Song Wuli really wanted to see the Goddess of Contracts’ intelligence and methods. Under his deliberate obstruction, how would that woman ensure history wasn’t changed?
He planned to give her a full day. If she still couldn’t recover it today, he would take the initiative to send the Gravity Orb to a place more convenient for recovery tomorrow.
This was his first formal contest with the Goddess of Contracts.
Both he and she were well aware of the situation; neither could hide from the other.
He wondered how the thief incident ended in the original plot.
The thief took the Gravity Orb, fled to the Red Subway, and was intercepted by a helper hired by the Goddess of Contracts, who then brought the orb to her?
If that were the case, then Song Wuli had essentially changed history.
Holding onto the thought of defeating the Goddess of Contracts—even if he was just lying to himself—Old Song seemed very happy and full of energy while working today.
Greta also noticed his good mood and came over to chat.
“Mr. Song, I wonder if you have a daughter?” Greta brought over a cup of coffee. She had learned how to order delivery and had clearly bought an extra cup for Old Song on purpose.
Faced with this question, Song Wuli was surprised and shook his head. “No, I’m single, unmarried, and childless.”
Why did Greta suddenly ask this? Old Song’s gaze shifted to her, and he noticed she was also very happy today, like a ball of sunshine, wearing a slight smile most of the time.
He also noticed her clothing. She was wearing long pants and a long-sleeved outfit with a collar that covered her neck.
Wasn’t it hot?
How strange. Were women creatures who could wear sweaters in the summer and miniskirts in the winter without being affected?
Old Song didn’t dwell on it; he just complained internally.
He couldn’t control what others wore.
Anyway, the air conditioning was on in the office, and it was quite cold, so wearing long sleeves and pants was somewhat normal.
Greta’s next sentence suddenly made Old Song break into a cold sweat. “I saw a girl a few days ago who looked a lot like you, Mr. Song. I thought she was your daughter.”
Huh? Was she talking about Yin Lin?
Could Greta have seen Yin Lin on TV and thought she looked like him? It was very possible. Many people knew that magical girls looked somewhat like their original forms. Although Yin Lin and Song Wuli were a bit special—their gender and age were poles apart—what if there was something similar? Like the eyes? The ears? The expression? In short, deny it first. This wasn’t enough to confirm his identity.
“Heh, I wish I had a daughter. Then I wouldn’t lack people to play games with online.” Song Wuli joked. His acting was decent, his tone was right, and his expression was passable—acting skills that could just barely graduate from a Film Academy.
A joking remark brushed off Greta’s equally joking-sounding comment.
It was like a clash between experts; neither knew if the other was joking or serious.
Greta glanced at Song Wuli’s backpack again, hesitated, but didn’t ask about it.
She returned to her station to continue working.
That morning, both of them were full of drive. The sound of high-speed typing made the others nearby break into a sweat.
There was an unwritten rule in the company: things wouldn’t be so serious during overtime.
Whether it was nightly overtime or holiday overtime, people generally weren’t that serious. Everyone just relaxed and worked while slacking off.
Old Song and Greta were being so serious that the others couldn’t help but get serious too.
Finally, noon arrived. Song Wuli went to find Qian Dehao. “Lunch together?”
Qian Dehao nodded.
Song Wuli asked again, “Do you know what’s up with Old Huang? I haven’t seen him again today.”
Qian Dehao looked around. Seeing no one nearby, he leaned into Old Song’s ear and said, “I heard Old Huang and the Director are on some secret mission. They’re often seen leaving together in pairs. Let’s talk about it in a bit.”
They took seats in the cafeteria, sitting close together side-by-side.
They continued the previous topic.
Qian Dehao spoke first. “I’ve been seeing them coming and going from the company together lately. They’re incredibly intimate. You know Old Huang was only promoted to assistant recently, right? He’s already getting along so well with the Director that it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call him her confidant.”
Song Wuli frowned and agreed, “True. And it was strange for Old Huang to be transferred to Director’s Assistant. I thought he’d become a supervisor first. I didn’t expect him to jump straight to Director’s Assistant.”
The position of Director’s Assistant was a bit odd.
One could directly hire someone from the outside and make them a Director’s Assistant in one step. It didn’t necessarily require experience or even ability.
Conversely, a team leader was usually someone who rose slowly from the grassroots; they weren’t usually hired directly into that role. Unless no one in the team was fit for the job, only then would they recruit externally.
Therefore, Huang Yijun being transferred directly from team leader to Director’s Assistant seemed a bit strange.
It was hard to say if it was a promotion or a demotion.
“You’re being so mysterious today. Do you have some other intel?” Song Wuli sensed Qian Dehao had something to say.
“Yeah.” Qian Dehao leaned in closer and looked around. After confirming no one was there, he whispered to Old Song, “Haven’t you noticed I haven’t mentioned the magical girl Yin Lin lately? I… I suspect Huang Yijun and the Director are… heh.”
“Huh?” Song Wuli exchanged a look with Qian Dehao. “Do you mean what I think you mean?”
“Yeah, exactly what you think.” Qian Dehao nodded firmly.
“I don’t believe it.”
“Well, I can’t help that. It’s just my guess anyway.”
“Let’s go check the Director’s office later,” Song Wuli made a very bold decision.
“What? No, no. I have a family. I’m not playing like that with you.” Qian Dehao refused flatly.
Sneaking into the Director’s office was far too bold.
If they were caught, they could lose their jobs.
Song Wuli didn’t care. He was single, had no girlfriend, and no family. As long as he was fed, he was fine.
Qian Dehao wasn’t that carefree. He had a family to support. Once he lost his job, he’d be finished.
Seeing that he couldn’t convince Old Qian, Song Wuli had to let it go and gave up for now.
The matter with the Director and Huang Yijun wasn’t serious enough to warrant a thorough investigation. They could do what they wanted. So what if they had a secret?
Unless their secret threatened him, there was no need to investigate.
After lunch, he returned to the office area to enjoy the air conditioning. The weather was getting hot, and he no longer wanted to sleep on the roof.
When he returned to his station, he felt like his backpack had been touched. Had its position moved? Or was it just an illusion?
He unzipped the backpack. This zipper pull was a new replacement; he had deliberately gone to a tailor shop to replace it with an old one.
He checked the contents. Nothing was missing.
It seemed it was an illusion. Who in this company would be bored enough to go through his backpack?
He went to the restroom and pulled the Gravity Orb out from his crotch. The thing already smelled a bit.
After all, it wasn’t just in his pants; it was right against his junk.
After finishing his business, he put the thing back in his crotch. It felt heavy inside.
He went back to the office to rest. He looked very smug along the way, wanting to see how the Goddess of Contracts could recover the Gravity Orb from his crotch.