It might look like I've already made my decision. But I haven't. Not really.
The more I thought about it, the more tangled it became. Joining Hestia Familia? Sure, it'd drop me into the thick of the plot. More screen time, more drama. But the Loki Familia... they're the smarter move. Broader support, stronger members. A better shot at surviving long enough to matter.
And let's be honest—they're not exactly background extras in the narrative either.
...Also, elves.
Yeah. Turns out I'm incredibly weak to elves.
I've seen goddesses—walking, literal goddesses—each a vision plucked from myth. But the moment I locked eyes with an elf?
Game over. My spine turned to water. Heart? Gone. Soul? Willingly donated.
So now the stakes are skewed. It's fun versus structure, heart versus head. I'm caught between ambition... and an incredibly pointy-eared distraction.
Why is this so hard?
I dropped onto a bench facing Orario's center, fingers brushing my chin in thought. My brows pulled tight.
"Logically," I muttered aloud, "Loki Familia is the right pick. Strong roster. Infrastructure. And Riveria is kinda hot."
Not that that's influencing me or anything. Obviously.
Screw it. "I'll go Loki. Best course of action."
No sooner had I said it than I saw them—Loki Familia's group cutting through the crowd like some drunken royal parade. The people moved aside with the kind of hush you save for gods and monsters.
*Sigh.* People in power get treated so differently. It's surreal.
Lucky me... wait. I just jinxed it, didn't I?
Yep. Something weird is coming. I can feel it.
Let's see... gods, they're *all drunk.* Of course they are.
Except Riveria and Finn—the only two clinging to sobriety like a lifeboat. The rest? A giggling, swaying mob of demi-deification.
Guess I'm doing this now.
I rose and strolled toward them, a lazy, almost aimless pace that somehow steered me straight to Finn's side.
"Umm, can I help you?" the small man asked.
I gave him a wolfish grin. "We'll have a long chat later. For now, let me help you drag these heroes home before they pass out in the street."
Their eyes sharpened for a second—Riveria and Finn both gauging me for threats or surprises. But I was unarmed. Penniless. Ragged. Probably looked like a beggar.
Which, now that I think about it, I kind of am.
Loki, meanwhile, clung to Riveria's back like a child on a carnival ride. Her eyes fluttered half-open, just long enough to mumble:
"This kid's not normal... I like him already."
After finally getting everyone to their rooms, Riveria and Finn stared straight at me. Finn, for some reason, was sitting on this... unnecessarily elevated chair. I wasn't sure if it was for some official purpose or just to make himself feel better. Honestly, probably the latter.
Riveria's gaze, on the other hand, was sharp. Controlled. A little too intense. And—okay, fine—kind of hot. She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing, as if trying to peel the layers off my intentions without moving a muscle.
Focus. Don't spiral.
"You're probably asking yourself what I want, and why I want it from you guys, right?"
"Not exactly, but pretty much," Finn replied, still perched up there like a wise raccoon who'd earned himself an inch of superiority.
"Let me cut to it. I want to join your Familia. And before you ask—no, I don't have glowing talent or a sparkling resume. You see me. I look like someone who crawled out of a gutter with dreams and debt, and very little else."
They hesitated. I wasn't wrong.
"I'm not young. No one's bet on me before. But I can offer two things: ambition... and return on investment. It's not flashy. But it'll pay off. I promise you that."
Riveria's gaze flickered—hesitation, curiosity, calculation. Finn just studied me like I was a riddle trying to solve itself.
Then—
Boom.
The door flew open. A shock of red hair spilled in before anything else.
"Enough chitchat!" Loki shouted. "You're joining my Familia!"
We all froze.
I blinked.
"S-sure," I stammered. "I'd be honored."
At this rate… even Riveria's glare might be worth it.