Hito: "Greetings, we’re here on a humble mission to view potential adoptees."

  Headmistress: "This is a private residence now. No orphans here."

  Robert: "Really? Because there are fifty kids playing outside and one just asked me if I’m his new dad."

  Headmistress: "They’re... my grandchildren."

  Robert: "All fifty? I know I shouldn't say this, but Some of them are you know little different "

  Headmistress: "Big family. Cultural exchange. You got a problem with diversity?"

  Hito: "What about the sign that says 'Sunshine Orphanage: Open All Day, No Refunds'?"

  Headmistress: "Oh, forgot to take it down. Silly me."

  Hito: "Just say you don’t want to give us any kids."

  Headmistress: "So you do understand context. Good. Bye now."

  Door slams. Hard. Like their hopes.

  Robert: "That’s the 40th rejection. We've been turned down by both legal and definitely-illegal institutions. Your master’s reputation is worse than a plague rat."

  Hito: "Even plague rats get treated better. I never thought my life would reach this moment."

  Robert: "Honestly, what were you thinking, Hito? ‘Let’s adopt a morally ambiguous murder prodigy.’ That’s your plan?"

  Hito: "It was a brilliant move! If I could get Lord Frank the child of his dreams—carnage credentials and all—I’d finally escape butler purgatory. Maybe even make general! Or... a glorified wine steward."

  Robert: "You’ve been angling for a promotion since the last 6 years. At this point, it's less ambition and more Stockholm Syndrome."

  Hito: "Hey, the game’s only over when I stop playing. And when I rise, I’ll take you with me. Golden spoons in both our mouths."

  Robert: "Speaking of spoons... did you break that royal crockery set? You know, the one that started the whole ‘kitchen lockdown’ incident?"

  Hito: "I deny everything. And even if I did—we’re rich."

  Robert: "You’re lucky this house is more lenient than it looks. A random maid almost took the fall for you."

  Hito: "Oh, please, leniency? Our dining hall has more traps than a dungeon crawl."

  As both walked the city road, A shady man waves them down on the road.

  Man: "Psst. You two lookin’ to adopt?"

  Robert: "Tell me right now—are you a human trafficker? We don't do well with your kind."

  Man: "No, no! I'm Voskin! I run a legally registered adoption agency! Everything’s above board! I even have brochures!"

  Robert: "Then speak like it! You sounded one tavern pitch away from ‘get in the cart.’"

  Hito: "Honestly, after today, I don’t blame him. We’re starting to sound like desperate collectors at a cursed soul market."

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  IN VOSKIN’S “OFFICE”

  Voskin: "So, what kind of child you are looking for?"

  Hito: "It’s not for us. It’s for our master."

  Voskin: "Noble family, huh? Name?"

  Hito: "Frank Alexandrite."

  Voskin immediately pales.

  Voskin: "I just remembered I had to take mother to doctor. Can we do this tomorrow?"

  Robert jammed the blade up to Voskin’s throat, daring him to move.

  Robert: "I’ve had enough walking today. Sit down and Continue."

  Voskin: "Okay, okay, okay. What... what does your lord want?"

  Hito: "A child worthy of the Alexandrite name. Someone dangerous, cunning. Possibly villainous. Ideally terrifying. But y’know—not too insane. Someone dark and deadly. But not a complete psychopath"

  robert: "Exactly. No sunshine. No hugging. No 'my dream is world peace', ‘everyone should live with love’ nonsense."

  Voskin: "Got it. You want a walking trauma magnet who hasn’t lost all social skills yet."

  Robert: "Also, if they have a good sword arm or martial art potential, that’s a bonus."

  Voskin: "So basically... you want a child-sized Frank?"

  Hito: "better if possible."

  Voskin: "Cool cool cool... totally not horrifying. I’ll check the files. No promises, though— No wonder you guys scared off every orphanage in the region."

  He flipped through files like his life depend on it — frantic, increasingly desperate, and vaguely betrayed by everything paper-based.

  Voskin muttered as he tossed another document aside, “Nope. Too normal. Too happy. Too incocent Ugh. Next.”

  Hours passed. Piles grew. Sanity waned.

  Finally, with fingers ink-stained and hope flickering like a dying candle, he paused.

  Voskin: “Found one.”

  Robert leaned in with the weariness of a man who’d walked thirty miles in boots made of regret. “Is she what we’re looking for?”

  Voskin opened the file like it contained a forbidden spell. “Her name’s Alisa. Sixteen. From a small orphanage in the rural countryside. Or what remains of it.”

  He cleared his throat and started reading.

  Voskin: “Burned down a stable. Frequently steals from both thugs and nobles. Employed temporarily but fired for assaulting customers — all adults. She won most of those fights, by the way. Ran away from three orphanages. Got kidnapped by bandits. Came back. Freed herself and all other captives. The bandits were later arrested. Also, this is just the summary.”

  Robert blinked slowly.

  Voskin: “She sounds like Frank’s long-lost spiritual daughter.”

  Hito adjusted his collar. “Seems like a solid match. What do you think, Robert?”

  Robert shrugged. “I mean, if she ranks even five out of ten on the unhinged scale, she’s our best option. And if she’s worse, we can always return her, right?”

  Hito nodded with grim acceptance. “Very well. Give us the address.”

  He handed over a heavy pouch of gold coins. Voskin’s eyes sparkled like a man who’d just won the morally dubious lottery.

  Voskin: “Excellent. I’ll prepare everything. Where should we arrange the pickup?”

  Hito: “Railway station. June 22nd. No earlier. No later.”

  The two men turned to leave.

  Voskin waved them off cheerfully, then cackled to himself as he tucked the gold away.

  Voskin: “My first big deal. And I pulled a miracle. Oh, I’m a genius. Riches, here I come!”

  After few moment, another man entered — disheveled, breathless, and late in the way that suggested criminal incompetence.

  Man: “Sorry, Voskin. Got caught up with something. What’d I miss?”

  Voskin puffed his chest with pride. “Oh, only the start of our glorious empire. I just closed a deal with the House of Alexandrite.”

  The man dropped his coat.

  Man: “You’re joking. Please tell me you didn’t show that file.”

  Voskin: “What file?”

  Man: “That one.” he points his finger to Alisa’s file

  Voskin: “Yes, that one. I even send the details to the orphanage by now. Why what is the issue?”

  Man: “Voskin... that file is ninety years old.”

  Voskin’s smile cracked. His face turned ghost-pale like someone who’d just been told the food was cursed after finishing the plate.

  Voskin: “Ninety…?”

  Man: “Yes. She is old retired army general now. The file was archived for reasons.”

  Voskin began shaking. His pupils shrank to pinpricks. “We have to run.”

  Man: “What?”

  Voskin grabbed him by the collar, wild-eyed. “We. Have. To. Run. Right now. Forget the agency. Forget the paperwork. Forget our real names. We just potential scammed Frank Alexandrite. Do you want to die the most brutal death possible, I sure not.”

  Man: “Voskin, calm down—”

  Voskin slapped him. “This is not a ‘calm down’ situation. This is a ‘pack your soul and flee the continent’ situation. Move!”

  And just like that, two grown men bolted out the back of a poorly constructed adoption agency, one still holding a half-eaten sandwich, both praying they wouldn’t end up on Frank’s next “creative interrogation” schedule.

  And somewhere far away, a certain someone was waiting for the June 22nd wholeheartedly.