Let's get one thing absolutely clear: I did not intend to become legally categorized as a vegetable.
It started innocently enough. A little soul fermentation here. A sentient turnip mentor there. A harmless ritual meant to stabilize my Echo magic, involving a ceremonial salt bath and a brief period of pickling. You know, classic Tuesday.
"The brine binds the fractured threads of your soul," Turnip Sage Urrika had said, in what I now recognize as the worst sales pitch in magical history. "Your identity must marinate in what it fears most."
Apparently what I fear most is accountability.
And also becoming a garnish.
Spoon sat on the edge of my ceremonial barrel, stirring the brine with a ladle that absolutely was not necessary for magical integrity and entirely for emotional torment.
"This is the best moment of my un-life," he declared. "I always knew you were part salad."
"I can't feel my toes," I said.
"You haven't had toes since chapter 53. Those were timeline echoes."
Fair point.
Belladonna hovered by the door, arms crossed, looking far too entertained for someone watching their maybe-boyfriend soul-pickle himself.
"He looks like an emotionally compromised cucumber," she murmured to Mirielle.
"More like an overbrined zucchini," Mirielle replied.
"Excuse me," I said, brine lapping dangerously close to my collarbone, "this is a sacred Echo rite and I will not be mocked by vegetables who haven't achieved sentience."
"You're literally stewing in your own existential dread," said Seraphina. "Even the brine is judging you."
The brine was bubbling ominously.
System Notification:
[ALERT: Reclassification pending. Echo Vessel Kael is undergoing Brined Soul Stabilization. Legal status temporarily set to PICKLED ENTITY.]
[ERROR: Pickles are not eligible for duel-based sovereignty.]
"WHAT?!" I shrieked, trying to leap from the barrel but slipping and going full aquatic.
Fluffernox batted at my floating hair from the rim like I was a drowning seaweed noodle.
"If I'm not eligible for duels, I can't defend my Echo status!" I gasped.
"Or inherit lands," Belladonna added helpfully.
"Or marry," said Mirielle.
"Or vote," said Seraphina.
"Wait, we vote?" I asked.
Spoon nodded solemnly. "Every 100 chapters."
The Pickle Tribunal convened by dinner.
Yes. That's a sentence I just wrote.
A group of robed System agents, most of whom looked like disgruntled food critics, stood around the now-drained barrel, eyeing me like I was an expired jar of destiny.
One sniffed me.
"Dill-forward," he said. "Hints of legacy trauma."
"Do I need a lawyer?" I whispered.
"Your Spoon is already registered as your magical advocate," one of them replied.
I wept inside.
Spoon cleared his non-throat. "Ladies, gentlemen, and morally ambiguous fungi of the Tribunal, my client is not a pickle. He is a soul-bound anomaly temporarily fermented for metaphysical purposes."
"Objection," one agent said. "He smells like sandwich topping."
"So does fate!" Spoon roared.
It was actually kind of inspiring until he tripped on a ceremonial napkin.
Eventually, after three more soul-sniffs, an interpretive dance trial, and one impromptu brine reading (which basically just said lol good luck), the System buzzed.
System Notification:
[Echo Vessel Kael is hereby reclassified as:
85% Humanoid Anomaly,
10% Glitch Entity,
5% Brined Construct.]
[Legal Picklehood: Deferred. Duel Eligibility: Restored.]
I stood, soggy and triumphant.
"Congratulations," Belladonna said, deadpan. "You're legally a moist metaphor."
Mirielle handed me a towel and a pickle jar label that said BEST IF EXISTED BY YESTERDAY.
"I'm framing this," I told her.
She smiled. "I already did."
That night, I lay on my cot, still vaguely marinating in saltwater trauma, and stared at the Mask of Echo as it pulsed faintly from the shrine wall.
It whispered something I couldn't quite hear.
Spoon snored from the corner. Fluffernox curled on my chest, purring.
"You think I can do this?" I asked the ceiling.
It did not answer.
But the System did.
System Notification:
[Echo Status: Stable (for now). Prophecy Alignment: 43%. Soul Fracture: Salt-sealed. Confidence Level: Statistically Impossible.]
Which, for me, is basically an endorsement.
Next Time on Yes, I Was Reborn. No, I Don't Want a Harem. Stop Looking at Me Like That:
Chapter 85 – "Spoon Joins a Cult (Again)"
A new Echo faction wants to recruit Kael. Spoon signs up instead. Belladonna threatens diplomatic spoonicide. Mirielle starts a chant. Fluffernox becomes a minor deity. Chaos, obviously, ensues.