Consider Mr. Shi Huai’s wishes?
Ming Ruan found it a bit surreal. What wishes could a little fox possibly have?
But then again, even small animals were given formal names and respectfully addressed as “Mister.”
Looking at it this way, perhaps observing a small animal’s attitude was also part of interstellar etiquette and procedure.
Ming Ruan once again marveled at the cultural differences.
And at this moment, the ‘center of attention’ Shi Huai felt as if he had returned to his days dominating the entertainment industry. He understood best how to tug at an audience’s heartstrings.
Now, the fox slowly paced. First, he walked toward the Executor of District 7. Just as the man’s joy showed on his face, the fox circled him once, then made a feint toward Ming Ruan. Throughout, he watched the shifting expressions of the District 7 Executor with great amusement.
Would that face of Ming Ruan’s, which now looked considerably more agreeable to him, reveal those detestable expressions from the past again?
Panic? Pleading? Or feigned magnanimity, with malice brimming in his eyes?
Shi Huai circled Ming Ruan just as he had circled the District 7 Executor, only provocatively sticking a little closer.
He raised his head to look at Ming Ruan’s expression.
Shi Huai’s paw, raised mid-air, froze. This person! What kind of expression was that!
Ming Ruan was forcefully suppressing the urge to crouch down and ruffle the fox’s fur, but he couldn’t control his blissfully narrowed eyes.
He got brushed up against! So cute!
It felt just like being blessed by a stray cat on the street!
Ming Ruan couldn’t hold back any longer. He was just about to crouch down and pet him a few times when he saw the little fox violently shake its fur and whoosh—dart away from his feet, putting great distance between them.
The Adjudicator looked over. “Mr. Shi Huai.”
Only then did Shi Huai stop his fleeing steps. He bowed toward the Adjudicator, then walked back to Ming Ruan’s side again.
He sat down.
And with that, the certification ended.
The Adjudicator nodded.
Instantly, the Executor of District 7 clenched his cane, his face full of humiliation. The other Executors offered their applause, interspersed with comments like: “Youthful and talented.” “Let us exchange work in the future; please guide us.” And so on and so forth.
Ming Ruan sighed inwardly, feeling that he truly couldn’t keep up with the thought processes of interstellar people.
How did they demand some certification, and how did it end so perfunctorily?
Just let him go home and cook for the little fox. For today’s lunch staple, should he use fish paste or chicken paste?
The Adjudicator disliked people scrambling to curry favor. Everyone present knew this. Seeing this matter settled, they took their leave one by one.
They only unanimously gave the District 7 Executor the cold shoulder.
And the District 7 Executor glared hatefully at Ming Ruan for a long while more before flicking his sleeves and leaving.
After bidding farewell to the Adjudicator, Zhuo Yunqi proactively walked over to Ming Ruan, wanting to head back with him.
But just then, the Adjudicator—who had remained silent the entire time before—said: “Please wait a moment.”
The sound of shoe soles softly meeting the floor echoed steadily with each step. The Adjudicator walked up before Ming Ruan and Zhuo Yunqi.
To be precise, before Ming Ruan.
Zhuo Yunqi hurriedly backed away, giving them space.
The Adjudicator’s dark-gold eyes stared unblinkingly at Ming Ruan. “Ming Ruan. Do you have any other arrangements this noon?”
In the distance, the many footsteps that hadn’t yet faded all audibly paused in unison, slowing down.
“Um… Make lunch for the little fox?” Ming Ruan said, slightly troubled.
They’d left early this morning. The little fox already hadn’t eaten well. Plus, all those examinations just now—Ming Ruan was genuinely afraid he’d be hungry.
How could he let a customer go hungry!
“That is no concern. Mr. Shi Huai’s meal will be arranged for by my staff,” the Adjudicator stated. “I would like to invite you to have lunch with me today.”
The footsteps in the distance vanished entirely.
A group of people, even disregarding decorum, turned back in shock.
Instantly, gasps rose and fell throughout the hall.
Everyone tightly held their breath, terrified that an impolite shriek might burst forth!
What had they just heard?!
Ming Ruan inexplicably felt a flush of heat rise within him. Maybe it was nerves. He coughed slightly. “N-no problem?”
Huh? What… what invitation to lunch? What a strange way of phrasing it! Interstellar people sure talked oddly!
Ming Ruan didn’t mean anything else by it. He was just nervous. Who wouldn’t be nervous eating with the boss?!
“Please.” The Adjudicator paid no heed to the others’ reactions and walked straight off.
Two researchers stepped forward from the side: “Mr. Shi Huai, please come with us this way for your meal.”
The little fox walked away, turning his head back every few steps. Ming Ruan could actually read a hesitant, wanting-to-speak expression on a fox’s face.
The Adjudicator took fast, long strides and was about to disappear around a corner. Ming Ruan hurriedly jogged to catch up.
The dining location was within the Research Institute itself.
In a dining hall with minimalist but exquisitely crafted décor, only the Adjudicator and Ming Ruan sat.
The table was set with an array of delicate dishes: green vegetables curled into little balls on small saucers, a few slices of meat with a crisp orange-red skin, and even more exquisitely beautiful desserts and beverages. Artfully arranged, they filled the entire table.
Ming Ruan admired the authentic interstellar cuisine for a moment, then sat upright, waiting for the boss to speak.
Who actually went out to eat with the boss just to eat?
The Adjudicator was also sitting perfectly upright.
The two remained motionless for a long time.
A very, very long time later.
The Adjudicator’s voice held a trace of slight puzzlement. “Why are you not eating?”
“Huh?” Ming Ruan, who had been spacing out slightly, jolted in surprise and hurriedly picked up his chopsticks, taking a piece of that crispy-skinned meat he’d been so curious about.
The skin was thin and crisp, the sauce rich and aromatic, and the meat’s own flavor was not overwhelmed by the seasoning in the slightest.
Ming Ruan swallowed it in one bite before belatedly realizing: how could he start eating before the boss?!
Ming Ruan politely offered, “Please, help yourself?”
The Adjudicator furrowed his brow almost imperceptibly. He stared at the dishes on the table and picked up a single piece with his chopsticks.
After that, the two didn’t exchange another word until Ming Ruan had polished off every last small plate on the table.
Amidst Ming Ruan’s mild embarrassment, robots came and cleared away the small dishes.
The Adjudicator’s hands, clad in black gloves, were folded together, resting on the edge of the table. “Executor of District 12. Do you have the intention to become a full member?”
Now the real business began!
Ming Ruan struggled to pull himself out of the post-meal drowsiness threatening to engulf him, forcing his brain to start turning. “Of course!”
“Good.” The Adjudicator nodded. He swiped outward on his Light Brain with his middle and index fingers, sending a system over to Ming Ruan’s Light Brain.
“This is the Executor Regularization Assessment Point System. The contributions you make during your probationary period—including, but not limited to, rescuing Mr. Xie Gewen and locating Mr. Shi Huai—will be automatically converted into points and recorded in the system. If your points meet the standard before your probationary period ends, you will be made a full member.”
“Alright! Got it! I’ll look at it when I get back. Thank you, Boss!” Ming Ruan nodded vigorously.
Hearing the unfamiliar and somewhat casual address ‘Boss,’ the Adjudicator paused for a beat before continuing. “There is a matter I mentioned earlier that I wished to request your assistance with. This, of course, will also count toward your regularization points.”
It was finally coming!
Ming Ruan tensed inwardly. “Please, Boss, tell me!”
The Adjudicator looked into Ming Ruan’s eyes, watching for the slightest shift in expression. “There is a tiger. I hope you can take care of him for a few days.”
What?! A tiger! Take care of him for a few days!
He was going to get to pet a tiger!!
Ming Ruan’s entire being just instantly lit up, like a little star glowing brightly. “Really?! When will he be sent over?”
The Adjudicator looked at Ming Ruan silently for a few seconds, then averted his gaze. “In a few days’ time. You will be notified in advance.”
Why did it have to be a few days?!
Well, that was fine too. He’d first cram some knowledge on how to care for tigers!
Thinking of this, Ming Ruan suddenly remembered something. “Oh, right. The little fox… Shi Huai. Is he going to be released back into District 7?”
No need for him to make lunch anymore. That earlier moment might have been their final farewell.
Ming Ruan suddenly felt a fluster of panic. He’d forgotten to say a proper goodbye!
The Adjudicator remained as calm as still water. “Mr. Shi Huai chose you. You will need to continue looking after him.”
This was not a question consulting Ming Ruan’s wishes.
As direct subordinates of the Adjudicator, Executors could be considered high-ranking and influential. Moreover, when ordinary citizens dared not make contact with beastmen, Executors needed to closely assist beastmen at all times. This was an important and noble position.
However, in some people’s eyes, Executors were not as glamorous as they appeared to outsiders. Essentially, they were professionals providing services for the beastmen within the Sanatorium Zone 12. Inside the Sanatorium, a beastman’s will always superseded the Executor’s.
And so, some people tried every trick to climb into the Executor position, attempting to profit from it, yet they were unwilling to shoulder even a single ounce of an Executor’s responsibility. For example, that noble from District 7 who leveraged Royal Family connections.
Some people were too arrogant, forgetting whose territory this was.
The Adjudicator had so readily agreed to this certification precisely to serve as a warning to that group led by District 7.
Before he thoroughly replaced them, they had to restrain themselves.
He believed they would certainly understand his meaning.
A surprised voice from the youth reached his ears: “Really?! That’s great! Thank you, Boss! So… taking care of both the tiger and the fox at the same time won’t be a problem? I mean…”
The Adjudicator drew back his scattered thoughts, refocusing his gaze on the youth before him.
Whatever the reason, this one was indeed different from the other Executors.
He seemed to care about nothing else but purely, earnestly liking those animal forms.
“The guests within the Sanatorium will not attack each other.” The Adjudicator’s words dispelled Ming Ruan’s only remaining hesitation.
Yay!!
Ming Ruan felt like he could do three thousand sit-ups on the spot and then run thirty laps around the planet.
Once he got back, he’d immediately look up if there were any guides on raising tigers in the interstellar era. Then he had to prepare fixed daily necessities, food, bathing and grooming supplies, a den, toys… none could be left behind for the little fox. He also had to work hard to accumulate regularization points! A happy life with the fluffballs couldn’t be ruined because he failed regularization!
Suddenly, he was incredibly busy!
Seeing Ming Ruan’s restlessness and eagerness, the Adjudicator didn’t keep him any longer. He ordered someone to escort Ming Ruan and Shi Huai back onto the Flying Sedan.
After Ming Ruan left, only the Adjudicator remained in the vast dining hall. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, scattering in dappled patterns. He retrieved a tube of Nutrient Solution from his Space Button. With a motion of his throat, he downed it all in one go.
Not every interstellar person liked eating those Restored Foods. And naturally, not everyone had the means to afford them either.
The Adjudicator ordinarily prioritized efficiency above all, never indulging in enjoyment. This meal today had been specially prepared for Ming Ruan.
His fingertips tapped lightly on his Light Brain, and a report appeared before him.
This was also Shi Huai’s physical examination report, but one he had not shared with the Executors.
This was a report related to mental state.
In the report, a curve representing overall status had been continuously falling, then stabilized and hovered at rock bottom. Until yesterday—when there was a highly abnormal, cliff-like sharp rise.
At the very bottom of the report, in the [Key Exclusion Factors] column, a name was written.
Ming Ruan.
Was it Ming Ruan?
The Adjudicator’s thumb gently rubbed against this name, his eyes betraying not the slightest ripple of emotion.
The sound of soft footsteps rang out. Someone stood behind him.
“We could directly ask him to cooperate with the research, Your Excellency, the Adjudicator.”
