Just the two of us… let’s eat! Let’s do it!”
And without another word, she strode ahead, full of energy.

I blinked, a bit stunned by her sudden enthusiasm.
She’s starting to become like the rest of us here at the Immigration Office.
“That’s the wrong way—it’s this direction.”

“Oh. Right.”
 
****

—Creak.
A short while later, I opened the door to a restaurant, and an energetic girl’s voice rang out immediately.
“Welcome! How many in your party?”

The place I’d brought her to was a tavern near the border.
A regular hangout for the Auditory and Tactile Inspectors.
It was lively, packed with people. I raised my voice a bit to be heard.

“Two.”
“Huh? Chief Inspector! Long time no see!”
“It’s been a while. Finally found a bit of time—just here for dinner.”

“I’ll show you to a seat!”
The girl who recognized me nodded cheerfully.
I guess I’d gotten familiar with her after dragging that drunk elf out of here so many times.

Just as I was about to sit down at the table she led me to, she caught sight of Erzena walking in behind me—and suddenly pointed to a different table.
“Ah, sorry! This table is for couples. Let me take you over there!”
I shook my head.

“No, I think there’s been a misunderstanding—”
“It’s-it’s-it’s fine! Couple! That’s right! A young man and woman! Together!”
Erzena cut me off in a rush and quickly sat down at the couple’s seat.

“…”
I stared at her wordlessly, and with a slightly flushed face, she mumbled,
“…The table’s just a little bigger. Let’s leave it at that.”

And so, we sat down at the couple’s table and ordered.
The food turned out to be excellent.
I rejected the pork dish the waitress recommended—don’t know why, but it gave me a weird aversion.

Instead, the grilled chicken and cheese bread were some of the best I’d had in a long time.
“Haah… I’m so full…”
Erzena let out a deep sigh, having cleaned her plate.

“I’m glad you’re satisfied.”
“I’ll definitely be coming here again. Not a bad place at all.”
Her guard seemed to relax. Leaning back against the chair, she looked genuinely content—and it made me smile.

“Erzena.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. I know it’s a bit late, but I really appreciate your help again.”

No matter how many times I thanked her, it wouldn’t be enough.
Not just for the trial—but in so many other ways, too.
Even the whole situation with the Evil God Cult… If it weren’t for her, I probably wouldn’t have realized it until much later.

“Maybe it was a real stroke of luck that you ended up staying at my place.”
Maybe it was the food, or maybe just the easing tension, but I found myself speaking honestly.
At that, Erzena lowered her head.

“…You know.”
Her voice was barely audible.
“If you’re that grateful… could I ask for a favor?”

I nodded without hesitation.
“As long as it’s within my discretion—anything.”
“Could I… call you by your name?”

“…Sorry?”
“Y-you already call me by my name instead of ‘Saintess,’ so I thought maybe I could too… if that’s alright…”
She slowly lifted her eyes to meet mine.

“Would that… be okay?”
A look that was a mix of quiet hope and awkward shyness.
Fair enough.

Titles make sense in formal settings, but using them at home or in casual situations just feels off.
And I already call her by name anyway.
There was no reason to refuse.

“Of course. Go ahead, try it.”
“R-right here?”
“This counts as an informal setting.”

“Ugh…”
She narrowed her eyes and glared at me.
Slowly, she opened her mouth.

“N-nya…dan…”
Bit her tongue.
“It’s Nathan. Again.”

“I know! …Na-Nathan.”
And just like that, Erzena said my name—her cheeks so red they looked ready to burst.
And for some reason, the tavern suddenly felt kind of… hot.

Must’ve been my imagination.
…Had to be.