Chapter 365: Reunited
The door hinges let out a soft groan as Kaito pushed open the half-closed
entrance.
A faint scent of herbal incense drifted toward him. The small bell hanging above
the door chimed, its crisp sound echoing through the modest space.
Sora was sitting behind a desk that looked like it had been salvaged from a
second-hand market. Her hair was tied back in a practical ponytail, and she wore
a grey jumpsuit with stylized calligraphy embroidered over the heart: Fate-Link.
At that moment, she was bent over a stack of forms, her pen flying across the
paper with intense focus.
Across from her, a man sat awkwardly in a chair, his hands resting on his knees,
nervously rubbing his trousers. He looked to be in his early thirties,
possessing an unremarkable face and heavy bags under his eyes—a man radiating
the profound exhaustion of one who had been repeatedly hammered by the trials of
life.
To the side of the desk sat two other chairs, occupied by two… "employees."
The first was a female Anomaly with deathly pale skin, wearing a red dress that
had been patched in several places. Kaito's soul-fire flickered as he processed
her biometric data.
Wasn't this the Crimson-Dress Child? The Tier-3 Anomaly who had been shivering
on the floor of the ruined factory, paralyzed by his aura?
The second employee was a mass of constantly shifting mist, with blurred faces
occasionally surfacing within the vapor. Fog of a Thousand Faces. He was another
of the five Tier-3 Anomalies that had yielded to Kaito that day.
These two Anomalies were now dressed in the same grey jumpsuits as Sora,
complete with plastic nametags pinned to their chests that read: Senior
Matchmaker.
The pulse of Kaito's soul-fire accelerated.
Sora, clearly unaware of the "Logic Shift" at the doorway, remained entirely
focused on the task at hand.
"Mr. Wang, we have a clear grasp of your foundational parameters," Sora said,
setting down her pen and looking at the man. "Thirty-two years old, city
reconstruction worker, stable monthly income, no destructive habits…"
She lifted the form, pointing to a specific column. "However, regarding this
variable you mentioned… the hemorrhoid issue."
The man's face turned a violent shade of crimson. He averted his gaze, not
daring to look at the two Anomaly matchmakers.
"Ah… yes, well, it's a minor thing. It shouldn't be an issue, really. It just…
gets a bit uncomfortable after sitting for long periods..."
"Think nothing of it. Leave the logistics to us," the Crimson-Dress Child—whose
nametag now read Ruby—said. She snatched the form and scribbled a line in the
remarks column with startling speed.
Kaito's vision focused on the handwriting over her shoulder. The elegant script
read:
[Possessing him is like acquiring a true 'Hemorrhoid-al' Treasure.]
Kaito's mandible underwent a slight mechanical articulation. Logic Error
detected: Linguistic packaging has exceeded reasonable thresholds.
Sora leaned over to check the line and nodded with an expression of professional
satisfaction. "Excellent. Ruby, your copywriting skills are becoming
increasingly refined."
She flipped to the next page. "Mr. Wang, let's verify one more thing. In the
'Marital Status' column, you've listed yourself as 'Divorced'?"
The man's head hung even lower, his voice faint. "Mhm… I've been through it
before."
"And the frequency? How many times?"
"…Eight."
A brief silence descended upon the office.
The mass of vapor known as Misty (Fog of a Thousand Faces) rippled. A gentle,
feminine voice drifted from the mist. "Eight times? That is a massive tactical
advantage."
The man snapped his head up, his face a mask of disbelief. "An advantage?"
"Indisputably." Misty's multiple faces manifested professional smiles
simultaneously as she took the pen and added her own evaluation.
[The House of Eight Divorces.]
"This indicates that you possess an immense reservoir of marital experience,"
Misty's voice was soothing and persuasive. "You have a profound insight into
interpersonal relationships that far exceeds the average variable."
"Many of our female clients seeking stable manifestations place a high value on
emotional experience. After all, no one wants to take an 'Emotional Level 1'
novice and spend months grinding through the basics. It's exhausting."
The man's mouth hung open, his expression shifting from despair to a dazed sort
of hope.
Standing at the door, Kaito also maintained an open-jawed posture.
Sora's expression remained professional. She tapped another section of the form.
"Mr. Wang, in the 'Specialties' column, you've listed 'Cooking'?"
The man nodded instinctively. "Yeah, home-style stuff. It's… okay."
"We cannot use 'Okay'," Sora shook her head. "We need to emphasize the selling
points."
She began to write: [Master Chef. Ensures your partner is permanently shielded
from the grease and labor of the kitchen.]
Ruby immediately leaned in to provide the finishing touch: [Marry him, and your
hands will only be used to embrace happiness; your palate will only be used to
taste the flavor of love.]
Sora and Ruby shared a perfect high-five.
Mr. Wang was now utterly catatonic. Before entering this office, he felt his
life was a void of darkness. Divorced eight times, suffering from hemorrhoids,
average looks, low income, living in a temporary prefab shack in the
reconstruction zone. With those parameters, he felt he wasn't just unfit for
marriage; he was unfit for a roommate.
But now, looking at his rebranded profile...
The House of Eight Divorces. Emotional Grandmaster. A 'Hemorrhoid-al' Treasure.
Boundless Potential. Top-Tier Chef. Devoted Guardian of Happiness.
He felt like he wasn't here for a blind date; he felt like he was a Tier-12
Elite being scouted for a galactic mission.
"Very well, Mr. Wang." Sora closed the folder, a confident smile on her face.
"Your data has been archived. Within three days, we will filter for the most
compatible high-quality match and arrange a manifestation."
The man stood up, his voice trembling with emotion. "Re-really? Someone like me…
can actually find someone?"
"Rest assured!" Sora, Ruby, and Misty—one human and two Anomalies—simultaneously
gave him a thumbs-up.
"The motto of the Fate-Link Bureau is: Where souls align across a thousand
miles, the thread of fate binds human and ghost alike!"
"Satisfaction guaranteed!"
The man's eyes welled with tears. He bowed repeatedly to the three of them,
offering a thousand thanks before stumbling out the door.
The office door closed behind him.
Kaito finally spoke, his voice low but cutting through the silence like a
clinical audit.
"A success rate of 100%?"
Clack.
The pen in Sora's hand hit the desk. Ruby and Misty froze instantly.
Three sets of eyes snapped toward the doorway. There, they saw the towering
skeleton.
Ruby's reaction was the most visceral. She let out a sharp "Eep!" and launched
herself off her chair, her legs vibrating as if driven by high-speed motors. She
recognized this skeleton instantly. Although he was dressed differently and
wasn't radiating the same crushing majesty, she knew. This was the Being that,
with a mere thought, could have liquidated her entire existence.
Misty's state was even worse. Her vapor began to boil violently, faces switching
between terror and blankness so rapidly she looked like she was about to undergo
a total structural collapse.
"Ma… Ma… Mas..." Ruby's teeth chattered, unable to finish the word.
Only Sora, after the initial shock, widened her eyes in realization. Her gaze
bypassed the skeleton and landed on the familiar blue blob perched on his
shoulder.
"Bochi?!"
"SORA!!!"
A cry saturated with months of suppressed longing and carrot-induced trauma.
Bochi launched himself from Kaito's shoulder like a blue cannonball. He blurred
through the air in a perfect arc and plastered himself directly onto Sora's face
with a wet splat.
☆☆☆
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