Chapter 76

Chapter 76: Shi Shaoning Goes Into Debt Just to Work

Shi Shaoning sat in the nanny van, skimming through the documents Lin Jianyuan had sent him at lightning speed.

When he finished, he was blown away.

He called Lin Jianyuan immediately.

“Holy shit, Lin Jianyuan, you write like a pro!” Shi Shaoning said. “Were you a Bureau agent in your last life or something?”

Lin Jianyuan laughed. “Come on, man, you’re flattering me. Nothing you want changed?”

Shi Shaoning said, “Looks good to me. You could submit this as is.”

Lin Jianyuan: “Thanks, thanks. Appreciate it.”

Shi Shaoning: “You did great. Honestly, I wish you could write mine too.”

Lin Jianyuan: “No problem. Forget eighty thousand, I’ll give you a discount. Forty thousand will do.”

Shi Shaoning: “Deal!”

He still hadn’t written the report for the last containment of [Delirium].

It was driving him insane.

And since [Delirium] was S-class, the paperwork had to be flawless.

Every time he thought about it, his procrastination flared up and he wanted to scream.

Thank god he had Lin Jianyuan now!

He quickly ran through the containment process for Lin Jianyuan.

“My agent’s rushing me,” Shi Shaoning said, glancing out the window at his agent making faces outside the van. “Bro, I’ll talk to you later.”

Lin Jianyuan: “Yeah, yeah, go do your thing.”

Shi Shaoning took a deep breath as he got out of the van.

Just thinking about never having to write those reports again made him feel ten pounds lighter.

No more torturing himself in front of a computer, trying to squeeze out words!

Shi Shaoning strolled back onto set in high spirits.

He took full advantage of his Bureau-granted vacation to throw himself into his real job.

Then, suddenly, a problem hit him.

The Bureau paid him a monthly salary of 100,000.

He caught at least five Aberrants a month, on average.

Lin Jianyuan charged 40,000 per report.

Which meant—

Not only would his entire salary go to Lin Jianyuan, he’d be losing another 100,000 on top of that!

Shi Shaoning’s face burned.

Damn! He was hopeless with numbers!

He hadn’t even thought to do the math!

No way! Overtime was one thing, but going into debt just to work?

Shi Shaoning clutched his stomach and dashed back to the van to haggle with Lin Jianyuan.

Lin Jianyuan burst out laughing the moment he heard the story.

Luckily, Lin Jianyuan was a fellow wage slave, not a heartless capitalist.

And besides, they were friends.

So the price was negotiable.

In the end, they settled on 5,000 per report.

Lin Jianyuan: “Want a monthly plan? Thirty thousand a month, all-inclusive. Friends’ rate, man. I’m only offering this to you.”

Shi Shaoning was honestly touched.

Lin Jianyuan really did have his back.

Shi Shaoning agreed without hesitation.

With the deal struck, Lin Jianyuan immediately sent over the finished [Delirium] report.

Shi Shaoning: “?”

That fast?! It was already done?!

As he skimmed through it, Shi Shaoning asked, “You’re getting faster at this. How’d you finish so quick?”

Lin Jianyuan grinned. “That’s what being a seasoned workhorse is. Once I get going, I fly through it. Took me about half an hour.”

Shi Shaoning’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

“What the hell?!” Shi Shaoning was stunned. “Half an hour?!”

He usually spent seven or eight hours and still couldn’t finish—what did that make him?

What did that make him?!!!

Shi Shaoning stared in disbelief. “How do you do it? That’s insane!”

And it wasn’t just slapped together—Lin Jianyuan’s report was flawless. Shi Shaoning couldn’t spot a single mistake.

Lin Jianyuan: “First I just make up a random code, then I dictate the containment process. I run the text through AI to fix typos and formatting, then review it myself and fix the code at the end. Once you get used to it, you can go even faster.”

Lin Jianyuan paused and teased, “Bro, I just gave you my trade secrets. You’re not gonna back out and steal my business, are you?”

Shi Shaoning: “……”

Alright, fine.

Technology changes lives. Five grand in half an hour.

Shi Shaoning couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation.

But then he thought about it—could he finish in half an hour if he followed Lin Jianyuan’s process?

The answer was obvious.

No way.

Absolutely not!

He couldn’t even dictate the process in half an hour, never mind finish the whole report.

There was a simple reason.

He was just uneducated.

Shi Shaoning was pretty bad at expressing himself. He hadn’t read much growing up.

Most of the time, he just got stuck, not knowing how to describe things.

Sometimes he wanted to just record a video and tell quality control, “This is it, I don’t know how to explain, just watch and figure it out yourself!”

Of course, that would never pass review.

So he and quality control would just torture each other, trying to figure out how to objectively describe what happened.

As for AI, confidentiality rules meant he could only use the Bureau’s in-house system.

That AI was dumb as bricks. Shi Shaoning had tried using it, but the reports it spat out were utter crap.

That was why the director had strictly forbidden him from using AI in the first place...

When Shi Shaoning wrote it himself: a pile of shit.

When Shi Shaoning used AI: also a pile of shit.

Between two turds, the director preferred the one Shi Shaoning wrote himself.

After all, shit made by humans had a certain warmth to it.

……

You had to admit, Lin Jianyuan was a genius at this stuff.

Especially when Shi Shaoning got stuck or his memory was fuzzy, Lin Jianyuan would smooth it all over, making sure the logic lined up.

He’d even offer several ways to fix it, letting Shi Shaoning pick his favorite!

Was this what happened when you’d been ground down by ruthless bosses for years?

Unbelievable! Terrifying, even!

Shi Shaoning took a deep breath. “Alright, from now on, you’re handling all my reports. Just one thing—don’t let the director find out.”

Lin Jianyuan: “Got it. That old bastard. Tsk.”

The moment “old bastard” was said, the two felt instantly closer.

And that little “tsk” sealed it.

No more words needed.

Shi Shaoning’s vacation wasn’t over yet.

But the report he’d been putting off forever was finally (thanks to someone else) done.

Shi Shaoning felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders.

Now he could throw himself into filming, free of any mental baggage!

On the other side, Lin Jianyuan looked at the monthly payment Shi Shaoning had just sent him.

He scratched his head and turned to his roommate.

“I’m starting to think Shi Shaoning has no idea how money works.”

His roommate laughed. “Didn’t you set the price?”

Lin Jianyuan: “Dude, he offered eighty grand at first. I thought he was joking… Honestly, five thousand for a single report is nuts. That’s enough to hire a college kid to do this full time. Maybe celebrities just have a different relationship with money.”

If it weren’t for the confidentiality agreement, Lin Jianyuan would’ve pitched this gig to Pei Shuo in a heartbeat.

No sense letting all that easy money go to waste.

Lin Jianyuan was already making 200,000 a month; an extra 30,000 was nothing to him.

But for Pei Shuo, it’d be a game changer.

If he could make that kind of money, who’d still be slaving away at that crappy company!

……

The field division’s training program was top notch.

On day one, everyone got a fitness test and was sorted into groups based on their physical ability and combat skills.

Training from then on was all done in groups.

As for Lin Jianyuan—

He was, as expected, placed in Group D-minus.

...D was bad enough, but why the minus?!

Whatever.

Five years of wage slavery—he had this coming.

Lin Jianyuan was already an A-class combatant, while the rookie instructor was only B-class—a lower rank than him.

Getting put in D-minus was embarrassing, but he didn’t care.

He told the instructor straight up that he was a clueless newbie, and even he thought his A-rank promotion was ridiculous.

So he told the instructor to ignore his rank and just treat him like everyone else. No need to treat him like an A.

Turns out, the instructor listened.

Because not only did the instructor not treat him like an A, he barely treated him like a person...

The logic was that an A-class with such terrible physical stats was a liability.

Train! Train him till he dropped!

So under this “scientific” (read: hellish) training, Lin Jianyuan ended each day dead tired.

A dead dog, at that.

He only survived by cuddling with his roommate at night.

They’d moved out of their old, rundown place.

Still searching for a new apartment.

Turns out, having money meant endless options.

There were so many nice places, Lin Jianyuan was getting overwhelmed.

All their stuff was stashed in Abyssal Maw’s stomach anyway—just pop it open and grab whatever they needed. Super convenient.

For now, Lin Jianyuan trained with the field division by day and crashed in the rest area with his roommate at night.

Even though the rest area had private rooms with their own bathrooms and locks, Lin Jianyuan couldn’t shake the feeling that it was still a public space.

It was the office.

A duty room.

How to put it...

He thought he’d be too self-conscious to get close with his roommate here.

But in reality...

It was even more exciting!

Damn.

It was so thrilling, he almost felt embarrassed.

That delicious sense of misusing public property.

That nervous thrill, knowing no one would come but still feeling on edge.

God, it was exciting!

It kept giving him all sorts of ideas involving his reproductive system.

Lin Jianyuan never knew he was into this kind of thing.

Whatever.

He’d already gotten cozy with the pink digestive system—might as well let himself enjoy it!

After a week of basic training, it was time for field exercises.

Not a drill—actual exercises.

In other words, the real deal.

It was clear the Bureau was desperate to get everyone on the job.

“Don’t worry, everyone,” the D-minus team leader said. “Our targets this time are Aberrant spawn, not the real thing. They’re not aggressive, just numerous. The main goal is to get used to containing Aberrants in public without drawing attention.”

The D-minus members all nodded.

Lin Jianyuan messaged his roommate: “Honey, I’m heading out for fieldwork.”

Roommate: “Okay. Be careful~”

Even through text, he could hear his roommate’s gentle, soft voice.

Lin Jianyuan’s lips curled into a smile.

He ducked into the field team’s van.

It was almost one in the afternoon. Late summer, early fall—the heat still lingered, and it was sweltering outside.

“Never assume anything in the field. This is just a beginner exercise, but it’s still real-world practice. Don’t let your guard down.”

The instructor sat up front, turning to address everyone.

“If anything unusual happens, report immediately and ask for instructions. Don’t take risks. Remember, you’re all just one week into the job. You have no experience with Aberrants yet, so don’t make assumptions...”

Everyone: “Got it!”

Lin Jianyuan: “Got it!”

Squish toy: “.”

Little Rock: “.”

Angel Eyeball, Abyssal Maw, and Socially Awkward Lego: “.”

What did you get, Lin Jianyuan? Hm?

Having fun pretending to be a newbie among the other losers? Huh? Say something!

Of course, the little toys only dared to grumble in their heads.

If they actually said it out loud, squish toy would slap them silly.

What a bunch of bullies...

To be honest, Lin Jianyuan was a little excited himself.

He’d faced Aberrants before, but this felt like a kindergarten field trip—fresh and novel.

He looked out the window, chatting with his teammates. “Hey, I used to come here all the time. The company I worked for before the Bureau was right around here... Yeah, I quit. That place was hell—my boss was an asshole, the clients were assholes, it was disgusting. Worst of all, my idiot boss loved scheduling meetings at lunch, right around this time. Can you believe it? Lunch break was already short, and that jackass would always call meetings during our only downtime...”

“We’re here.” The van stopped. The instructor said, “Everyone out.”

Lin Jianyuan fell silent.

His teammates filed out, and the instructor asked, “Lin Jianyuan, why aren’t you moving?”

Lin Jianyuan stared up at the building, disbelief and suspicion written all over his face, as if the author was messing with him on purpose.

The instructor frowned. “Lin Jianyuan?”

“Uh, sir, can you give me a hint? What kind of Aberrant are we after this time?”

Lin Jianyuan’s expression was complicated.

“It’s not... frogs, is it?”

The instructor was surprised. “How did you know? Do you have some kind of Aberrant sense?”

“...No.” Lin Jianyuan rubbed his forehead, embarrassed. “It’s not that. I just remembered—I forgot to report them last time.”

Frogs.

The frogs that kept popping out of Jiang Chen’s throat.

When the Bureau collected the little toys, he’d forgotten to report or retrieve the frogs.

So the frog seeds had stayed in Jiang Chen’s throat.

When Lin Jianyuan quit, there hadn’t been a single frog left in the company (he’d taken them all home to feed his roommate).

But now there were so many, the Bureau had gotten involved.

—Just how many meetings had that idiot Jiang Chen held since he left?!

That company really couldn’t function without him (and his roommate)!