Work, Mayuri [Ririri Detective Agency Work Conditions]

10:42 AM.

I took a taxi to work.

"Ugh, no motivation at all today."

Maybe because it had only been about an hour since I woke up. Come to think of it, I hadn't even had breakfast yet. It was almost 11, so an early lunch sounded good. Time for delivery.

"Ari, what do you want to eat?"

"Jajangmyeon."

"Lisa, anything you wanna try?"

"I'd love to try tteokbokki. I'm curious what level 5 spiciness feels like."

"...Your enthusiasm is admirable. But don't push yourself too hard."

I was craving a burger for some reason. Since everyone wanted different things, we ended up ordering from three different places.

Hmm. Nothing to do until the food arrives. Still no motivation. I flopped onto the sofa and started playing a mobile game.

When the delivery came, Ari scampered over and brought back the food. The girl who used to just mooch off meals had learned to fetch them herself. A monumental step forward.

A week since registering the business and opening the office. I'd escaped unemployment and was getting used to self-employment life. Work wasn't easy, of course, but just the act of commuting felt inspiring every day.

The codex had registered five monsters already. Just two more, and I'd unlock the second reward. The first one, the Storage Closet, had been super useful. I was pretty excited about what the next one would be.

I'd thought living as a cute girl would be exhausting at first, but it wasn't so bad once I got into it.

Just one problem, though.

"No customers again today."

Lisa muttered while cleaning the floor.

Hmm.

"Yeah... this isn't sustainable, is it?"

A week since the official opening. Zero visitors today, too.

Devastation (Rubedo) Rank 6 monsters were powerful enough to wipe out nations, but encounters were rare. To face one, you needed reputation and track record.

For example, the Special Task Force only granted access to Rank 6 threats to deputy director level and above. Regular agents didn't even know they existed.

No different for a self-employed solver like me.

Suppose the Task Force decided to go all-out against a Rank 6. Would they call me? Probably only if I was the "world's top solver." In other words, I needed that level of fame and results to even get near one.

And in the past week? Zero requests.

"...I became self-employed to see the true ending."

At this rate, forget true ending—I'd get the beggar ending. The universe's cutest girl Mayuri blew her rent money and lived as a flower beggar. Namu Amida Butsu...

Of course, I couldn't die a cute beggar girl. Self-diagnosing, I realized something huge.

I'd opened the office... but done zero promotion!

'...Can't be helped, though.'

Running a monster specialist agency when the government was hiding monsters from the public? No way to advertise openly.

Try "Monster Specialist Solver!" and the Task Force would come knocking. Accusing me of spreading secrets. Worst case, they'd revoke my hard-earned business registration.

"This won't do..."

I immediately placed an online order.

The next day,

"Mayuri, there's a box outside the door."

Lisa brought in the package. Faster than expected.

Inside: a laptop.

I set it up on the desk and downloaded a game.

Launching it greeted me with low-res 3D graphics. Rare these days. Most games poured effort into high-quality models.

But I couldn't demand that from this relic. 10? 15 years old?

Anyway, created a character and headed to the newbie village square. A general store NPC welcomed me.

...Already felt off.

Bought some firewood.

Used the skill to light a campfire near the store. Then climbed to the rooftop, jumped down.

Whoosh—thud! Fall damage! HP critically low. Not lethal, though.

Rubbed against the campfire. Character caught fire.

Confirmed the burn, then went back inside and talked to Hans.

—Fwoosh!

Character collapsed in front of Hans. Fall damage had halved HP; burn DoT finished it.

Hit respawn. Back at the store—door locked.

"Ugh..."

I mashed the interact button on the door anyway.

—Click clack!

Sound of twisting the locked knob. Looked psycho, probably. But necessary.

Monsters and anomalies in the game had inspirations. King of Flies? Beelzebub. Carnival Chef? Fearful Napolitan or cannibal myths. One Person Factory Manager? Organ trafficking. Human Shelter? Paradise Lost?

This one? Game urban legend.

Click. Door opened.

Air shifted. Laptop gone. No office view. No Ari or Lisa.

Dim lights. Underground mall. Stale, unventilated air.

Stores open, but filled with polygonal humanoids, not people.

"Eek..."

I gulped. No voices—just speech bubbles like a comic. Stuck on "Welcome!" Ghostly vibe.

Closed Mall. Creepy entry, eerie atmosphere... but,

"N-not dangerous or anything..."

Muttering that, I wandered.

"Hic!"

Expressionless NPC approached. No animations—just head turn. Spooky. Please don't look.

Glanced at wares: nailed cross, giant non-human eyeball, pistol... Cursed items. Mostly deadly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to humans, but sometimes sanity-protecting gear. Why game players visit a few times.

Not just players, either.

"Heard they sold a monkey's paw here once."

"Yeah, too pricey back then."

"Shame. Worth studying."

"Right? Graft it on an amputee?"

"Or a monkey?"

"Ooh, fun idea."

White-coated folks chatting by a store. Foundation employees. They frequented here—their goal: explain all monsters.

Not just them. Task Force agents, cult zealots, indie solvers like me. Hostile factions mingled, but violence banned. Pure shopping spot.

"...Gotta hit the corner."

I slipped to an inconspicuous spot. Not here to buy. Crowded with folks, so...

Surely someone to promote my agency to?

And so, I hunkered down in the Closed Mall.

Three days passed.