Chapter 0
Exactly 50 years ago.
It was revealed that the world we lived in was actually part of the "Tower."
Back then, everyone was shouting calamity, the end of the world, God's judgment—.
But all that chaos is old news now.
Each floor of the Tower is a different world.
Through the Tower, we came to interact with them.
Monsters, powers, Tower raids, magic stones.
Now all of it can be turned into money.
Nowadays, the Tower is an indispensable giant market and a window for communication in our world.
And I, Kim Juseon,
am also one of the people who make a living through the Tower.
<Across countless worlds, we find your miracle.>
Hunter-specialized matchmaking agency, Meracle.
CEO of the matchmaking agency, Kim Juseon.
Our work is no different from an ordinary matchmaking agency, but our clients are special.
Clients from every floor of the Tower.
We literally connect destinies across dimensions.
And today.
I was interviewing someone a little special.
“Yes, may I have your name—.”
“Renea Barlosa Declen Fiora—.”
“Would it be all right if I shortened that to Renea?”
Her pointed ears twitched.
She looked displeased.
“Humans always insist on shortening elven names.”
“And yet you people shorten each other's names too.”
The words rose to my throat, but I barely swallowed them back.
Elves are extremely rare.
More precisely, this elf was extremely rare.
You can't judge an elf's age by appearance.
But the pink-haired elf in front of me matched her age exactly.
“Wow, an elf in her mid-twenties really is rare.”
“Mm, yes. At this age, this one usually stays in the forest. But this one dislikes feeling cooped up, so I came outside.”
“...‘this one’?”
As I narrowed my eyes, Renea waved her hand.
“I lived with my grandmother, so I got used to it. Please don't mind it.”
“Oh, I see. Anyway, you're really a catch. Elves always have the looks going for them, and you're even young to boot.”
“Mm-mm.”
“Looks S-rank, age S-rank. Where are you living now, by any chance?”
“I'm staying in a pavilion behind Daebongsan over there.”
“…….”
That's why those elf bastards are a problem.
The moment they see a tree, they start by laying out a picnic mat.
“No housing, then. What about assets?”
“……I do have a bow. Want me to show you?”
“No, I can already see it. It's the one on your back.”
It does look expensive, but who would want to bring a bow as a dowry?
“How are your parents doing in their old age? Well, elves live so long, so—.”
“Ah! They both passed away.”
“I see—.”
What?
The parents of an elf who could easily live two thousand years were dead?
“Uh, did something happen? An accident, maybe?”
When I cautiously probed, Renea grinned and waved her hand.
“Oh, no, no. They both lived long lives and passed away very peacefully, smiling beneath the World Tree.”
“…….”
My blood ran cold.
She had an elf child who looked about twenty, and then immediately passed on?
And that elf is out in the world?
In our terms, that would be like a baby that had just had its umbilical cord cut crawling around downtown.
“Phew, hey.”
“Hm?”
“Be honest with me.”
As I closed the file I had been filling out with her personal details, I asked.
“How old are you?”
Sweat was trickling down my forehead.
That was answer enough.
“How old are you?”
“1,501 years old.”
I needed a smoke.
“If you're 1,501 years old, you're middle-aged even among elves! Are you kidding me?!”
As I sprang to my feet and shouted, Renea immediately dropped to her knees and grabbed my pant leg.
“W-wait! Please! Please don't give up on me! No one will even meet me anymoreeee-!”
“Are you kidding me?! At 1,501, you're older than my ancestors' ancestors' ancestors! What decent young man's life are you trying to ruin?!”
“I do too! I want to laugh and play with young men too! I still want a fresh first loveee!”
“Then go meet other elves!”
At that, Renea flinched.
After thinking for a moment, she finally confessed.
“Actually... I used to be an elven queen, so I'm a bit old, and everyone finds me intimidating.”
No wonder the bow looked absurdly expensive.
“An elven queen? Why is a queen here? If you're 1,500 years old, you should still be in your prime—.”
Wait, don't tell me.
“You lied about your age?”
“...A little.”
Renea pursed her lips.
“Sigh. Be honest. How old are you really?”
“……1,901 years old.”
That crazy woman shaved 400 years off.
“Get out! Absolutely not! Elven queen? What, are you some old hag trying to rub up against young people?!”
“Oh, pleeease! I heard Meracle was the best in this line of work! I, I want to snuggle up with young people and even swap diaries too!”