Chapter 1
Prologue: A Clash of White and Black
Elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen stood chatting in the grand hall of a hotel.
It almost looked like a wedding reception.
However, the atmosphere was slightly different. Everyone was trying to make good impressions with practiced smiles. Even at a glance, some people stood out immediately, awkward and stiff.
It was no surprise. How someone behaved at this party could have a significant effect on their future, so being polite was crucial.
That's how it should have been, but . . .
Come on, don't be like that! I just want to talk.
This man's attitude was hardly gentlemanly.
He was young, with dyed brown hair and pierced ears. His brightly colored suit gave off a sleazy host-club vibe as he followed a woman around.
Umm . . . it's just that I'd really like to speak with some other people as well.
The woman's rejection was subtle. She gave a vague smile and tried to slip away.
Maybe he thought he could get his way if he just kept pushing.
Alright then, how about we swap numbers? That's no big deal, right?
The man persisted stubbornly.
No, um . . . that's a bit . . .
The woman maintained her gentle demeanor as she tried to put some distance between them.
But the young man showed no sign of giving up the chase.
I said no, didn't I?!
The crowd nearby that has previously been pleasantly chatting turned to stare at her outburst as she finally lost her patience.
But as soon as they saw the rough-looking man, they quickly looked away to avoid getting involved.
The young man sneered at them and reached out to grab the woman's arm.
Why don't we leave it at that?
A voice called out from behind him.
It's fine to be proactive with women, but don't you think this is a bit too much?
The young man turned around with a sullen expression, visibly taken aback.
Standing there was a man larger than him.
A muscular man in a gray suit commanded the room with his presence, standing over 180 cm tall. He seemed to be in his mid-twenties.
Who the hell are you? Mind your own business!
Despite feeling intimidated, the young man snapped back boldly.
But his opponent remained unshaken, his calm gaze posing a question.
Would he back down quietly, or . . .
. . . I don't give a damn about this woman anyway.
With an irritated click of his tongue, the young man turned away.
As he disappeared from view, the woman he'd been harassing let out a sigh of relief.
Ah, thank you so much! He just wouldn't take a hint!
Well, in places like this, you run into all kinds of people. Best to just forget it and move on.
The tall man chuckled warmly, smiling with genuine kindness.
At this, the woman's cheeks flushed, her gaze intensifying as she swallowed nervously.
Alright then, I'll be on my way.
Ah, um! If it'd be alright, could we maybe talk a bit more?
The woman rushed to offer him her card as he raised his hand to leave.
It was her profile card.
On it were her hobbies and skills to help avoid any awkward silences.
. . . Sorry.
The tall man made a small gesture of apology.
I'm not actually here for the party—
As he spoke, he pulled a business card from his suit pocket.
Entaro Hakujo. I'm a matchmaker with a marriage consultation agency.
This was the venue for a matchmaking party, exclusively for members of marriage consultation agencies and their matchmakers.
Marriage consultation agencies help men and women find partners. The people who work there are called matchmakers. Entaro was one of them, attending the party as a companion to one of the members.
The term 'matchmaker' still often conjures up images of meddling neighborhood aunties, but it is an entirely legitimate profession.
They connect people and earn a fee for their services.
Entaro was one of these professional matchmakers.
So, you're a matchmaker . . .