My Servant Is An Elf-Knight From Another World

Chapter 1

There I was. The spitting image of professionalism. I was that guy out there - you know that guy. The one you’d see swaggering down the street, walking all cool-like, making you turn your head as he passes and go like, “Damn man, that guy slick as hell.”

Yeah, that was me. Brand new suit, combed, waxed hair, my chest puffing out like bread in the oven, or whatever the hell the metaphor was.

The streets of this bustling city have never seen a more cooler person than I that day. 

Alone in my room, the night before, rummaging through emails before calling it a night, that was when I struck bronze, silver, and gold. Now there I was, ready to claim my prize.

I smacked my lips, took in the sweet smell of pollution, and practiced the speech I’ve rehearsed tirelessly in front of the mirror this morning.

“Ever since I was a young boy, your company was the first and only option I’ve ever wanted to work for. I would dream endlessly about the day I would walk into your doors and…”

Flawless. Absolutely perfect. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything. Everything could absolutely go wrong and it did. 

I walked into the wrong goddamn building apparently. Whoopsie-do. The stare that that receptionist gave me was not something I would like to relive ever again.

After that, I stepped into a puddle on my way to the correct building. I had to use the stupid hand dryer in the male’s toilet to dry off my jeans afterward. Guess who I had to ask, my shoes and pant-leg soaked in road gloop for directions to the bathroom? Yes, that building’s receptionist. 

I practically felt the silent judgment radiating off of her as I huddled back over to the counter to ask about my appointment for the job interview.

Oh, what’s that? Wrong building again? FOR THE LOVE OF -

Okay, I know I’m new to town, ol’ little country boy me won’t get used to the customs until later on, but why the hell would you build three similar-looking buildings on the same freaking address?!

Fire your architects!

Alright, whatever, I got the correct building this time. Nothing else could possibly backfire on me, right?

Wrong, said God, roaring with laughter at my misery like the big bully in the clouds he is.

“I’m - I’m here… for...” I wheezed. “I’m here for an interview. My name is - “

“You missed it. Have a nice day.”

At least receptionist #3 was nice about it.

And then, seemingly as a last cruel joke from the righteous devil above, it started to drizzle on my slow, gloomy trudge home.

Just like that, all essence of my haughty bravado was cleansed by the pouring rain. Bye-bye hair wax, we had a nice run together even if I absolutely did despise your overpowering stench. Bye-bye rental suit, the shop I got you from will have a fun time wondering as to why you’re soaked and smell like mud when I return you tomorrow.

Wait, I’ll get billed for that, won’t I? Shit.

But, hey, if I have been crying, which I wasn’t, honest. The rain at least provided good cover to hide the fact. Again, just to reaffirm, wasn’t crying, not today, not ever, serious. Okay, maybe a sniffle here and there, but no tears.

Just as my misery was starting to reach its peak, a huge crashing noise erupting from a nearby alley came in time to drive me away from the increasingly tempting thought to sell my kidney at the black market to net some profit.