Civil Servant in Romance Fantasy

I settled onto the folding bed Erich had given me as a gift and looked around the clubroom. With seven members, one advisor, and one honorary member now regularly hanging out, the place felt more crowded compared to last year.

Turning my gaze to the right, I saw Louise checking the oven as she baked cookies. Next to her was the Mage Duchess, who had recently taken an interest in baking, while Sarah was assisting with carrying the ingredients. It refreshing to see that these members were still untouched by the madness of the others.

They’re getting along well.

It was especially comforting that Louise and Sarah seemed to be on good terms. From Sarah’s perspective, aside from the Mage Duchess, Louise was the only other female member, and not just any member—she was the club president. It would be awkward if they didn’t get along.

Besides, Louise would become Sarah’s sister-in-law once they graduate from the academy. There was no harm in them getting friendly now, right?

Yep, this is definitely the pastry club.

It actually felt like a proper pastry club with this trio of pink, white, and gold-haired ladies gathered around the baking table. Sure, Louise was the only one with real baking skills, but just having the others around to watch was something, at least.

And then, there’s them.

Shifting my gaze to the left, I saw five guys who embodied chaos itself. They’d long given up even pretending to be interested. It was hard to imagine that these were the same guys who had eagerly volunteered to join the pastry club at some point.

“You’re always pulling out the strangest tactics.”

“Ha, thanks for the compliment.”

Ainter had just fallen victim to the ‘4-Bishop strategy’ in a chess match against Lather, who just laughed it off. For Lather, it was high praise.

A chess match was unfolding right here in the pastry clubroom even as Louise baked in real time on one side of the room. You’d think someone would object to this insanity, but no—the male members watched the game with eager eyes, showing no signs of stopping the madness.

“Let me play next.”

“Oh, beating the future saint with a bishop? That would be something special!”

And they weren’t just observing anymore—they were actively participating.

And seriously, what was up with the early gloating? Shouldn’t they wait until after winning to start bragging?

This is supposed to be the pastry club.

I closed my eyes, unable to watch this spectacle any longer. I’d witnessed similar nonsense last year, but back then, they had the excuse of all being collectively rejected by Louise. I could understand a bit of floundering after being turned down by the girl they were crazy about. It was why I turned a blind eye to the pastry club’s evolution into a chess, poker, and foot volleyball club.

But this year was different. They had the whole winter vacation to get over it, and a new school year had started. Surely it was time to stop wandering and get back on track.

Though honestly, turning the pastry club into a multi-purpose entertainment club could technically be considered a fresh start.

They’re all crazy.

That was my mistake. They had shown occasional competence and brainpower that I’d almost forgotten that these guys were lunatics at heart.

“Eat first before you play. The cookies are done.”

Louise’s voice, announcing the completion of the cookies, delayed Tannian’s inevitable loss in chess. Besides, I couldn’t picture Rutis losing.

“We could play while eating—“

“You’ll just end up spilling everything.”

Her firm declaration to focus solely on eating made Rutis click his tongue in disappointment.

Even I felt a sigh coming on at the absurdity of this conversation. So it didn’t matter whether they played chess or not as long as they ate?

They’ve compromised.

It wasn’t only the male members embracing the madness—Louise, the club leader, had surrendered as well. It didn’t seem to matter to her anymore whether they played chess in the clubroom or went outside for a game of foot volleyball. She seemed satisfied as long as they ate the pastries or bread she made and gathered to chat.

Of course, the true purpose of an academy club was to foster camaraderie, so it wasn’t entirely off-track. Still, shouldn’t they at least try to uphold the club’s founding purpose?

I’m sorry.

I couldn’t help but feel a deep, unexplainable guilt as I looked at Sarah, who was smiling softly while nibbling on a cookie.

With the club leader having resigned herself to this state of things, it wasn’t surprising that new members, the Mage Duchess and Sarah, had done the same. The Mage Duchess seemed to find it fascinating, chalking it up to the free-spirited nature of today’s youth. Meanwhile, Sarah had completely accepted the madness, assuming it was the norm.

It was awful. Sarah, who was engaging in social activities for the first time in her life, was being exposed to such abnormality. The head maid would probably break down in tears if she found out.

And there’s nothing I can do about it.

The worst part was that I couldn’t even stop this strange situation.

They were behaving less like a pastry club and more like a multi-purpose entertainment club, but to be honest, it wasn’t really causing me any harm. It was just disheartening to see the club not living up to its name.

Still, they consistently showed up, making it easier for me to keep an eye on them. They enjoyed their little games quietly and caused no disturbances. From an Advisor’s perspective, wasn’t this the best-case scenario? If I tried to intervene and they said, ‘Then we’ll go hang out elsewhere,’ I’d probably have to beg them not to leave.

…As long as they’re happy.

I forced myself to see the bright side. The club leader wasn’t objecting, and wasn’t it enough if all the members were happy? As an advisor, putting the happiness and safety of the members first was my job. So, shouldn’t I be glad to see them enjoying themselves?

Yes, I should just think of it that way.

***Fortunately, someone outside the club had a more objective view of the situation.

“You might need to change the club name soon.”

“I think so, too.”

Marghetta said with an awkward smile after hearing my grumbles. If only one out of seven members was actually doing any baking, then it wasn’t really a pastry club anymore, but more like a club with 0.03% baking essence.

I felt a pang of cognitive dissonance. Our only new members seemed to have the enthusiasm but no baking skills, while the older members had the skills but none of the passion. The balance was completely out of whack. Who the hell set things up like this?

“At least they seem to care about the club itself.”

Marghetta said, trying to find a silver lining, and I nodded in agreement.

As I had stressed countless times, the pastry club was more about its actual function than its outward appearance. It didn’t matter if the members loved baking if we couldn’t keep people like Rutis or Lather around. But it was enough if we could keep everyone together, even if the club became a pastry club in name only.

I hope it stays this way.

Still, I couldn’t help feeling a bit worried. These guys had already thrown away the club’s outward function and were doing whatever they wanted. It wasn’t hard to imagine that one day they might disregard the entire concept of a club altogether.

So, please—please let things stay like this until graduation. I don’t care anymore if it’s a pastry club, a foot volleyball club, or even if they turned the clubroom into a casino as long as they stuck together.

“But Carl, I didn’t want to bring this up right now…”

Marghetta spoke up carefully while I was mentally preparing to calm down Louise, who would undoubtedly be upset.

I felt a sense of dread. What could she possibly want to say now?

“You remember that the registration period for the club fair is coming up soon, right?”

“Oh.”

“You had completely forgotten.”

Suddenly, a memory buried in the back of my mind resurfaced. Right, the first major event in the academy’s annual schedule was the club fair. Last year, it had caused quite a stir, with both the 1st and 4th Managers attending due to the Third Honor.

“We need to submit our booth plans for each club. So, what’s the pastry club planning to do this year?”

“…”

I couldn’t bring myself to answer. There was no way I could confidently shout, ‘We’ll be running a baking booth again this year!’

Judging by the current state of things, someone was bound to suggest running a completely different booth.

***And as always, my ominous predictions never failed.

“Isn’t it a bit boring to run the same booth two years in a row?”

As expected, Rutis, with his devilish grin, was the first to open his mouth and kick things off.

I almost slapped my forehead. Of course we were supposed to continue with the same booth theme; it was a club booth, after all. What other theme would we run if it wasn’t connected to the club? Other clubs would probably cry if they heard that.

I didn’t even have to look far. Louise’s face already showed clear shock. This must be the difference between a madman and a normal person.

“Booths are supposed to stick with the same theme.”

“Oh, really?”

Yes, you idiot.

The words rose to my throat, but I held them back. The 78th season Rutis wasn’t the same as last year’s. His merits still far outweighed his faults… for now. So, I had to tolerate him.

Why am I even having this conversation?

A wave of futility washed over me. Was it really necessary to debate the club fair booth theme? Shouldn’t we naturally stick with last year’s baking concept?

“Do clubs usually run booths unrelated to their theme these days?”

“No…”

Even the Mage Duchess, who was watching this ridiculous scene, quietly asked Louise if something had changed over the last century.

Of course, Louise responded in a voice filled with defeat, as if her heart was breaking. Hearing that, even the Mage Duchess’s face showed signs of confusion.

Damn it.

I suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape and glanced at Erich, who stood there staring blankly. I needed to rally as many sane people as possible before the lunatics took over completely.

Thankfully, Erich caught my look and hurriedly spoke up. The glare I shot him—the one that screamed, ‘I’m going to lose it if you don’t stop this madness’—must have done the trick.

“Wouldn’t it make sense to run a baking booth? We turned down new members on the grounds that they couldn’t bake, so it would be weird if we gave up baking ourselves.”

“That’s true. If we lose that justification, the control we’ve barely established will crumble.”

Lather added, backing Erich’s argument.

I was genuinely moved. My two valuable allies, manpower nos. 2 and 3, were following my lead. Was this what it felt like to be a boss managing his subordinates?

…What would I have done without them?

Without them, I would’ve had to convince all five of these members by myself.

That was a terrifying thought. Thinking back, it was amazing that I survived last year without losing my mind.