🐈 🐈 🐈
“LOOKS like you believe me now.”
That night, the Bean Jelly Man toy appeared in his dreams again. There was actually something annoying about his wildly flapping cape despite the utter lack of wind.
“Are you a god or something?” asked Edmund. There were a few things that made him wonder. This “god” looked like a jelly character that didn’t exist in this world, for one, and then Edmund’s stubborn constitutional imperfections were kept at bay out of what seemed like an impossible coincidence.
This was all rather sudden and hard to believe, but he suspected that might be the explanation.
“If you’re up to speed, let’s dive into the important stuff,” answered Bean Jelly Man. “I need you to find a heroine.”
“Right… It really is a dream. Good night.” Edmund went to close his eyes, but Bean Jelly Man flapped his arms to stop him.
“Wait! I’m running out of time! You’re my last resort!”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Even if this was a dream, it made little sense. Edmund couldn’t think of any time limit red bean jelly would have to be wary of—other than its best-by date—but that wasn’t a problem Edmund could help with. He did consider suggesting he store himself in a fridge if he was so worried about going off while stored at room temperature, but he wasn’t even sure if Bean Jelly Man would be considered a food item.
“I host this Lucky Reincarnation Raffle, right?” Bean Jelly Man explained. “The winner of this round wants to gloat over the heroine’s downfall in a European-inspired-otome-game setting, where she plays the beautiful and intelligent villainess.”
“…That was too much information. I didn’t catch most of it.”
“You don’t have to understand it, just accept it.”
A rather slipshod explanation. If Bean Jelly Man really wanted his help, he should explain it in a more easily understood way.
Regardless, it didn’t seem like Edmund could escape this dream. He decided to shut off his brain and listen.
“There are these restrictions in place in this world,” continued Bean Jelly Man. “They make it so the actors have to be someone who was reincarnated. So, I went around sounding out reincarnated girls the same age as the raffle winner, but they all refused.”
“I’m not surprised. It seems pretty pointless. What is this downfall supposed to be, anyway?”
“The details aren’t spelled out. But…based on past examples, it could be losing fame and fortune in the best-case scenario. Average is probably getting sent to some nunnery or exiled from the country. Worst case is a death sentence.”
“Obviously, they would all refuse to throw their life away like that.”
It was one thing to end up facing the death penalty after committing crimes you chose to do. It was absolutely absurd to ask someone to die just because someone else wanted to gloat.
“It seems the villainess role has grown in popularity lately,” said Bean Jelly Man. “Heroines aren’t popular at all. Then, there’s the whole downfall thing. No one’s accepting the job.” He wobbled his head about as if at a loss for what to do. However, it seemed there was an obvious outcome for Edmund.
This wasn’t about what was popular and hip. It was about the fact that no one would actually wish such an illogical misfortune on themselves.
“What about canceling this Lucky Whatever Raffle and issuing an apology to the winner? That would solve everything,” Edmund suggested.
But Bean Jelly Man shook his…blob…of jelly…corresponding to a head. “You don’t understand the allure of a reincarnation story. And the fate of the company rests… Um. I mean. There’s just a lot of background issues. The important thing is, I need a heroine.”
Edmund thought he heard Bean Jelly Man say something odd, but he didn’t think too deeply about it since he’d shut off his brain earlier. “But why do I have to look for a heroine?” he asked. The actors had to be reincarnated people, but he didn’t exactly have the ability to judge this sort of thing.
Were there really a whole lot of reincarnated people, anyway?
“To be blunt, you’re bait,” remarked Bean Jelly Man. “You’re a good-looking guy. You’ll seduce the girls with that ridiculously pretty face of yours and draw in a heroine for me.”
“That doesn’t sound ethical. I’m not interested in being a part of your criminal activities.” Getting compliments on his looks from Bean Jelly Man didn’t exactly make him happy, and he was even less happy when he heard why he was chosen.
“But in return for doing that, I’ll fix your constitution. Every time the heroine acts like a good heroine, you’ll get a bit healthier. How’s that sound?!”
“How’s that sound…?” Edmund felt nothing but distrust for this toy, like he was a mark for a used car salesman.
“Normally, I can’t grant any wishes that go against the order of things—like curing disease, increasing lifespan, bringing someone back from the dead—but there’s a little leeway regarding contractees. Besides, you’re not sick. I just need to bump up your constitution a bit.”
Nothing about what Bean Jelly Man said sounded honest and good, but Edmund had already seen his ability to improve his constitution at work. Maybe this was an opportunity to make his body normal, something he hadn’t been able to do with healthy food, exercise, or medicine.
“No, I don’t know if I can be involved with leading some girl who’s done nothing wrong to the death penalty,” Edmund declared.
“I don’t think it’ll get that far. The winner of this raffle is a little, how should I put it…bad at thinking things through?”
“What?”
“She didn’t even write anything about a downfall in the contract.”
That did sound like someone terrible at following through with things. If she wanted to become a villainess who gloats over the heroine’s downfall, then the details would be important conditions for the main event.
“The contract is considered fulfilled as long as contractees carry out what’s written in the contract,” added Bean Jelly Man. “There aren’t any restrictions outside of that. You just have to finagle things so the downfall doesn’t end up with the girl dead.”
Edmund thought this whole thing was haphazard and selfish, but he did feel a little less opposed to the idea when he learned the girl wouldn’t necessarily have to die. He couldn’t stop his interest growing at the prospect of eliminating a problem he’d had for so long.
Additionally, he felt more reassured after reading the actual contract and learned the raffle winner wasn’t after some sort of horribly dark revenge story.
In the end, he agreed to a contract with Bean Jelly Man, received a ring symbolizing that contract, and went to meet the raffle winner.