Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: 7. The Customer's Taste is a Secret!
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“We'll skip the interview since we already did it last time.”
I pull out Reneah's interview record, which I'd stashed away in the corner.
Her age of 1,901 still jumps out overwhelmingly.
“Meracle offers three membership tiers in total: Basic, Standard, and Premium.”
Reneah listens while flipping through the catalog handed to her by Kim Yang.
“The differences start with the number of matches, then manager consultations, in-person chats, studio photoshoots and styling, breakup consulting, and so on. Services get added sequentially, with quality improving each step up.”
“Breakup consulting?”
She seems to think it's out of left field.
Surprisingly, breakup consulting is the most effective form of dating coaching.
“It's rare for people to connect after just one meeting. We listen to why a client didn't click with someone and help fix those shortcomings—that's breakup consulting.”
“Ooooh.”
Of course, it probably wouldn't do much for Reneah.
Nine times out of ten, she'd get rejected over her age.
“It's way more systematic than I thought.”
“Of course—we're professionals. So, shall we go ahead with Premium right away?”
“Ahem, jumping straight to the most expensive one...”
I'm tempted to kick her out.
“You got 200 million, and you're haggling—?”
“Ah, about that—I need to explain! My take-home was halved by taxes, so I only got 100 million!”
“What? How?”
“They said since I'm from the 4th Floor, no hunter license, and only recently down on the 3rd Floor Earth, all these taxes piled on and took half! They say the 3rd Floor is full of thieves, but I never thought I'd get hit like this—!”
The elf queen clenches her fist in fury, eyes misty with rage.
“So I need to save money.”
“Premium is only 5 million won anyway.”
“5 million won?!”
“Tower unions or Wedding Company charge up to 10 million for their top tiers, and Royal Matching folks ask 20 million? This is a steal.”
“N-No way. For just introducing people—?”
“Hey now, not just any people. We're talking lifelong partners here.”
Still, Reneah's expression stays gloomy.
Sigh, no helping it.
“Does it feel like a loss?”
“A-A little...? No guarantee it'll work—”
Her fingers fidget.
I lean in and whisper the dark truth to her.
“Do you think we'd introduce just anyone to Premium members? We hook you up with the big spenders.”
*Twitch!*
Her elf ears perk up.
“Marry one of them? 5 million? Pfft, pocket change. Plenty of our clients laugh at seven-figure salaries.”
“R-Really?”
“Lee Kangho from last time. Variable income, but he's pulled nine figures in peak season.”
“...!?”
She's shocked that Lee Kangho, who was way weaker than her, makes that much.
But in hunting, skill doesn't always mean big bucks.
Top hunters can earn peanuts, and vice versa.
Strictly speaking, Lee Kangho was the latter.
A guy who rakes in cash disproportionate to his strength.
“You've waited 1,901 years for marriage. Shouldn't you snag a flashy guy?”
“G-Good point! Premium it is!”
“Got it! Kim Yang, bring the Premium contract!”
“Here.”
Quick processing.
Kim Yang's sharp.
Watching Reneah scribble away earnestly, I get why scammers target the elderly.
“Oh, right! I had an idea.”
She pauses mid-signature and lowers her voice.
“My age is a bit of an issue, isn't it?”
“A bit? It's a huge problem.”
“Hmph! Anyway, I figured out how to fix it.”
“A solution?”
A wicked grin that doesn't suit an elf at all.
“Lie about my age.”
“You get sued if caught.”
Unbelievable.
Age is huge in the marriage market.
Especially guys—plenty won't touch older women.
But Reneah knew that much and bangs the desk.
Thud thud!
“I know! But think about it—it's not that risky.”
“...”
“My looks first off. Even if I say human mid-20s, they'd buy it. You did.”
Well.
Can't argue there.
Elves' timeless beauty doesn't fade.
That's why I fell for the 20s claim at first sight.
“Fool 'em into marriage first. Then just live happily ever after.”
“You've got a plan, huh.”
“I'm an elf—that's the plan. I'll outlive my husband anyway, looking like this forever?”
“...”
“So to him, am I really younger or older?!”
What kind of person is this?
“Are all elves closet psychopaths?”
“Call it desperation!”
I dodge with an awkward cough and press on.
“Not saying outright lies are okay. But if you don't volunteer it, no one catches the fib.”
“...”
That shuts me up.
I got fooled, after all.
“B-Boss, you really had no clue?”
“Nope.”
“Impressive, sniffing out an elf.”
Reneah shrugs smugly.
But Kim Yang doesn't let it slide as a compliment.
“B-Boss sees through all lies.”
“What, a superpower?”
“No! It's like... killer instinct? You always nail it!”
She's right.
One of my few strengths is a nose for lies.
“You ended up exposing the 1,901-year-old granny anyway.”
Hey, I nailed that arrest—my nose still works.
“Ahem, fine, you're sharp. But not everyone's like that. If I fudge the age—”
“B-Boss. Trash.”
Reneah flinches at Kim Yang's words as she heads out for recycling.
Door shuts; Reneah sighs in relief.
“Phew, thought she meant me.”
“Good that you know you're trash.”
“Ahem.”
The talk goes nowhere after that.
“No, the company can't condone fraud—we'd be accomplices!”
“If a 20-year-old elf and 1,901-year-old elf look the same, isn't she basically 20?!”
“Customer, want a smackdown? Trying to tank our business?!”
Rattle.
“Boss, customer’s here.”
Kim Yang returns from trash duty with a guest in tow.
I and Reneah instantly drop the argument and smile.
Mine for the client; hers for the handsome guy.
“We'll find your miracle. Welcome to Meracle.”
“Hello. I stopped by yesterday, but you weren't in, so I came back today.”
The 'Tower inter-floor guide' Kim Yang mentioned at the pig feet dinner.
“Let's head to the consultation room.”
“Ah, isn't there someone ahead?”
Reneah ducks her head shyly as he points her out.
“D-Don't talk to me like that. I'm fresh out of the forest, just 20, not used to eye contact with guys.”
“Oh? S-Sorry!”
Ah, that concept?
True veteran move.
Chameleon switch right into character.
Thought she was a lizardman, not elf.
“Ignore her and come in.”
“Oh my, such harsh words hurt my heart. Still 20, I bruise easy from rough talk... but I've got a sturdy spirit to bounce back strong.”
This psycho's building her portfolio.
I usher the client in first, flipping her off behind his back.
She fires back with double birds.
Click.
“Ahem. Let's start with the basics.”
“Uh, no payment or signup yet—is that okay?”
I flash capitalism's warmest grin at the naive guy.
“No worries. Consult, try a free match. Join if it feels right.”
“That generous?”
“Yep. Special service for handsome clients like you.”
No joke—dead serious.
Lee Kangho and Yumia got this too.
Hot clients draw crowds to marriage agencies.
1,901 granny? Never.
Questionnaire and pen in hand, interview begins.
“Name?”
“Lee Cheol-su.”
“Age?”
“27.”
“Young! Early for a guy at 27, but a plus in this market.”
[Looks: A]
“Heard you're a guide. Details?”
“People coming down from 4th or 5th Floors to Seoul on 3rd Floor Earth? I guide them around Seoul.”
“Income?”
“About 3 million won a month.”
Solid.
3 mil at 27 is fine.
“Oh, plus incentives. Like affiliate commissions if clients buy from partners.”
“Nice. Savings?”
“Bank account's at 3.1 billion.”
“3.1... billion?”
What?
“3.1 billion? Guiding since age 3?”
Wealth defies logic.
Flustered, Lee Cheol-su confesses sheepishly.
“Truth is... my parents are loaded. Own a few buildings in Gangnam.”
“You could pick anyone—no need for us.”
Why's this guy here?
At my reaction, he leans in, voice low.
“Honestly, I have a taste. Thought Meracle could deliver.”
“Taste? Spill—no judgments here.”
Capitalism smile redux.
Prime stock client—lock him down.
Relaxed now, he explains.
“I-I like 5th Floor natives.”
“5th Floor Old Martial World? Makes sense—they're conservative, date to marry—”
“Beastkin are my type.”
“Beastkin, got it. Not weird at all.”
Beastkin prefs are common here.
Girls: cat, bunny, fox.
Guys: tiger, ox, wolf.
About to cite our Kim Yang, sheep beastkin—but
A faint wrongness hits.
His face neutral, but the vibe's off from that exchange.
That's my 'lie detector' kicking in.
Time to probe.
“Ahem, Lee Cheol-su.”
“Yes?”
“Be straight. Any beastkin?”
His eyes dart, cornered vibe—like he'll bolt.
I pull my phone, show Pokemon from Pocket Monsters.
My guess from beastkin hint.
“This the vibe?”
Nailed it.
He wipes brow sweat, beams.
“Yes! Exactly! A-As expected of Meracle!”
“Haha, not uncommon.”
“Really?! Yeah!”
Uncommon as hell, you freak.
“Four legs if possible—!”
Anyway, suspiciously rich folks are always...