My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World



"Ah, there's my employee of the decade - Michael! Come, sit, take a seat." 

Jamie's smile was a blinding glow of pride and admiration even before Michael opened the door to his office. 

A month had already passed since the day he first walked himself into employment. Much has changed in that moderately brief span of time, relationships, way of life, and even Jamie's office too. 

The desk in the middle now was rarely ever cluttered, and when Jamie swivels and sways about in his seat no longer would he also be accompanied by a cacophony of creaking parts and rickety wheels. 

Perhaps the best quality-of-life improvement made was to the ceiling fan above. Gone were the rusted crooked blades, just barely holding by through loose layers of duct tape. Michael took his place opposite Jamie, his toolbelt rustling around his waist, feeling his effort and dedication be rewarded with a cooling breeze spinning rigorously overhead him without a single hint of sound. 

"Just a month in, and you've already made your mark as the employee of the month - heck, the year, even - bar none," Jamie was still smiling, the expression on his face echoing his praise. "I'm sure Rudy won't argue with relinquishing his crown over to you. The boy knows you got him beat there." 

"I do what I am able," Michael simply said.

Jamie laughed.

"This point - just what aren't you actually capable of? You're an all-in-one! Still can't believe this is your first job you've got… where on earth have you been all this time? Anyone, anywhere would kill to have a guy like you on payroll - I am lucky - blessed day that day the first time I had you in here. God is good." 

"If not for you, I wouldn't be here," Michael said. "So I must thank you as well  for providing me this opportunity to begin with." 

For a brief moment, they just quietly stared at one another. Then, with an audible exhale of breath, Jamie pulled open a drawer, a small wryly glint in his eyes. 

"Alright, that's enough buttering each other up - won't keep you waiting any longer. Here's what you're really here for." 

In one hand, Jamie held up a bulging white envelope beneath the wriggling smirk of his mustache. 

"Your pay," he said, handing the envelope over to Michael, landing in his palm with a stifled smack. "All in cash, as per request. Plus a little extra I added in for you… well… diligence, we'll call it." 

It felt barely like anything at all, the weight in Michael's hand.

Like holding air, like holding nothing. Was this really how it felt to hold money? He understood his position, how wages worked, and the reality of how much he stood to earn here. Michael took a peek inside, a modest bundle of green staring back at him… It was just as he expected it to be, just as he accepted it to be… and yet still, he couldn't help himself.

Michael wanted more. 

"Thank you," Michael grunted, folding the envelope back close.

"You've earned it," Jamie offered his hand to which Michael promptly reciprocated, shaking it once. "Here's to many more months just like this." 

When Michael returned to the floor, he barely made it five steps before Rudy popped up at him over the opened hood of a disassembled Sedan.

"Someone looks happy," the young man remarked. "If my eyes don't deceive me, I'm pretty sure that's the face of payday right there. Well? I'm right, right?" 

Michael blankly stared at him, watching the sweat drip down from his bright eyes to the dimpled curve of his cheeks. 

"I think you're the one wearing that face actually," he replied. 

"Ah, that obvious, huh?" Rudy snickered, slamming down the hood in a small explosion of grime and rust. "Free tonight? Come, we'll celebrate! Matt! Charles! You guys in?" 

Michael was already used to celebrating. Everyone here had a tendency to commemorate the smallest of affairs usually in the form of a get-together. 

The first time, Matt had kept him until late after midnight in a swarm of empty glass pints over the counter of a shabby bar, lost in an incoherent ramble of memories until the old man eventually passed out. In another instance, Charles needed him as the fourth man in a long game of poker, the results of which still resounded bitterly in his head and a lesson learned of his vast aversion for gambling. 

Rudy was usually dragged alongside him to every misadventure, either too eager or just much too kind to simply decline any offer he was given. As such, he rarely ever played host to any kind of occasion, if any at all. 

Which makes his proposition now quite intriguing indeed. 

"There'll be drinks?" Matt croaked from somewhere below, shabby, hole-ridden shoes jutting out from under a car. 

"As much as you can handle," Rudy answered.

"Hmm," the pair of shoes began to move around in interest. "You're treat?" 

"If you ever do decide to retire, old man - then consider this your early retirement gift from me, alright?" 

A single thumbs-up poked out from the narrow gap. "Sounds good to me." 

Charles leaned out from his desk, still in the middle of his break with a half-eaten sandwich bulging from his cheeks. Nodding once, he disappeared again into his lunch. 

"That just leaves you, Michael," Rudy said, clenching his fists and staring hard with bated breath. "Well? Not gonna let me down, are you? Did so much for me around here, gonna really eat me up inside if I don't get this payback. What do you say?" 

"Okay," Michael said after a moment of thought. "I'll go." 

Rudy thumped the side of Michael's chest firmly, enthusiastically. A blunt hit that didn't even register. 

"That's my man! Okay! Alright! The four musketeers! Hey, make sure you call home first, alright? Don't wanna wander back to bed with an angry wife on the other side - Matt's already got plenty of experience with that." 

"Fuckin' heard that," Matt faintly grumbled. 

"And like I said before, don't you worry nothing about the expenses," Rudy continued on. "After all, sometimes it's the senior's job to take care of his juniors, right?" 

"Senior?" a vicious laugh echoed from the same pair of shoes. "You? With that patch of pubic hair across your chin you call a beard? Okay, kid, whatever you say." 

Another chuckle shot out from the other end of the room, followed immediately by the sound of violent choking and hacking. Rudy simply took it all in stride, or at least to the best of his capabilities, straining hard to keep the red out of his face. 

"Yeah, so anyway," he muttered, shrugging away. "Lots of fun tonight. Don't go anywhere after work." 

Eventually, the thought occurred to Michael that he should at the very least inquire more about their impromptu outing, asking finally, "Where do you have in mind?" 

"What, worried it won't be to your liking? That my taste might be a little too young and boring for you?" Rudy glanced right back round, wearing a confident smile. "Don't worry, I got you covered - you'll enjoy this, I promise. Nothing too wild, of course. We're just gonna go and unwind is all." 

Then right before he turned away again, Michael saw him raise both brows. 

"Speaking of which," Rudy said. "You've been clubbing before, right?