Philip Hartwell was certain he had already finished his shift. He had seen the monitor turn off. He had felt the brief relief of silence. But, as with everything in this kingdom, relief was only an illusion. The ticket blinked again in the center of the room, now in larger, more aggressive letters:
"MONSTERS DISAPPEARING REPORT – EXTREME URGENCY."
"Extreme urgency…" he repeated, scratching his chin. "Of course, because 'normal urgency' just isn't enough for me."
The goblin intern appeared running, clutching a glowing clipboard."Mr. Hartwell! The Council has decided you're going into the field to investigate!"
Philip stopped, blinked, and let out a disbelieving chuckle."I… what? Fieldwork? I look like someone who hunts monsters? I barely hunt motivation!"
"But you're the only one not affected by magic!" the goblin argued, excitedly."Exactly!" Philip retorted, gesturing dramatically. "I'm the only one who can die the purely physical way! A real privilege!"
The invisible elf, now partially visible from the neck up, crossed her arms and gave a faintly pitying look."You have no choice, human. The queen is demanding results before the second sun sets.""Ah, of course, the queen… because if anything screams efficiency, it's a magical government with two suns and zero HR sense."
Philip found himself escorted to the castle courtyard, where an enchanted carriage awaited. Its wheels shimmered, the horses had horns, and… of course, the door wouldn't open for him."Fantastic," he muttered. "A magical vehicle that doesn't recognize my existence. I should have reincarnated as a doorknob."
A knight watched, confused."Mr. Hartwell, aren't you going to board?""I'm trying, friend. It won't open. I think the carriage has prejudice against magic atheists."
In the end, he was shoved inside, and the carriage lurched forward. The fields stretched under a lilac sky, and Philip tried to reason through the jolts. Monsters disappearing… sounded more like an inventory problem than a magical one. Maybe someone was stealing creatures. Or worse, maybe they were leaving voluntarily.
When they arrived, the smell of burnt vegetation and sulfur filled the air. A local mage approached anxiously."Mr. Hartwell! Thanks to the Council, you've arrived! The forest creatures vanished without warning!"
Philip raised an eyebrow."Vanished how? Ran away? Evaporated? Went on strike?""Evaporated! As if they had never existed!""Great, so I came to fix… nothing. Perfect."
As the mages waved scrolls and analyzed runes, Philip examined the ground. No signs of a fight, no tracks. It was as if the monsters simply disconnected from the world."This looks like a system bug," he muttered. "Or a poorly synchronized spell with reality's server."
The elf accompanying him looked confused."Server…?""Yeah. Long story. Think of a lazy god rebooting the world and forgetting to save the files."
He huffed, surveying the area, continuing with the same tone of indignation."And to make it worse… this incompetent system brought me here. Whoever runs this, must be even more useless than any mage who trips over scrolls thinking it solves chaos. Seriously… someone give eternal incompetence award to this cosmic creature, because, look… I'm paying for their mistakes."
The elf looked away, trying not to laugh."So… basically, you blame the 'system boss' for everything?""Not just blame," Philip replied, releasing a sarcastic smile. "I know they deserve every possible warning meeting. And they don't even show up to defend their own report!"
He sighed, looking at the green fissure in the ground."Great. Another interdimensional bug to fix."
The local mage, anxious, began gesturing, ready to cast a spell."We need to use magic to track them!"Philip raised his hand, stopping the motion."No, no. Listen, my friend. Any magic here will only make things worse. You want to turn into glitter or make reality loop? Because, if that's the case, congratulations."
—He sighed, slapping his forehead."I can't use magic, remember? I'm immune. So I'm our only option… unfortunately."
He took a deep breath, crossed his arms, and looked at the mage as if observing an intern trying to use a broken printer."So, just to be clear, I'm going out there, solving the problem, and surviving without any superpowers, while you guys wave wands and flap scrolls. Fantastic, right?"
The mage swallowed hard, unsure whether to laugh or cry."But… Mr. Hartwell, how do you plan to…""Improvising, my friend," Philip raised his index finger, emphasizing the point as if explaining advanced math. "I'll observe, deduce, analyze patterns, and… complain loudly. Very loudly. That's what makes me functional."
The invisible elf peeked over his shoulder, already smiling at the typical dramatic stalling."So… you're really going alone, without magic?""Exactly," Philip replied, throwing his hands in the air. "Who needs spells when you have human reasoning, sarcasm, and a natural talent for complaining about everything? Now give me some space, because I'm about to do the impossible with nothing."
And with that, he strode toward the forest, grumbling about lazy gods, broken systems, and incompetent cosmic bosses, already imagining how he'd report surviving yet another absurd mission (even if it was his first real-life high-risk assignment).