Both Eridius and Alexander stared silently at the Fixer sitting across from them.
The man held a chipped coffee cup in both hands, his expression completely blank as he took another slow sip.
Then—
[Fixer]: …This coffee is dangerously good.
A pause.
He lowered the cup slightly, eyes narrowing.
[Fixer]: Be honest with me. Is this human-based, artificial, or some Wing-made luxury product?
Another sip.
Then, more quietly—
[Fixer]: Because if it's Wing coffee, I genuinely cannot afford to become emotionally attached to it.
Eridius and Alexander exchanged a brief glance.
Then both nodded at the same time.
[Eridius]: It's real.
[Alexander]: Completely organic.
Silence.
The Fixer stared at them.
Then at the cup.
Then back at them again.
A long pause followed.
He pointed slowly toward the drink.
[Fixer]: Real organic coffee only exists inside Nest districts or Wing-controlled facilities.
Another sip.
His face somehow became even more serious.
[Fixer]: The stuff sold in the Backstreets is usually thirty percent artificial powder, fifty percent chemical stimulants, and twenty percent legally questionable sludge.
Eridius blinked once.
[Eridius]: …That explains a lot, actually.
The Fixer ignored him completely.
[Fixer]: If this is actually real organic coffee—
A beat.
Then he looked around the café carefully, like he'd suddenly realized how absurd the situation was.
[Fixer]: —How in the City are you two still alive?
Eridius answered while dragging a mop across the still-damp floor, cleaning up what remained of the stress puddles from earlier.
[Eridius]: We've got protection from both sides now.
A pause.
Then he jerked his thumb toward Alexander.
[Eridius]: And Alex is strong enough to politely fold most people into furniture.
Alexander continued preparing coffee in complete silence.
The Fixer stared at him for a second longer.
Then slowly looked down toward the small pile of dark coffee beans resting beside the grinder.
His expression shifted.
Suspicious.
Careful.
Almost nervous.
He leaned forward slightly.
[Fixer]: Are those actual beans?
A beat.
[Fixer]: Not powdered artificial mix?
Alexander calmly picked up a handful of beans.
[Alexander]: They are authentic.
The Fixer immediately snatched one from his hand before either of them could react.
Then—
Crunch.
Silence.
The Fixer froze.
His expression changed once.
Then again.
Then three more times in rapid succession, like his brain was failing to process what his mouth had just experienced.
Slowly—
Very slowly—
He looked back up at them.
[Fixer]: …This is real.
A pause.
Then, with complete seriousness—
[Fixer]: How much can I sell a kidney for these days?
Eridius didn't even look up from cleaning.
[Eridius]: One cup costs 1,000 Ahn.
Silence.
The Fixer blinked once.
Twice.
Then pointed accusingly at the beans.
[Fixer]: Hold on.
A pause.
[Fixer]: You're telling me the real thing costs LESS than the artificial garbage?
The Fixer stared down into his coffee cup like reality itself had personally insulted him.
A long silence followed.
Then—
[Fixer]: …The City really is full of scams.
Eridius nodded immediately.
The Fixer took another slow sip before suddenly straightening slightly.
[Fixer]: Right. Before I forget—
He reached into his coat and pulled out several folders thick enough to qualify as blunt weapons.
The papers landed heavily on the counter.
THUD.
[Fixer]: Instant coffee bags, too. I'm buying as many as my salary can survive.
Alexander silently placed several sealed bags onto the counter while the Fixer continued speaking.
[Fixer]: These are your Fixer registration forms.
He pointed at the first stack.
[Fixer]: One for Mister Eridius.
Then the second.
[Fixer]: One for Sir Alexander.
A pause.
Then he placed down a third document with visible ceremony.
[Fixer]: And this one is for registering your office.
Silence filled the café for a moment.
Eridius slowly lowered the mop.
Alexander stopped grinding coffee.
The two looked down at the forms quietly.
A strange feeling settled over the room.
Not fear.
Not tension.
Just…
Reality.
They had survived long enough for this to happen.
The Fixer leaned back slightly.
[Fixer]: Once you fill out the name section—
A beat.
He pointed toward both of them with his coffee cup.
[Fixer]: You two officially become Grade Nine Fixers with a registered office.
Silence.
Then Eridius immediately grabbed a pen.
No hesitation.
No thought.
He wrote down a single word in large letters.
{Ragnarock}
Alexander looked at the paper.
A pause.
Then very carefully—
[Alexander]: Did you spell "Ragnarok" incorrectly on official Association documents?
Silence.
Eridius stared at the form.
Then at Alexander.
Then back at the form again.
A beat.
[Eridius]: …It's stylized.
Alexander slowly closed his eyes.
[Alexander]: Of course it is.
The Fixer looked between the two of them for several seconds before deciding he did not get paid enough to question this.
He simply stamped the documents.
CLACK.
[Fixer]: Good enough.
He immediately pulled out another stack of papers.
Thicker.
Far more unpleasant-looking.
[Fixer]: Now for the important part.
A pause.
Then professionally—
[Fixer]: Delivery fee. Office registration tax. Association maintenance tax. Local operating tax. Street usage tax. Signboard permission tax. Food preparation certification tax—
Eridius's face slowly lost all life.
Alexander quietly reached for the emergency tea.
The Fixer continued flipping through papers mercilessly.
[Fixer]: And the optional-but-not-actually-optional Backstreets stabilization contribution fee.
Silence.
A long silence.
Then—
[Eridius]: …The City really saw capitalism and decided it wasn't evil enough.
The Fixer gave him a deeply tired look.
A pause.
[Fixer]: This is the discounted version.
Silence.
Then Eridius slowly handed over a pouch of Ahn with the expression of a man watching his lifespan decrease in real time.
The Fixer counted the payment calmly before stuffing the money away.
Then he slid several smaller files across the counter.
[Fixer]: Here are beginner requests your office qualifies for.
Eridius glanced down at the papers.
[Office Requests]
Rat Extermination
Package Retrieval
Backstreet Escort Duty
Kitchen Equipment Repair
Missing Person Investigation
A pause.
Then his eyes slowly stopped on the last one.
[Eridius]: …Absolutely not.
[Fixer]: Smart choice.
The Fixer grabbed the instant coffee bags Alexander had prepared, gave the café one final look, then slowly walked toward the exit.
Before leaving, he stopped near the doorway.
A pause.
Then—
[Fixer]: …Try not to die before next week.
Another beat.
[Fixer]: Your coffee's too good for that.
Ding.
The door closed behind him.
Silence returned to the café once more.
Rain tapped softly outside.
Then—
Eridius slowly looked down at the office registration papers resting on the counter.
{Ragnarock Office & Café}
A long pause followed.
Then he leaned back slightly and exhaled.
[Eridius]: …We finally became functional members of society.
Alexander considered that statement carefully.
Then—
[Alexander]: Honestly, that sounds more dangerous than the Sweepers.
Eridius nodded immediately.
[Eridius]: Correct. Which is why—
He suddenly turned toward the system with terrifying focus.
[Eridius]: —We move on to the truly important event before we do anything catastrophically stupid.
A flicker of blue light appeared in the air.
[Gacha Rolls: 20]
Alexander's expression changed instantly.
Subtle fear.
Deep concern.
The kind normally reserved for unstable explosives.
Eridius cracked his knuckles dramatically.
[Eridius]: We ball.
Without hesitation—
He pressed [Ten Roll].
Then immediately pressed it again.
The system violently flickered.
Lights spun.
Error messages flashed briefly across the screen before being forcefully suppressed.
Then—
[Congratulations, you obtained:]
[Rusty Blade]
[500 Supply Points]
[Phantom Gloves]
[Blank Masks x10]
[100,000 Ahn]
[100,000 Ahn]
[Gourmet Cooking]
[100 Commander Points]
[100 Commander Points]
[100 Commander Points]
[100 Commander Points]
[100 Commander Points]
[Red Iron Greatsword]
[Iron Skin]
The room went silent.
Then—
[Bum… Bum… BUm…]
The screen distorted violently.
Gold flooded the interface.
Alexander slowly backed away on instinct.
{LEGENDARY}
A long, dramatic pause followed.
Then—
[Genius]
[Madden Combat — All Episodes]
[50 Songs from YouTube]
[Brewing Master]
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Eridius stared at the rewards.
Then slowly stood up from his chair.
His hands trembled slightly.
Not from fear.
From greed.
[Eridius]: …This is good.
A pause.
Then his smile widened dangerously.
[Eridius]: I just need to roll more.
Alexander immediately grabbed several mission files from the counter.
Emergency evacuation instincts activated.
No response.
Eridius was already staring into the spinning gacha screen like a man witnessing divine revelation.
[Alexander]: Leader, your eyes are glowing.
Still nothing.
The system reflected directly in Eridius's pupils now.
Unblinking.
Obsessive.
[Eridius]: The next roll could fix my life.
Alexander slowly turned toward the exit.
[Alexander]: …Those are the words people say moments before financial ruin.
Eridius pointed at the 200,000 Ahn reward proudly without looking away from the screen.
[Eridius]: The gambling already paid for itself.
[Alexander]: That is exactly how it begins.
Silence.
Then Alexander quietly opened the mission folder.
[Alexander]: I will go complete several low-risk assignments before this escalates further.
[Eridius]: Bring back money.
[Alexander]: I intend to.
A pause.
Then carefully—
[Alexander]: Please do not summon an eldritch god while I am gone.
[Eridius]: No promises.
Alexander closed his eyes briefly.
Then left anyway.
Ding.
The café door opened.
At almost the exact same moment—
Outside the café—
A young woman stood silently beneath the rain.
Her condition was horrific.
A deep scar ran from the top of her forehead down across her left eye to her chin.
One arm was missing completely.
Her damaged Zwei Association uniform hung loosely from her body, the emblem across it violently scratched out in the shape of an X.
Blood soaked through the fabric in several places.
Fresh wounds.
Old wounds.
Too many wounds.
She looked exhausted.
Empty.
Broken.
For several seconds, she simply stood there in silence while rain poured over her.
Then slowly—
She closed her remaining eye.
And opened the café door.
Ding.
Warmth spilled outward.
The smell of coffee.
Fresh bread.
Music quietly playing in the background.
And inside—
A white-haired child staring at glowing gacha screens with the expression of a man moments away from committing several financial crimes.
The girl froze.
Eridius looked up slowly.
A pause.
Then—
[Eridius]: …Welcome to Ragnarock Café and Office.
Another pause.
Then honestly—
[Eridius]: Ignore the gambling addiction. It's part of the atmosphere.
[Chapter End]