Chapter 13

Hastur didn’t particularly like spending time around the Boss. It wasn’t because the Boss was giving him a hard time or anything like that. The real issue was that every time he got close to the Boss, his abilities suffered some degree of interference.

Take right now, for example. He could smell the thick stench of lies hanging in the air, but he couldn’t pinpoint who it was coming from. The discomfort was like having a human cold with a completely stuffy nose.

He didn’t absolutely need to identify the liar. After all, everyone at the company lived in a sea of lies every single day. There was no point measuring who lied more and who lied less. Still, being able to sniff them out but too lazy to bother was entirely different from being interfered with and rendered incapable.

Determined to wrap things up quickly, Hastur swiftly floated out through the entrance of the assaulted mall.

When he came to a stop in front of the Boss, he sensed a gaze projecting from that mosaic silhouette, scanning him from head to toe.

“You look more spirited than I imagined. It makes this visit of mine seem a little superfluous.”

The Boss’s tone was utterly flat, giving no hint whether he was pleased or displeased about Hastur’s spirited state.

“I heard the Research Center is counting on a holographic game to satisfy your Nesting Desire. I never thought it was a good idea to begin with. I’m here today to tell you that even if you nest in reality, the company can cover any losses. But judging from the current situation, your experience in the game has been pretty decent?”

—Far more than decent. He was even starting to forget about work altogether. But he couldn’t exactly say that in front of the Boss.

Hastur gave a vague reply. “It’s alright.”

The Boss’s silhouette gave him a brief nod.

“If you decide later that it’s not working out, you can always go back to nesting in reality. My promise stands forever.”

“As long as no one dies, the Finance Department can shoulder any damage you cause.”

Hastur fell silent. “…”

It was a good thing he hadn’t said that in front of the Finance Department. Otherwise, they might have put on a collective show of jumping off the roof right then and there.

The Boss casually dropped those words that could have made the entire Finance Department implode on the spot, then pulled a thick stack of files from his coat pocket.

“There’s also the matter of those commercial spies from last time.”

Hastur paused for a moment before realizing the Boss was referring to the betrayers he’d polluted into chunks of meat—still strung up in the lair to this day.

The Boss handed the files over to Hastur. “For that group to infiltrate all the way to your side, lurk among your colleagues for so long, and even succeed in attempting to assassinate you—regardless of the outcome—this security breach falls squarely under Lv Zhucao’s negligence.”

“Up until today, Lv Zhucao has been handling all your affairs single-handedly. But with the large staff under him, he might not have enough bandwidth to look after you properly.”

“I’ve handpicked a new batch of candidates at headquarters. They have more free time on their hands, and their abilities are no weaker than Lv Zhucao’s. If you need them, you can select anyone from these files who catches your eye. He—or they—can share responsibility for you alongside Lv Zhucao.”

Lv Zhucao’s face visibly darkened. “Are you planning to assign more personnel to monitor Hastur?”

“It’s for his care,” the Boss corrected.

His tone remained as even as ever, showing no sign of irritation at the question. Sometimes Hastur even suspected that Lv Zhucao’s own good temper had rubbed off from the Boss.

“This isn’t mandatory. As I said, it’s ‘if Hastur needs it.'”

“Hastur has full authority to accept or decline. I’m simply offering him an option to consider.”

“I don’t need it,” Hastur said. He ignored the pointed look Lv Zhucao shot his way and refused outright.

Who in their right mind would voluntarily add more guardians to their life? He barely had enough time for work and gaming as it was. A few extra overseers would mean wasting several times more time on small talk. How was he supposed to upgrade… or awaken?

It would be far better to just send him back to work quickly, lest the case investigation drag on and force overtime that night.

The Boss tilted his head thoughtfully. “Since you don’t want any of that, how about some time off?”

“?”

Hastur could have sworn he heard a nightingale singing.

~~~

He had no idea what had gotten into the Boss—what strange impulse had prompted him to offer an employee vacation time unprompted—but a free half-day off was a free half-day off. He wasn’t about to turn it down. As Hastur left the investigation site, he could practically feel the jealous stares from his colleagues burning into his back.

He returned to his lair with a few lingering questions, logged into the game, and found his energy levels still brimming far beyond the norm.

That doesn’t mean sleep is actually a good thing.

A warning voice bubbled up from within.

Compared to mere comfort, getting stronger is far more important. Think about it—those six hours. Without sleeping, how many tasks could you complete?

Objectively speaking, the argument made sense. Subjectively, though, last night’s sleep had felt incomparably blissful.

Still, with no immediate rematch against G8273 on the horizon, there was no point dwelling on it now.

The Black Lake login preview skipped by quickly, and the game screen loaded successfully.

【September 31st · 2:00 p.m. · Phoenix District · Orphanage】

The moment Hastur opened his eyes, he yanked the desk phone over and dialed Detective Dustin’s number to secure the final chunk of construction funds.

“Ring… ring…”

The line rang for ages before cutting to a dead tone.

Hastur puzzled over it for a moment, figuring the detective must be tied up with other duties. He set the receiver down and floated toward Finnian’s dorm room.

Ever since Finnian had officially come on board, the orphanage’s main hangout spot had shifted from the common hall to his room. That was mostly because Ithaqua was always dropping by to chat with Finnian, so Hastur ended up heading there no matter who he was looking for.

But things were different today. When Hastur pushed open the door, he found Ithaqua alone, sprawled by the window as he goofed around piling up a snowman. No sign of Finnian. “Where’s our chef?”

Where was his top point producer?

Ithaqua happily plopped a felt hat onto one of the smaller snowmen, blissfully unaware that his carefree, study-free days were about to come to an end.

“Finnian went to see a doctor. His cybernetic body got wrecked last night, remember? He said he was heading to the Delirium District. There’s a cybernetic surgeon there he really trusts—the same one who installed his mechanical heart. The doc can swap in a new body for him.”

The phone started ringing from downstairs. Hastur didn’t have time to question whether a guy like Finnian—who’d already been stabbed in the back by a trusted brother—could really afford to trust a doctor. He hurried down to answer what was probably the bounty money… no, Detective Dustin’s call.

“Hello? H… Dean?” The line was noisy on the other end, as if Dustin had just stepped out of some crowded conference room. “Sorry I missed your earlier call. I was in the middle of a hearing—my hearing.”

Hastur caught the emphasis in his voice. “They found out you blew up the signal tower?”

“…No!” Dustin must have ducked into an empty room; the background noise faded to quiet. “It’s a promotion. The station’s debating whether to bump me up. They want to turn me into their star detective—the guy who ‘took down the entire Zane Gang in a single night’!”

That was more surprising than expected. Hastur considered it rationally for a moment.

“They’re probably just looking to polish their own records. Should be good news for you, right? I doubt Finnian would care about a little thing like that.”

Dustin was practically a part-time employee at this point. He wondered if the detective’s promotions or arrests would earn him any Freedom Points from the System.

Hastur thought about it with some anticipation.

Dustin had no clue what schemes were running through Hastur’s mind. He drew a deep breath, then let it out in a defeated sigh.

“I just think it’s… ugly. So ugly.”

“Normally, they dodge anything remotely risky, terrified of getting burned. Now there’s a scrap of credit to go around, and they swarm like sharks in a feeding frenzy. This isn’t the police force I always dreamed of joining.”

Hastur nearly blurted out, “Then kick them all aside and take the top spot yourself.” But considering how upright the detective was, he swallowed the words and changed the subject instead.

“That’s not something you can control anyway. Better focus on the matters at hand—like my bounty money? And the visit to Old Neil?”

The bounty was the real priority, of course.

He couldn’t wait to get his hands on that steady point income!

Detective Dustin took another deep breath and murmured, “You’re right. You’re right, H.J. Wait for me at the orphanage. I’ll bring the bounty over, and then we can head to Old Neil’s together.”

~~~

Detective Dustin arrived quickly, apparently because the precinct had assigned him a brand-new patrol car.

Hastur accepted the bounty money while consoling the still fuming and downcast detective. He then pulled up the construction interface and selected the [Basic Classroom Set].

In the blink of an eye, the school building—which Hastur had previously sealed off—underwent a massive transformation.

The original single-story structure, seven meters tall, had been divided into three floors, linked by a central spiral staircase.

The first floor housed the physics, chemistry, biology, and literature classrooms. The second floor contained the crafts workshops and hacking classes.

The third floor was split in two as well: one half a simple performance stage, the other a padded mini dojo for martial training.

With great solemnity, Hastur added a front door to the first floor of his point-generating school and declared the project complete—

【Your school is still short one teacher before it can officially open!】

The jubilant fluctuations of the yellow robe ground to a halt. “…”

A teacher? Where was he supposed to find one right now? Why hadn’t the system mentioned this earlier!

Hastur flipped through the task interface frantically until he finally spotted a small option tucked away in the corner: 【Available Slots】.

He tapped it, and a list popped up with three names:

【Dean: Lacks professional knowledge in any subject. Cannot be appointed (not selectable)

Dustin: Holds professor qualifications in combat arts (no free time, not selectable)

Finnian: Holds professor qualifications in physics, chemistry, biology, and literature; crafts and performance; combat arts and basic hacker knowledge (selectable)】

Hastur: “……”

Finnian! The eternal god!

With lightning speed, he dragged Finnian into the teacher roster. The next instant, the system chimed with a pleasant ding-dong:

【Task: Basic Construction One (Completed)】

【Task Reward: 5 Freedom Points.

Note: Based on the current construction level, the school will continuously produce 0.05 Freedom Points every hour.】

…Talk about stingy production rates.

Hastur did a quick calculation in his head. At 0.05 per hour, that came out to just over 1.2 Freedom Points a day.

It didn’t seem like much, but this was only the most basic classroom package, after all. Once he had the funds to upgrade, the output would surely ramp up.

He adjusted his mindset in short order and turned to Dustin. “Where do we go to check on Old Neil? His place? The gang’s hideout?”

“No, Joey Street.” Dustin craned his head into the new school, peering around in shocked fascination. “I got in touch with him on the way over. Old Neil slipped out early last night to get brain core removal surgeries done for his men as fast as possible—before they could be controlled again.”

He pulled his head back and fished the car keys from his pocket. He was just about to hit the button, letting Hastur hear the beefy honk of his shiny new ride—when a horn blared twice from the car parked outside the grounds.

Dustin: “?”

Once bitten, twice shy. His brand-new car lost all its shine in an instant.

Dustin scrounged up a bicycle with a back seat from somewhere nearby. Under Hastur’s incredulous stare, he swung a leg over the front and patted the rear seat. “I’ll pedal. Won’t tire you out.”

Hastur couldn’t help glancing once more at the respectable, gleaming patrol car parked right beside them.

Was it the patrol car—possibly harboring enemies—or the bike’s embarrassing back seat? A tough choice.

Hastur went with option C. The Yellow Robe knocked on the patrol car’s hood. “Beat it.”

The patrol car didn’t budge. Instead, only the rear door swung slowly open, like a poised gentleman extending a discreet invitation.

Dustin let out a pained groan. Clearly, he couldn’t stomach the idea that his freshly acquired car hadn’t even had a chance to warm up before falling into enemy hands—and now it was probably toast.

After a moment of puzzled consideration, Hastur turned toward the distraught Dustin.

“What’s so special about Joey Street? If G8273 really wants to see Old Neil, he could do it anytime, anywhere. No need to come harass us specially.”

The patrol car gave another lazy honk, as if protesting the undignified word “harass.”

Dustin clutched his head and wailed, “Why the hell did the bureau install a smart system in this damn car? Why didn’t anyone warn me ahead of time!” He looked up, thoroughly dejected, and explained, “A ton of middlemen hole up on Joey Street—you know, the types who broker big scores like robberies and heists. They don’t want hackers eavesdropping on their deals, so huge chunks of Joey Street are signal dead zones. That’s why Old Neil picked it for his crew’s surgeries.”

Hastur got it now. He eyed the patrol car, its door still open in silent invitation. “So you want a lift from us?”

He rapped leisurely on the hood, like some high-and-mighty lord giving a beggar’s cheek a patronizing pat. “What’s in it for me?”