100 – Forgiveness and Reconciliation #2
“That ghost sure knows how to throw a curveball. Should I go over there and ask her to change the task?”
It was evening. Melinoë had heard my story and was fuming.
“Of course, Pandora is an incredibly ancient and powerful SSR ghost. She's like a primordial fantasy species from ages past. But if I put in the effort, I could probably...”
In other words, Melinoë planned to tame the married ghost Pandora and make her bend the rules in my favor.
What a horrifying idea!
“Absolutely not. This is my test, so I have to solve it with my own strength. Even if I got back to headquarters with your help, everyone would just laugh at me.”
“Well... you're right about that. More importantly, Jo, what an ordeal you've been through. Sneaking into Security and facing Thanatos? Even a perfect goddess like me would have struggled.”
Melinoë sat on the sofa, inspecting me from head to toe, checking for any injuries. She even pried open my mouth and gasped dramatically.
“Jo, there's only one tongue in your mouth!”
“I've always had just one.”
“I know. Just messing with you.”
Lately, I'd noticed Melinoë had a sneaky craving for comedy. It wasn't funny, but her earnest effort was kinda cute.
Of course, I couldn't voice such blasphemous thoughts, even if I had two tongues.
If I start seeing Melinoë as cute, it's all over for me.
I didn't want to get too attached to anyone in Soul Society. I was just passing through someday. A spark of affection during our contractual romance could turn into shackles dragging me back when I tried to leave.
To deflect and change the subject, I forced out a casual question. “You didn't bring Hell Puppy today?”
“Hell Puppy's attending a new employee seminar. As NEO's direct secretary, it needs to learn various tasks ahead of time.”
“Hell Puppy's a hell fox, right? A proper one?”
“Yep. Precisely, a golden-furred hell fox. Some call it Hell Hatiho, Hell Wafwafwoo, or Hell Ringdingding.”
“No, I mean... what's the point of training a fox that can't even talk?”
“Puhehe, Jo, you say the funniest things. Hell Puppy holds an electrician's license, barista certification, and psychological counseling qualifications—it's a total prodigy. You hired it, so you know better than anyone.”
A fox with that many certifications? I thought she was joking again, but her serious expression said otherwise. This was real.
Hell Puppy, that rascal—not just a scarf, but a legit competent employee? How was that even possible? It had more certs than me!
“Of course, even a talent like Hell Puppy pales next to your brilliance—it's just an ordinary fox by comparison. Hell Puppy admits that too. It even said it wants to chat with you someday about Soul Society's fluctuating stock prices.”
“Melinoë, you're talking about the same Hell Puppy I hired, right?”
“Is there another one you hired besides that kid?”
My eyes bulged. It felt like a dream. Actually, it had felt this way for ages—ever since I started at Happy World. Nothing ever felt real.
“So, Jo, how do you plan to get the antidote?”
“I've got it covered, so don't worry.”
I did have a plan: the ultra-special no-plan strategy. No plan means no failure. Victory was guaranteed.
“To think the ones who commissioned the 'Fantasy Nymph Statue' were the Tartarus rebels! That's why it got censored, huh. Wonder what those rebels plan to do with it...”
The artisans at Pandora Market clicked their tongues in dismay. They weren't thrilled that rebels had snatched their hard work.
“But every cloud has a silver lining! I've completed my lifelong masterpiece—better than that nymph statue. Time to unveil it!”
With a flourish, Pygmalion nodded, and newbie cyclops Sai yanked the curtain aside.
A massive marble statue, several meters tall, loomed into view.
“...That's me?”
It was an exact likeness of me.
“The Jo Statue!”
“Whoa, it shines so bright!”
“This Makenoi helped a ton too...!”
“Yaong...!”
“Our gukbap shop chipped in too. We can say one of Jo's legs came from us.”
The market folk had pooled money to commission my statue. My face burned with embarrassment at the total surprise.
Melinoë, observing from nearby, chimed in. “In time, crowds will gather here to honor the legendary priest Jo's deeds and merits. It looks perfect—like it belonged here from the start.”
“Long live Jo!”
“The market's revival is thanks to Jo!”
This was bad. The higher you climb, the harder you fall. With expectations at their peak, news of my antidote failure and HQ return flop would spread like wildfire.
Is there a faster downfall than a celebrity's?
That's when South Gate's Helen came sprinting from afar, gasping but shouting urgently.
“Dui! Heok! Heok! Iaeoeu!”
“What? You found a lead on the antidote? Excellent! Jo, we heard about Pandora's test for you. We wondered if we could help, and look!”
...What!?
Another total shock. Makenoi piped up.
“A nymph's grudge is tears born from nymphs harboring the deepest resentment...! If there's an antidote for that poison, we nymphs can surely make it...!”
“This Carnoy doesn't get it, but it's fun to cluster and chatter wildly...! Even more fun if we get to beat up a naughty nymph-hater...!”
“To celebrate Honorary Nymph Joinoi's glorious HQ return, let's dance the joyful nymph dance—dat...!”
Dumchit-dumchit. Dumchit-dumchit. Dong-dotto.
“Which nymph's dancing solo to a different beat? So noisy—dat...!”
“Hiek...! This Makenoi loves the rhythm of liberation...!”
In the chaos, I glanced hopefully at Melinoë, wondering if she'd pulled strings.
But she shook her head, reading my mind. “I had nothing to do with this, at least. The market moved on its own. Jo, your efforts weren't in vain.”
Swoosh.
Then the massive cyclops employee Sai approached.
“After extensive market research, I heard there's a master of decoctions here at Pandora Market. At the West Gate health center—Nixdoty the goddess. I listened closely.”
Sai pointed to Zagreus's first wife. Pink twin tails bouncing, Nixdoty raised her hands triumphantly.
“I'm great at boiling and simmering all sorts of things. But even I can't make a Hydra poison antidote! Yet somewhere in this market, there's a master who can!”
In short: A pharmacist skilled enough for Hydra antidote lurked here. Their help could neutralize the “Nymph's Grudge” too.
I had a hunch. Things were going too smoothly—a bad sign. Perfect setup for disaster.
What I needed most? Run!
I bolted, screw it all.
I ended up at the market development HQ's first-floor general store. The market buzzed lately, but “Happy General Store” was always dead—flies everywhere.
Maybe the owner's rudeness?
“Find Jo!”
“Make the antidote and bring it!”
“Waa!”
Hiding inside, I watched a mob surge past like rioters. If they caught me, I'd “succeed” for sure.
Once the noise faded, I sighed in relief.
“Phew, safe.”
“'Safe' my foot. You didn't buy anything, so why enter? I'm busy—don't want to deal with window shoppers.”
A turbaned woman scolded me. No purchase, and she'd toss me out.
I grabbed the first thing in sight: a headband of unknown wildflowers, crown-like.
“How much?”
“100 million gold.”
“That pricey?”
“Yep. Only material in the world that neutralizes the deadliest poison. That's what the mob outside's hunting. Perfect for Jo trying to return to HQ—”
“Heok!”
Unbelievable! The random grab was the worst item possible!
I flinched, dropping it.
“Ah—.”
“Oh...”
It crumbled on the floor like decayed relic, scattering to dust.
I made that mistake!
100 million gold debt? I'd slave away in Soul Society forever—minimum 100 years!
As I panicked, the married owner cackled instead.
“It's fine. The 100 million was a lie. Original cost? Pennies. I was gonna trash it anyway. You destroyed it for me—feels great!”
She laughed heartily, truly relieved. But her hands fidgeted, feet twitching.
Stumbled on antidote material by chance, destroyed it myself, no debt... Luck like this for me?
“Hey, blockhead! That thing you made yesterday—can you whip up another? Girlfriend loved it. Problem is, it wilted fast.”
Called blockhead, Paris glanced outside the bars. The skeleton guard scratched his cheek awkwardly, holding colorful flowers.
“How long will a flower headband last?”
“D-Depending on... how much affection the guard puts in. Better if you make it yourself, but... I've been locked up so long, it's boring...”
Paris, who'd rioted with manager-level hell cockroaches, now made bracelets and headbands from guards' flowers during confinement.
Mistake-prone failure called blockhead, but his floral accessories were hits.
“Look, so pretty. Boyfriend gift!”
“Lucky...”
Soon, floral jewelry boomed among young women. Pandora Market merchants jumped on the trend amid revival.
“Flowers for sale! Fresh ones!”
“Necklaces promise eternal love!”
One man watched it all.
“That flower headband...”