The steady ticking of the ornate clock filled the grand office, marking yet another endless afternoon of work.

Diavolo leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms as he surveyed the overwhelming stacks of paperwork spread across his desk. Scrolls, official letters, and requests cluttered the surface, nearly toppling over onto the polished floor.

With a sigh, he ran a hand through his red hair, brushing aside a stray lock that had fallen into his golden eyes. Standing up, he walked over to the towering bookshelf that lined the wall and stared at it for a moment, more out of distraction than necessity.

The words he had scribbled on the chalkboard-like planning slate earlier in the day caught his eye: “Stay focused: No more than three tea breaks!” He chuckled softly to himself, knowing he was already well over that self-imposed limit. Next to the slate, a small dent in the wall served as a reminder of a past incident—when he'd slammed his fist in frustration over some absurd treaty clause.

“Man, this is ridiculous,” Diavolo muttered, glancing back at his desk, where the chaos of royal duties awaited him.

“Maybe I should have Barbatos handle the rest of this. I’m the future King of the Devildom, not a glorified secretary!”

He paused, considering the colorful chaos left behind.

“Yeah, paperwork is definitely not my thing."