The Dragon Lord's Aide Wants to Quit [BL] Chapter 3: Welcome Back

Riley found himself standing before the reception desk of the Human Resources department. A document folder was clutched in one hand, and a decidedly bitter taste of irony coated his tongue. Clearing his throat, he spoke, "Hello. I would like to withdraw the request for an aide replacement that I submitted last week."

The HR clerk, a most cheerful elf by the name of Mina, looked up at him with wide eyes. "Oh, hello there! Are you referring to the irrevocably filed resignation form listed under 'Final Freedom: No Take Backs'?" she inquired, accessing his records on her terminal.

"...Yes. That particular one," Riley confirmed.

She observed him silently. He offered a weak smile. Her scrutiny intensified.

"Should I inquire as to the reason?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

"I don’t believe I'm permitted to disclose that," Riley responded, and this was no jest. "It might be classified. Potentially... magically bound."

Mina slowly closed the file panel. "Ah. I comprehend. So, you are... still in the employ of the Dragon Lord, then?"

Riley gave an almost imperceptible nod, as if attempting to convince even himself. "Yes."

From her desk drawer, she presented him with a single piece of sympathy chocolate, which he could only accept with a meek "Thank you."

Returning to the office floor, Riley navigated the corridors like a phantom making a spectral reappearance.

A symphony of hushed whispers trailed in his wake, clinging to him like an expensive, yet unwelcome, perfume.

"He actually came back?"

"Perhaps he received a counteroffer?"

"I heard he attempted to incinerate his contract, only for it to mock him with laughter."

He entered the main workspace, making an effort to remain inconspicuous. This endeavor, as expected, proved entirely futile.

"Welcome back, Riley!" Alden from the Accounts department exclaimed cheerfully, emerging from behind an imposing stack of scrolls. Riley jolted in surprise.

"Thanks, Alden," he replied. Though, in truth, it would have been more fitting if Alden had offered words more akin to "My deepest condolences."

"So, you didn't quit after all? Astonishing. I appear to have lost a wager."

"You placed a bet on my resignation?"

Alden nodded affirmatively. "Indeed. Five gold coins on you leaving to join a human rights organization."

From a few desks away, a voice dry as desert sand interjected, "I maintained he wouldn't depart. I posited that the boss had him soul-bound, or something to that effect."

Riley emitted a soft cough. "Haha. Such wild imaginations."

"Precisely!" another voice chimed in. "So, tell us, how substantial was the salary increase offered to persuade you to remain?"

Riley blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Salary increase?"

Reactions erupted around him: gasps, murmurs, and one individual scribbling notes with suspicious alacrity.

During the lunch hour, Riley occupied a seat in the break room, his microwaved meal offering little solace against a profound sense of impending doom and denial.

Lyra, the ever-present receptionist, poked her head into the room. "Hey, it's great you're staying! I was honestly dreading covering your duties. That prospect is quite terrifying."

"Why so?" Riley inquired.

"Because I haven't the faintest idea what you actually do, but the general consensus is that if you leave, we all face certain death."

Riley offered a nonchalant shrug. "That sounds entirely plausible."

Across the small table, Dennis from Inventory provided a supportive thumbs-up. "Welcome back to the grind, man."

"Thanks. It's good to be... owned," Riley mumbled, a statement that hung heavy in the air.

A collective pause ensued among those present.

"Wait, what did you just say?"

"Nothing at all," Riley quickly deflected.

Later, in the hallway, Riley's ears caught the hushed tones of two interns conversing.

"Do you honestly believe he's in love with the boss?" one whispered.

"Don't be absurd," the other responded dismissively. "No one is that emotionally compromised."

Riley continued his walk, his expression carefully neutral.

He was determined not to succumb to tears in the stairwell today.

That particular emotional breakdown would need to be scheduled for the following day.

Ultimately, his excursion to the HR department yielded little more than a dull headache, a freshly printed nameplate, and an ostentatious 'Loyalty Award Certificate.' This certificate, printed on enchanted parchment, possessed a peculiar shimmer that intensified when observed from an angle.

The inscription read: "To Riley Hale, for bravely returning to work subsequent to an attempted departure. We acknowledge and appreciate your renewed commitment to eternal service." A gilded sticker depicting a smirking dragon adorned a corner, serving as a constant, mocking reminder of his predicament.

He remained uncertain whether the award was intended as a comfort or a threat.

Simultaneously, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that perhaps he didn't truly merit such a distinction. Technically speaking, he wasn't even formally employed. His presence was solely a consequence of his boss's continued tenure.

It now seemed futile that he had even bothered to submit his original letter of resignation to HR. It was no wonder Mina's expression had been so peculiar when he initially handed over the document.

Perhaps the poor woman had interpreted his action as an attempt to make a statement? That would explain her odd demeanor upon his return, his metaphorical tail tucked firmly between his legs.

"So, are there any further actions I need to take?" Riley inquired, seeking clarification on any other rescissions required.

"Technically, no. However, should you require a reference for this situation, we have documented it as 'emotional turbulence.' Consequently, it is now officially recorded as a mental health respite."

"...Thank you? I hadn't anticipated that level of assistance."

"We are not obligated to do so, but since no one would have the opportunity to explain under scrutiny, it seems prudent to establish a formal record. We can always choose not to disclose it, after all."

"Oh! And one last item, your award. Please display it prominently. Ideally, positioned above your workstation, within the view of a surveillance orb."

And thus, it was with a certificate tucked securely under his arm that Riley found himself once more outside the Dragon Lord's private office.

He paused at the threshold.

Inhaled deeply.

Exhaled slowly.

Wished he could regret everything anew.

Since escape was impossible when the door swung open on its own, Riley found Kael already present. He stood by the window, clad in his signature all-black attire that likely eclipsed Riley’s entire life savings in cost.

“Good morning, Hale,” Kael greeted, his back still turned. “Back from your little… stroll?”

Riley chose to overlook the subtle jab. “Yes, my Lord. HR has graciously welcomed me back. I am now officially… devoted.”

With a flourish, he placed the certificate upon Kael’s desk. Kael lifted an elegant eyebrow. “You appear rather pleased.”

“I am positively radiant,” Riley responded drily. “Furthermore, I was informed by other HR personnel that cake is only granted after a decade of service. Though, I wonder if such a privilege even extends to individuals of my humble standing?”

A brief laugh escaped Kael. It wasn’t sarcastic, nor was it malicious; simply amused. Yet, for Riley, whose heart was still in the process of mending, it sounded unmistakably like a manic outburst.

Straightening his posture, Riley decided this was as opportune a moment as any. “My Lord, since we are being transparent about magical contracts and unending service…”

Kael turned, regarding him with a look of mild curiosity. “Yes?”

“Might I inquire if I am entitled to hazard pay for being eternally bound to your service? Or perhaps comprehensive dental coverage for eternity?” He idly scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe a salary increase? Or a private chamber devoid of that ghastly cursed wallpaper?”

Kael observed him intently for a prolonged period. The silence stretched, making Riley almost retract his audacious requests. Then, Kael’s lips curved into a smile.

“A raise,” Kael echoed, the word hanging in the air. “For someone who is contractually unable to leave?”

“Precisely. Consider it a measure to protect your investment. High morale cultivates heightened productivity.”

“Hooray,” Riley muttered, offering a half-hearted gesture and a smile that seemed disproportionately strained.

“Very well,” Kael conceded, settling back into his chair. “You may engage in negotiation. Within limits.”

Riley’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait. That actually worked?”

“Modernizing our labor practices,” Kael stated simply.

“I shall interpret that as a positive affirmation,” Riley declared, retrieving a document titled ‘Completely Reasonable Demands’. It was, incidentally, presented in bullet-point format.