[1]
"Mr. Ludwig, here’s the 'Annual Soul Dedication Rate Analysis' you requested."
I stared at the Excel sheet auto-filling on my screen, then looked down at the mini-familiar at my feet frantically typing with its claws—
—wearing stolen stationery goggles, its tail curled around a coffee stirrer as a stylus, the very image of an overworked hellspawn salaryman.
"Who told you to predict layoffs using 'Abyss Algorithm'?" I hissed. "The spreadsheet is bleeding!"
The familiar adjusted imaginary glasses: "But your boss said 'show me blood and determination'… Literal interpretation, okay?"
Then the office intercom crackled to life:
"Ludwig-kun, report to HR immediately—repeat, immediately."
The familiar and I froze. On the screen, a flashing red line had just appeared:
[Termination Probability: 99.9% | Reason: HR Director detected carrying holy-attribute weapon]
[2]
Hoshino Akira’s office reeked of unnatural lavender—clearly laced with exorcism oil. Her coffee cup sat before her, silver powder (blessed salt, my nose twitched) undissolved at the bottom.
"The company’s been receiving 'anonymous curse letters,'" she slid over papers inked with inverted pentagrams in blood. "Funny… they started when you joined."
Cold sweat dripped down my back. Those were the familiar’s "snack orders"—it’d written shopping lists in demonic runes!
"Truth time." She suddenly produced a glowing sheet (the Goddess Church’s "Oath of Verity"). "Place your hand here and answer: Have you used supernatural forces to manipulate workplace affairs?"
The room trembled. The familiar squirmed wildly in my pocket. Just as my fingers neared the paper—
BANG!
The fire sprinklers exploded, drenching us in holy water!
"AAAH IT BURNS—!" I shrieked (holy water + dark beings = acid shower), while Hoshino stared stunned at her soaked blouse. Her cross pendant blazed gold, projecting a giant sword’s silhouette in the mist…
The same one that’d stabbed me 300 years ago.
[3]
"Are you… alright?" Hoshino offered a towel, her fingertips prickling like static. "Earlier… you yelled 'Hero'?"
"'Pool!'" I lied as the familiar wriggled up my sleeve. "I said this building needs an employee pool! Ha… haha…"
She leaned in close enough to count her eyelashes: "Then why…"
"…does your subordinate’s Excel auto-update a 'Hero Combat Power Analysis' sheet?"
My pupils shook! The familiar had sneaked to her PC and was tail-typing:
[Hoshino Akira | Holy Power: ★★★★★ | Threat Level: MAX | Recommended Action: Feed sweets to lower guard]
"This is… an AI test program!" I shoved the familiar into a microwave (its screams cut off by the ding). "Our cutting-edge 'Humanized HR Assessment System™'!"
Hoshino sipped her coffee, leaving a gilded lip print (divine enchantment).
"Funny." She smiled. "In my past life… I handled similar systems."
[4]
During late-night overtime, the familiar munched shredded documents: "Sire, that woman’s totally the Hero’s reincarnation, right?"
"But she didn’t draw her sword," I rubbed my holy-water burns. "Modern Heroes… should be civil servants."
The familiar froze: "Wait—smell that?"
The vents carried a metallic tang. We pried open the basement door—
Dozens of "voluntary overtime" employees typed with glowing green eyes, Goddess Church contracts floating above them. The walls bore slogans:
[Dedicate your soul for promotion]16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMIeptJYAJc
[Death is the ultimate attendance]
"Oh hell…" The familiar’s fur stood on end. "This company’s the Goddess’ outsourcing church!"
ns3.14.134.62da2
will be deducted 
and then Add to home screen.