Chapter 409: Still Great Misfortune
Was her luck regarding the cool guy and her precious angel truly that abysmal? Vermouth stared at the slip of paper, finding the harsh verdict incredibly difficult to accept. If not for the strict parameters of their current infiltration mission and the ever-present risk of drawing unwanted attention, she would have grabbed the wooden cylinder to shake out another fortune right then and there.
"Darling, why don't you draw an omikuji, too?" Vermouth masked her irritation with a flawless, honeyed smile. She gestured gracefully toward the counter, genuinely curious to see what kind of fate awaited her partner.
"Sure." Camus nodded without a second of hesitation. Truth be told, a spark of curiosity had already taken root in his mind. He highly doubted he could possibly be as unlucky as the woman standing beside him. A Great Misfortune was an anomaly. What were the actual statistical odds of pulling something so cursed?
Stepping up to the wooden counter, Camus wrapped his fingers around the polished omikuji container. He gave it a rhythmic shake, the wooden sticks rattling loudly within the hollow chamber. He kept at it a fraction longer than Vermouth had, ensuring a thorough mix before tilting the cylinder forward. A single, slender bamboo stick slid from the narrow opening and hit the counter with a soft clatter.
He picked up the stick, his eyes scanning the cryptic characters carved into the wood. Unable to decipher the traditional script, he slid it across the counter to the waiting shrine maiden. She retrieved a folded slip of paper from the corresponding wooden drawer and offered it to him.
"This is your omikuji. Please keep it safe."
Camus stared at her in silence. 'Is there something wrong with this woman?' he thought. Her behavior was entirely mechanical, practically robotic. She sat perfectly still, her serene smile completely frozen in place, and her vocal delivery lacked any human inflection. She had repeated the exact same phrase to him as she had to Vermouth, down to the very last syllable.
Reaching out to accept the paper slip, he deliberately let his index finger brush against the back of the shrine maiden's hand. A wave of relief washed over him the moment he registered the distinct, living warmth radiating from her skin. She was a real, breathing human being after all.
He released a quiet breath, chiding himself for his own ridiculous paranoia. Given the current state of modern technology, constructing a perfectly lifelike android to hand out fortunes at a mountain shrine was entirely impossible. He blamed Glenlivet. Listening to the man's endless barrage of unscientific, supernatural tales had clearly inflicted a heavy toll on his mental state, twisting his imagination into knots. He was jumping at shadows.
Wrapped up in his internal reassurance, Camus completely failed to notice the sharp, calculating gaze of the woman standing right beside him. Vermouth watched the brief physical contact with an expression of deep distaste. She had never pegged him for a lecher. The fact that he would go out of his way to grope a shrine maiden while operating deep undercover on a critical Black Organization mission was beyond pathetic.
A distinct wave of revulsion curled in her stomach. The sheer proximity to him suddenly felt suffocating. If they were not currently playing the roles of a perfectly normal couple visiting the Grand Narukami Shrine, she would have immediately taken several large steps back to put as much physical distance between them as possible.
Oblivious to his partner's silent judgment, Camus unfolded the crisp paper slip. The moment his eyes landed on the bold black ink, his relaxed demeanor shattered. His jaw tightened, and a dark scowl overtook his features.
Great Misfortune.
What in the world was wrong with the Grand Narukami Shrine? Did they only stock the worst possible outcomes in those wooden drawers?
"What were you thinking about when you drew your fortune?" Vermouth asked, her foul mood instantly lifting at the sight of his misery. If her partner had pulled the exact same terrible result, then perhaps her own cursed slip had absolutely nothing to do with the cool guy or her angel.
"Nothing much," Camus replied, leaning in close to murmur directly into her ear. "Just asking the gods if our mission today would go smoothly."
As he invaded her personal space, Vermouth locked her muscles, forcing herself to suppress the overwhelming urge to violently shove him away. Then, his actual words registered in her brain. The corner of her perfectly painted lips twitched.
The man truly possessed a uniquely idiotic thought process. Standing right in the middle of a sacred shrine and directly asking the resident deity if their covert plan to attack said shrine would succeed was nothing short of a blatant provocation. Frankly, if he had drawn anything other than a Great Misfortune after a stunt like that, she would have seriously questioned the mystical legitimacy of the Grand Narukami Shrine.
"Having drawn a Great Misfortune, it seems our mission today is destined for failure. Well, shall we retreat?" Vermouth arched a delicate eyebrow, casting a highly amused, playful glance in his direction.
"Of course not." Camus scoffed quietly. It was just a piece of paper handed out to tourists; only a fool would actually take it seriously. Still, the coincidence gnawed at him. "Vermouth, what exactly did you ask for just now? It wouldn't happen to be the exact same question as mine, would it?"
"That is a secret," Vermouth whispered back, a mysterious, captivating smile curving her lips.
"Alright. According to standard shrine procedure, those who draw a curse or a Great Misfortune can tie their paper to the hanging rack nearby to ward off the bad luck." Camus dropped the subject immediately. They were simply colleagues, not friends. He lacked the necessary curiosity to pry into the secrets of a woman as dangerous as Vermouth. His focus shifted entirely back to the parameters of their infiltration. "Let's go over there now."
"Mm." Vermouth nodded in agreement.
She felt a brief flash of satisfaction at his tactful retreat. The Black Organization would run far more smoothly if it were populated by operatives like Camus, men who knew exactly when to stop asking questions. It was a refreshing change of pace from dealing with hounds like Bourbon, who possessed an insatiable, irritating need to investigate every single shadow.
The two operatives strolled casually toward the designated wooden racks, blending perfectly into the scattered crowd of tourists and worshippers. Just as they finished twisting their cursed paper slips around the taut strings, a soft, incredibly alluring female voice drifted through the crisp mountain air right behind them.
"Oh my, this is truly rare. Two Great Misfortunes in a row... even for me, it is the first time I have ever witnessed such a thing."
Yae Miko had been taking a leisurely stroll past the courtyard when the sight of the couple caught her sharp eyes. It was already a statistical anomaly for two partners to pull terrible fortunes simultaneously. Pausing her steps, she had subconsciously peeked at the bold black characters printed on the papers they were tying to the rack. Confirming the dual curses, a spark of genuine amusement lit up her violet eyes. Her interest was thoroughly piqued. To be cursed with such abysmal luck in the presence of the Sacred Sakura was a tragedy too entertaining to ignore.
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