"Summer’s really brutal this year..." Zerena muttered as the bus finally dropped them off in front of the registration office.

The building looked exactly like the sort of government office Max had expected.

Old.

Slightly worn.

Yet somehow still standing through what looked like several generations of budget cuts.

At least whoever designed the place had possessed enough mercy to plant plenty of trees around it. The greenery softened the otherwise dull surroundings, while a steady stream of people walked in and out through the entrance.

"Hopefully there aren’t any queues..." Zerena sighed.

That was the first thing she’d said to him since they’d left the house.

Not that Max had exactly been helping keep the conversation alive.

Back on Earth, leaving the house had already required a surprising amount of mental preparation. Casual conversations with strangers ranked somewhere between public speaking and voluntarily setting himself on fire on his list of enjoyable activities.

Fortunately, things were a little different now.

He was the main character.

Or at least that was what he kept telling himself whenever his old habits threatened to drag him back indoors.

"You brought all the documents, right?" Zerena asked.

Max nodded.

"Good. Let’s get you registered, then."

The two of them headed inside the registration office.

Fortunately, Zerena’s wish had come true.

There wasn’t a queue.

That alone felt like a minor miracle for a government building.

There were still plenty of people inside, though. Most were parents accompanying their children through their first registration, the waiting area filled with excited conversations and nervous faces.

Max couldn’t help glancing around.

Nearly every kid there looked younger than him.

That simple realization made him feel strangely out of place.

A tiny knot of anxiety immediately formed in his stomach.

’Please don’t ask why I’m registering this late...’

He had no idea whether anyone actually cared.

But his former shut-in instincts had already begun preparing for an interrogation that almost certainly wasn’t coming.

Thankfully, Zerena was there.

Before they’d entered, she’d already made one thing perfectly clear.

’If they ask anything, keep your mouth shut. I’ll handle it.’

Max had been more than happy to follow those instructions.

As it turned out, he hadn’t needed to worry in the first place.

Nothing unusual happened.

He handed over his documents, placed a hand on a crystal ball, and watched it glow faintly as it confirmed he had indeed awakened.

That was it.

Nobody questioned why he was older than most first-time applicants.

Nobody looked particularly surprised.

In fact, the employee barely looked interested in him at all.

With the sort of practiced boredom unique to government workers who had repeated the same sentence several thousand times, the clerk handed over his mage license.

"Thank you for visiting us."

...That was the entire registration.

Max blinked.

"It was... easy," he muttered, sounding almost disappointed.

Zerena glanced sideways at him, the corner of her mouth lifting into a faintly mocking smile.

"What?" she asked. "Were you expecting them to make you take written exams, fight a few monsters, and prove yourself worthy before handing it over?"

Max thought about it for a second.

"...A little."

Max had honestly expected something along those lines.

After all, if there weren’t any tests...

How was anyone supposed to know whether a newly awakened mage was a genius or an idiot?

Zerena seemed to read the question straight off his face.

"They used to," she said. "Back then, everyone had to demonstrate their abilities."

She shrugged.

"People quickly realized that was a terrible idea."

"Showing off your abilities in front of strangers is just asking to become someone’s next target. Enough mages protested that the Association eventually stopped making it mandatory."

Then she added casually,

"If you really want one, the military still offers aptitude evaluations at their bases."

Max had absolutely no interest in that.

The fewer people who realized exactly how absurd his talent was, the better.

At least until he became strong enough that people thinking about exploiting him became their problem instead of his.

Even if he liked joking about being this world’s main character...

He was still firmly stuck in the leveling-up arc.

Charging straight into the spotlight before reaching the overpowered part sounded less like protagonist behavior and more like the opening Chapter of a cautionary tale.

"I’m fine," Max said without hesitation.

Then another thought occurred to him.

"So... is getting a potion-making permit going to be this easy too?"

"I thought you already knew," Zerena said, raising an eyebrow. "You’re the one who suggested it."

Max blinked.

Right...

He had completely forgotten about that.

Well, technically, he hadn’t suggested getting a potion-maker’s permit because he actually knew anything about the process.

At the time, he’d only said it was easy to keep the conversation going.

Which, in his defense, had been rather difficult considering it had also happened to be the first time Zerena’s breasts had ever been in his hands.

His priorities had been... elsewhere.

Receiving no answer, Zerena simply continued.

"It has to be easy," she explained. "I already have a licensed magic laboratory. We’re basically just informing them that we’ll be using it to brew potions as well."

Max couldn’t help wondering whether they were handing out potion-making permits to practically anyone.

"So..." he asked as they walked out, "isn’t it dangerous to give those permits to just anyone?"

"Not just anyone," Zerena replied. "I’m a mage. An experienced one. I know what’s dangerous and what isn’t."

She tucked the newly issued permit away before continuing.

"Besides, I already went through all the regulations when I established my laboratory. This is basically just an extension of that. They also carry out routine inspections."

Barely half an hour after walking in, the two of them were already back outside.

Honestly, Max was impressed.

That might’ve been one of the biggest improvements over his previous world.

Government offices here actually seemed interested in getting things done.

Back on Earth, obtaining a driver’s license usually involved multiple visits, paperwork, waiting in endless queues, and enough bureaucratic suffering to qualify as a minor endurance trial.

Meanwhile, getting permission to operate something as potentially dangerous as a magic laboratory—which, from a paperwork perspective, felt strangely comparable to opening a soap-making workshop back home—had taken surprisingly little effort.

Maybe fantasy worlds weren’t so bad after all.

"So," Max asked, glancing toward Zerena, "how are we getting to the lab?"

Zerena didn’t answer immediately.

She was too busy smiling to herself as she flipped through the small stack of books she’d received along with the potion-maker’s license, looking considerably happier than she had all morning.

"Let’s take a taxi," Zerena said, sounding noticeably happier than she had all morning.