Alright, so the peculiarities of the local society were dealt with: we basically learned about them and planned to palm off the solution onto… someone else, because I'm really not coping anymore, and cloning myself… I think that's a terrible idea. I don't want a Shizu 2.0; those few months of mush in my head were more than enough.
Now, back to the matter at hand – I need to pry information out of an extremely insecure girl, while NOT seducing her in the process and not blowing my cover. Any options?
Well, theoretically, I could bail at the very end, saying I'm "not ready yet" or something like that. What do girls say in these situations? "It's not you, it's me" or "We're too alike to be together"? Sounds plausible, but I'm on the side of Light, and the right thing to do would be to find her a decent guy. The only problem is, I'm no Cupid, and I'm not even sure I should be getting involved in this stuff. But I feel sorry for the girl. Thanks to my ex, beauties with gorgeous bodies aren't even considered women anymore. That's just not right!
Okay, nothing's coming to mind, except maybe setting her up with "One." They seem to get along pretty well, so it sounds like a viable plan. The only unclear thing is the nature of their relationship, because what I saw in reality was a far cry from what I'd imagined based on the cartoon.
"Time," I say curtly to Nancy, who had already managed to get some sleep. I glance at my smartphone screen – I bought it to blend in with the humans. I used to think our "IMasks" were inconvenient, but after buying the human version, I realized Sarakael is a freaking genius. "Hello?"
"Good evening, you… you asked me to call when I was free…" a voice came from the phone, and her timidness was almost endearing. Look what this screwed-up society does to people! This whole mess needs fixing!
"Yup, let's meet at the entrance to that café, okay?" I walk over to the mirror and inspect myself thoughtfully. Showing up to a "date" in shorts and a T-shirt… sounds like a bad idea.
"Y-yes, of course…" And she hung up… But what about the time? What the hell?
"I take it she's finally free?" Nancy asked, yawning.
"Yeah, now I'm wondering what to do with you…" I reply without turning to face her.
"In what sense?" the detective asked, her voice tinged with caution but also curiosity.
"Well, either I just drop you off somewhere and quickly transfer our 'chocolate drop's' smartphone to you so you can dig up all the necessary info, or I let you tail us. Maybe you'll notice something while I'm digging for data?" I throw out the options, transforming my clothes into a sharp black suit with gold elements like buttons and other small details. I considered a white suit at first, but then it occurred to me that it would attract way too much attention. Besides, a man can't always walk around in white, right?
"The second option. It doesn't take much effort to sort through data, but an outside perspective could be useful," the girl stated immediately, providing her reasoning on the spot. Makes you wonder if people were really being dumbed down, or if idiots are just obvious from the get-go.
"No problem, then. Here," I say, holding out a small white earpiece. "This is to stay in touch." I demonstratively put an identical one in my right ear, and as if by magic, it disappears. This one's my own creation; currently the most complex artifact I've ever made. Sarakael consulted, of course, but he didn't do any of the work or even offer hints, so I'm damn proud of myself. I've already supplied a small part of my angelic host with these gadgets, though they're a bit redundant since the Masks have the exact same function – communication, even between worlds.
"…" Nancy silently inserted the earpiece, and a moment later, a soft beep sounded in our ears – connection established. You can control it by tapping the earpiece, an idea I borrowed from the TWS earbuds of my world. Pretty convenient, I think. "Convenient…" the girl confirmed my thoughts, her words echoing in my ear. You don't even have to speak; you just have to think, willing the other person on the "call" to hear your thoughts. I explained as much to the redhead.
A few minutes later, we were already near the ice cream café. Naturally, I had no intention of taking a girl there a second time. I'll take Linda to a restaurant that's excellent, according to the reviews. We can get a proper delicious meal there (as I've said many times, after Heaven, only the finest restaurants can even begin to satisfy my palate).
"Evening…" I wave, approaching "Two." The girl had made an effort – she clearly didn't call right after work, because she was wearing a beautiful red evening dress that bared her shoulder blades and shoulders. It's amazing she got here so quickly. Either she lives nearby, or she was already here when she called. "You look great!" I wink, speaking the honest truth. This kind of outfit suited her far more than a business suit, and it wasn't overly sexualized like the modern trends: with cutouts everywhere imaginable and a micro-skirt.
"Oh, thank you," the girl smiled, "you were quick."
"I was nearby, that's all," I smile back and offer my arm. Linda takes it, and we continue down the street. "I booked a table at a restaurant. I hope you'll like it."
"You shouldn't have, that must be expensive…" she replied, a little sadly.
"No, don't worry about it. It was nothing, really. It's not every day you meet a beauty like you. I can certainly afford a good meal for such an occasion."
At first, I wanted to butter her up with compliments to boost her self-confidence after I was gone. After all, when a handsome, rich man compliments you, it's a reason to be proud of yourself, isn't it?
"If you say so…"
For the next fifteen minutes of our walk, we just chatted about random things: I made jokes, asked about her interests and tastes, and all the while, my mind was racing, thinking about how this all looked from the outside or trying to figure out how to get information about her job out of her.
"Here we are," I announce, stopping in front of the restaurant.
Against the backdrop of the city's hustle and bustle, the building's facade stood out with its elegant restraint. A narrow, Japanese minimalist-style building was bathed in the soft light of paper lanterns hanging along the cornice. The sign with the name was done in sumi-e style—black ink on an aged wooden board: "それから (Sorekara)," as if written by hand.
The facade was clad in dark wood, polished to a matte sheen. Under a small rice-paper canopy hung traditional noren curtains, swaying gently in the wind. By the entrance, a stone lantern cast a soft, amber glow, next to a neat miniature zen garden: white gravel, stones, and a single small bonsai tree in a ceramic pot.
The storefront, if there was one, was blacked out—intriguing, not revealing what was hidden inside.
"Sorekara?" Linda asked, gazing at the building, mesmerized. I could understand why. This was LITERALLY the best Japanese restaurant in the entire state, if not the country. Two Michelin stars, an entry fee just shy of the price of an old but-still-elite car, and the menu prices were just as monstrous. How could I afford it? Well… Sif runs this whole operation.
Yeah, my son doesn't just get drunk and perform for stoned idiots; he's also a businessman! Surprising, isn't it?
In all seriousness, I'm not some moral degenerate. Sif and I met a few more times after his cleansing. I even took him and his cat to Heaven, showed him off to the Seraphim, like, "look how cool he turned out. My little punk!"
We also exchanged numbers, his and his girlfriend's, who now constantly sends me photos from their concerts and stuff. I suggested she get an Instagram for it, so now she's not just "a rocker's girlfriend" but a "blogger," which sounds way more epic and significant!
Oh, and finally, I demanded two favors of any kind from the kid for bringing him and his beloved back to the Light. The first, as it happens, was spent organizing this evening and, while I was at it, checking out the local high cuisine, albeit Japanese-style.
"Yep, they say it's a pretty good spot," I say, noticing the awe in my date's eyes and smiling at it. Yeah, it's nice when people react to surprises like this. Maybe I should take Lute somewhere? We're always running around cafes and cinemas in Heaven; the lady might be getting tired of it, and me being a dense blockhead, I'd probably never figure it out on my own.
"But this place is incredibly expensive!" she stared at me with wide eyes, realizing she was on a date not just with a "rich guy who wasn't affected by the trend of mocking athletic women," but with a "Fucking Rich Guy who simply doesn't give a damn about society." At least, that's how I imagine she sees me.
"Don't worry, I told you, it's fine," I smile reassuringly and lead her to the door. As they see us, the guards immediately open it. The guards here look like actual butlers, their faces not wearing the usual grim scowl of security but rather friendly smiles. "I hope you don't mind revealing one little secret to me?" I ask, noticing the girl looking around the hall, captivated. Nancy will be let in too, just a little later, whenever she deems it necessary.
A faint aroma of toasted sesame, charcoal, and blooming sakura hung in the air. The space was drowned in a soft twilight, broken by spotlights: a separate lotus-shaped lantern hung over each table, casting a warm circle of light.
The floor was dark wood. The walls were partly rice paper and silk, adorned with calligraphy and monochrome engravings. Along the walls were built-in niches with ceramic figurines, ikebana, and scrolls with haiku.
The tables had wooden chairs, not cushions as is traditional in Japan. Everything looked expensive and lavish, and the traditional Japanese music with a modern twist only elevated the mood.
"A secret?" Linda finally snapped out of her trance. "What secret?"
We walk a little further, and the girl awkwardly hands her purse to an employee, who bows to us and leads us to the second floor, seating us at a table.
"What do you do for a living?" I ask point-blank. "I got curious. I rarely meet fit, beautiful women, and a thought crossed my mind… Maybe you're in commercials or some movies…"
I need to sow panic, even more than she's feeling now, to make her nervous and spill the information.
"No, no!" the girl immediately waved her hands, blushing. "I work for…," she trailed off. Didn't push her far enough, what a shame. "Ahem, I work for a company, we're in construction…" Linda began to explain, not very eager to reveal the secret of the existence of demons in our world. Well, you can't blame her.
"Come in, Adam," Nancy's voice sounded in my ear. "Some unknown was following you, in a 'D.H.O.R.K.S.' uniform."
Aha, so our girl's buddy probably noticed her acting strange and decided to follow her? Or is he just worried about his friend? Or jealous? Who the hell knows, but he's not a problem, though I'd rather not have a shootout in my son's restaurant.
"Got it. Continue surveillance. If anything happens, I'll fly in to help," I reply mentally.
"…And that's about it," Linda finished her "story about work." It was a pretty good cover story, actually. She clearly didn't just make it up on the spot but was following protocol, which says a lot about their organization. It means my attempt was doomed from the start… But why could they come up with a solid cover story but not properly arm their people?
"Very interesting," I say as the menus are brought to us. "Nigiri with sea urchin and wasabi, the 'Sorekara' ramen, and sashimi of wild tuna, hamachi, and sea bass," I place my order, looking expectantly at Linda. She hesitates for a few seconds but then starts choosing her dishes…
One hour and forty-seven minutes later.
"Wow, they really know how to cook here," I say, stretching my neck. Yeah, everything was actually quite delicious. The wine, by the way, was also nice, practically non-alcoholic in taste, more like grape juice. Not sure if that's a good thing for humans, but for me, it's divine, since alcohol just ruins the taste of a drink for me.
"Yeah, I've never eaten anything more delicious in my life," 'Two' agreed, now more relaxed and less shy. That was a good sign, because I hadn't let up on the compliments; if anything, I'd increased them. "…To my place?" she blurted out unexpectedly after a dozen seconds of silence, quickly turning her familiar shade of red.
"…" Okay, my past-life experience is silent. Adam's experience says to turn it all into a joke and bail with an epic guitar solo. My reason says that's a shit idea. Who to listen to? "Ahem, I'm sorry, but I'm not ready for that on a first date…" I finally managed to say something. I definitely didn't expect that question.
"…" The agent's face fell, and she sighed sadly. "You don't like me?"
Oh, for fuck's sake, don't start!
"It's not that, it's just that I'm an angel trying to make contact with the world government to take over the world," I say. What, should I keep hiding? Nancy returned the phone to 'Two' a good 15 minutes ago, and I'm suddenly tired of all the secrecy. Yeah, most of the blame for this should be placed on the girl sitting across from me. I really didn't want to deceive such a pleasant person, and my memories of her behavior in the cartoon are irrelevant. She's just not acting the way she was portrayed. Besides, it often happens that when you tell the truth, people don't believe you. So she'll probably just brush it off as a stupid joke, and we'll part ways peacefully.
"An angel?" she nearly jumped out of her seat. Or maybe she won't.
"Yup," I say, unfurling my wings. It's worth noting that the entire second floor was reserved for us, so there were no problems with extra spectators. Except for the security guards behind the cameras, but Sif can deal with that.
"…" Linda shot up, pushing her chair back. Her wine glass nearly toppled over, but she caught it at the last second. Her eyes were wide, her breathing shallow. "What… what the hell is that… You… you were just kidding, right? Is this a prank? A projection? Technology? An illusion?" her voice broke. "Or are you really… an angel?"
"Yup, the real deal," I nod gravely, not quite sure how she'll react next. It seems her demeanor changes as soon as "mystical entities" are mentioned. That explains everything…
"That's impossible… we've been monitoring all the 'arrivals'… We have no records, no data, not a single confirmation! We would know if you existed!" Panic and a kind of manic glee were in her voice.
"Well, actually, I was flying around the city a few months ago," I say, though I don't remember which city exactly. But the cameras managed to catch me, I know that for sure. And that scene with the imps on the beach…
"So that wasn't a fake or a viral prank?" she asked, stunned. Well, it's logical to assume that an "angel flying around the city" isn't very realistic.
"Nope, that was really me." I stand up from the table too. "Linda, you're not a bad person, and I'm sure you'll go to Heaven when you die. How about you work with me, for the good of all humanity?"
"Go to Heaven?" the girl froze for a second. "Wait, Adam, work with you? What do you mean?"
"I know what the organization you work for does, but I don't like the way the human world is run." I walk over to her and pat her head reassuringly, which seems to bring 'Two' back to her senses a little. "I want to change the world, change society, so that after death, everyone goes to Heaven instead of being sent to eternal torment in Hell." Of course, no one actually goes to Hell for eternal torment, but she doesn't need to know that. Besides, that's exactly the kind of propaganda I'm planning to spread. The church has gotten way too relaxed, what with all those movies about brooding demons in Hell who suffer only from unrequited love. Disgusting.
At that moment, the window shatters and a man jumps in—the same one whose "photo" Nancy had transmitted to me an hour ago. "One."
The man brushes himself off, stands up, and points a pistol at me, a pistol that reeks of DEATH… What the…