"You're single, right?" That single line was the beginning of everything. In the Kurosawa Accounting Partners office in Kanda Nishikicho, only Takatsuki Kousuke's desk—lined with three monitors—stood out jarringly in a room steeped in Showa-era mustiness. Okada sat at the adjacent desk. Thirty-two years old, solidly built, with an affable face, and blessed with the talent of "not reading the room." "Yeah, I'm single." Kousuke answered without lifting his eyes from the monitor. The pivot table was reaching its critical phase. He didn't want his concentration broken. "Could you go to this?" An envelope pulled from a business card holder landed on Kousuke's keyboard with a soft thud. He reluctantly stopped working. When he picked it up, the paper felt expensive. Thick. It looked like nothing but a hotel party invitation. "What is this?" "A matchmaking party. Got it from a client, but I can't make it that day." "Then you could just decline normally—" "Already paid the 30,000 yen registration fee." A beat of silence. "…From my wallet?" "I said I paid it." "That's not the issue! The problem is you signed me up without asking!" Okada laughed. "You're so picky." There wasn't a shred of malice in it. It was infuriating. "It's at Grand Veil Akasaka. A high-end hotel. You've got at least one suit, right?" "I do, but…" "It's just a normal matchmaking party. Look, the venue name is cool—Suikou no Ma." Kousuke sighed and opened the envelope. He pulled out the invitation. His eyes caught on the sender's name. General Incorporated Association Chudai-kai. Representative: Sonobe. He'd never heard of the organization. Some kind of returnee support group, maybe. Whatever. Kousuke didn't think much more of it. Later, he would think he should have paused for even a second there. --- On the day itself, Kousuke was standing in the Grand Veil Akasaka lobby thirty minutes early. Five-foot-seven, black short hair, slender build. Carefully groomed eyebrows and black-framed glasses. A navy suit he wasn't used to wearing gave off an oddly formal air. He'd even polished his leather shoes. He thought he'd prepared pretty seriously. Taking the elevator to the third floor, he saw the reception desk at the end of the hallway. Two staff members stood in front of a table. As he approached, other participants came into view. Around thirty people, men and women combined. Everyone was dressed properly, and the atmosphere seemed like a normal matchmaking event. (Good. It's normal.) Kousuke relaxed his shoulders slightly. "Your name, please?" "Takatsuki Kousuke." "Thank you for attending, Takatsuki-sama. Could you fill this out?" He was handed a business-card-sized form. Three fields on the front. Name. Age. Skill Name/Level. …Skill Name/Level? Kousuke went rigid. Looking around, the other participants were writing on their cards as naturally as breathing. Right next to Kousuke, a clean-looking young man was filling his out with fluid movements. Kousuke hadn't meant to look, but he saw it anyway. Oboro-ryu Kenjutsu・Mugetsu Slash Lv78 (Eiketsuki-class). Kousuke's thoughts went white. A woman on the other side finished and returned her card to the desk—it flashed into view for a moment. Full-party buff provision・support specialization. The man next to her was writing with a smug expression: Inferno Hell mastery・flame resistance MAX. (What…? What kind of matchmaking is this…?) Kousuke looked at his own card. The Skill Name/Level field was waiting. He genuinely agonized for a full minute. He couldn't lie. During the tax accountant exam, he'd redone the depreciation calculations three times because they didn't match. That was the kind of person he was. Kousuke wrote in his careful handwriting. Excel Operation Lv89 / Tax Accountant License (18% pass rate). He couldn't write a lie. That was it. When he returned the card to the desk, a burly man standing next to him glanced at Kousuke's card. "…Excel?" "Office software. Spreadsheets." "A new attribute?" "No." "Information-type skill, huh. Rare. I see, I see." The man nodded as if he'd figured something out and walked away. Kousuke watched his back and muttered quietly. "…We're not on the same wavelength." --- Suikou no Ma was spacious. Three chandeliers hung from the ceiling, scattering particles of light across the polished floor. Catering tables held food, and small tables were scattered around the edges. At first glance, it really did look like a normal party venue. Except. Ten minutes into the free-talk time, Kousuke found himself standing quietly against the wall, witnessing the carnage. Near the center of the room, a solidly built young man was introducing himself to a group of women. "So my skill is called Inferno Hell, right? I can incinerate a forty-meter radius at two thousand degrees. I've even cut the chant time down to twelve seconds." The women's faces stiffened slightly. "…What are your hobbies?" "Monster hunting." "How do you spend your days off?" "Monster hunting." "What's your dream for the future?" "Hunting even stronger monsters." Complete silence fell. Kousuke could see "I want to leave" written in the women's eyes. (His communication skill is Lv1…) Kousuke thought to himself. In another corner, a different tragedy was unfolding. A pale, slender man was speaking seriously to the woman across from him. "I'm water-attribute specialized, right? So attribute compatibility is huge for me when choosing a partner. Ideally, I'd want a fire-attribute girl. You got anyone like that?" "…Attribute?" "Party composition balance is important, you know? If there's a healer-type skill, earth attribute works too, but I don't want pure support specialization—I need someone who can attack a bit too. And status-wise, I'd want at least Lv60." "…I'm going to use the restroom." She didn't come back. (Is this matchmaking or a party composition meeting?) Kousuke put a small quiche from the French cuisine spread into his mouth. It tasted good. Whether it was worth 30,000 yen was debatable, but at least the quiche was genuine. He was grateful his card was staying quietly inconspicuous. --- Finding an opening, Kousuke escaped to the restroom. He stood at the sink, washing his face with cold water. His reflection in the mirror looked slightly pale. Water droplets scattered across his glasses' frame. Then something caught his eye in the mirror's edge. Near where the wall met the mirror, a faint pattern resembling a hexagram glowed translucently. The longer he stared, the more it seemed to rotate slowly. (What is that?) From deeper in the hallway, he heard staff members speaking in low voices. "The barrier in the southeast of Suikou no Ma is slightly misaligned. If someone goes berserk—" "We won't make it in time." "I know. I'll fix it tonight." Kousuke left the sink and entered a stall. He locked the door, sat on the closed toilet lid, and pulled out his phone. His hands were trembling slightly. He typed into the search bar. "Returnee social reintegration matchmaking." The top result was a simple white and green website. General Incorporated Association Chudai-kai. The tagline hit him like a punch. "Mutual support and social reintegration assistance for returnees from the otherworld 'Ash Realm.'" Ash Realm. Kousuke went still. He kept reading. "Approximately eight years ago, unexplained disappearances began occurring across Japan, transferring people to the otherworld 'Ash Realm.' After years of adventure, these people have been returning to Japan. Returnees retain the special abilities they gained in the otherworld, but many struggle with social reintegration and isolation…" The more he read, the more his hands shook. In other words. All those participants were actually people who'd come back from another world. Inferno Hell, Mugetsu Slash, full-party buffs—all of it was real. And the barrier in this venue, the "berserk" the staff mentioned—all of it was real too. Kousuke looked up at the stall ceiling. (I want to leave…) But. "30,000 yen…" The words leaked out quietly. The 30,000 yen Okada said he'd "paid." That came from Kousuke's account. The same 30,000 yen that, once a month while buying a pack of side dishes at the supermarket, made him think "I did good this month." There was no way to get it back. Kousuke stood up, unlocked the door, and looked at his face in the mirror. Black short hair, carefully groomed eyebrows, deep brown eyes. Navy suit. From any angle, he looked like a normal twenty-eight-year-old salaryman and tax accountant. (Alright.) Kousuke took a deep breath. As an Excel spreadsheet specialist, he would survive this returnee matchmaking party. He made that resolve. The face looking back at him in the mirror had an indescribable expression. It was almost funny. --- The moment he returned to the venue, a staff member approached Kousuke. The same person from the hallway conversation. "Takatsuki Kousuke-sama." The voice was hushed. Kousuke stopped. "…Yes?" "You're the one Representative Sonobe personally issued an invitation to, correct?" "No, actually, my coworker—" "I see." The staff member nodded expressionlessly and returned to the reception table as if nothing had happened. (That's it? What does that mean?) Kousuke headed to his seat feeling unsettled. He found his assigned table number, pulled out a chair, and sat down. Then he noticed. There was a woman in the seat next to him. She looked about his age. She had a composed air, and her posture was naturally straight. Black hair cut neatly at the shoulders caught the chandelier light quietly. She wore a modest black dress with no unnecessary ornaments. That simplicity somehow made her look refined. Her status card was placed face-down on the table. (Oh, the card. It's face-down.) Kousuke decided not to think about it further. Just then, as a venue staff member slipped past the table, they bumped the leg of the woman's chair, sending a slight vibration across the table. The card slid. Face-up. Kousuke's eyes reflexively fell on it. He read it in less than a second. Oboro-ryu Kenjutsu・Mugetsu Slash Lv78 (Eiketsuki-class). "…Wait, Eiketsuki-class?" The words came out before he could stop them. A quiet voice, but close enough for the person sitting right next to him to hear clearly. The woman slowly turned toward him. Their eyes met. Her eyes were quiet. There was little emotional fluctuation in them, as if she were looking at something far away. Kousuke instinctively started to look away. But the woman's gaze didn't move. It fell quietly on Kousuke's status card. A beat. "…Excel Operation Lv89." The woman murmured. Her voice was low and calm. "I've never heard of that skill." There was a pause. "Is it a rare class?" Something pounded violently in Kousuke's chest. But not for the reason he might have expected. Not because a beautiful woman had spoken to him. The reason was something entirely different. An Ash Realm returnee, an Eiketsuki-class swordmaster, had just asked with a straight face if "Excel Operation" was a rare class. A twenty-eight-year-old salaryman tax accountant had absolutely no idea how to answer. And with that, Takatsuki Kousuke's strange night truly began.