"You... you were dead," the driver whispered with a cracked voice. "I saw your head... I saw the blood..."
He looked down at the asphalt. The blood was still there, a dark, steaming smear of crimson, but the man standing in the center of it seemed unharmed. There was no wound, although evidence of blood still stained his frame.
The screech of tires and the sound of the crash had acted like a dinner bell for the city's curiosity. Windows slid open in nearby apartments while pedestrians stopped mid-stride. A circle began to form, a wall of human faces illuminated by the flickering orange glow of the truck's hazard lights.
"Did he just... stand up?" a woman in a business suit murmured, clutching her purse to her chest.
"I saw him roll," a teenager whispered, holding up a phone with the camera lens focused on Lovemir's face. "His arm was literally pointing the wrong way. I swear to God, I heard it snap back."
The murmurs grew, a rising tide of static that filled Lovemir's ringing ears.
"Does he know pain?"
"That's sick! He might just be an alien."
"Is it a prank? Is there a hidden camera?"
"He's covered in blood, but he's not even limping."
Lovemir ignored his surroundings and, as if looks could kill, he glared into the thin air. Another panel popped out.
「 Establishing Connection With Your Skills... 」
「 ■■■ 30% 」
「 ■■■■■ 50% 」
「 ■■■■■■■■ 80% 」
「 ■■■■■■■■■■ 100% 」
「 Success! Your skills have been established. 」
「 You can view them on your [Matchmaker's Window]. 」
He was deeply confused by the jargon, but if there was one thing he understood, it was that he could not end his life even if he wanted to. The System would merely reject his death. He was like a vessel being controlled by some parasite who could not even use a more approachable tactic.
Then, would he just have to accept being a Matchmaker?
Screw that! Lovemir sneered as he started to walk, the crowd scattering as he moved out of their sight.
"W–Wait!" the driver yelled with worry, but Lovemir didn't seem to hear as he continued down the sidewalk.
Lovemir simply rubbed his temples. He might have been new to this, but he was observant enough and wary of modern trends. It wasn't that he wanted to be, but the reality was that even when he didn't mind such trends, they were everywhere. People nowadays were as loud as their creations, and even if he busied himself in suffering, these things made their way into his sight. Kids playing on their phones, news on the television, and even something known as... gossip.
"System, what is a Matchmaker?" he asked out of the blue.
He still didn't like the idea of playing by the rules — what was that supposed to mean to him? But if he wanted to die, there might be something he needed to confirm. The System would simply answer.
A panel appeared before him.
「 In the modern world, the Gods sent forth their personas to search for hosts that would play as the Matchmakers of this era. 」
It appeared as an introduction; once it disappeared and new text appeared, Lovemir got the gist of his question.
「 A Matchmaker is an existence chosen by a God to create a modernized way of apostasy, or simply, finding apostles to battle the darkness of this era. There are different kinds of Matchmakers: Love, Joy, and Fear, among others. 」
Lovemir creased his forehead. "Darkness... What darkness?"
Before the System could respond, a figure appeared beside him with floating pages of a book hovering around him, and before they eventually disappeared, he said: "The harbingers of chaos."
When Lovemir looked at the stranger, the man was wearing a magician's hat, a tuxedo, and loose trousers paired with a vest and a ribbon... all painted in black. His face was rough but charming and defined like an Adonis, with stubs of hair on his chin.
"Or simply, demons."
"Then get a priest and exorcise them," Lovemir scoffed as he continued to walk.
The man smirked. "You know, you're supposed to be shocked. Why are you acting as if we're friends?"
Lovemir didn't answer. In fact, he didn't want to. What could he possibly say, that he was not shocked because he had just let a truck hit him and disfigure his body? That would have been just as baffling.
"I don't see any demons around." Lovemir looked at his surroundings but to no avail.
"In this era, you need to be as keen as possible, dear Matchmaker." The man chuckled. "Look not with a man's eyes," he pointed a finger to his temple, "but with the abilities given to you."
Lovemir raised a brow. "I suspect you know I'm a beginner. I didn't sign up for this absurdity at all."
"Mind you, I was like that at first."
Did you also try to kill yourself? he burlesqued internally. "I guess not," he whispered after.
"Sorry?"
"Nothing."
"You seem to be saying something."
Lovemir realized a fact. "And why have you pried into someone else's conversation?" He assumed this man knew of his system because the stranger likely had one of his own.
"Because you are my mission?" The man clicked his tongue. "The name's Beethoven van Zanth, an Apostle of Love, the Romance Matchmaker." He even bowed as they continued down the busy street.
"Tell me this mission of yours then, dear Sir Beethoven."
"Are you always this direct?"
"Just answer me."
"Fine." Beethoven's eyes flickered. "It's the beginning of your matchmaking service."
"It's the beginning of your matchmaking service."
As soon as Lovemir heard that, Beethoven clasped his arm and some torn pages floated and surrounded them. Before he could scrutinize the sudden turn of events, these pages delivered them upward and caused flight inches from the ground until, in a blink of an eye, they were on the clock face ledge of a clock tower. Lovemir almost lost his footing. Had Beethoven not been holding his arm, he would have fallen to his death!
"Careful, or you'll trip and fall." Beethoven smirked as he overlooked the city from the visage. "This is our City of Love, Roselune."
The dazed Lovemir watched the same sightseeing that this Romance Matchmaker was watching over. From this towering height, the boisterous streets looked like lines of flashing lights passing over. With the blinking ones stagnant in some high-altitude structures and even in low ones, he could clearly see the modernized world he lived in.
Roselune, a place that cursed him. What was lovely in this place to even be called the "City of Love"? How was it hailed as that, when what caused his suffering was within the same culture and tradition that the city had? A person such as he had been greatly damaged by a generational curse, that his parents had also suffered from, which was then passed down to him.
"How do we begin this so-called matchmaking service?" Lovemir simply wanted to end his first task, but the system had not yet displayed anything. What could have been the problem?
Then, he suddenly remembered that it had something to do with the skills given to him through the system, as per his presumption toward what was mentioned by Beethoven. Yet, he had no mindfulness of how to summon the System, although he had awareness that he had the capability to do so. He was also knowledgeable that such a System was bonded with him for life, and he might not be able to escape this peril lest he completed what it required of him. Perhaps, if certain conditions were met, it would then end his life . . . or he could wish for it to end his life.
For now, he might not be able to die of his own volition.
Perhaps his death was designed as another's.
Either way, he might have to comply, lest he just prolong the agony that was life.
"How do I summon the System?" he then asked coldly, as he first needed to assess how it functioned. It appeared on its own terms earlier, even before it had become online, but that was only due to its initialization as per 'bonding' with him after he became a vessel called the 'Pragma Matchmaker', a modern-day Apostle of the God of Love.
"Any means, actually." There was a pleasantry in his voice, as if he was eager to teach Lovemir the very core of such ridiculousness. "It's not hard for us to summon it nowadays. From the past, coming from our ancestors to the recent ones, they have already suffered greatly the cost of such. Thus, even when you call the System in your own mind, it can simply show itself to you. No additional terms."
And so, Lovemir did call through the word, "System."
The Matchmaker's Window appeared before him.
「 MATCHMAKER'S WINDOW
Hostname: Lovemir Rimevol
Under the Service of: God of Love
Servitude Title: Apostle of Love
Servitude Role: Pragma Matchmaker
Matchmaking Service: Pragma Love
[Tier] Pack: Tier III [T-3] — Gunslinger
Class: Class 1 [C-1]
Current Level: 1 (Combat Focus)
Current Grade: F (Matchmaking Focus)
Skills: [Golden Thread | Passive] [Soul of Achilles | First Skill] [Heart of Aphrodite | Second Skill] [Drape of Cupid | Ultimate Skill]
Current Merits: [400/500] Pragma Merits 」
Lovemir almost felt dizzy, for what was displayed was something he could not guess easily. It was not plain, and so he might need an explanation from someone human. It happened that Beethoven was here, and to bother this man, he must do so in his utmost need.
His first question was: "What's the difference between a Tier Pack and a Class?"
Beethoven wondered for a great while, but not so long after he was compliant and thus made a thorough response. "The System's explanation of them is indeed complex, but to make it much easier to understand, it is something like this. A Tier comes in a pack and, like in some game mechanics, it could be compared to roles and stats all in one. For example, a certain role has certain stats designed for you, and once this role is given, it can't be changed. If you could have a job and resign, here you can't. As a Matchmaker, you are to comply until your End-of-Life, or simply EoL."
Lovemir knew what End-of-Life meant in products, meaning the product would have reached the final stage of its lifecycle. At this point, the manufacturer would stop production, sales, and support. EoL could then be said to commonly be used in hardware and software industries to signal that a product would be phased out, often in favor of newer models. Therefore, Lovemir would then be a product, and thus a model that could be replaced at any moment.
Grateful that he had a good memory — and a few tech people had gossiped near the computer shop from his wretched house — he harkened not long ago about some service that was about to cease, which saddened them. But looking into his past only made him more broken, as if the idea of school had long ceased as a dream he might never experience in this life. After all, his life had long since ended after his father abandoned his deceased mother and him.
Lovemir shrugged the thought away and observed carefully what was on the panel.
「 [Tier] Pack: Tier III [T-3] — Gunslinger 」
"It says that I am a Tier III but is specified as a Gunslinger. Does that mean that this is the general concept of my pack, but then I have a role similar to a marksman?" He simply remembered the difference of roles in game mechanics, hence concluding that such was indeed the apparent information he could indulge himself on. "And so, my stats are that of a marksman role?"
"You can see that for yourself."
"What do you mean?"
The Romance Matchmaker just smiled at him.
It seemed he had to make haste and scan it himself.