Seeing how things were starting to become a bit strange between him and Damien, Ethan knew he had to wrap this mission up and get the hell out of this world. This weird, heavy atmosphere between them was exactly why he needed to complete his mission quickly.
Ding!
[Main Task: Stabilize the target's control of the family corporation by undermining the chairman's influence.]
[Side Task: Share a sweet snack with the target to improve his mood. Special Item: Magical Strawberry Tart]
Reward: +15 Exp
Wait, magical strawberry tart?
Before he could fully comprehend what's going on, he heard a commotion coming from downstairs. He rubbed his face, pulled on a hoodie, and went downstairs.
A convoy of black cars arrived at the villa, spilling out stern-faced accountants in identical suits. Their leader, a tall man with a polished briefcase and a permanent frown, announced, "Per the chairman's orders, we're conducting a full financial audit. Certain irregularities have come to light."
Translation: We're here to dig up dirt and justify stripping your power.
Damien sat at the head of the long table, perfectly calm but visibly furious. The porcelain coffee cup in his hand trembled just once before he set it down. "Tell Grandfather," he said evenly, "That his concern is unnecessary. The company remains stable under my control."
The man smiled thinly. "Of course, Young Master. We'll still need to verify."
Ethan watched from the doorway, an apple in hand, trying to look casual. Inside, his system interface flickered alive behind his eyes.
"Xixi," he whispered, "Can you scan for financial weaknesses in the chairman's network. Give me something useful."
"Of course host," Xixi replied practically bouncing in the air.
Golden data streams—numbers, company names, hidden shell accounts—flashed in front of him. He skimmed, compiled, and within minutes had what he needed. One anonymous email later, several incriminating transactions found their way to a shareholder already skeptical of the chairman.
Sometimes a tiny push toppled an entire mountain.
When Ethan returned, the auditors were gone but tension still clung to the air. That was when she arrived.
"Secretary Riell," Damien greeted as a woman glided into the study, carrying a stack of folders. She was the definition of polished efficiency—sharp glasses, sleek hair, and beauty that could probably cause minor heart attacks in unprepared interns.
"Good morning, Young Master," she said smoothly. "The chairman requests these contracts be signed before noon." Her tone was professional, but her eyes cool, assessing barely lingered on Ethan before dismissing him altogether.
Ethan blinked, momentarily dazzled. "Wow," he whispered under his breath. "I wouldn't mind having a cold beauty for a wife. Though I prefer a soft and obedient one like Hinata hehe."
Damien's gaze cut toward him. "What?"
"Nothing," Ethan said quickly.
Riell's lips curved faintly. "Mr. Xia," she said coolly, "Perhaps you could make yourself useful. These documents need copying. And the Young Master's tea should be precisely eighty degrees."
She set a box of files down near him with a pointed thud.
Ethan smiled brightly. "Sure thing! I'm great with copy machines. And tea."
As she turned away, he added, "Nice necklace, by the way. Really brings out your uh—sense of responsibility."
Riell froze, clearly unsure if he was mocking her. "Thank you," she said flatly, and strode off, her heels clicking like tiny gunshots. Maybe this little pest wasn't so bad, she thought as her lips curled up into a smile.
From his desk, Damien's pen stilled mid-stroke. He didn't like the way Ethan's gaze lingered on her or the easy way Riell looked back, however briefly. The feeling that rose in his chest was unfamiliar, hot, and irritating. He told himself it was simple annoyance. Nothing more.
The rest of the afternoon vanished in a blur of paperwork. Damien dissected each page with surgical precision, but Ethan spotted the buried traps the auditors had left behind—misworded clauses, hidden loss projections, falsified signatures. He quietly corrected them, guiding Damien's hand toward safer decisions without ever claiming credit.
By the third correction, Damien finally glanced at him. "You noticed these inconsistencies."
Ethan shrugged. "I have a habit of reading the fine print before signing my soul away."
A genuine, startled smile tugged at Damien's lips.
Ding!
> [Side Task Progress – Target's Mood Improved.]
[Partial Reward Granted: +5 Exp]
Then, right on cue, the air beside the desk shimmered. Something solid materialized on a porcelain plate—a perfect strawberry tart, glistening under the soft light.
Ethan stared. "Strawberry tart?" He frowned, turning it over in disbelief. "Where the hell did that come from? I didn't see this in the store earlier."
He tapped his interface. "Xixi? You there?"
Silence. His rabbit-shaped system guide was apparently nowhere to be found. Where did that little bunny go?
"Huh. Great." He gave up, pushing the tart toward Damien. "Don't ask questions—just eat. It's probably from the universe's secret pastry department."
Damien blinked, then, against all logic, accepted. He took a careful bite. Sweetness melted across his tongue.
"Good?" Ethan asked.
Damien's expression softened. "Surprisingly."
And then—a quiet laugh escaped him, low and rough, as if he hadn't done it in a long time.
Ethan's chest warmed. "Mission accomplished," he muttered.
By nightfall, exhaustion had settled into Damien's shoulders. His complexion was pale again, his legs still and cold.
"You overdid it," Ethan said, crouching beside the wheelchair. "Let me check."
"It's fine."
"It's not." Ethan rolled up one trouser leg, revealing the long scar that trailed down Damien's thigh—a reminder of the accident that had shattered both bone and meridians.
A faint golden glow flickered around Ethan's fingertips as he focused. Modern cultivation had long merged with medicine in this world; even small energy users could stimulate dormant qi channels.
[Optional System Skil Granted: Meridian Reconnection – Use 10 Exp to restore nerve flow.]
Ethan blinked. Why didn't this skill appear sooner?!
He pricked his finger, letting a drop of blood fall onto the scar. The gold light brightened, pulsing outward like ripples in still water. Warmth spread under his palms, threading through Damien's dormant meridians.
Damien gasped—the first jolt of sensation in years racing up his leg.
"Try moving your foot," Ethan murmured, dizzy but smiling.
Damien focused. Slowly, his foot twitched then pressed down a fraction. His eyes widened. "I… felt that."
"Told you," Ethan said softly. "Human good-luck charm."
Damien's hand closed around his wrist, thumb brushing the faint blood mark. His voice dropped to a near whisper. "You're reckless. But… thank you."
Ethan looked away quickly, ears burning. "All part of the job description," he muttered.
Later, Ethan found Damien still working by the window. Secretary Riell entered quietly, carrying reports. She leaned over his chair to point at a line of text—too close, her perfume lingering in the air.
Ethan paused in the doorway, watching the scene. Riell's tone turned soft, almost coaxing. But Damien didn't look up. He simply signed the page and said, "You may go."
The dismissal was polite—but final. Riell's smile tightened as she left.
Ethan couldn't help a small grin. "Guess charm doesn't work on everyone," he murmured to himself.
He walked up to Damien's desk and said, "Hey wanna go home?"
Ding!
[Side Task Complete!]
[Mission Progress: 60% – Chairman's Influence Weakening.]
Damien looked at Ethan's weary face and replied with a hum. As they left in silence, Damien suddenly called, "Xia Lan?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't look at Secretary Riell like that again."
Ethan blinked. "Like what? I was just being polite."
"Never mind." Damien turned away, tone unreadable.
Ethan frowned, scratching his head.
His system bar glowed in the corner of his vision—mission 60 percent complete. Success was close!
"Almost done," he whispered. "Then I'm out of this complicated world."