Translator: raggykoshka
Editor: Vie
A reticent woman with hair braided into three braids and a pair of black-rimd glasses, Tamaoku Mutsu, was leaning as far back into her creaking chair as it would permit, taking a break for the umpteenth ti today.
“What a slow day. Are we finally going out of business?”
“Please stop saying such ill-oned things”, -- the baby-faced college student who sat at the desk across from Mutsu grumbled in protest as he diligently typed sothing on his keyboard.
“Well, there’s no work to do. Like at all. And anyway, the boss was playing with slot machines again today, isn’t it?”
Yuno Sousuke, a broad-shouldered man with a large build who sat next to Hiroto stood up from his chair with a chuckle.
“Who wants so coffee?”
“!!”
“I’ll go make so.”
Mutsu, who had zero intention of getting up from the beginning simply raised her hand.
Sousuke used one hand to gesture for Hiroto to remain seated and disappeared into the kitchen at the back of the office.
Only the sound of water flowing could be heard from the quiet kitchen.
This place, the Yorozuya, which was in a perpetual state of lack of work was a business that does various odd jobs. Desks with three chairs each were lined up facing each other, but only three seats were used.
The desk that’s slightly separated from the others was the company president’s, but it was rare to see it occupied.
Today he had also gone out to play with slot machines. Or, rather than going out, it would be better to say that he simply hadn’t co in to work at all.
Putting aside the issue of why it was viable in the first place; why has a company with so little work not gone out of business yet?
The reason the company hasn’t gone bankrupt can’t be known to outsiders.
Mutsu, Sousuke and the part-tir Hiroto who work here all have powers out of the ordinary.
Mutsu’s lineage can be traced back to an
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