Ghosts, Guilt, and a Final Favor

Even though none of the reports that made it to Grant’s desk were about real business, he could still read between the lines. That was his real talent. Sometimes I wondered if he saw more than even I did.

"The Fresno fish market just opened less than three months ago—fifty thousand pounds of fish? Heh, how many private boats is that old woman hiding?" His voice was laced with dry amusement, the kind you get from years of dealing with nonsense.

"Duluth’s mayor… appears loyal to me, but took in a woman sent by the Whitmore family and had a son. I haven’t taken your head yet, and you want me to name your son?" His voice dropped, almost a growl, as he scribbled sharp notes in the margins.

…

I watched and let out a long, wistful sigh. If only I were a career system! If I could work with Grant on the business side, I’d rack up points like crazy—maybe even break into the top ten. Instead, I’m stuck playing Cupid for a guy who’d rather balance the books than go on a date. Story of my life.

Grant paused for a moment, then wrote a note on the Duluth mayor’s report—

I grant your son the name "Steel."

Meaning: "A heart as tough as steel, a pillar of the community." He really didn’t mince words.

What do you think? I could almost hear him asking, like he wanted a second opinion.

Staring at the bold letters for "Steel," I couldn’t help it—I burst out laughing. "Pfft~" My laughter ricocheted around the room, sharp and totally unexpected, even to me.

"Who’s there!" Grant snapped, voice cutting through the air.

He shot to his feet, making the lamp flicker, shadows skittering across the walls. In the bright room, there was no answer—just silence, like the laughter had never happened. His eyes darted, searching for the source.

I sucked in a breath and shrank into the corner. Wait… can he actually hear me? This is way above my pay grade. Systems are only supposed to talk to their host—nobody else. Was I glitching, or is Grant just built different?

Grant stood there for a moment, then sat back down and resumed reading, like nothing had happened. I edged closer, keeping an eye on him. His expression didn’t change as he calmly scribbled red-ink comments on the reports.

I cleared my throat and tried: "Ahem."

Grant didn’t even flinch. Was it just a coincidence? I hovered near his shoulder, half-expecting him to jump again, but he didn’t even blink. Maybe I was imagining things.

I hopped over to the other side, right by his ear, and finally let loose what I’d been holding in forever.

"Grant, you big idiot!"

With a metallic clang, his blade flashed out! Grant pointed it straight at the air, the move so fast I barely registered the glint of steel before it stopped.

"I heard you," he said, voice low and certain.

I was so startled I toppled over, half-convinced I was about to lose my head. I looked up. The blade pointed east, but I was on the west side. From Grant’s confident tone, you’d think he could actually hit me. Bluff or not, my nonexistent heart skipped a beat.

"Come out!" Grant barked. "Or I’ll call someone!" His voice was steely, but underneath I caught a flicker of curiosity—maybe even excitement. Was he… enjoying this?

Okay, so he really can hear me. That changes everything. I’d blown my last points on that urn, so hiring another host was off the table. Time to go straight to the source. If I could get Grant to fall in love, maybe I could still save my review and bonus this year. Desperate times, desperate measures, right?

I rubbed my sore butt and got to my feet. "Don’t bother looking. You can’t see me." Might as well get that out of the way.

Grant narrowed his eyes, sneering. "What are you? Human or demon?" His voice was calm, but his grip on the blade was white-knuckled.

Without a host, if I wanted to talk directly to Grant, I needed an identity. Back in the day, people had a healthy respect for spirits and demons. But if I just made something up, Grant would see through it in a second. Best to mix a little truth with the lies—keep things mysterious.

I cleared my throat and put on my best ethereal voice. "Neither human nor demon." I tried to sound as otherworldly as possible, hoping to throw him off his game.

Grant clearly wasn’t buying it. "Not human or demon? Then you’re either a ghost or a god?" He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips, pure skepticism.

I pressed on, "Neither god nor ghost."

It wasn’t exactly a lie. I’m not from this world—I’m just a system. I don’t fit with humans, ghosts, gods, or demons. If anything, I’m the square peg in a round hole. Welcome to my life.

Grant’s interest was definitely piqued. "Neither human nor ghost, nor god nor demon, so what are you?" He leaned forward, watching the empty air like it might reveal my secret.

I circled the desk. "What I am isn’t important. What matters is, I’m here to help you." I let my voice echo, hoping to sound a little more impressive than I felt.