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Now reading: Chapter 210: SPECIAL - : The match mix from The Ugly Duckling Of The Tiger Tribe, a Fantasy novel by Authorfredah.

(So, this is a special Chapter I initially had to commorate our 200 leap but I’ll post it here. I hope you guys aren’t bored with it. It’s just a pivot to help take a break from rbe primal world for a bit. The setting is an alternate modern world.)

I had rehearsed this mont in my head at least five tis.

’Sit straight. Don’t fidget. Smile, but not too much. If he’s awkward, be kind. If he’s boring, finish the coffee and leave politely.’ I told myself. It sounded... Easy.

I sat by the café window, fingers wrapped tightly around a warm mug, and my phone face down on the table.

The dating app had promised high compatibility, verified profiles, and—most importantly—handso n. After being single for so long, I had finally decided to give love a chance.

I’d chosen one and thankfully, he’d matched back.

The app had handled the rest—ti, place, and address sent automatically. All I had to do was wait.

And wait I did. Until a shadow fell over my table, blocking the afternoon sun.

"Arinya?" a man asked.

I looked up, my breath hitching. He was tall and had these broad shoulders. A jawline so sharp it looked like it was sculpted from marble. He looked like he walked off an athletic track and straight into a cologne comrcial. Definitely handso.

But... not the guy from the photo.

"Yes?" I answered cautiously.

"I’m your match," he said with a confident, blinding smile. He pulled out the chair opposite before I could even process a hello, settling in as if it were already decided.

I blinked, my mind racing with confusion. "I’m sorry, I think there’s a—"

"Hello, you’re Ms. Arinya, right?"

Another voice cut in, and I felt my neck practically snap as I turned.

A second man stood there. This one had softer, more elegant features. He was wearing a crisp button-down and a white coat over his shoulders, wearing a pair of glasses that made him look incredibly intelligent—like a doctor who could diagnose my racing heart just by looking at . He had long, silky silver hair tied back neatly. He held up his phone, the app open to my profile.

"My app says this is the place," he said, his voice polite but firm.

Before I could even open my mouth to explain, a third chair scraped against the floor.

"Wow," a third man drawled, sounding way too amused for the situation. "This is a disaster. I love it."

I slowly lifted my gaze, my head starting to thrum with a dull ache.

The third man was leaning casually against the table. He had dark, ssy hair and—my eyes widened—two tiny dot piercings right under his right eye. He looked like trouble. The kind of trouble that eats your heart for breakfast and asks for seconds.

He didn’t look surprised; he looked like he was watching a movie he’d already seen the ending of.

"Let guess," he said, his dark eyes locked onto mine. "You’re here for the blind date too?"

Too? What does that an?

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Then exhaled sharply, the sheer ridiculousness of the mont hitting .

"Okay. No. This—this is not right."

I grabbed my phone, flipping it over, my fingers flying across the screen in search of the app. My heart thudded against my ribs as I refreshed the app once, and then twice, and on the third ti, a notification popped up, glowing like a neon sign of my misfortune:

> [SYSTEM ERROR] We’re sorry! Due to a technical glitch, your date invitation was sent to multiple compatible matches. We are working to resolve this.

I stared at the screen. "...Multiple?" I whispered.

The athlete—Fenric—frowned, his brows knitting together. "You’re saying the app sent the sa address to all of us?"

The doctor—Damar—adjusted his glasses, peering at my screen. "That would explain why our compatibility scores were all at ninety-nine percent. It’s a database overlap."

I wanted to crawl under the table and never co out. "I didn’t an for this to happen," I said quickly, my face burning with mortification. "I only picked one person. I swear I’m not... a player."

The café felt way too bright. I could feel people staring at , sitting here with three gorgeous n, as if I were the lead in so twisted reality show.

"I’m really sorry," I added, grabbing my bag. "I’ll just... I’ll leave you guys to it. I’ll figure this out later."

I stood halfway, ready to flee into the street.

"Hey," the dark-haired one—Noah—said calmly.

His voice wasn’t loud, but it had this grounding weight to it that made my legs freeze. I stayed hovering, half-off my chair.

He t my eyes, his expression relaxed, almost reassuring. He glanced at the athlete and the doctor before returning his attention to . "Look. The app ssed up. Not you."

I hesitated, my heart still fluttering.

"And," he added, a slight, perverted smirk tugging at his lips as his gaze traveled down my outfit and back up, "...we’re already here so why back out?"

I studied him. There was sothing about him... steady, unbothered, like he was the eye of the storm.

I looked at the athlete, Fenric, who was still gripping the back of his chair, and then at the doctor, Damar, who was watching with a steady, clinical intensity through his lenses. I didn’t know what they thought of this ss. Were they annoyed? Offended?

Anyone would be offended by this situation, but were they?

"Um," I pursed my glossy pink lips, feeling the weight of their combined gaze, before finally freeing them to speak. "Are you two... okay with this? I an, it’s a total mistake. I don’t want to hold you here if you’re uncomfortable."

"I don’t walk away from a challenge," Fenric said imdiately, his voice dropping into a husky register as he sat down properly. "Besides, I’ve already seen you. Leaving now would be a loss."

My heart did a little skip. That was a complint, right?

Damar pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his expression softening into sothing strangely sincere.

"From a statistical standpoint, a system error bringing four compatible people to the sa coordinates is an anomaly. I’d like to see where that leads. I’m okay with staying."

I looked back at Noah, who was still wearing that "I-know-sothing-you-don’t" smirk.

’Gosh, what am I doing?’ I thought, my pulse jumping in my throat. ’Is this really alright?’

But they all ca here for the sa reason.

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