I’m an Immigration Officer!

Approximately 15 minutes later.
“So,”

The Touch Master raised her hand, struggling to catch her breath.
“To summarize, a pilgrimage from the South is heading our way, and we’re supposed to handle it, right?”
“Correct.”
“And that’s at least a thousand people.”
“Yes.”
“And among them is the Saint, and we’re responsible for her too, but we don’t know when they’re arriving, right?”
“Exactly.”
“They could show up tomorrow, or a week from now, and we have to be ready to receive them, right?”
“You’re great at summaries, Touch Master. Yes.”
Wow, how nice of her to summarize everything I said so clearly.

The Touch Master lowered her hand, her expression tense as she glanced around.
The Smell Master, Taste Master, and Hearing Master met her gaze, all nodding meaningfully.
Receiving their unspoken approval, she took a deep breath and asked the most important question:
“Then… when do we get off work?”

The answer came instantly.
“You don’t.”
“Until when?”
“Until the pilgrimage reaches the border.”
“And when will that be?”
“No idea.”
“And once they arrive, we can go home?”
“No. Only after everyone, including the Saint, passes immigration inspection.”
I repeated the same thing I said to these rebels 15 minutes ago.

“You can go home once the inspection of every single member of the pilgrimage, including the Saint, is completed. It’s the top priority. Until then, everyone stays here.”
In other words, indefinite overtime.
“And when does this emergency protocol start?”
“Right now.”

From this moment, nobody can leave.
Not me. Not you.
Round two begins.
“Why do we have to handle this?! This is clearly the Foreign Affairs Department’s job!”
“This is absolute bullsh- uh, I mean, nonsense!”
“The Chief Inspector must guarantee us the right to go home! We demand a workplace without forced overtime!”
“Let us go home! Home, home, home!”

The Smell Master banged her fist on the table, and the Taste Master just dropped to the floor, kicking and thrashing like a toddler.
And the Hearing Master… when did she make that picket sign? “Down with the Tyrant Boss”? Oh, she flipped over the “Days Without Incident” sign.
If only they could unite like this under normal circumstances.
“Hold on! Everyone, calm down and listen to me! In exchange, I can offer you appropriate compensation from the Foreign Affairs Department—”
“Chief Inspector! I haven’t seen my mom in three days! I spent the whole weekend reading reports! I want my mommy! Waaaaah!”

I want to see my mom too, Taste Master.
You think you’re the only one trapped here? Thanks to your retraining, I couldn’t go home either.
“I’m going to report this to Foreign Affairs! I’m going to tell them my boss is so obsessed with getting promoted that he won’t let me go home! This is an abuse of power! Species discrimination!”
Weren’t you the one who abused your authority to sneak out early?
And “you”? Did that damn wolf just call me “you”?
Eventually, when my patience snapped, I slammed my hand on the board beside me and shouted:

“Hey, quiet! All of you, shut up! This officer wants to go home too! But it’s you, all of you, who’ve been screwing things up for days now! That’s why I couldn’t refuse the order!”
“When did we do that?! Show us the proof! This is false accusation!”
“Yeah! Yeah!”
Look at these shameless bastards.
Proof? Oh, I’ve got plenty.

Seething with rage, I pointed my finger at each of them in turn:
“Taste Master! Threatening to kill the Fire Spirit!”
“Ugh.”
“Touch Master and Hearing Master! Drunken disorderly conduct!”
“Ugh.”
“Smell Master! Unauthorized early leave!”
“Urgh.”
“All of this was your damn doing! Do you want to get fired?! Lose your performance bonuses?!”

The more I spoke, the angrier I got.
These little punks…
I want to go home too. But orders are orders.
“This officer hasn’t been home in four days! And now we have an official mission straight from the top! And we can’t refuse it! The Saint and her pilgrimage are already on their way! Do you want me to tell them to turn around and go back?”
“No, of course not, but…”
“Then shut up!”
“Ughhh…”
Four of them hung their heads, thoroughly deflated by my scolding.
I calmed down a little, taking a deep breath, and lowered my voice.

“For now, we’ll all be living and working here. It’s going to be uncomfortable, but we have to maintain emergency protocol until the pilgrimage arrives. No one goes home. Got it?”
“Offfff… woooork…”
Drooping tails, flattened ears, sagging tentacles.
Anyone walking in right now would think I was some kind of tyrant boss bullying innocent employees.
“All right, lift your heads. In exchange for your hard work, the Minister has promised a reward.”

The four of them instantly perked up.
“A reward? What kind of reward?”
“100 days added to the ‘Days Without Incident’ record if we stabilize the situation. Another 100 days if the pilgrimage safely passes through the northern border without any issues. That’s a total of 297 days without incident.”
The sheer magnitude of the reward had the entire room buzzing.

“297 days? That’s… that’s triple the monthly salary!”
“Hey, Touch Master, what was our longest streak so far?”
“128 days. And that was when the Sight Master was still around.”
They were already doing the math.
300 days without incident. Triple pay for just three days of work…
This was a hell of a deal.
But it wasn’t enough.
Now, time to up the ante.

“And what if I throw in five days of paid leave for completing the mission?”
“Ohhhhh!!!” — Their eyes sparkled like kids on Christmas morning.
But that wasn’t enough either.
A true negotiator knows when to seal the deal.

“And that’s not all.”
The four of them leaned in, holding their breath.
“There’s one more thing,” I said, lowering my voice for dramatic effect.
“I’ll make those days paid vacation.”

The first to bolt out of the room was the Smell Master.
“Aide!!! Go to the market and get some thick, fluffy pillows and blankets! The best ones!!!”
Her booming wolf howl echoed through the building.
The Touch Master and Taste Master weren’t far behind, yelling and rushing out as well.

The only one who remained was the Hearing Master.
“Ha. Such children,” she chuckled. “Can’t believe they fell for that.”
“You didn’t fall for it, Hearing Master?”
“Me? Please.”
I reached under the table and pulled out a bottle.

“How about this? A 24-year-old Frost Dragon Wine from the Northern Tundra.”
“THAT’S… THAT’S THE ONE!!!”
And just like that, the Hearing Master dashed out of the room.
That’s it.
Rebellion quashed.
Now I can finally breathe.

 
****
Alright, so now that the word "going home" has been thoroughly erased from my subordinates' heads, what’s next on the agenda?

First, I need to assess the current state of our department.
I turned to my aide.
“Come to think of it, at least a thousand people are coming. Realistically, it might be closer to two thousand. How many people do we have working in immigration control right now?”
“With the junior inspectors, aides, the Chief Inspector, and the Five Sense Masters included, we have a total of 96 people.”

96 people.
I frowned without meaning to.
“That’s nowhere near enough.”

It’s too few. Way too few.
At the southern border, the only immigration officers are me and the Five Sense Masters. The rest are just junior inspectors working under us.
If we were only handling immigration inspections, that might be manageable. But that’s not all we do.

Anyone who’s ever seen the border with their own eyes would understand.
There’s a seemingly endless line of people and goods stretching along that drawn line, all trying to cross.
And it’s our job to keep those people from tearing each other apart while they wait, prevent public order issues from breaking out, and keep the peace.

Not only that, but we also have to make sure the cargo doesn’t get mixed up, stop outsiders from sneaking in, and keep out illegal immigrants.
In other words, we have to manage a line of 2,000 people + prevent crimes + inspect cargo + block illegal immigrants + conduct immigration checks. All at once.
“There’s no way we can handle this with just our team.”
“Chief Inspector, don’t forget to account for the regular daily traffic passing through as well, not just the pilgrimage.”

Ah, right. It’s not just the pilgrimage coming. We still have the regular influx of people to deal with. That makes things even worse.
There’s no way 96 people can handle this. Even if we work day and night for three days straight, it still might not be enough.
And if a fight breaks out among the people waiting in line… how the hell are we supposed to stop that?

We desperately need more manpower.
‘I need more people. At least fifty more.’
My aide, seeing the expression on my face, offered a suggestion.

“How about recruiting external help? If we offer decent compensation, we could gather people quickly.”
“No, that’s not an option. They’re not trustworthy enough.”
No matter how desperate we are, we can’t just go asking for external assistance without thinking it through.
This is a matter of national security. The last thing we need is some idiot taking bribes to slip people through the border.

Four years ago, a similar incident led to a bloodbath. I still can’t forget it.
‘There’s no way I can let that happen again.’
If it does, the “Days Without Incident” record is as good as gone.

‘I need reliable people. People who handle state affairs and won’t bend for bribes.’
Okay, let’s think. Is there any department that handles state affairs and won’t take bribes, «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» no matter what?
“The Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Intelligence Division have already been dispatched to the East and North, so they’re out. And immigration officers from other borders would take too long to get here.”
“What about the Ministry of Internal Affairs? If they come from the capital, it’ll take about three days.”
“Not a bad idea, but…”

It was a decent suggestion.
But I don’t have any connections with the Internal Affairs Department. It’d be awkward to ask for a favor out of the blue.
Besides, it’s outside their jurisdiction, and that would complicate the chain of command.
And then, a name I’d almost forgotten popped into my head.
“The Border Defense Force.”

They’re stationed at the border like us, but they only move when a crime or violent incident occurs.
They’re just like us, stationed in the Marquis’ territory but with their own separate mission and authority — to protect the border, a sacred duty of the state.
It fits perfectly.

They’re not outsiders, they’re too stubborn to be swayed by bribes, and their blind loyalty to the kingdom, combined with their 3-meter-tall, muscle-bound bodies, is more than enough to maintain order.
The only problem is that they lack flexibility. A lot.
My aide looked worried.

“Are you sure about this? If the Border Defense Force gets involved, the pilgrims might see it as a show of force.”
A valid concern.
If 3-meter-tall golems stand guard wielding massive clubs, anyone would feel pressured.

It could definitely be seen as a threat.
But that’s something we can handle. At least they’ll listen to us, the immigration office.
Now isn’t the time to be picky about such details.

I made up my mind and turned to my aide.
“Get in touch with the Border Defense Force.”
My aide looked as if he wanted to protest but instead placed his hand over the communication crystal, infusing it with mana.

Moments later, a square-shaped face appeared, filling the entire crystal screen.
[State your business.]
“Greetings, Commander of the Border Defense Force. This is the Southern Border Immigration Office—”
[Submit your request in writing.]
Still the same as ever.

“…Can you hand me some paper and a pen?”
I quickly jotted down a brief summary of our current situation and a request for cooperation and held it up to the screen.
In less than four seconds, the golem’s monotonous response came back.

[Request confirmed. Cooperation granted. Communication terminated.]
The screen went dark immediately.
Well, that’s done.

“Alright, that’s one major worry taken care of. Let’s focus solely on immigration inspections now.”
Yeah, if those guys handle crowd control, that’s already a huge burden off our shoulders.
Now, let’s take a moment to clear my head and think things through.
“Chief Inspector, there’s something you should know.”
“Go ahead.”

I finally relaxed and leaned back in my chair. My aide handed me a document.
It was a brief report containing the basic information on Saint Erjena, the one the Minister had shown me earlier.
“My wife is a follower of the Holy Church, and she’s mentioned Saint Erjena a few times. Apparently, she’s… quite a unique individual.”
“Oh really? In what way?”
“She’s… extremely intense, to say the least.”

Intense, huh? I could already guess what that meant.
‘A girl in her rebellious phase, I bet.’
Chosen by the gods or not, she’s still just a girl barely out of her teens.

Even a dragon can’t stop the chaos of puberty.
What happens when a clueless teenage girl is worshipped as a Saint?
The answer is obvious. She grows up to be a spoiled brat drunk on her own power.

Which means she’s likely highly susceptible to vanity and greed.
‘If she’s that kind of girl, dealing with her will actually be easier.’
All I have to do is nod along, flatter her a bit, and she’ll calm down.
Maybe throw in a few pretty trinkets or some fancy jewelry to seal the deal.

“Don’t worry. If I request a few items from my family’s trading company, it’ll be handled smoothly. For now, let’s focus on how to allocate the pilgrimage personnel.”
How weird could she possibly be?