In just a short time, all twenty-some maids had been assigned tasks by Nán Gōng Yún—none were left idle. Even she herself began cleaning up.
Wú Tóng, seeing everyone else busy at work while he had nothing to do, felt a bit awkward and stepped forward to help the women with their tasks.
...
Even though the maids were all professionals, skilled at tidying and organizing, the treehouse was simply too large. Despite twenty-two people working, they were still swamped.
By the time night fell, shrouding the earth in darkness—
With the crescent moon hanging high in the sky and stars twinkling overhead—
The group finally finished cleaning the entire treehouse. Exhausted, the women, seeing how late it was, naturally abandoned any thought of touring the academy further. They found their respective rooms and went straight to bed.
Wú Tóng did the same. Though not particularly tired, he followed their lead and picked a room on the tenth floor to lie down.
Only after settling into bed did it hit him—
Wait, this isn't right.
Didn't I vow to be a lazy bum? Why am I working again?
Wú Tóng pondered for a long while before sighing at the thought of his delicate, hardworking maids.
Ah, forget it. I'm just too good of a boss. With my personality, I'll never be a true capitalist.
Sigh…
—
Dammit, I can't sleep.
After lying still with his eyes closed for a while, Wú Tóng opened them again, his dark pupils clear and utterly devoid of drowsiness.
The frustration of wanting to sleep but being unable to was truly maddening.
Suddenly, he grew curious—what were those silly group chat friends up to?
With that thought, he opened the chat.
...
Inside the Dimensional Chat Group:
Dragon King Spits Water: After days of negotiations, I've finally joined the "Relevant Department."
Dragon King Spits Water: Folks, I'm officially a government employee now.
Dragon King Spits Water: March 7th giggling.jpg.
Camera Girl: …
March 7th could only sigh. The joys and sorrows of others were not her own—forgive her for failing to empathize.
Well, after days of being bombarded with memes, the little March had finally grown accustomed to her face being turned into a sticker.
A happy ending, truly.
Truth-Seeker: Well, congratulations then.
Truth-Seeker: As they say, the end goal of the universe is a government job.
Truth-Seeker: But what's the actual name of this department?
Truth-Seeker: You keep calling it the "Relevant Department," but the group doesn't have any confidentiality agreements. Can't you just tell us?
Wú Tóng was genuinely curious. Just how secretive was this department that the group owner had never revealed a single detail?
Dragon King Spits Water: Hmm… it's literally called the "Relevant Department."
Truth-Seeker: ???
No-Shamelessness: Wait, Group Owner, are you saying the department's actual name is "Relevant Department"?
Dragon King Spits Water: Yes, you understood perfectly.
Truth-Seeker: …
Speechless, folks. Is this for real?
Wú Tóng was thoroughly shocked.
No-Shamelessness: Wow. I thought names like that only existed in novels as jokes. I never expected it to be real.
No-Shamelessness: Which genius came up with this?
Dragon King Spits Water: The minister—an otaku with chuunibyou, but ridiculously strong. Especially loves reading novels.
…Understood.
At that moment, it wasn't just Zhāng Chǔlán. Everyone else grasped the situation—undoubtedly, it was the result of a leader stubbornly pushing their own vision.
No-Shamelessness: 666.
Slime King: 666.
Camera Girl: 666.
...
Just as the group descended into the essence of human repetition, a sudden announcement echoed:
[Congratulations to group member "Heavenly Foundation King" for drawing the 7th-tier treasure—Space Gem from the group lottery.]
Dragon King Spits Water: ???
Dragon King Spits Water: What? The group lottery actually gives good stuff?
Gù Ruòlí was stunned. She knew exactly how shady that so-called group lottery was.
Though it claimed to offer treasures from across the multiverse, the odds were abysmal.
The lottery had five tiers, each requiring exponentially more points:
Beginner Lottery: 100 points per draw (1st–3rd-tier items).
Intermediate Lottery: 10,000 points per draw (4th–6th-tier items).
Advanced Lottery: 1,000,000 points per draw (7th–9th-tier items).
Super Lottery: 100,000,000 points per draw (possible 10th-tier items).
Special Lottery: 10,000,000,000 points per draw (true multiversal randomness, with a chance for treasures beyond 10th-tier).
Only 7th-tier or higher items triggered a system-wide announcement. Normally, only the Advanced Lottery qualified.
But if someone got absurdly lucky, they could pull a higher-tier item from a lower-tier draw—like a 7th-tier prize from the Intermediate Lottery.
In truth, the lottery was just the chat system and its creators dredging up junk from the void. Even the best items were merely 10th-tier artifacts crafted by powerful beings.
Only the Special Lottery truly connected to the infinite void, offering fair, random rewards—with luck, even treasures beyond 10th-tier.
But all of this hinged on one thing: luck.
The lottery had no pity system. An unlucky player could dump 100 draws and get nothing but trash.
Anyone who'd played gacha games knew the horror of no guaranteed rewards.
Camera Girl: Right? Didn't the Group Owner say the lottery was full of junk? How did a 7th-tier treasure show up?
Heavenly Foundation King: …
Heavenly Foundation King: Sigh…
Heavenly Foundation King: Only you would believe that, March.
Slime King: Yeah, the Group Owner was just venting her gacha salt.
Passerby: Even if it's "useless" from a 10th-tier perspective, we're not at that level. Those items are still amazing for us.
No-Shamelessness: Exactly. But I never expected Sister Hèxī to pull a 7th-tier treasure—and the Space Gem at that! One of the Infinity Stones from Marvel, with infinite energy and spatial manipulation. Though I thought it only worked in the Marvel universe? How's it rated 7th-tier here?
Heavenly Foundation King: It's indeed a 7th-tier treasure. The chat system must've modified it to work across all worlds.
Dragon King Spits Water: …
Gù Ruòlí fell silent. Their guesses were spot-on.
She had tried the lottery—100 draws, not a single good item. The memory of 10,000 points vanishing into the void still made her heart ache.
Unable to accept reality, she had lashed out in the group, exposing the lottery's "true nature."
In short: a salty non-believer trying to drag everyone down.
But she never expected someone to actually take her word for it.
Oh, it's March?
Never mind then.
Vermilion Bird Adept: …
Another victim emerged—Fú Huá, the Vermilion Bird Adept.
If Pardofelis and Kiana represented luck in the Honkai world, then Fú Huá stood at the opposite extreme.
When it came to Honkai's unluckiest, Fúzhuàngshì Fú Huá was the undisputed champion.
Watching this unfold, Wú Tóng couldn't help but burst into laughter.
...
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