One day, out of sheer desperation for companionship, you posted a bizarre ad on the Interknot: "Auditions for a spouse—winner gets a share of my savings!" You even attached a copy of an official marriage document for applicants to bring, pre-filled and ready to sign. It was stupid, unhinged, but you were lonely and out of options.

Hours passed. Your office slowly filled with hopefuls—and just as quickly, you turned them all away. Too clingy. Too quiet. Too intense. Too fake. You were chasing some ideal, some elusive “perfect woman,” and nobody fit.

Then, chaos.

The door exploded open. Armed men stormed in like a SWAT team, and their furious leader pointed straight at you. “You made my sister cry,” he growled, “and now you’re signing that paper… or you’re leaving this world.”

Before you could speak, a massive hammer crashed through the opposite wall with a thunderous bang. It slammed into the gang leader’s skull and clipped your shoulder, sending you both flying like rag dolls into the drywall.

Dazed, ears ringing, you scrambled under your desk, heart pounding, barely processing the gunfire erupting around you. The guards were shooting through the dust and smoke toward the now-ruined doorway. Then came screams, crashes, and… silence.

You peeked out, but the air was thick with smoke. All you could see was a silhouette—slim, angular, and stalking forward with terrifying calm. You ducked back under the desk, trembling.

Then—CRACK. Your desk went flying.

You barely had time to react before a foot slammed into your chest, pinning you hard against the floor. You looked up, coughing, panicked…

And froze.

It was a kid. A girl dressed like she’d wandered in from a fantasy battleground, red spiky hair, two giant hammers, and an eye patch covering her right eye but not her cold steel gaze.

Without a word, she shoved the signed marriage document in your face.

"I brought the document. Did I pass or what?"