The sun barely peeked over the horizon when Fujino Tetsuya found himself staring at the official paperwork stamped with the seal of the Duke’s family.
“Let me get this straight.” He rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache forming. “You—ahem—Lady Fiora, have officially been assigned as my supervisor? As in, you’re in charge of watching over me?”
Fiora, the loli-looking (but absolutely not loli) noblewoman, nodded with a satisfied smirk. Her short stature and frilly aristocratic dress made her look like she was playing at being an adult, but her smug attitude was that of a seasoned bureaucrat.
“It’s only natural! We cannot allow a perverted sage to operate freely without oversight. My presence will ensure you do not cause any… disturbances.”
Fujino pinched the bridge of his nose. “Disturbances? I’m just farming.”
Fiora raised an eyebrow. “Yes, because farming typically involves ritualistic dances in your underwear, howling at the moon while summoning apple trees.”
“That was ONE TIME.”
“I have witness reports.”
“Lies. Propaganda. Slander.” Fujino waved a hand dismissively. “Next, you’ll say the golem drones are filing formal complaints.”
Fiora cleared her throat and pulled out another document.
“Actually, they have.”
Fujino snatched the paper and read it aloud. “'Subject exhibits extreme irrational behavior during agricultural attempts. Possible malfunction of cognitive functions. Suggested corrective measures: Forced rehabilitation or reinstallation of sanity drivers.'” He slowly lowered the document. “They think I’m a broken machine?!”
Fiora shrugged. “I’m inclined to agree.”
With a groan, Fujino threw the paper aside. “Fine. Whatever. Enjoy supervising nothing, because I’m just going to continue planting crops and living my peaceful—”
A loud crash echoed from his haunted house.
“—life. GODDAMMIT.”
---
**The Ghost That Just Won’t Leave**
That night, after Fiora had retired to her temporary quarters (because apparently, supervising required living on his farm), Fujino braced himself for round two with his unwanted paranormal resident.
He tiptoed to the kitchen, clutching a rolled-up newspaper like a weapon. “Alright, you little ghost brat, I don’t know what unfinished business you have, but can we negotiate? You haunt someone else, and I won’t throw salt at you.”
A soft giggle echoed through the room. Then—
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BANG.
His chair flipped over by itself. The dishes rattled. A cold wind swept through the house, despite every window being shut. And then, from the darkness, a small, smug-looking ghost girl materialized, her translucent body floating above the ground. She had frilly gothic clothes, twin drills in her spectral hair, and a VERY punchable expression.
“Mortal fool,” she said, arms crossed. “You dare resist the spirit of this house? I, Lady Elvira von Doomschloss, have haunted these lands for centuries! Kneel before me!”
Fujino stared. Then sighed. “Oh great, an edgy chuunibyou ghost. This is worse than I thought.”
Elvira puffed up her ghostly chest. “You should tremble in fear! For I shall make your nights a living hell!”
“You already are,” Fujino deadpanned. “I just want to farm.”
“A foolish mortal’s wish! But alas, fate has decreed that I must torment you for eternity!” She raised a hand, and suddenly his blanket flew out the window. “Your suffering begins NOW!”
Fujino clutched his head. “WHY?! WHY CAN’T I JUST SLEEP?!”
Elvira grinned. “Because it amuses me.”
“Oh, you wanna play that game?” Fujino cracked his knuckles. “Fine. I was trying to be nice, but if it’s a battle of wills you want—”
With a dramatic swirl, he pulled out a tactic worse than any exorcism.
A wooden ladle.
Elvira’s smirk faltered. “What… what are you—”
With a battle cry, Fujino yeeted the ladle at her.
It passed harmlessly through, of course, because she was a ghost. But the intent behind it was clear.
“DON’T THROW THINGS AT ME, YOU LOWLY PEASANT!”
“I CAN’T HIT YOU ANYWAY, SO WHO CARES?!”
Thus began the most ridiculous ghost-human war ever witnessed, complete with flying furniture, overturned soup pots, and a screaming ghost loli being chased around by an enraged ex-Demon Lord armed with whatever household items he could find.
---
**The Aftermath**
By morning, Fiora entered the kitchen to find Fujino slumped over the table, exhausted, with Elvira floating beside him, looking equally tired.
She raised an eyebrow. “...Do I even want to ask?”
Fujino weakly lifted a hand. “Fiora. We have a new problem.”
The ghost waved. “I live here now.”
Fiora pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know what? Not my problem.”
And so, Fujino’s life got even more complicated.
---
**The Icing on the Cake**
Later that day, Noele leaned against the wooden fence of Fujino’s so-called “farm,” arms crossed, an insufferably smug grin plastered across her face.
“Well, well, well,” she drawled, watching as Fujino sat slumped in the dirt, eyes hollow, soul practically escaping from his mouth. “The mighty Demon Lord, reduced to… this.”
Fujino barely mustered the energy to glare at her. His shirt was barely hanging on his shoulders, his hair was a mess, and there were faint bruises from last night’s ghost battle—which was still a fresh trauma in his mind. “Noele,” he croaked. “Have I ever told you how much I hate your face?”
She burst into laughter. “Oh, come on! I thought you wanted to live a peaceful farmer’s life! You should be thanking me for not interfering.”
“*Peaceful* was the keyword, you discount RPG tutorial NPC!” he snapped. “Do you see this situation?! I have a loli supervisor, I have *two ghosts*, and I haven’t slept because one of them tried to strangle me with a bedsheet!” He pointed wildly at Fiora, who was busy jotting down notes in a tiny booklet like a diligent office worker, and then at Elvira, who floated beside him, looking equally exhausted.
Noele cupped her chin, pretending to consider this. “Huh. You know, I think this is exactly what you deserve.”
“I am living in a *bad dating sim*,” Fujino continued, staring blankly at the sky. “You know the kind—the ones where every route is a *cursed* route. No matter what choices you make, you *lose*. You either get haunted, arrested, or stuck with a bureaucrat in child-sized packaging.”
“For the last time,” Fiora muttered without looking up from her notes, “I am *not* a loli.”
“I *called the police* in my head,” Fujino whimpered. “They never came.”
Noele wiped a tear from her eye. “Oh, this is great. This is the *best* day of my life.”
And somewhere, in the distance, Fujino swore he could hear the gods laughing at him.
