Chapter 10
Matchmaking Mystery
The gentle hum of conversation intertwined with the distant melody of a string quartet, creating a lighthearted yet elegant atmosphere. Laughter and whispered exchanges filled the air as couples-in-the-making engaged in carefree courtship, unfazed by the curious glances of onlookers. Unlike the stiff, business-like formalities of aristocratic marriage meetings held in grand manor halls, the Matchmaking Guild embraced a far more inviting approach—one that encouraged natural interactions without the weight of rigid expectations.
This place was designed for those who rejected the traditional process, for men and women who sought the freedom to find their own partners at their own pace. It was a space free from family negotiations and political maneuvering, where personal choice reigned over duty. While aristocrats, who’re still bound by the old customs, rarely stepped foot inside, the Guild was far from lacking in high-profile clients. The wealthy bourgeoisie, learned intellectuals, and even esteemed servicemen were among those who sought companionship on their own terms.
------
“Guest Number 48, this is your cue.”
------
I glanced at the number on my ticket before rising from my seat. Just as I approached the receptionist’s desk, preparing to be led to my appointment, a new voice intercepted.
“Are you Lady Sherlin Hound?”
I turned to find a refined-looking woman standing before me, her sharp gaze assessing me with a polite, knowing smile. Unlike the receptionists, whose uniforms were simple, her attire held an air of authority—signifying her higher position within the establishment.
“Yes?”
“My name is Belle Marigold—I am the Guildmaster here. Would you mind following me to my office?”
“Huh!? Did I do something wrong? Don’t tell me aristocrats are banned here!”
Marigold chuckled, shaking her head. “Of course not. How could we possibly turn away customers with such generous pockets? I simply wish to handle your paperwork personally. No need to worry.”
“Uh… Alright then.” I gave a small nod. “Please lead the way.”
Inside the Guildmaster’s office, Marigold gestured for me to take a seat before settling comfortably behind her polished mahogany desk. The room was tastefully decorated—not overly extravagant, but refined, much like the woman herself.
She folded her hands together and leaned forward slightly. “So, you’re interested in finding a partner?”
“Well, yes. That’s exactly why I came to the Matchmaking Guild.”
“But what kind of partner do you desire?”
I paused for a moment. “I’m not entirely sure… someone intelligent, brave, and dependable, perhaps?”
Marigold let out a soft hum, tilting her head. “No, I think my question was a bit too vague. What I mean to ask is—what exactly is your purpose in finding a partner?”
I blinked. “Wait… what do you mean?”
“Noble ladies are rare customers of ours,” Marigold continued. “And they often have unique preferences. These clients usually come through the recommendation of our inner circle.”
“You say… inner circle?” I raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
“Yes, in your case, isn’t it obvious? It’s our ‘VVIP’ client, Madam Hudson.”
“Hudson is VVIP!? What on earth are people doing here!?”
“There are many specific purposes, my Lady. Some come to find a part-time escort for a single ball, others hire a rental husband for a short period, or simply seek someone who shares the same level of sin. As for Madam Hudson, she’s not only a regular customer—she’s practically a prime commodity for our Guild. Many male clients have a special ‘Governess-fetish’ like her, and she has no problem making multiple relationships at once.”
Oh, that’s interesting…
But, “What do you mean multiple relationships!?”
Marigold nodded with a knowing look. “Multiple relationships mean multiple relationships, Lady Hound. She might not have told you before, but Madam Hudson enjoys the variety.” Marigold leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. “Now, Lady Hound, what exactly are you looking for?”
“Listen,” I signed. “I have no intention of getting involved in something so… weird. But if your organization is so special, can you help me find someone who could serve as an ‘Investigative Partner,’ while posing as my suitor? I am ready to pay that person if I must.”
“Investigative… Partner?” Marigold looked genuinely intrigued. “That’s a new request. But with an additional fee, I can assure you there’s nothing we can’t do.”
“That isn’t a problem,” I reached into my pocket and pressed 50 gold coins onto the table, sliding them toward her. “This is upfront. I’ll pay more, including expenses for using the facility here.”
Marigold’s lips curled into a small, approving smile as she eyed the money. “You truly are a woman of business, Lady Hound. Very well. Here are the terms of service and guidelines for you to study, and this is the registration form—please fill in your personal information while I make the necessary arrangements.”
I unfolded the stack of papers and began skimming, starting with the terms of service.
By entering into this agreement and utilizing the services provided by the Matchmaking Guild, the client must agree to adhere to all policies and guidelines... blah, blah, blah… The Guild is committed to facilitating discreet, respectful, and personalized matchmaking services tailored to your needs… blah, blah…
You know what? This was too boring.
Let’s just skip to the real practical guidelines.
------
The first section covered the Registration Process.
Obviously, just filling out paperwork—exactly what I was doing at that moment. The form required personal details and preferences, but it also asked me to create a pseudonym for my public profile.
The second section explained the Matching Process.
Once my profile was posted on the board, potential matches could express interest. If both parties showed mutual interest, the Guild would act as an intermediary to arrange an appointment. Personal details wouldn’t be revealed until both sides consented—only stated preferences would be visible to tune compatibility.
Then came the third section, the Blind Confession.
Before progressing to a formal meeting, the Guild encouraged an anonymous conversation—a trial round, so to speak. This would take place in the Confession Booth, which, judging from the illustration, looked exactly like an actual church confessional, where sinners spill their darkest secrets!
Finally, the last section was called the Nurturing Process.
But honestly, from what I read, it felt more like an advertisement for the Guild’s premium services and exclusive facilities...
------
“Lady Hound, have you finished your form?”
“Yes,” I replied, setting down the quill. “By the way, how long does it usually take for your clients to receive a response?”
“For most cases, it takes days, perhaps even weeks. But for you, my Lady, it was instant!”
“Hm!? Instant!?” My brow arched in suspicion.
“Yes, my Lady! The moment I mentioned someone was looking for an ‘Investigative Partner,’ one of our VVIP clients became immediately interested. He found the idea... quite fun!”
‘Fun.’ That word again.
Let’s hope it wasn’t the same fun Hudson used on last night.
“Well,” I crossed my arms, “can you tell me anything about him?”
“I can provide you with his profile, my Lady, but beyond that, I am bound by the Guild’s policy.”
“Hey, aren’t you the Guildmaster?” I frowned. “And I already paid you 50 gold coins—I’m even willing to pay more! Surely, that should warrant a little... giveaway?”
Marigold smiled but remained unfazed. “No, my Lady. Because I am the Guildmaster, I must uphold the policy. However, I can tell you this—he is intelligent, brave, and dependable. Exactly the specifications you provided.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
She dragged me outside the office before gesturing toward the confession booth. “Trust me. When you step inside, you’ll have the chance to interview him yourself.”
I took a deep breath and walked into the curtain. The interior was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from an ornate brass lantern hanging overhead. A cushioned seat awaited me, separated by a wooden lattice screen. The other side of the booth was silent, but I could sense someone’s presence—waiting.
Well, time to see who this ‘Intelligent, Brave, and Dependable’ candidate was.
------
“You are Lady Malus?” the man behind the other side of the lattice inquired.
“And you must be Sir Calculus?” I replied, sitting on my seat.
“Yes, I am that person. Now, tell me, my Lady, are you a sinner? Do you have anything to confess?”
I let out a soft chuckle. “That’s very funny, Sir Calculus. Tell me, sir, are priests even allowed to join matchmaking?”
“If one doesn’t tell anyone he is a priest, then it might be possible.”
“I see,” I mused, tapping my fingers against the chair’s armrest. “But judging from your pseudonym and profile, you seem more like a mathematician than a clergyman.”
“Not quite, Lady Malus. I am not yet qualified for that title. I still study at the Imperial Academy and haven’t obtained my certification—but I use my knowledge to make money through part-time work.”
“Part-time work while studying? You must be quite diligent.”
“What choice do I have, my Lady? Education requires money, and I wasn’t born with a silver spoon. Still, diligence is not my core value… What I believe in is intelligence. I have no desire to work myself to the bone and get nowhere.”
“A practical mindset.” I nodded. “But is that why you responded to my request for an ‘Investigative Partner’? Do you need additional income?”
“Oh, not at all! As I said, I value intelligence more than diligence, so my part-time work provides passive income. You could say I’m an investor. My mathematical knowledge helps me predict financial trends, and all I need to do is collect my profits. I don’t prefer active work—unless I want to.”
“Then, sir, what do you expect to gain from becoming my ‘Investigative Partner,’ if not money?”
“Must I have a reason beyond simply seeking fun?”
“Perhaps a thirst for challenge, a sense of duty… or maybe, if you’ve lost something precious to crime, even vengeance?”
“A thirst for challenge… perhaps. But isn’t that just another way to describe ‘Fun’? As for duty, absolutely not.” He paused. “And vengeance? Can a person truly take revenge against crime itself?”
I arched my brow. “Why did you say that?”
“Crime is not an entity, Lady Malus. You cannot stab it in the heart or throw it behind bars. So, tell me, how does one take revenge against the crime?”
“Well,” I mused, “I once read the story of a masked hero—a wealthy young man who lost his parents to a common mugger. That one random act stole his childhood away. But instead of wallowing in grief, he dedicated his life to training, reaching the peak of human ability. He invested his fortune into gadgets, all for one purpose—to become a fearsome knight who could stop and avenge the crime that took his family.”
“That’s an impressive backstory for a fictional hero,” Sir Calculus admitted. “But let’s consider this logically. Just because a single mugger kills his parents, he responds by beating down every criminal he finds? If such a man existed in real life, wouldn’t he simply be a man with anger issues?”
“Fair point. But at least he doesn’t kill.”
“There’s no action scene without injury,” he countered smoothly. “So even if he doesn’t kill, how severely did he beat others down just because they happened to be muggers?”
“Oh, uh, about that…” I hesitated.
Now, thinking about it, the protagonist had really left plenty of criminals with fractured ribs, broken bones, and head trauma.
“Okay, maybe he’s a little excessive. But he does have character development! Over time, he learns to control himself—even sympathizes with some villains who have their own justifications. Eventually, he realizes he doesn’t truly seek vengeance—he seeks justice. That’s the moment he transitions from a vigilante to a true hero.”
“Sympathizing with villains?” he mused. “Do you think that’s appropriate for an investigator?”
“Yes, before being a decent detective, one must be human, first.”
“But Lady Malus, true Lady Justice must be blind—absolutely impartial, with no tolerance for any evil.”
“With ethics that strict, life must be hard for her,” I said lightly. “But fortunately, I am not Lady Justice.”
“So, you’re fine if your ‘Investigative Partner’ is a ‘Bad Person’?”
“Sir Calculus, it seems you’re the one who should be making a confession!” I chuckled. “But yes, I’m fine with ‘Badness’—as long as it stays within my acceptable range.”
“I see. But how would you study my ‘Badness’?”
“Sir Calculus, could you please clarify?”
“‘Badness’ is like a hideous scar concealed beneath fine fabric. It’s impossible to reveal in a mere blind conversation.”
“Then let me treat you like a book.”
“A book?”
“I won’t judge you by your cover, I’ll read it. At least, the synopsis first.”
“Hm…” He let out a thoughtful hum. “It seems you’re willing to accept me as your ‘Investigative Partner.’”
“Hold on, sir. This whole conversation feels like a free-trial. I must admit, you’ve made me curious. So, I’d like to give you a chance—if you agree to meet me face-to-face.”
“Lady Malus, you speak as if you hold the upper hand in this deal,” he remarked. “But did you not notice? This lattice has two layers separating us—one controlled by me, the other by you. If I pull the switch but you don’t, your lattice will remain closed. The same applies if you pull yours while I do not. To reveal our faces, we must both agree. That means I’m not the only one who must prove myself—you must as well.”
“That seems fair. But what more do you want?”
“A few more words—through my own little interview. Answer honestly.”
“Very well, ask away.” I leaned back in my seat.
“Between coffee and tea, what do you prefer?”
“Tea,” I answered easily. “But if you’re asking about my best caffeine source—chocolate.”
“What is your favorite pet?”
Obviously, “Cats!”
“What activity do you enjoy most?”
“Well… books.”
If I still had games, anime, and films as options, I might’ve chosen one of those.
“Hm. How odd for a detective not to choose puzzles.”
“Eh?” I blinked. “What did you say?”
“Oh, nothing. Please Ignore that,” he said quickly. “You’re a woman, but can you read and write?”
“Excuse me? How could I enjoy books if I couldn’t read and write?”
“Between reading and writing, which do you prefer?”
“Writing.”
“Wait, writing?”
“Yes. I’ve written a few novels.”
Surprised?
Allow me to explain: the novel trends in this world are different from where I come from. So how else could I get the stories I want, if not by writing them myself?
“What kind of novels, may I ask?”
“Mostly romance and fantasy.”
“I see. You must have a deep passion for books.” He paused before asking, “Then tell me—if life were a novel, what role would you play? The protagonist or the villain?”
“The damsel.”
“...Why!?”
“Because the villain is obviously bad,” I grinned. “And the protagonist carries too much responsibility. If I were the damsel, then if anything went wrong, it wouldn’t be my fault. My only job would be to forgive the villain and not blame the protagonist. That sounds like the ideal role in life—to do nothing at all.”
“That is… a unique perspective,” he admitted. “But isn’t a detective supposed to have the spirit of a protagonist?”
I exhaled, the humor fading slightly. “You’re right. And that’s what troubles me.”
“Troubles you? How so?”
“Honestly? I don’t want to be the protagonist. But let’s just say… I have a blessing. One that’s hard to ignore. If I could find another protagonist to transfer it to, I’d gladly do so.”
“Even if that reduces you to a mere helpless damsel?”
“Is that wrong?”
“Yes, it’s very, very wrong,” he answered firmly. “Because in reality, a person like that is easy to exploit. They get locked in towers, auctioned like cattle, or even discarded when they’re no longer useful.”
“But if this world is really a story like you say, then I can rely on the Protagonist. It’s his duty to protect his Damsel!”
“Are you sure? I might not spend time reading novels like you, but I’ve heard that Protagonists have a ‘Righteous Trend.’ They’re always ready to sacrifice everything for the greater good! Do you really think they’re reliable enough not to sacrifice you?”
“Well then,” I mused, “should I seek help from a villain?”
“Didn’t you say villains are bad?”
“Perhaps. But some villains can become heroes… if they have the right damsel.”
“Sorry, that sounds too much like fantasy. That might work in a novel, but from what I’ve heard about your trouble, you need something more practical. How about a ‘Secondary Protagonist’? Someone who might not carry the same blessing, but still carries responsibility.”
“So… are you suggesting yourself to be my ‘Secondary Protagonist,’ hm?”
“Isn’t that your purpose when you walked into this confession booth?”
“Does this mean I’ve proven myself? That I’m worth your interest?”
“Want to know the answer? Why don’t you try to pull the switch?”
I hesitated for a moment, my fingers hovering over the cold metal lever. Then, taking a slow breath, I pulled.
Click…
The lattice shifted, its iron framework groaning. But then, I realized—only my side was moving.
The other lattice had already been open from the start. That could only mean one thing: I was the only one who hadn’t pulled the switch.
------
“Y—You!”
------
A presence, thick and suffocating, seeped into the air like a silent storm rolling in. The temperature plummeted, the warmth around me bleeding away. Even the single lamplight flickered, struggling to stay alight as shadows stretched unnaturally.
The Death Scent flooded the narrow space.
It was overwhelming, pressing in from all sides—a silent, oppressive force that clung to the very air I breathed.
‘Sir Calculus’ is John!
He was the one I had been speaking with all along!
“Oh, Sherlin, what a surprise to see you here!” That jerk greeted me with a grin. “What a twist of fate, bringing us together in such a place.”
