Chapter 75

Chapter 75: [Fist salute][Flowers][Grinning smile]

Vacation’s over, time to head back to work full of energy.

- Like hell it is.

By nine in the morning, when Lin Jianyuan arrived at the field agent training ground, he was yawning nonstop, his eyes brimming with tears from sheer exhaustion.

Probably because he’d been sleeping in for days, his body clock had completely forgotten what “work” even meant.

Whatever. It’s just onboarding anyway.

The theory classes were done; now it was time for physical training and field drills.

Lin Jianyuan actually took the physical training pretty seriously—mainly because his own fitness was terrible.

Not that it was his fault. After graduating, he’d spent five years in a soul-crushing desk job.

He’d never forget his first year on the job: one time his neck hurt so much and his hands went numb, he finally dragged himself to the hospital for a scan. The result? His cervical spine had lost its curve.

The news hit him like a punch to the gut.

His mentor at the time tried to comfort him:

“That’s nothing. My neck’s already curved the other way. Haha.”

Lin Jianyuan: “...”

Back then, Lin Jianyuan had naively thought his mentor was just an optimist.

Later, he realized that wasn’t optimism.

His mentor had simply gone quietly insane.

Then, his mentor was diagnosed with thyroid cancer, had surgery, and quit.

Lin Jianyuan never saw him again, just sent a holiday message now and then, heard he was doing fine, the cancer never came back.

All in all, the Bureau job still meant overtime, but compared to his old gig, it had its perks.

For one, most of the field division’s work was, well, out in the field.

No more being chained to a desk all day...

Just as he was thinking this, a message popped up from the field team.

“A-class combatant Lin Jianyuan, hello! You have [1] containment record pending (Aberrant: [Remorse]. Aberrant level: S [extremely high risk], ID: [uncoded]). Please write and upload promptly! Avoid timeout! Thank you!”

Lin Jianyuan: “?”

What the hell?

Did karma have to hit this fast?

Containment record?

Write it? Upload it?

And “avoid timeout”?!

Why did all this sound so damn familiar?

“They covered this in your basic theory class,” the squish toy piped up, wriggling out of his pocket and crawling onto Lin Jianyuan’s shoulder. “After you contain an Aberrant, you have to submit a report within a set time, or you get docked~”

The terminal’s warning light blinked at him, nerves fraying. Lin Jianyuan didn’t even have a laptop on hand, so he turned to torment the AI instead.

The AI churned out a draft, but being an AI, it still made up a bunch of nonsense. Lin Jianyuan skimmed it, fixed a few things, and uploaded it.

A few minutes later, his mobile terminal pinged again.

“A-class combatant Lin Jianyuan, hello! You have [1] containment record that does not meet writing standards (Aberrant: [Remorse]. Aberrant level: S [extremely high risk], ID: [uncoded]). Please fill out according to the guidelines and upload promptly! Avoid timeout! Thank you! Attachment 1: Containment Record Writing Guidelines.pdf; Attachment 2: Containment Record Reference Template.word.”

Lin Jianyuan: “...”

Training was about to start, and Lin Jianyuan wanted to ignore the message, but his terminal kept flashing.

It wouldn’t stop until he clicked “Acknowledged.”

If he didn’t hit “Acknowledged,” it would just keep flashing forever.

Goddamn mobile terminal, basically a pocket-sized office app from hell!

Lin Jianyuan’s temper flared again. Even the Bureau was playing this “please acknowledge” bullshit!

Let it go, let it go, let it go.

Two hundred thousand, two hundred thousand, two hundred thousand...

He talked himself down, told himself not to get pissed at a piece of tech.

He clicked “Acknowledged.”

For the sake of his 200k monthly salary, he forced himself to open the first PDF.

The system lagged for a moment.

Lin Jianyuan: “?”

After a short freeze, it loaded a monstrous 230-page “Containment Record Writing Guidelines.”

Lin Jianyuan: “………………”

Lin Jianyuan’s vision went dark. He tossed the 230 pages at the AI.

The AI instantly popped up a message:

“This file is too large. Upload not supported at this time!”

Lin Jianyuan: “???”

Lin Jianyuan thought, maybe he could just pay a college kid to do it?

Then realized, no way—this stuff was classified!

The AI was fine though—local install, no security issues.

So he really had to read all 230 pages and write it himself?

His vision went dark again.

Two hundred thousand, two hundred thousand, two hundred thousand...

Other people work way harder for 200k a month. This is nothing. Hang in there. I’m a grown-up office drone. For 200k, I can deal with it...

Lin Jianyuan kept talking himself down.

He decided to skip the guidelines for now and just fill in the template.

And immediately got stuck on the first field:

[Project ID].

He tried to skip it and fill in the next blank.

But the cursor wouldn’t budge.

Every time he tried, the system popped up:

“[Project ID] not filled! Please fill in [Project ID] first!”

Lin Jianyuan: “...”

What the hell is this ID supposed to be? Where do I even find it?!

And why can’t I fill out the rest without it—what kind of garbage system is this?

Lin Jianyuan called the director on the spot.

“What’s the ID for [Remorse]?” Lin Jianyuan asked.

“ID? You mean project ID?” The director sounded surprised. “You fill that out according to the Aberrant’s characteristics. There’s a whole set of coding rules.”

Lin Jianyuan took a deep breath and swallowed his pride. “Can you just tell me how to fill it out? I don’t know how. The system says I’m about to time out.”

“Well…” The director sounded awkward. “Xiao Lin, it’s not that I don’t want to help, but if you haven’t written the report, I really can’t code it for you.”

Lin Jianyuan: “I’m writing the report, that’s why I need the code.”

Director: “The code is based on the Aberrant’s characteristics. You check the requirements in the guidelines and code it according to the actual situation…”

He paused, then cautiously added, “Didn’t they just cover this in your basic theory class?”

Lin Jianyuan: “.”

Maybe they did.

But all he’d been thinking then was, “What the hell is this? Too annoying. I’ll deal with it if it ever comes up.”

The knowledge had just slid right through his brain.

Who knew it would come up this fast?

It’s not like he expected to get sent out to contain an S-class before onboarding was even over!

Two hundred thousand, two hundred thousand, two hundred thousand...

Lin Jianyuan clung to the thought of his salary, took a deep breath, and asked, “What happens if I don’t get this done in time? Do I get docked?”

If it’s just a little, maybe he’d just take the hit every month.

It’s not like he was short on cash now.

Director: “You won’t get docked.”

Lin Jianyuan, hardened by life, caught the catch instantly. “Then who does get docked?”

The director answered honestly, “It’s not a direct deduction. But if you don’t submit on time, the colleagues in internal affairs who handle QC and archiving, and those in containment oversight, their work all gets delayed. Daily reports end up incomplete, which affects their monthly performance. If it happens three times in a month, it can even impact promotions.”

Lin Jianyuan blew up on the spot. “What kind of bullshit rule is that? That’s just emotional blackmail! You’re holding my coworkers’ pay over my head?!”

He busted his ass saving the world, and now he had to come back to this guilt-tripping crap?

Was there any justice left in the world?!

The director tried to placate him. “Try to understand, the Bureau has strict QC requirements for these records now… Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that we don’t appreciate the field team’s hard work. Everyone knows you have it tough, but only you know the details of containment. No one else can do it for you. So you submit a draft first, then internal affairs will review and edit. They might follow up with you for details later…”

Lin Jianyuan was incredulous. “Isn’t Aberrant containment done once you catch them? Why is there so much paperwork?!”

Why did saving the world come with this much admin?

Director: “That’s not quite right. You saw for yourself with [Remorse]—Aberrants are a huge threat. We’re constantly researching them, developing better methods. All that needs data. The field team’s containment process is our most valuable frontline information. Plus, the PR department also…”

The director rambled on, but Lin Jianyuan had already tuned out.

“Fine, fine, I get it!” Lin Jianyuan snapped. “I’ll write it! Okay?!”

“Thanks for your hard work!” the director said encouragingly. “The record is an important part of the job too! I believe with your ability…”

Click.

Lin Jianyuan physically skipped the rest of the nonsense.

Lin Jianyuan immediately called Shi Shaoning. “Hey, Captain Shi. You busy?”

Shi Shaoning: “Just finished a shoot, taking a break. What’s up?”

Lin Jianyuan: “Can you help me write a containment report? For [Remorse].”

Shi Shaoning: “Can’t help. I didn’t handle that case—how would I write it?”

Lin Jianyuan: “I’ll tell you what happened, you just fill it in for me, okay? That guideline is over 200 pages, I just can’t. Bro, help me out! Drinks on me next time! Or I’ll just pay you! I’ll give you two—”

Lin Jianyuan was about to say “two thousand” when Shi Shaoning cut him off.

“Twenty thousand?” Shi Shaoning laughed. “Then next time I’ll give you forty, no, eighty thousand! You write mine.”

Lin Jianyuan: “.”

Damn.

Double wasn’t enough, he had to triple it!

How much did Shi Shaoning hate writing these reports?!

But then again...

Lin Jianyuan: “Seriously? Eighty thousand?”

Shi Shaoning: “Seriously.”

Lin Jianyuan: “Could be doable. Let me look into it.”

Shi Shaoning snorted. “Anything else? If not, I’m hanging up.”

Lin Jianyuan: “No, you go ahead.”

That luxury vacation had already given Lin Jianyuan a taste of the rich life.

He made 200k a month, but if he could earn eighty thousand just by writing something, who wouldn’t be tempted?

No one ever complained about too much money!

Besides, he still needed to buy a house.

The phrase “buy a house” was like a trigger.

Lin Jianyuan felt something click inside him—suddenly he had the energy to work again.

It was kind of miraculous.

There was a time when the thought of “buying a house” only brought him dread, despair, and suffocation.

Even after he’d given up on owning a place in City A, just hearing the words made him uncomfortable—like a whip lashing his spine.

Now it was different.

Maybe because now he actually had a “home.”

With someone he loved, he had a real home.

A safe harbor.

So “buying a house” wasn’t some obligation society forced on him anymore.

It was a goal.

He wanted to make their home better, to work for it with real motivation, from the bottom of his heart—

A goal.

Lin Jianyuan checked the time. Still a bit before training started.

He took a deep breath, found a place to sit, and started studying the containment report.

Containment records were classified, so he could only write and access them on the internal network.

There was a dedicated system for it—kind of like doctors using a special system for medical records.

Whenever Lin Jianyuan tried to skip the “Project ID” and fill in the next field, the system would pop up, reminding him of the missing entry.

It was a self-check system, meant to prevent mistakes or omissions.

But forcing you to fill things in order was just plain stupid.

Lin Jianyuan thought for a moment, pulled up the reference template, and copied a random number format from there.

He moved the cursor.

It worked!

No more pop-ups!

The system actually accepted his made-up number!

Lin Jianyuan grinned.

Hell yeah! Years of office drone experience finally paid off!

The world really was one big half-assed operation!

Of course, the “random number” was just a placeholder.

Once he finished the details, he’d try to code it properly.

He couldn’t just dump his mess on someone else.

Damn it. That’s why he hated guilt-tripping—

And hated his own stubborn sense of responsibility even more.

Anyway, realizing the Bureau was just as slapdash as everywhere else made him feel a lot better—

Almost fond, even.

Honestly, Lin Jianyuan wasn’t afraid of a half-assed operation.

What he hated was rigid dogma and old-school bureaucracy.

A slapdash crew had a human touch.

Dogma just made people fake.

Training time.

Lin Jianyuan went to the session, then came back to finish the report.

He wrote the narrative first, planning to match the codes to the guidelines later—it was way easier that way.

The more he wrote, the smoother it got.

His old office worker instincts kicked in.

Turns out, starting was the hardest part.

Once he got serious, it wasn’t so bad.

Not as grim as he’d expected.

9 p.m.

Shi Shaoning, on set for a night shoot, suddenly got a message from Lin Jianyuan.

Lin Jianyuan: Attachment: Containment Record (ID XXXXXXX) – Aberrant: [Remorse]. Aberrant Level: S [extremely high risk].

Lin Jianyuan: “Bro, I filled it out as a first draft. Can you take a look when you have time? See if there’s anything wrong. [Fist salute][Fist salute][Fist salute]”

Shi Shaoning: “?”

Lin Jianyuan: “[Flowers][Flowers] Please! Thanks in advance! [Grinning smile][Grinning smile]”

Shi Shaoning: “??”

What the hell.

What did Lin Jianyuan just rope me into?

Who am I, where am I, what am I even doing?

Is this really the Special Aberrant Management Bureau’s mobile terminal I’m looking at?