I Became the Cute One in the Troubleshooter Squad

After a full month, Greg finally returned to his shop.

He took a look around the interior and murmured softly, his tone tinged with surprise.

"It’s much cleaner than I expected… Yuria, did you take care of this?"

“…!”

“…Thank you. It makes me happy to see you treated it with care."

He turned to me with a smile—a genuine one, devoid of even the smallest hint of insincerity.

It seemed he was deeply moved to find the shop spotless, even after being left unattended for over a month.

I didn’t clean it to get praise or anything, but seeing his reaction made me feel that my daily cleaning efforts had been worthwhile.

Trying to seem nonchalant, I crossed my arms and glanced off into the distance.

She looked around, inspecting the space carefully as if assessing its quality.

Her reaction suggested the shop met her standards as a renowned artisan, which made me feel oddly proud.

Greg, looking rather smug, responded lightly, "Not sure what you were imagining, but I don’t like messy spaces. Still, isn’t this place a bit small for someone of your caliber?"

"Hmm, I’m not really into extravagant setups. This compact and functional vibe… I find it more appealing," Karen replied.

"Glad to hear that."

Her tone didn’t suggest she was lying.

While the shop wasn’t huge, it wasn’t uncomfortably small, either.

Had she criticized the place, I might’ve felt a bit salty about it, but thankfully that wasn’t the case.

After Karen finished exploring the shelves, the storage area, and the workshop, we all gathered around a table in one corner of the shop.

Greg, sitting across from us, looked at Karen and me in turn before speaking calmly.

"Alright, let’s start by drafting the contracts. Thinking back, Yuria didn’t get one last time because of that whole Blood Night Incident. We can handle yours now while we do Karen’s."

"Sounds good to me."

“…!”

While I technically didn’t have an official identity, making a contract meaningless, I nodded enthusiastically to show my agreement.

The last time, the sudden outbreak of the Blood Night Incident had derailed the process.

And when I worked at the problem-solver’s office, everything was handled with a verbal agreement.

So this was my first time signing an actual contract.

Though I’d probably just skim through it and sign my name.

"Let’s start with Karen. Given your expertise in artifacts, we’ll draft it as an artisan contract. The shop mainly deals in antiques, buying and reselling them with a markup. We also accept damaged artifacts, repair them, and sell them at a higher price. Your base salary will be this amount. Additionally, for any item you repair, you’ll get over half of the profit margin. Does that work for you?"

"Hmm… That’s a bit more generous than the industry average. Are you sure about this?"

"The location of this shop isn’t exactly ideal for heavy foot traffic. If I can secure a top-tier artisan like you with this offer, it’s worth it for me."

"Alright, then. I’ll graciously accept your generosity. Thank you."

"…"

Greg and Karen exchanged words that flew completely over my head.

As expected of a conversation between a top-tier empath and a master artisan!

The only thing I managed to catch was that Greg had made Karen a very generous offer.

Beyond that, I didn’t bother trying to understand. It wasn’t like I’d ever become an empath like Greg or an artisan like Karen.

Karen owed Greg a debt, and Greg was offering her the best possible treatment. That was enough for me to grasp.

"All done?"

"Yep, looks good to me."

Karen didn’t hesitate as she signed her name at the bottom of the contract.

She trusted Greg, so she didn’t need much time to deliberate.

Greg skimmed through the signed document, confirmed there were no issues, and handed Karen a copy.

Then, he turned his attention to me.

"Alright, Yuria, you’re next."

“…!”

"Your tasks won’t be much different from before. You’ll sit at the counter, greet customers, and call me if they want to buy or sell something. In your free time, you can handle cleaning or organizing the inventory. You’re already familiar with this, right?"

Mm-hmm, just like before.

I nodded confidently, crossing my arms as if to say, I boosted this shop’s profits several times over doing just that!

Even though I couldn’t speak, sitting at the counter like a balloon figure had been surprisingly effective.

Many first-time customers were too intimidated by Greg’s towering, muscular frame to approach him, so my presence alone had helped.

Honestly, anyone seeing Greg for the first time would be scared.

A two-meter-tall orc built like a wall was intimidating in ways that were hard to describe.

"You’ll get paid a monthly salary. You’ll work five days a week, weekdays only, from morning to early evening. If you multiply the hours worked by the hourly rate… you’ll get this amount. What do you think?"

It was perfect—no, amazing!

The offer was already several times better than what I’d earned at the problem-solver’s(Trouble-shooter’s) office.

While the office provided free room and board, the work there was much easier and felt more like receiving pocket money than earning a proper wage.

Satisfied with the proposal, I gave Greg a big thumbs-up.

"Hmm, seems like you’re happy with it."

"She’s so cute," Karen added with a giggle.

"…"

Hehe, at this rate, I’ll be rich within a year!

Swinging my legs excitedly, I grabbed the pen on the table.

Even though I hadn’t had much opportunity to write before, surely, I could manage my own name.

Brimming with confidence, I moved the pen toward the signature line—

Tap.

The moment the pen tip touched the paper, the world seemed to stretch and distort.

It felt as though someone was forcibly pulling light and time like a rubber band, creating an unreal, suffocating sensation.

A voice deep within me whispered urgently, begging me to stop.

Don’t speak.

Don’t let them know.

Don’t reveal your meaning.

The sensation was like a frozen hand piercing through my chest and gripping my heart tightly.

The voice reverberated in my ears, sticky and intrusive, as if it were etching itself directly into my brain.

But then, a fleeting thought crossed my mind:

Wait… that’s not my voice.

Who are you? And if I don’t let go, then what happens?

[ Mama, no! ]

Thud!

When I came to, I realized I had dropped the pen.

Greg stood in front of me, Karen beside him, both looking at me with concern.

And I… blinked in confusion.

The brief moment between holding the pen and letting it go was completely missing from my memory.

It was strange—undeniably strange.

For some reason, my instincts screamed not to pick the pen up again.

As I sat there, bewildered, Greg furrowed his brow slightly, picked up the pen that had rolled onto the table, and spoke nonchalantly.

"Seems like writing might be a bit hard for you. That’s fine. This is just a formality anyway. I’ll write your name for you."

"Um, wait, this is…."

"That’s enough, Karen. She doesn’t seem to realize it herself yet, so let’s save this discussion for later."

"…?"

I tilted my head, puzzled by Karen’s flustered expression and Greg’s calm response to it.

Karen, in particular, seemed unusually anxious, as though she had just witnessed something she couldn’t ignore.

Had I caused that somehow?

I wasn’t sure, but their reactions made me feel self-conscious.

And… was that Tesseract’s voice I heard earlier? My head feels a little foggy. Hey, do you know anything about this?

[ Huh? Mama, why would I know? ]

…Never mind.

Tesseract’s innocent tone echoed in my mind.

So she doesn’t know either. Fine.

Still feeling a lingering sense of unease, I decided to revisit the issue when I could understand it better. There was no point in agonizing over something I couldn’t grasp right now.

After that, nothing particularly eventful happened.

Greg, having been away for so long, decided to check on the shop’s inventory.

He told me to take the rest of the day off and start work tomorrow.

It made sense. While I’d thoroughly cleaned the shop, I hadn’t done anything beyond that, like inspecting the merchandise.

It was necessary to confirm that everything was still in good condition. Selling defective goods to a customer would lead to awkward and unpleasant situations.

So… that’s it for today? It’s still morning, though.

Being unexpectedly free so early in the day felt strange, like getting out of school on the first day without any classes. It was nice, but oddly disorienting.

I could just head back to the office—my new home—and relax, but it felt like a waste to leave so soon after coming here.

Maybe I can help with something, even if I don’t know much about the shop.

Determined, I started hovering near Greg, hoping to find a way to assist.

Moving some items? Cleaning an overlooked spot? These were tasks I could handle, and I wanted him to know I was ready.

"Yuria," Greg called.

"…?"

"Someone will probably come looking for you soon. Just sit on the sofa and wait quietly."

"…."

Had my hovering been more of a nuisance than help?

His tone wasn’t harsh, but it was clear that I’d been dismissed. Quietly, I slumped over to the sofa near the counter and plopped down.

Sorry for being useless…

I glanced over at Karen, who was helping Greg inspect the merchandise, then sighed and leaned back on the sofa.

But who would be looking for me? I don’t know that many people…

Curious and slightly anxious, I sat quietly, staring at the shop’s entrance.

Before long, someone Greg had mentioned showed up.

"Yuria! I’m here!"

"…!"

The person who burst through the door was none other than the pink-haired, ever-cheerful Alice.

Wait, isn’t this when she should be at work? What’s she doing here?

Tilting my head in confusion, I stared at her as if a question mark were floating over my head.

She beamed at me and said brightly, "I’m here to treat you to pork cutlets! Wanna come?"

"…?"

Pork cutlets? Just like that?

I blinked at Alice, utterly bewildered by her sudden offer.