"Second chances are given here, Mister Saotome," said the balding guy behind the counter. "Hence the name."
"How'd you know my name?" Ranma asked, feeling a brief flash of concern.
"Magic. Not the sort that you're used to running into, which is Chaos Magic or Wild Magic." The clerk made an idle gesture. "Chaos Magic is fairly strong, but rarely useful. Order Magic is crafting for a purpose. Entirely different thing."
"So can you cure Jusenkyo curses?" Ranma inevitably asked.
"Not with a gesture and word of power," said the clerk. "In order to cure that curse, you'd have to come back after major lifestyle changes. You've got too much chaos and too little discipline."
"Yeah, name one 'chaos' thingie," demanded Ranma.
"How many fiancees do you have? How many rivals? How often do strange people attack you for no reason? Are you a practitioner of a martial art developed by one of the world's most perverted old men? Will that do as a start?" The clerk asked in a kind voice.
"I just said one," grumbled Ranma. "It ain't like I got any control over any of that."
"Saotome? Don't let other people force you to be a victim. You are ultimately responsible for one person - you. If you choose to let other people control your life, if you let their demands force you into a role, then that is your choice and that is why you are in the life that you are."
"It ain't that easy to just turn my back on everyone, ya know. Hmph. You seem to know a lot about me," noted Ranma. "More of this 'Order Magic' stuff?"
The clerk nodded.
"So what kind of second chances do ya sell here?" Ranma gestured to encompass the store.
"As I said a vast many things," said the clerk. "I wander the multiverse. Often people like yourself get into situations far beyond their control and can't find their way out. They feel trapped in a narrow path without options, blinded by experiences so that they cannot even see when opportunity beckons."
The clerk reached over and pulled down a book. "In some cases they truly were trapped in an unhappy fate and simply didn't have the resources necessary to dig themselves out. Some even realized, too late alas, that they'd missed their exit and were heading towards doom."
"Like, for example?" Ranma wanted to know how anyone could have it worse than he did.
"For example," said the clerk, opening the book.
Ranma looked within and saw:
She had done the best she could, fought as well as was humanly possible.Yet here she was, dying in a pool of her own blood. She could hear the radio messages echoing down the corridor. Shinji had frozen up. Even after she had taken the bullet for him, after looking into his eyes as she felt herself dying, after getting him to that damn Eva. He was wimping out.
They, the human race, were doomed. She didn't even know all the names of the factions or how they were arrayed, only that humanity would be the loser.
Damn. If she'd only had a chance but she'd never seen the conspiracies around her until too late.
Rei? Why was she glowing?
No! The Angel Of Death!
Her body flowing, melting, turned to primordial red goo that flowed and joined the other streams.
WHOwasscreaming?!ITwasHERandTHEMandEVERYONE? THEYwereALLOneANDtheyhad nomouthbuttherewas noneedbecauseeveryonewas one.TherewasnothingbutaSCREAMandnomore US or THEM just pulsingmadnessandonandon
Ranma felt a jar as the book was closed and he was suddenly disengaged from the images and thoughts he'd been immersed in. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
The clerk held up something that looked like one of those temporary tattoos you can get out of a vending machine. "A woman who carried her own self-destructive behavior, but still tried to do the right thing at the end. Alas, she failed. If I find someone, I have her anchor here. She would become a genie servant to the person who wore her tattoo, but frankly that is something she needs too."
"She needs to become a genie?" Ranma asked. Though that was still better than what he'd just seen in that book.
"She needs directions, she needs to cruise along with someone else in command, she needs penance," said the clerk. "Don't underestimate such things. She failed badly and something like this would allow her to heal. Besides, there are a few caveats on the 'slave of the lamp' deal even when there's a lamp involved. At least when it comes from my shop. She gets Saturdays off for one thing. No wishes though. Different sort of genie altogether."
"Uh huh, and this other stuff?" Ranma asked.
"Order Magic," admitted the clerk. "Things which could alter your life for the better, make things worse, or just different. All of which has the chance to give a better life to the person who uses it. Somewhat better odds than you'd get out of the typical self-help section."
"Can I send Ryoga here?" Ranma asked, thinking of all the times he'd been ranting about seeing hell. Maybe the clerk could show him that book.
"Perhaps," said the clerk.
"Okay, well then I guess," began Ranma, "I'll
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