If someone had told him, back when he was snapping necks for state secrets, that he'd one day be speed-dating potential wives in a cafe decorated with cat-shaped sugar cubes, he'd have killed them on the spot for insanity.
Now, he just adjusted his tie.
[Main Mission: Acquire a Wife Before Eden Academy Interview.]
[Time Remaining: 4 Days.]
[Warning: Single Father Applicants Face 83% Higher Rejection Rate. Consider Faking Domestic Stability.]
He sipped the world's most insulting cup of tea and stared at the file in front of him. Six candidates. All politically safe, psychologically stable, and boring as toast. WISE had provided dossiers, pre-screened for compatibility.
They might as well have handed him a catalog titled "Wives for Spies: Sanctioned and Sanitized."
He flicked through them with dead eyes.
Too clingy. Too ambitious. Too allergic to children. One of them collected porcelain frogs. Pass.
Anya, sitting beside him with a coloring book and a dangerously high sugar intake, kept peeking at the profiles.
"Her hair is weird. Next."
"You're judging people by their hair now?"
"I have pink hair and high standards."
Fair.
Three women and zero chemistry later, he leaned back in the booth and let out a low sigh.
He wasn't even looking for love. He just needed someone who could play house long enough to get through an elite school interview without giving him up. But every candidate felt like a landmine—smiling too wide, trying too hard, or asking too many questions.
[Side Quest Failed: "Secure a Wife in One Sitting." No rewards granted.]
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
Anya, drawing what appeared to be a unicorn with a bazooka, spoke without looking up. "Why don't we just get a cool assassin lady?"
He blinked.
"…What?"
"You know. Like someone pretty and scary. Like… stabby, but nice. Like in spy shows!"
[Potential Candidate Nearby. Matching Keywords: "Pretty." "Scary." "Stabby." "Nice."]
The System pinged.
He turned instinctively. And saw her.
Across the room.
Dark hair tied up. Simple black dress. Polite posture that screamed I am trying very hard to be normal. But she wasn't. He could see it instantly. Her walk was too quiet. Her gaze too sharp. A deadly weapon disguised as a librarian.
Yor Briar.
She looked... awkward.
Like a weapon on display in a flower shop.
He watched as she nervously sipped her tea, then subtly flicked her gaze around the room—counting exits.
Oh. Oh, she was one of those.
[New Mission: Engage Potential Spouse – Codename: "Thorn Princess." Estimated Risk: Medium.]
[Note: Subject may attempt murder if approached poorly. Proceed with charm. Or pancakes.]
Anya had noticed her too. She grinned like a gremlin.
"That one," she whispered. "She's got cool murder vibes."
"…You shouldn't know what murder vibes are."
"But I do."
He approached her table casually. No sudden movements. No aggression. Just a man with a desperate need for a fake wife and a ticking mission clock.
"Excuse me," he said, voice smooth as silk. "I couldn't help but notice we both look like people who aren't here for the food."
She blinked, startled. Up close, her eyes were warm but alert.
"I—oh, I'm just waiting for my brother," she said quickly. "He—he's working a lot lately."
[Lie Detected. Subject is Unmarried. Occupation: Assassin. Objective: Remain Socially Inconspicuous.]
"How funny," he replied. "I'm looking for a woman to pretend to be my wife."
She choked on her tea.
"…I'm sorry?"
"I know how that sounds." He gave a small, carefully rehearsed smile. "But it's for an interview. My daughter needs to get into a school that believes in stable homes, and I—" he gestured loosely to the world, "—am not exactly the picture of domestic tranquility."
She stared at him.
Then—slowly—she smiled.
It was small. Almost shy. But real.
"That's… actually kind of perfect," she admitted. "I'm being pressured to find a boyfriend to avoid suspicion at work. They're starting to think I'm weird."
You assassinate people for money, Yor. You are weird.
But he didn't say it.
"So we're both under surveillance," he said, lifting his teacup. "Pretending to be normal."
She clinked his cup with hers. "Pretending is better with help."
[Achievement Unlocked: Wife Acquired.]
[Bond Established – Yor Briar. Relationship Level: 1 (Co-Conspirators)]
[Reward: Domestic Aptitude Skill Pack – Level 1. You can now fold laundry without strategic planning.]
Anya watched them from across the room, biting into a cookie the size of her head.
They're both so weird.This is gonna be the best family ever.