Finn stared at Chestelle with the utter sadness of a man who wanted to clock out—not from work, but from existence.
But alas, life kept punching the clock for him.
"Hehe... not really," Finn chuckled, forcing optimism into his voice like a used-up daycare worker. "Nothing will change. You’ll just be... you know, registered. On paper. So everyone knows who you’re with and what party you belong to."
Chestelle’s eyes lit up. "So everyone will know I belong to you?!"
"Uh..." Finn glanced at the receptionist, who imdiately shot him a ’Don’t you drag into this circus’ look.
He bit his lip. ’Damn it...’
"No," he replied reluctantly. "But they’ll know who you’re with."
"So... belong to."
Finn sighed in defeat. "...Whatever you wanna believe."
Chestelle threw her fists in the air and jumped with glee. "Hooray!"
What followed was the sa scroll registration process Finn had gone through before—only now with significantly more secondhand embarrassnt, and Finn having to play dad like he was helping his kid sign up for preschool.
Chestelle couldn’t even spell, so Finn had to guide her finger through most of it like a tired tutor. But when they reached the Na field, sothing weird happened.
She scribbled "Chestelle."
No magical beeping. No scroll rejection. Nothing.
Finn blinked. ’Huh... that’s weird.’
He looked over at the receptionist, who blinked right back at him.
They stared at each other for a few seconds like two NPCs sharing a glitch.
Finally, Finn broke the silence. "Uh—so. When I first t her, she didn’t know her na. I just called her Chestelle. But it... didn’t beep. I thought it auto-detects if you lie?"
"Oh," the receptionist said casually. "If she didn’t rember her or have a na before and you gave her one, the scroll registers it as her real na. It’s like a divine lie detector—it forces you to put your true na down. So if she didn’t have one, then whatever you gave her is valid."
Finn blinked again. "Oh... that’s... kinda cool."
He was about to ask sothing else when she cut him off.
"And yes. It can detect if you have any diseases."
Finn flinched. "Wait—you knew I was going to ask that? Then you rember—?"
"Of course I do." Her tone dipped into a teasing smirk. "Sli boy."
Finn bit his lip.
God. She’s so hot.
Tug. Tug.
He looked down to see Chestelle tugging at his arm, then pointing at the next question on the scroll.
The one question.
The cursed question.
"Libido score."
Finn felt his soul flicker. This was the question that brought him sha. But now? Now he was morbidly curious.
Still, he had to explain it. "Uh... it ans, do you feel any sort of sexual desire? Or... do people find you attractive?"
Chestelle blinked, tilted her head... and then wrote on the scroll:
"i dnt now!"
The scroll sparkled. Accepted.
Finn facepald. "What the actual hell..."
And so, Finn continued helping Chestelle answer the rest of the scroll’s deeply invasive questions—like "Sexually Transmitted Curses."
Finn absolutely despised this part, but at the sa ti... he was kind of thankful. Because apparently, he was infertile. Which ant he could go to bed with a girl without waking up nine months later with crippling child support and a court date.
But yet he still wanted to have his fertility!
A silver lining, he told himself solemnly.
Chestelle, anwhile, didn’t check any of the curse boxes.
"Thank the heavens," Finn muttered under his breath.
Then ca the part he’d been looking forward to: discovering her divine or innate ability.
The receptionist took Chestelle’s hand, pulled out a special enchanted pen, and drew the sa ancient sigil she’d drawn on Finn’s palm to reveal his Trip God powers.
Finn leaned in, curious. Very curious.
And...
The receptionist’s brows furrowed. She leaned in. Squinted.
Then her eyes widened.
"Oh. That’s... very fortunate for you," she said, sounding surprised. "Well—not fortunate, exactly, but... let’s just say you got one of the rare Vaultari variations. It seems you can transform into living creatures."
Finn’s eyes widened like his kid just got accepted into Harvard.
Chestelle just blinked in confusion, clearly not understanding the significance of any of this.
But Finn? Oh, he understood.
Rembering the lore Arsenio had told him about the mimic people.
He clenched his fists dramatically and looked up at the ceiling.
’Thank you, heavens... I shall train her into the greatest mimic girl this world has ever seen!’
Chestelle smiled beside him, still blissfully unaware.
Finally, they reached the last question on the scroll:
"Estimated Mana Level."
Finn and the receptionist both exchanged a look, full of expectation. Hope. Belief. The kind of look you give a kid before opening their SAT scores.
She had potential. She had to.
And they were probably right...
Right?
And of course... Chestelle didn’t know her mana level either.
So, naturally, the receptionist sighed and pulled out the infamous white orb—the sa magical orb used to asure one’s mana field. The one Finn so horribly failed at.
She placed it on the counter with a dull thud.
Chestelle tilted her head at it, deeply confused. Then looked at Finn.
"Is this what a ballsack looks like?"
Finn didn’t flinch. "Just put your hand on the orb."
He grabbed her wrist and slapped her palm gently onto the glowing sphere like he’d done this a hundred tis. (He hadn’t.)
As her hand rested there, the orb began to glow. Faintly at first.
Then stronger.
Then brighter.
Finn and the receptionist leaned in, eyes wide with anticipation like they were watching a gender reveal party that might blow up the forest.
Chestelle joined in too, staring at her own hand like she just learned she had one.
The orb glowed.
And glowed.
Brighter.
And brighter.
And then—bam!—it flashed a deep, powerful cyan.
Finn blinked. "What the hell does cyan an?! That sounds important!"
He stared at it in awe. This was far beyond what he got. When he touched the orb, it practically just coughed and shut off like a gas station microwave.
The receptionist tilted her head slightly, visibly impressed. "Her mana field is quite strong... above average. actually."
Finn’s jaw dropped.
"So what rank would she be?" he asked.
The receptionist stared at the glowing orb and gave a satisfied nod.
"S-Rank."
Finn’s brain exploded.
Chestelle smiled proudly. "S for snuggle, right?!"
Finn wanted to cry, laugh, and thank the heavens simultaneously. This girl was a walking disaster, but sohow... she had great potential.
And Finn was going to train her right.
At least that’s what he was telling himself.
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