I had a dream once.
In it, I walked into QuestHub like a king, sunlight pouring over my shoulders, cape fluttering behind me, girls swooning left and right as I slapped a shiny guild crest down on the counter and declared, "We are Linked Hearts, and we are here to change the world."
That dream did not involve tripping over a potted cactus in the entrance and getting stabbed in the shin.
"Are you bleeding?" Iris asked, peering down with clinical curiosity.
"Emotionally? Yes," I grunted.
Today was supposed to be our official guild registration. No more 'temporary team.' No more handwritten badge on cardboard. We were going full-on, certified, government-recognized Guild.
I had prepared a speech.
I had not prepared paperwork.
"Alright, state your business," the receptionist droned. A different one this time — this guy had a beard braided with pencils and an aura of bureaucratic despair.
I cleared my throat confidently. "Raizen, Guildmaster of Linked Hearts, here to register our guild and—"
"Great. Show me your founding charter, crest application form, three party licenses, and a Guild Intent Document notarized by a System official."
"…"
He stared at me.
I stared at Lina.
Lina stared at Iris.
Iris blinked. "Didn't you say you had this covered?"
"I did! I do! I… wait, what's a 'Guild Intent Document'?!"
"You're joking," the man said.
I was not joking.
"You can't just declare a guild like it's a birthday party," Pencil-Beard grumbled. "There are laws. Safety protocols. Tax brackets."
"Wait, tax?!"
"I'm out," Lina said immediately.
"Your crest design also violates Section 18 of the Symbol Clarity Act," the man continued, holding up our "Linked Hearts" doodle. "This is just two hearts holding hands."
"That's the point," I said, wounded.
"It also has a smiley face and is scented."
"…We got carried away."
By now, a small crowd had gathered. Including a group of smug-looking adventurers from another guild — "Blazing Tyrants," if the flaming red capes and constant flexing were anything to go by.
One of them, a guy with an eight-pack and more hair gel than sense, leaned over and said, "First time registering, champ?"
"Don't engage," Iris whispered.
"I'm fine," I muttered through clenched teeth.
"No, but really," the guy went on, laughing with his crew. "Don't worry. You'll get it next time. Unless your guild falls apart first. That's the usual story."
I took a deep breath. Thought about punching him. Then realized I'd have to re-do even more paperwork if I caused a scene.
Eventually, the receptionist slid my pathetic stack of half-filled forms back across the counter.
"Rejected," he said, stamping it with a giant red ❌.
"Incomplete documentation. Illegible handwriting. And, quote, 'Lina wrote 'Because we're awesome' in the mission statement.'"
"She's not wrong," I muttered.
"No," the man replied, "but it's not legally binding."
We walked out of QuestHub in silence.
Humiliated.
Paperwork-less.
And still very much un-guilded.
"On the bright side," I offered weakly, "they didn't ban us for life?"
Lina sighed. "Can't believe you forgot everything."
"I didn't forget everything! I brought snacks!" I pulled a squished bun from my bag.
Iris took it, unwrapped it, and ate it in three silent bites.
"…Traitor," Lina said.
As we walked into the afternoon sun, our dreams of instant fame crushed under bureaucracy, I couldn't help but feel like the world had just laughed in our faces.
But weirdly… it didn't feel like the end.
It felt like the start of something very stupid, and very fun.
We would return.
With paperwork.
And vengeance.
End of Chapter 16