The Administrator の小説・ストーリー

The Nameless One replied and he paused for a breath or two. Both Orvil and Vina had wanted him to add more and the man who had no name to call his own did not disappoint. “The Administrator is beyond my understanding. She remains ever unfathomable no matter how hard or what method i try to pierce unto her disguise.” “So to answer your question again, you are indeed not mistaken, Vina. I really could not lay a hand on any of you. Else I invite the anger of the Administrator in my home." Maru replied frankly.

I stood in the center of the chaos, my hair whipping around my face, my skin glowing with a light that made the purple sky look dim. The Administrator scrambled to his feet, his face twisted in horror. "This... this is impossible! The system doesn't have a record for this! You’re overwriting the root directory!" He raised his silver rod, his fingers flying through the air as he tried to pull up a command window. A blue screen appeared in front of him, filled with lines of white text. "Delete! Erase! Format!" he shouted, his voice cracking.

The red warnings vanish, replaced by a single line of text in a font that hasn't been used since the world formatted itself into this prison. [STATUS: VERIFIED] [IDENTITY: ARIA BLACKWOOD] [RANK: ADMINISTRATOR PRIME] The Council Hall falls into a silence so profound I can hear the click of the cooling vents. Valerius’s mouth hangs open. Administrator Prime. It is a rank higher than the High Elder. It is a rank that hasn't been held by a living person in three hundred years. I pull my hand back. The puncture on my finger has already healed, replaced by a thin line of glowing mercury.

Adrian's POV "Thank you for seeing me on short notice," I began, settling into the chair across from the hospital administrator with the deliberate ease of someone who has arrived without urgency, as though this meeting were entirely routine. Her name was Dr. Sandra Okafor, and she had been managing the hospital's administrative operations for eleven years with a reputation for procedural precision and the specific professional composure of someone who had encountered influence in many forms and had learned to recognize it regardless of the clothing it wore. She did not smile in greeting and she did not apologize for not smiling.

"What exactly do you mean by an administrative update? I have always paid the holding deposit on Fridays to ensure her machines remain powered for the weekend." The clerk let out a long, deeply irritated sigh and picked up a heavy desk telephone, punching in a rapid extension code. "Please remain exactly where you are, sir, as the senior department administrator will have to come out here and explain the new billing regulations to you directly." I stood frozen in front of the glass partition for several agonizing minutes until a tall, painfully thin man wearing a cheap, ill-fitting gray suit emerged from a heavy side door. He carried a digital tablet tucked securely under his arm, his expres

said Samantha in a probing manner. “Sure, I’ll do that.” Samantha smiled upon hearing that and wrapped her arms around Adrian’s neck. “Thank you, dear!” Adrian smiled and hugged Samantha in his arms. Both of them stood in the sky garden for a while before heading downstairs. *** Meanwhile, in Novemton’s administration department, the staff members of the command center headed to the main office after receiving Adrian’s call. Ever since Crystal rose to the throne, the person in charge of managing Novemton’s administration department was a man named Scott Yellen who used to work for Internal Affairs.

"The man I replaced. He administered this facility for seven years and what he administered was not what I administer and the difference is not nothing but it is also not as much as I would prefer it to be on the mornings I think about it directly." I think about what is underneath that sentence. The not as much as I would prefer. The mornings I think about it directly, which implies there are mornings he does not think about it directly, which implies a choice he has made about when to look and when not to, which is a choice I recognize. "What happened to him," I say. "He is not administering anything anymore," Cruz says. Flat. Final.

"It requires a twelve-digit faculty administrative key. We can't just guess a password with that much encryption. Luca’s burner accounts are buried behind a faculty firewall." Grinding my back teeth together, I scanned the vast, empty basement. Twenty yards away, a high-level IT administrator sat slumped inside a glass-walled cubicle. A stained nametag reading *BARNES* hung crookedly from his lanyard. He was rhythmically tapping a pen against his chin, staring blankly at a sprawling spreadsheet. "We don't need to guess it," I murmured. "Barnes is logged in over there. His terminal has master access."

“Who has the ability to modify entries in the visitor management system. Not just view. Modify.” He looks at me. His expression does not change. His hands, resting flat on the file in front of him, do not move. “That’s a fairly specific question,” he says. “I’m a fairly specific person,” I say. A small smile. Controlled. “Executive administrators have modification access. The CFO’s office has read access for compliance purposes. I can pull the full permission list if you’d like.” “Please,” I say. He makes a note. His pen moves across the paper and his hands are completely still when he lifts it, the specific stillness of someone who has already decided what they are going to write and does n

Now was her chance to test them. Expecting to be working at this for a while, she was amazed when the very first suggestion worked. Hitting the 3-finger salute at the login screen popped up a login window. She entered "administrator" as she'd been told, without a password, and - miracle-of-miracles - she was in, with full access! Two minutes later, following the instructions on her cheat sheet, the administrator account had a password, her password, and she had unlimited access.