Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: 1,900 Years Old!
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1. 1,900 Years Old!
"Let—! Let go of me!"
"Ah, fuuuuck!"
Maybe it's because she's the Elf Queen, but her grip strength is no joke.
No matter how much I shake my leg to shake her off, she shows no sign of letting go.
Figuring I couldn't pry her off with my own strength, I called in Kim Yang, one of our Meracle employees.
"Kim Yang! Get in here!"
"Y-Yes, boss?"
"Drag this thing out! Toss her out of the building!"
"H-Huh? B-Boss! This is a c-client?"
"Not anymore! She's just a senile old lady now!"
"O-Old lady?"
Kim Yang is a beastkin.
She's from the Tower's 5th Floor, and since I brought her over like some foreign laborer, her speech around here is a bit clumsy.
I named her "Kim Yang" because of the sheep horns sprouting from her head and her fluffy white hair.
"Toss her out!"
"O-Out... side?"
"Ahh, so annoyiiing! I hate it! I wanna go to a café with a young guy and eat cake! Order a couple's drink and everything!"
"Agh! Kim Yang, what are you doing?! Don't you want your paycheck? Out—!"
"O-Out! Out—! Outtaa!"
Just like that, Kim Yang charges forward, head lowered like a ram.
'Please, just...'
Suddenly, the fact that Kim Yang's paycheck was three days late flashes through my mind like a montage.
Crash!
"Ahem."
In the end, I couldn't chase off the Elf Queen Reneah. She sits cross-legged on the chair, staring at me.
"I beg you. I've heard Meracle is the top in this industry. They say you never turn away a customer who walks through the door."
A sigh escapes me naturally.
No matter how capable I am as a matchmaker, what am I supposed to do with a 1,900-year-old granny?
"Me-Meracle best? No."
"Kim Yang?!"
A bombshell from Kim Yang, who was pouring me some tea.
I tried to stop her desperately, but it was too late.
The Elf Queen, 1,900 years old but with ears as sharp as ever, didn't miss it.
"Huh? No way? Back on the 4th Floor where I come from, everyone's saying Meracle is the best?"
"4th Floor, no cell phones. 4th Floor, barbarians."
"Barbarians...?"
She looks indignant, but it's not wrong.
Unlike the 3rd Floor Earth, the 4th Floor is a classic medieval fantasy world.
No relays, TVs, or cell phones, so information spreads slowly.
"So. Spread the rumor. Meracle rocks."
"......"
Reneah glares at me, eyes wide.
Now she realizes she's been had.
"No wonder! A two-room office with just one foreign laborer for staff?! Way too shabby for the industry top dog!"
"Ahem, it's not a lie. Compared to the matchmakers on the 4th Floor, we're the best."
"There are no matchmakers on the 4th Floor!"
You really hit the nail on the head!
Damn it.
I've gotta deposit Kim Yang's paycheck in her account ASAP.
She's got a mouth on her when payday's late.
"But one thing, not wrong."
"Not wrong? What's that?"
"Meracle, takes every customer. No exceptions."
Kim Yang slowly backs away.
She bows at a perfect ninety degrees.
"This is Meracle. We find the miracle in your multiverse."
"......B-But. You just tried to kick me out. Called me granny."
"That was boss's tactic. To squeeze more money."
"What?!"
Ah, seriously.
Kim Yang ruined everything.
"Boss's tricks. Fooled fif-fifteen people so far."
Because of her awkward speech, people often mistake Kim Yang for a fool.
But she's not dumb. She's just not fluent in 3rd Floor Earth's language.
"Ha! Unbelievable."
Reneah shoots to her feet.
"Tricking customers? You're con artists! Yeah, I knew there was something shady about your face from the start."
"Can't believe a 1,900-year-old busted out the physiognomy card."
"Argh! Don't think I'll ever come back!"
Slam!
The door slams shut in a huff.
Kim Yang closes her eyes tight.
"Kim Yang, thanks to you, we lost a customer."
I was gonna sweet-talk her into paying up nice, but you blew it.
"B-Boss."
"Yeah?"
"I haven't... gotten paid."
"......"
"I'm not... your employee."
"......"
"Pay me. You... son of a bitch."
The 3rd Floor, Earth, where we live.
The Tower is divided into six floors total.
It might expand further someday, but for now, only up to the 6th Floor is open.
We'll skip the 1st and 2nd for now.
The 4th Floor is a medieval fantasy world called the [Rajesta Continent], home to humans, elves, orcs, dwarves, and the like.
The 5th Floor is the [Old Martial World], full of martial artists, immortals, dragons, and spirit beasts.
The 6th Floor is [Cyber City], where people transplant their brains into machines amid insanely advanced tech.
These four floors absorb each other's strengths and weaknesses, maintaining a symbiotic balance.
By the way, Kim Yang's from the 5th Floor.
Slurp.
Paying Kim Yang's salary means instant noodles from dinner last night through lunch today.
Just as the Elf Queen said yesterday, the office is pretty rundown.
Meracle sounds grand, but it's just a consultation room and an office.
My desk has client lists and files neatly organized, plus an ashtray next to it.
I used to smoke here, but clients hated it, so now it's just gathering dust.
The outdoor one outside is overflowing with butts because emptying it is a hassle.
"B-Boss."
Kim Yang, who only has a chair and no desk, calls out to me while scrolling her phone as usual.
She's an SNS influencer, by the way. Being from the 5th Floor with a cute face, she just posts daily life and followers pour in.
"What."
"Customer... here."
No sooner do the words leave Kim Yang's mouth than the door opens.
And there stands the 1,900-year-old Elf Queen, on the verge of tears.
"N-No one—."
"......"
"No one will take me."
"......"
"They told me at 1,900 years old, I should just tend vegetables under a tree."
Of course they did.
Why would famous outfits like 'Tower Souls' or 'Wedding Company' accept a 1,900-year-old?
Elves get especially harsh judgment in this market.
"Meracle... takes everyone, right? Never turns away a customer who shows up?"
Please say yes.
I place a hand on Reneah's pleading shoulder.
"We'll find your miracle. Welcome to Meracle."
"Ah, aaah—!"
Overwhelmed, she grabs my hand and pours out her heart like a sigh.
"I want... to get married."
"Of course you do. You've shouldered so much as the Elf Queen. In your later years, you should live for yourself, don't you think?"
"Sniff, could I maybe... with a young guy? Ideally one who looks like Cha Woon-woo."
"......Let's start with the consultation."
"Rich would be nice too."
"Consultation first! You're making me wanna kick you out!"
Back in the consultation room.
Consultations are always in-person interviews.
I can communicate verbally with 4th Floor folks, but their writing is gibberish to me.
"Name: Reneah. Race: Elf. Age: 1,901. No home, assets: one bow, parents deceased. No home, and at 1,901, notable history: former Elf Queen?"
"You said my age twice. Mind your manners, it's painful."
"Got it. You know about the grading system, right?"
"Mm, you score my overall existence. Not thrilled, but this queen has confidence."
"Grades from F at the bottom to S at the top. We average sub-grades for an overall rating, then match you with equals."
For example, B-grade only meets A to C-grades.
"Mm! I entrust it to you!"
"Looks: S-grade, assets—."
"This bow is super expensive! Elves go crazy wanting it!"
"......Fine, assets: A-grade."
"Ooh!"
Weapons or armor unearthed from the 4th Floor often fetch apartment prices.
And if the Elf Queen owns it, the value's guaranteed.
"Parents' retirement covered. Job: unemployed. Education?"
"Uh, learned from my parents."
"Homeschooled."
Job and education.
Both E-grade.
"And this is the most important part?"
"Mm! Ask away."
"Can you have kids?"
"......?"
Reneah stares blankly in response.
But I'm dead serious.
"No, who'd marry you if you can't have kids? I don't know when elves hit menopause—."
Reneah leaps up and nocks her bow.
A glow gathers, forming an arrow.
"H-How... How dare you ask that?!"
"No, it's really important!"
"Sh-Shoot! I can have them! Elves don't have menopause!"
Really?
That's kinda wild.
I asked more after that.
Hobbies, smoking and drinking, health, dating history, etc.
"Alright, taking it all into account."
"Mm mm!"
"You're F-grade."
"......"
Reneah's expectant face slowly falls.
"N-No way? I'm pretty!"
"You're 1,900 years old."
"This bow—! The bow's super valuable too."
"You're 1,900 years old."
"I'm a good wife and mother! Wise, and I can devote myself to my husband!"
"You're 1,900 years old."
"......A spinster. Never dated."
"Solo for 1,900 years."
"Should I kill you?"
The glowing arrow starts forming again, so I hurriedly add,
"But—! For someone like you, I've found the perfect match!"
"Oh?"
"From the same 4th Floor! A prince no less! Handsome, and loaded!"
"Ooh?!"
I show her the photo from the file, and Reneah's eyes go wide.
A cool-looking white-haired hunk.
"Not bad! I can really meet this guy?"
"Yes! Of course! It's Velden Kingdom Prince Valentino! We worked super hard to sign him."
"Ooooh! Meracle really is the best!"
"Of course, there's one tiny issue."
"Tiny is fine! Finally, romance with a hot guy—!"
"You'd be wife number 127."
"You fucking bastard."