The signboard was smaller than he'd expected. 　On the stone wall of Harze's small plaza, Shota held the board steady with both hands. The rough, gray surface was cool beneath his palms. Luna drove in the nails. *Kon, kon*—dry sounds echoing through the morning air. "It's crooked," "I'm trying to keep it straight," "It's tilted about five degrees to the right," "...Just secure it like this, please," 　Luna drove in the final nail. *Kon.* 　The two of them stepped back and surveyed their work. 　The board bore the text Luna had rewritten last night: *"Fluffy. You can touch it. For tired people."* Written in Luna's meticulous hand, it hung on the stone wall tilted five degrees to the right. "Well, it's fine," "I can fix the tilt," "No, actually it feels right this way. People are more likely to approach if it's not too perfect," 　Luna glanced at him briefly. Her eyebrows moved slightly. She seemed about to say something, then stopped. 　Shota checked the fluffy creature on his lap. The white ball of fur gleamed faintly in the morning light. Wind from the Coral Sea swept across the plains, rustling Shota's black bangs. Harze was still wrapped in the quiet of early morning. A rooster crowed in the distance. 　*(Will anyone come?)* 　There was no certainty. Until yesterday, nobody knew this business existed. A single signboard—how many people would actually stop? 　Shota lowered himself onto the edge of the stone pavement. Luna stood beside him—exactly one person's distance away—and opened her notebook. The fingers holding her pen looked pale in the cool morning air. 　Like that, the two of them waited quietly. 　◆ 　The first person to approach was an elderly woman. 　Her back was bent. The sound of her cane tapping against the stone pavement drew slowly closer. Shota started to stand, then paused to read her expression first—was she wary, interested, or just asking for directions? 　The old woman's eyes weren't on Shota. They were fixed on the fluffy creature in his arms. 　Shota gently offered it to her. "Would you like to touch it?" 　The old woman said nothing. Her gnarled fingers reached out toward the fluffy creature. The moment she made contact—fine vibrations began. The resonance vibrations of the fluffy creature, which soothed human emotions through spiritual essence, reached her aged palm. 　The old woman's eyes narrowed. 　A single tear rolled silently down her cheek. There was no crying sound. No sobbing. Just something transparent tracing her wrinkled face. "...It feels like my son's hand," 　She murmured it to no one in particular. Her voice was low and gentle. The Gray War—the chaos that had reduced the continent to ash a hundred years ago—had claimed countless lives. Perhaps the old woman's son was among them. Shota couldn't know. But hearing those words, he found himself unable to respond. 　*(Ah.)* 　So that's what this is, he thought. He'd vaguely assumed the resonance vibrations were healing—easing anxiety, relieving fatigue. But it was different. It reached somewhere deeper. To the core of a person's memories. 　Beside him, he heard Luna's pen moving across paper. Shota watched the old woman's profile. Luna watched her notebook. Neither of them spoke. 　That silence felt somehow right. 　◆ 　Word of mouth spreads fast. 　Less than half an hour after the old woman departed, leaning on her cane, people began gathering in the plaza. First three, then five. Before long, nearly ten people had formed a line. Merchants bearing travel fatigue, parents with children, residents of the post town. 　Shota moved busily. He offered the fluffy creature, let people touch it, observed their reactions. The price was one fen per session—a single copper coin, worth about half a loaf of bread. Not exorbitant, not free. Luna kept the ledger. Shota handled the customers. Their rough edges fit together well. 　Then a voice cut through—cheerful, out of place. "Whoa, what's this? What's going on! That's an amazing line!" 　Shota turned to see a young man with tousled chestnut hair and sharp yet innocent amber eyes pushing through the crowd. He was slightly taller than Shota. A short sword hung at his waist, and a bronze-rank adventurer's badge was pinned to his chest. He had a habit of waving his hands around while talking, his right arm cutting through the air dramatically. "Can I get in line too? It'll work out somehow, right?" 　Shota answered reflexively. "Of course. You're last," "Got it! I'm Gon. Bronze-rank adventurer! I'll definitely be useful!" "Shota. Fluffy Distribution Merchant," "Fluffy Distribution Merchant!? That's a real job!?" "I just created it," "You're a genius!" 　It was introduction enough. Gon took his place at the back of the line, but he couldn't seem to stay still. He started talking to the people in front and behind him. Shota watched from the corner of his eye while focusing on the next customer. 　A few minutes later, it was Gon's turn. 　When Shota offered the fluffy creature, Gon reached out casually with a "Yeah!" His fingertips touched the white fur— 　Gon's expression changed, just slightly. 　A crack appeared in his cheerful smile. His mouth stayed the same, but his eyes—just for an instant—looked somewhere far away. His amber gaze drifted into empty space, and his lips pressed together as if holding something back. 　It was a change that lasted less than a second. 　*(Huh?)* 　Shota didn't miss it. 　The next moment, Gon was back to normal. He laughed, "Man, it's just got nice fur, right? That's all this is!" and returned the fluffy creature to Shota. His double teeth flashed briefly. "I'm gonna spread the word about this business! It'll work out!" "Well, um... thank you," 　Shota let the comment slide while listening past Gon's words. That one instant bothered him. The way someone laughs while holding something back—the laugh comes a little too fast. 　But Gon was already talking again. He tapped a nearby male citizen on the shoulder and declared, "This is amazing, you gotta try it! I guarantee it!" while reaching for the fluffy creature. "Wait, wait, hold on!" 　Before Shota could stop him, Gon had already thrust the white ball of fur toward the man. 　The citizen's face turned pale. "It's a spirit beast!" 　That single phrase sent a wave through the plaza. 　Spirit beasts—dangerous creatures born from corrupted spiritual essence, designated as extermination targets across Verdia continent. While they looked nothing like the fluffy creature, there was no guarantee someone wouldn't confuse them based on the impression of "white, fluffy fur." 　The line dissolved in moments. Children cried. Merchants clutched their goods. 　Luna stepped forward. "Please remain calm. This is a spiritual-essence-responsive organism—more precisely, a 'spiritual resonance entity, essence-vibration species' classified as a life form fundamentally different in origin from spirit beasts. While spirit beasts indiscriminately absorb and mutate external spiritual essence, spiritual-essence-responsive organisms possess internal essence-reception tissues and return resonance vibrations matching surrounding emotional patterns—" 　The plaza fell silent. 　But not from reassurance. Everyone's face simply read: *"I have no idea what you just said."* A child started crying again. The merchant's face turned even paler. 　Shota stepped forward. "It's not scary and it doesn't bite. That's all," 　Silence. 　Then someone snorted. Laughter broke through the tension, and the plaza's atmosphere relaxed all at once. The child stopped crying. The merchant managed a wry smile. Gon scratched his head saying, "Sorry for the commotion!" 　Luna returned to Shota's side. Her profile showed no particular emotion. "...Was my supplementary explanation unnecessary?" "Luna's explanation was perfect as an academic paper. Just like with the signboard," "Understood," 　Luna wrote something in her notebook. Perhaps: *"Information transmission to general audiences: simple language is effective."* 　After the commotion settled, Gon came to stand beside Shota. "By the way, I caught part of what was said earlier. You should be careful of the Yellow Iron Merchant Consortium," 　Shota's ears twitched. "...What do you mean by that?" "I once double-booked a job," 　Gon said it lightly, waving his hand while laughing. "It was a genius-level mistake!" But that laugh came a little too fast again. "The Yellow Iron Consortium—they basically control all commerce on Verdia continent—gave me a job transporting their goods, and a competing merchant also gave me a job transporting theirs, and both wanted me to pass along 'information about the other side,' and, well, stuff happened," "Stuff?" "It worked out! Well, some parts didn't work out, but anyway!" 　Luna watched Gon quietly. "Statistically speaking, triple-booking is only a matter of time," "No way! Absolutely not! I'm a genius, so I learn!" "Geniuses don't double-book," "That one hurt!" 　Gon laughed ruefully. This time his laugh had a bit more ease to it. He was accepting Luna's jab. 　Shota studied Gon. Cheerful, loud, laughing off his failures. But there was something underneath. That one instant when he touched the fluffy creature—the expression of holding something back. And that phrase just now: "stuff happened." "Would you work with us?" 　Gon's eyes went wide. "Huh?" "Fluffy Distribution Merchant. Luna and I can't handle it alone. And thanks to you spreading the word, we got this line today," "...No, I just made things worse, didn't I?" "The plaza became lively. There was a certain advertising effect," "That's not really a compliment, Luna," 　Gon was quiet for several seconds. Unusually, his hands weren't moving. "...Can I actually be useful?" 　His voice had changed. Not the light tone—his real voice. "You can. Just stop causing chaos like you did earlier," "I'll try my best!" 　Gon laughed. This time it was a proper laugh, with a real pause in it. 　◆ 　As the sun began to set, Shota felt something he'd never felt before: a sense of real progress. 　Nearly thirty people had touched the fluffy creature today. Two had cried. Seven had laughed. More than ten had left without saying anything. But all of them—their faces were different when they left than when they arrived. Just a little softer. 　*This is it,* Shota thought. The same certainty he'd felt that night in the inn corridor when the little girl pressed her cheek against the fluffy creature—that certainty had only grown stronger through today's accumulation. 　As the plaza began to empty in the evening light, Shota handed the ledger to Luna. That's when he saw a figure at the plaza's edge. 　A merchant-type man. Around forty years old. Plain navy jacket. Unremarkable appearance. Except for one thing—on his left chest, a badge bearing an iron ring with a sealed mark. 　Luna saw it immediately and gently tugged Shota's sleeve. 　Shota looked at her. Luna's water-blue eyes were narrower than usual, sharper. In her expression, he saw an unfamiliar seriousness. Something tightened in his chest. 　The man approached quietly. "You are Shota Sato, correct?" 　His voice was calm. Not threatening. Not angry. That's what made Shota uneasy. "I represent the Yellow Iron Merchant Consortium—the commercial organization that manages trade distribution across Verdia continent," 　The man continued. "I have come to confirm certain matters regarding today's activities. The unauthorized exhibition of a spiritual-essence-responsive organism and the exchange of compensation fall under matters requiring intervention per our consortium's commercial order maintenance protocols," "We haven't even—there's been no formal transaction—" 　As Shota started to speak, the man withdrew a ledger from his jacket. A leather-bound, meticulously kept ledger. 　The open page contained numbers and writing arranged in perfect order. 　The