The air inside "Chain of Logic" Café was chilled to perfection, filled with the over-roasted bitterness of coffee beans and an almost sterile sense of cleanliness. There weren't many customers, and those present sat upright, their conversations hushed to near whispers. Anna barged in wearing a crumpled printed shirt and jeans, feeling like a rogue component that had strayed into a precision instrument.
Then she saw him.
By the window, a man sat with his back straight, like a military sword sheathed in its scabbard. His pale blond hair was impeccably swept back, revealing a cold, hard forehead and brow. A pair of rimless glasses sat on his nose, behind which ice-blue eyes were fixed on his wristwatch. He wore a crisply ironed white shirt, its cuffs rolled up once, exposing pale, solid forearms.
As Anna approached, he looked up precisely as she reached the table, stood, and gave a measured nod. "Miss Anna. I am Richter von Hasslinger. You are 37 seconds late." His voice was steady, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, like a weather forecast.
"...Parking took a bit longer," Anna explained dryly, taking a seat opposite him. The chair height was just right; the handle of the coffee cup on the table was strictly aligned at a 45-degree angle.
"Understood. Urban traffic variables are indeed difficult to fully control, but reserving buffer time in advance is basic logic." He gestured to the drink already ordered for her. "Based on an analysis of your social media preferences, I took the liberty of ordering black coffee, no sugar. The most efficient choice."
Anna glanced at the dark liquid and forced a smile. "Thanks, but I actually felt like having a caramel macchiato today."
Richter's expression didn't change, but Anna felt the air around them stiffen for a moment. He spoke: "Excessive sugar intake leads to decreased work efficiency and emotional fluctuations, which contradicts rational choice. However, I respect your temporary decision-making rights."
Anna decided to skip the small talk. "So, Professor von Hasslinger—"
"Richter. In the model for advancing intimate relationships, unnecessary honorifics should be discarded first to improve efficiency."
"...Richter," Anna complied, though it felt like uttering a line of code. "You said you meet my requirements?"
"On a data level, entirely." He produced a tablet and pulled up a document. "This is a preliminary matching report, generated based on the limited criteria you published and publicly retrievable information. The match rate is 87.3%. The main points of deduction are your high frequency of unplanned behavior, as indicated by your social media content, and your dietary habits, which lack health logic."
Anna took a deep breath. "So, you contacted me based on this...match rate?"
"It is one of the primary reasons. Your conditions were clearly described with defined boundaries, reducing the cost of social interactions. It is logical." He paused, his ice-blue eyes scrutinizing her as if evaluating an unstable data source. "Additionally, you are currently the only individual who has proposed such precise requirements while your own basic conditions—age, occupation, health status—do not show significant negative parameters."
Anna almost felt like applauding this "compliment." She crossed her arms. "Alright then,"