The Player is a Part-Timer

Chapter 1: Just an Everyday Café in an Everyday Town

"Fascinating..." the man just muttered, inspecting the whole process with great detail.

"I am not the one who rob others from their world, then trying to enslave them!"

"I said... that was not my fault." the man with the double-colored hair sighed, turning back to the bartender girl. "It was most likely a rogue part of our organization. Or someone else. We still trying to find it out..."

"You better..." she prepared some coffee, putting it before the man, who in return looked at her with a raised brow, his eyes betraying his questioning attitude.

"We are in a café; people come here to drink." she put it short, and the man nodded.

"Thank you..."

"It will be a billion yen..." said right away the girl, making the man hesitate to touch the drink.

"That's ridiculous! I will..."

"You have my papers?" and in the next moment, she cut his word.

"Tch! Fine!" reaching under his coat, the man threw a file before her. "Here it is! By the way? Is that really your real name? It is weird! Did you recognized, if you take the first letters..."

"I know... I know..." she cut in his words once more, obliging bored. "Hmm, maybe..." Checking the documents, she hummed. "Compared, your organization operates in complete secrecy in the human world. You work painfully slow..."

"Ha! It is not like we need such papers! We just use magic to change the memories of the simple people, brainwashing them to cooperate. Those we can't affect, we have our own ways to deal with. I can't understand why you even need legal papers! It was a hassle to get them! The registration of a person who exists not, and making sure the authorities can't recognize the forgery is a lot of work. We not only needed to create your registry, but a whole branch of the family behind you to not be suspicious!"

"Figures..." she just chuckled, wondering how these people managed to remain in secret until now. "But better make sure than sorry later. You as well would fare better if not always rely on your fancy magic. One day it may let you down. Sometimes..." she watched the small newton cradle sitting on one of the tables, serving as decoration. "...Doing things manually is more satisfying and handy. Magic is not a solution for everything."

"Speaking from experience?" the man inquired, leaning closer.

"Eh, who knows... let just say; I saw enough magic users who caught off guard and died a painful death when their magic refused to operate: one way or another. Often their face painted a quite grotesque picture of disbelief, frozen on their face in their last moments. Fufufuf..."

Yeah, it often happened in YGGDRASIL. Usually, when she turned off magic use for a few moments in a certain area. It gave her enough time to catch others off guard and turn them a shish-kebab with her swords.

"Oh! It sounds more and more interesting! Care to share a few stories? Hmm? I am more and more curious about the place where you came from." the fallen general smiled excited, yet calm. Still, in his eyes, the light twinkled, almost like an excited child.

"Why should I? You are a researcher, no?" she chuckled deviously. "Where is the fun if I tell you everything? Fufufu... go and figure out yourself what's true, and what's not. Without challenge, there is no growth!" and then, she teased him back, making the man slump on the counter depressed.

"Ugh! You are the worst! The enemy of progress!"

"I know, I know..." she chuckled, reaching a certain document. "By the way... what is this?" she showed the man a document — a small plastic card where the girl's picture inserted nicely, offering a flat, unamused expression.