“Let go of this—! I said let go!”
“Ah, pleaseee!”
Whether because she’s the Elf Queen, her grip strength is no joke.
No matter how much I thrash my legs trying to shake her off, there’s no sign of her falling.
It seemed impossible with my strength alone, so I called over Gim Yang, an employee of our Meracle.
“Gim Yang! Get in here!”
“Y-yes, Boss?”
“Drag this away! Throw it outside the building!”
“Huh? B-Boss! Is this a customer?”
“No! Not anymore! It’s a senile old lady!”
“O-old lady?”
Gim Yang is a beastkin.
She’s from the 5th Floor of the Tower; I brought her over on something like a foreign worker visa, so her speech here is a bit clumsy.
Because of the sheep horns sprouting from her head and her fluffy white hair, I named her “Gim Yang.”
“Throw her outside!”
“O-out?”
“Ah, stooop! I don’t want to! How dare you! I was going to go to a café with a young man and eat cake! And order couple’s drinks!”
“Ugh! Gim Yang, what are you doing?! You don’t want your paycheck? Outside—!”
“O-out! Out! Out!”
Gim Yang immediately lowers her head and charges.
‘Ah, please.’
It suddenly flashed through my mind like a slideshow that Gim Yang’s salary was three days overdue.
*Crash!*
* * *
“Ahem.”
The Elf Queen, Renea, whom I had ultimately failed to throw out. She sits cross-legged on the chair and looks this way.
“I’m asking you. I’ve heard Meracle is the best in this industry. They even say you never turn away a customer.”
A sigh escapes me.
No matter how competent a broker I am, what am I supposed to do with a 1,900-year-old granny?
“M-Meracle isn’t the best.”
“Gim Yang?!”
Gim Yang’s bombshell remark while she was serving tea.
I tried to stop her in a hurry, but it was already too late.
Despite being 1,900 years old, the Elf Queen’s ears were sharp, and she didn’t miss it.
“Huh? No way? On the 4th Floor where I was from, rumors say Meracle is the best.”
“4th Floor, no phones. 4th Floor, barbarians.”
“Barbarians…?”
She looks aggrieved, but it isn’t wrong.
Unlike the 3rd Floor, Earth, the 4th Floor is a typical classic medieval fantasy world.
Without relays, TVs, cell phones, and the like, information transfer is limited.
“So spread the rumors. That Meracle is the best.”
“….”
Renea glares with wide eyes.
Only now does she realize she’s been fooled.
“No wonder—! A two-room office with only one foreign worker as staff?! I thought it was far too shoddy to be called the best in the industry!”
“A-ahem. It’s not a lie. Compared to the matchmaking agencies on the 4th Floor, we’re the best.”
“That’s because there are no matchmaking agencies on the 4th Floor!”
You really hit the nail on the head!
Damn it.
I need to deposit Gim Yang’s salary into her account quickly.
Her mouth runs wild when she hasn’t been paid.
“But one thing, I wasn’t wrong.”
“Not wrong? About what?”
“Meracle accepts every customer that comes.”
Gim Yang slowly steps back.
She bows at a perfect 90 degrees.
“This is Meracle. We find your miracle across many worlds.”
“…B-but. I told you to leave. Called you an old lady.”
“That was Boss’s strategy. To get more money.”
“What?!”
Ah, seriously.
Gim Yang ruined everything.
“Boss’s t-tactic. F-fifteen people so far have been f-fooled.”
Because of Gim Yang’s clumsy speech, people often mistakenly think she’s an idiot.
But Gim Yang doesn’t have an intellectual disability. She’s just awkward with the language of Earth, the 3rd Floor.
“Ha! This is really absurd.”
Renea shoots to her feet.
“Deceiving customers? You’re nothing but a con artist? Yes, I had a bad feeling about you the moment I saw your face.”
“Look at you bringing up physiognomy, as if being 1,900 years old wasn’t enough.”
“Ugh! Just you wait, I’ll never come back!”
*Slam!*
The door shuts in irritation.
Gim Yang slowly closes her eyes.
“Gim Yang, thanks to you, we lost a customer.”
I was going to sweet-talk her and squeeze some money out of her, but thanks to you, it’s ruined.
“B-Boss.”
“Yeah?”
“I wasn’t paid.”
“….”
“I’m not an employee.”
“….”
“Pay up, you b-b-bastard.”
* * *
The 3rd Floor where we live, Earth.
The Tower is divided into a total of six floors.
It may go higher, but for now, only up to the 6th Floor is open.
The 1st and 2nd Floors are a separate matter.
The 4th Floor is a medieval fantasy world called the [Rajesta Continent], inhabited by humans, elves, orcs, dwarves, and the like.
The 5th Floor is the [Ancient Murim], where martial artists, transcendents, dragons, and spirit beasts reside.
The 6th Floor is [Cyber City], where people replace their bodies with machines and technology has advanced to an astonishing degree.
These four floors maintained a symbiotic relationship of sorts, absorbing each other’s strengths and weaknesses.
For reference, Gim Yang came from the 5th Floor.
*Slurp.*
Because I paid Gim Yang’s salary, my meals have been instant ramen from last night through today’s lunch.
As the Elf Queen had said, the office was shabby.
I gave it the grand name of Meracle, but at best it’s divided into a consultation room and an office.
On my desk are organized client lists and documents, and an ashtray placed beside them.
I used to smoke here, but clients didn’t like it, so it’s become an unused object.
The ashtray outside is piled high with cigarette butts because I’m too lazy to empty it.
“B-Boss.”
Gim Yang, who has only a chair without a desk, calls out to me while on her phone again today.
For reference, Gim Yang is an SNS influencer.
With her 5th Floor origins and pretty face, she gains followers just by posting daily life.
“What.”
“A customer’s here.”
The door opens the moment Gim Yang finishes speaking.
And.
There stands the 1,900-year-old Elf Queen, sniffling.
“E-everyone—”
“….”
“No one would take me.”
“….”
“They told me to grow vegetables under a tree since I’m 1,900 years old.”
Of course.
Why would famous places in this industry like ‘Taphon’ or ‘Wedding Company’ accept a 1,900-year-old?
Elves are evaluated particularly coldly in this market.
“Meracle… accepts everyone? You said you never turn away a customer?”
Please say yes.
I place my hand on Renea’s shoulder, who is pleading with her entire body.
“We will find your miracle. Welcome to Meracle.”
“A-ah!”
Moved, she grabs my hand and pours out her words like a sigh.
“I want… to get married.”
“Ahem, of course you should. You’ve borne many burdens as the Elf Queen. Shouldn’t you live for yourself in your later years?”
“*Sniff*, is it possible with a young man? If possible, someone who looks like Cha Unwoo.”
“…Let’s start with the consultation first.”
“I hope he has a lot of money too.”
“I said let’s start with the consultation! You’re making me want to kick you out!”
* * *
Back in the consultation room.
Consultations are conducted exclusively through face-to-face interviews.
I can communicate with people from the 4th Floor, but I can’t read their writing.
“Name: Renea. Race: Elf. Age: 1,901. No house. Assets: one bow. Both parents deceased. No house, and at 1,901, any special notes… former Elf Queen?”
“You just said my age twice. Mind your words, for it hurts.”
“Yes, well. You know we proceed with a ranking system, right?”
“Hm, so you give an overall score to my existence. It is not so pleasant, but this lady has confidence.”
“In the rank system, F is the lowest and S is the highest. We calculate an overall rank by averaging the sub-ranks. Then you get matched with people of a corresponding rank.”
For example, a B-rank meets people around A to C rank.
“Hm! I leave it to you!”
“First, looks: S-rank. Assets—”
“This bow is really expensive! Elves go crazy wanting to have this!”
“…Well, sure. Assets: A-rank.”
“Ooh!”
In fact, weapons and armor excavated from the 4th Floor often cost as much as an apartment.
And if it’s owned by the Elf Queen, its value is guaranteed.
“No need to worry about parental retirement. Occupation: unemployed. Education?”
“Uh, I learned from my parents.”
“Homeschooled.”
Occupation and education.
Both are E-rank.
“And this is the most important thing.”
“Hm! Ask me anything.”
“Can you have children?”
“…?”
Renea responds with a blank expression.
But I’m serious.
“I mean, who would take you if you can’t have kids? I don’t know when elves hit menopause—”
Renea stands up and immediately aims her bow.
Light bursts forth and takes the form of an arrow.
“H-h-h-how dare you—! How dare you ask such a thing of anyone!”
“What?! This is really important!”
“Y-ye! Y-yes! I can! Elves don’t have menopause!”
Really?
That’s kind of amazing.
I asked various other things after that too.
Hobbies, smoking and drinking, health status, number of relationships, etc.
“Now, considering everything overall.”
“Mhm!”
“You’re F-rank.”
“….”
Renea’s highly expectant expression gradually droops.
“W-why? I’m pretty, aren’t I?”
“Because you’re 1,900 years old.”
“This bow too—! It’s a really precious bow.”
“Because you’re 1,900 years old.”
“I’m a wise wife and good mother! I’m wise, and I’m confident I would only look at my husband!”
“Because you’re 1,900 years old.”
“…I’m a spinster. I’ve never even dated.”
“You’ve been single since birth for 1,900 years.”
“Shall I kill you?”
As the light arrow threatens to reappear, I quickly add.
“But—! I’ve found the perfect person for someone like you!”
“Oh?”
“Also from the 4th Floor! A prince, no less! Plus handsome looks! Overflowing wealth!”
“Ooh?!”
Renea’s eyes go wide when I show her the photo clipped in the file.
A chic-looking silver-haired handsome man.
“He’s not bad?! Can I really meet this man?”
“Yes! Of course! This is Prince Valentino of the Belden Kingdom! We had a very hard time getting a contract with him.”
“Ooh! As expected of Meracle! The best indeed!”
“Of course, there is a very minor issue.”
“If it’s minor, it’s fine! Finally, I’ll date a handsome man—!”
“You’ll be approximately the 127th wife.”
“Hey, you fucking bastard.”