Chapter 41

Chapter 41: Idealists Deserve to Work Overtime

While Xie Yu crunched on midnight snacks in the psych ward,

across the city, the Bureau’s vast underground complex buzzed with activity.

In the early hours, empty corridors echoed with hurried footsteps.

The Bureau was always busy.

But tonight, the footsteps weren’t just fast—they were frantic.

Radio chatter crackled everywhere.

“Report! Mass incident near 37 Huayuan Road, BBQ shop. Brief appearance of ‘Rabid Dog’ sigil, A-class target. Three squads dispatched for containment!”

“Report! Aberrant fluctuation, B-class, near 121 South Lakeside Road! Unknown sigil, unregistered, entity unconfirmed! Tracking in progress!”

“Report!”

“Report!”

The reports never stopped.

With his sharp A-rank hearing, Shi Shaoning felt like the static would split his eardrums.

“Goddamn it, is this ever going to end?”

He yanked off his headset, scowling.

“Captain Shi…”

His subordinate shrank away.

Anyone could see Shi Shaoning’s chronic work-loathing was flaring up again.

Luckily, their shift was over; they’d finished the day’s work.

His subordinate was quietly relieved—until a commotion broke out behind them.

“Move! Make way!”

A medical team barreled past.

Wait—was that really a medical team?

The subordinate stared. They wore the Bureau’s white hazmat suits and badges, but instead of stretchers,

they had forklifts.

No, not carrying forklifts—

but driving them.

One after another, colleagues in hazmat suits sped past on forklifts.

They shouted, “Clear the way! Medical emergency transport! Please move aside!”

Only then did everyone see the forklifts weren’t carrying cargo.

They carried bone-white statues.

Life-sized, dressed in field ops combat gear.

These statues were the “casualties”!

Black combat suits clung to the pale statues, faces eerily lifelike, bodies frozen stiff as they were hauled away like cargo.

The scene was surreal.

A chill crept up everyone’s spine.

“Holy shit, what happened to them?”

“Fuck, that’s terrifying. What kind of Aberrant does this? Turns people into statues…”

“Can they be saved? God, imagine their families—leaving for work and coming back like this…”

As everyone whispered, a cold, steady voice cut through.

“They can be saved.”

Everyone turned in unison.

There stood Captain Shi Shaoning, infamous for hating overtime, picking up his headset and putting it back on.

His sharp brows were drawn, movie-star handsome face twisted in pure annoyance.

“They’ll be fine,” Shi Shaoning said coolly. “Just need to drag ‘Bone Sonata’ back and beat the crap out of it.”

Everyone: “!”

They’ll recover? Well, that’s a relief.

Looking closer, the “casualties” weren’t dead.

They were just immobilized, frozen like statues.

Combat suits, black masks, weapons in hand—still locked in battle stance.

They rode the forklifts like conquering heroes.

Honestly?

It looked kind of cool.

Like a parade of post-apocalyptic theme park NPCs.

“Cool my ass!”

One of the statues burst out, “We can’t even clock out like this!”

Everyone: ?

Good point!

How do you go home to your family like this?

Forget breaking confidentiality—how do you shower, eat, or sleep?

So you just stay like a giant action figure, waiting for someone to catch ‘Bone Sonata’?

That’s rough.

Messing up at work is one thing, but getting paraded around on a forklift…

But not being able to clock out?

That’s just cruel.

Can’t take it.

Everyone felt it.

They couldn’t help but laugh, half in pain.

Someone joked, “Can’t clock out? Great, you guys take the night shift. I’m heading home.”

“Sounds good. I’m out too.”

“Me three.”

Everyone left, trying not to laugh.

The statues on the forklifts: “…”

The subordinate glanced from the retreating crowd to Shi Shaoning’s dark expression.

He felt a little guilty, but the urge to clock out won.

“Captain Shi, maybe we should…”

A vein throbbed in Shi Shaoning’s temple. “You can leave. I can’t.”

“I have a middle management meeting.”

Subordinate: “…”

Pfft.

Sorry. That’s rough.

But it’s hilarious.

Ten minutes later, the Bureau’s mid-level management meeting.

It was urgent, so they cut straight to the chase.

“Starting at 15:21 two days ago, Aberrants worldwide began acting up. I’m sure you’ve noticed—they’re more active than ever…”

The director stood on stage, rattling off the past two days’ major incidents.

“The most notable: S-class Aberrant ‘Xie Yu’ acted out three hours ago.”

Shi Shaoning, already annoyed, got up and took the stage before the director could call him.

“Three hours ago—about 10:30 last night—I encountered S-class Aberrant ‘Xie Yu’ near Jiangchuan Square…”

Last night’s storm was raging. Shi Shaoning braced for a fight, but Xie Yu just looked impatient and said,

“I’m busy. Get out of my way.”

Shi Shaoning was sure—this was the start of some grand scheme! What’s in that plastic bag? I have to stop him!

He went all out.

But Xie Yu had no interest in fighting.

The only time he fought back was when Shi Shaoning nearly grabbed the bag.

Xie Yu snapped. A crimson wave erupted, blasting everyone away.

Even Shi Shaoning staggered.

That only convinced Shi Shaoning further.

That bag had to be important!

Aberrants everywhere were acting up—there had to be a secret behind it.

But the storm ruined the trail. They lost Xie Yu.

“Still, there’s good news.”

Shi Shaoning’s face was stone cold.

“We recovered another fragment of Xie Yu’s sigil. One more encounter, and we’ll have a full sample.”

The room erupted.

An S-class sigil sample!

A sigil was like an Aberrant’s fingerprint—their unique ID.

Every Aberrant left sigil fragments behind, especially the lower-class ones—they had no brains, so they didn’t hide their tracks.

With a complete sigil, the Bureau could track and hunt them down.

In short—

“We’ve got you.”

The Bureau’s classification had a line at B-class.

Below B, Aberrants had no intelligence. B and above were smart—and good at hiding.

Especially ones like Xie Yu—almost human.

Well, except for Delirium.

Delirium was a rare S-class idiot.

Anyway, S-class Aberrants like Xie Yu almost never left sigils behind.

The higher the class, the more they avoided the Bureau.

“But Xie Yu is different.”

A vein pulsed in Shi Shaoning’s forehead.

He remembered running into Xie Yu last time, off duty and unarmed.

That was bad enough.

But Xie Yu had shaken him down for a kickback!

Seriously?

Sure, high-class Aberrants acted more human, but hauling two A-class Aberrants over and demanding cash? That’s too fucking human.

Is that normal?!

What does an Aberrant want with cash? Grocery shopping?!

His fists clenched.

Hard as rocks.

The veins on his forehead bulged.

The more he thought, the more he felt played.

Shi Shaoning said coldly, “Xie Yu was last seen at Jiangchuan Square, heading north. There are lots of hospitals up there—prime Aberrant territory. We plan to send teams to screen every medical facility: City A People’s Hospital, City A TCM Hospital, the Mental Health Center, and more…”

“Why ‘plan’? Why not already dispatched?”

A provincial official in the front row frowned, rapping his finger on the table. “It’s been three hours since you saw Xie Yu! What have you been doing? If you knew he might be in a hospital, why didn’t you send people immediately?”

Shi Shaoning: “…”

The city director watched the veins in Shi Shaoning’s forehead throb and rushed to smooth things over. “Sir, it’s the red alert storm—the sigils were washed away. You know how S-class Aberrants are. If they want to hide, and we have no sigil, the field team can’t track them…”

But the official wasn’t buying it. “Excuses! That’s just covering for incompetence. You had a live encounter—why didn’t you pursue? Why didn’t you…”

The director tried again, but Shi Shaoning cut him off with a snort.

“Why? Let me tell you why!”

Shi Shaoning stormed off the stage and smashed the official’s nameplate with his fist.

“Because I had to rush back for your goddamn management meeting!”

“Because Jiangchuan Square is in the north, the Bureau HQ is in the fucking south!”

“Because I’ve been on shift twelve hours straight! I should’ve clocked out, but I’m still here at your fucking meeting!”

“Because you don’t have enough people! Half the field team are part-timers! You know what that means? They have a whole other job! They only come here after they’re done elsewhere!”

“Even I got conned into this as a part-timer!”

“And now you ask why I didn’t chase and investigate? Why I didn’t split myself in two to both attend your meeting and keep working in a red-alert storm?”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Look me in the eye! You tell me! Why?!”

Full ‘your mom’ power, no holding back.

He shut the official up on the spot.

The official’s face went red and green. The director thought about smoothing things over, but realized Shi Shaoning was right.

They really were short-staffed.

Upper management needed to hear it.

They couldn’t just keep working people to death.

If everyone burned out, who’d do the job?

So the director played dead.

No one bailed the official out. He was stuck.

What’s with young people these days?

The official fumed—was this what they called “fixing the workplace”?

He narrowed his eyes. “Listen, kid. Don’t think being young and capable means you can do whatever you want. If you won’t work, there are plenty who will…”

The threat sucked the air out of the room. Silence.

But Shi Shaoning’s eyes lit up. “You’re firing me?”

Fantastic!

He’d wanted out for ages!

The official froze.

The director shot up, panicked. “Sir! You can’t!”

Shi Shaoning was his best man—well, the one he’d roped in.

The toughest, softest-hearted idealist around!

If Shi Shaoning left, he was doomed.

He might grumble, but he got the job done.

And he did it well.

…

In the end, Shi Shaoning was not fired.

The official’s threat backfired—he had to endure ten minutes of the director singing Shi Shaoning’s praises.

Now, not just the official,

even Shi Shaoning couldn’t take it.

“I give up. Seriously. Enough, I’m busy. I’m off.”

Shi Shaoning left, muttering.

But everyone saw the smile tugging at his lips.

Everyone: “…”

That’s our Captain Shi.

A pillar of the team! Backbone of the Bureau!

Chews out the boss and gets praised for it!

A role model for every wage slave.

Shi Shaoning, reputation +99.

The official saw admiration in everyone’s eyes and glared at the director. “This is how you manage your staff?”

The director just grinned. “Heh. Heh.”

Life’s tough. Sometimes you have to hype your people up.

Hear that, boss? You listening?

I’m just as humble as they come.

The official looked at the director’s honest face, but couldn’t vent his anger.

He was about to leave when the alarm blared overhead.

“Maximum alert! Maximum alert!”

“S-class Aberrant ‘Delirium’—containment breach! Rapid escape in progress!”

“All combat staff, report immediately! Location: A Zone, corridor 03-04!”

“Repeat: S-class Aberrant ‘Delirium’ escaping! All staff, carry clarity agents! Avoid psychic contamination! Repeat: S-class Aberrant ‘Delirium’ escaping! Carry clarity agents! Avoid psychic contamination!”

Scarlet alarms screamed through the Bureau.

Every manager shot to their feet, racing for the target zone.

The official, as highest-ranking officer, rushed to A Zone.

As he hurried along, he spotted Shi Shaoning returning.

Shi Shaoning was still in black combat gear, sharp and unyielding.

His face was tired, irritated, and fierce.

But he was the fastest to the scene.

The official was stunned.

Shi Shaoning? Why was he still here?

Didn’t he say he was off?

The official glanced at the director, puzzled.

The director smiled, guileless.

See? That’s what a soft-hearted, tough-talking idealist looks like.

You never really clock out. That’s the fate of an idealist who cares too much.