Chapter 86

Chapter 86: Novelty

The Special Operations Bureau clerk who called herself Ren Wen Wen left.

Irene leaned on the window and watched her walk away, then turned to look at Yu Sheng, who still seemed a little dazed. Curious, she asked, “What was that ‘The Blizzard Mystery Case’ she mentioned?”

Yu Sheng’s expression turned complicated. “…A novel I wrote. I serialize it on a media account.”

“Then who’s Lin Qi?”

“The male lead in the book.”

“And the Nightblade?” Irene blinked. Before Yu Sheng could answer, her face brightened as if she’d solved it. “Oh, I get it. That’s the female lead, right?”

Yu Sheng fell silent and stared up at the ceiling.

One look at his face and Irene immediately guessed something. Her tone turned cautious. “…Don’t tell me it’s another male lead?”

Yu Sheng leaned back in his chair. “If it were another male lead, I could at least understand.”

Irene’s eyes widened a little. “…Then the male villain? I don’t remember a lot, but I vaguely remember pairings like that exist…”

Yu Sheng gave the doll a long, silent look, thinking her already pitiful memory could maybe make room for something useful. Then he let out a slow sigh.

“It’s the male lead’s motorcycle.”

Irene went utterly still.

Little Doll looked more shaken than when she’d first seen a giant eyeball covering the sky. She hopped down from the windowsill and jabbed a finger at Yu Sheng. “You wrote something that twisted?!”

“I did not write it like that in my damn book!” Yu Sheng snapped, losing it. “Maybe people who work at the Special Operations Bureau are under so much pressure that their values and worldview are just… off?!”

Ren Wen Wen was gone now, but if she’d still been here, Yu Sheng really would’ve wanted to say it to her face: young lady, your tastes have gone way too narrow.

Foxy had been listening for a while. Finally, she couldn’t help leaning in, curious. “Benefactor, Irene, what are you talking about?”

“Good children don’t listen—even bad children shouldn’t listen,” Yu Sheng said, utterly drained, waving a hand. His eyes drifted back to the laptop nearby.

His plan to meet his deadline hadn’t even started, and now he couldn’t write a single word.

“You’re not writing today, right?” Irene stared at Yu Sheng’s computer and asked curiously.

“Tomorrow,” Yu Sheng sighed. Then he noticed Irene’s expression. “What are you planning?”

“Can I play with that for a bit?” Irene pointed at the computer. “Watching TV every day is kind of boring.”

Yu Sheng didn’t answer right away.

Little Doll hurried to add, “I won’t look at your browser history!”

“That’s not what I’m worried about!” Yu Sheng snapped, eyes widening. “I’m worried you’ll break it. Do you even know how to use it?”

“I do!” Irene said righteously.

“…Where did you learn?”

“I don’t know. I just know how. I can type too!”

Yu Sheng eyed the doll suspiciously. After hesitating for a long time, he finally waved her off. “Fine. Do whatever. Just don’t break it. I’ll go mess with this new phone.”

He stopped paying attention to Irene and sat down to the side, taking out the phone Ren Wen Wen had given him.

A “gift” from Director Bai Li Qing of the Special Operations Bureau, given in a personal capacity.

Yu Sheng examined it closely. It looked almost like a normal phone, except it felt a little heavier in his hand. He didn’t know if it had a bigger battery inside or some other function. Ren Wen Wen hadn’t given him any special instructions either—only said it turned on like any ordinary phone. As for the “guidance” meant for an anomalous individual, it was all integrated into the system.

After studying the exterior for a bit, he unlocked the screen.

A large red diamond emblem appeared in the center, like an upright, wary one-eye. That was probably the Bureau’s symbol. Then the emblem faded, and a clean home screen appeared. Since it was a brand-new device, there weren’t many icons. The most noticeable one was the top icon on the screen: Border Comms.

It used the same red emblem and diamond logo. It launched quickly after he tapped it, almost without loading, and Yu Sheng saw a clean, straightforward interface.

Messaging tools. Data lookup. A series of preset public channels. News pushes. An emergency support option.

A strange sense of novelty surged in his chest. Yu Sheng explored this “integrated platform,” supposedly built by the Special Operations Bureau for all registered spirit-realm detectives and independent investigators in the Borderland. Before long, he noticed the app was already logged in. The username was Yu Sheng.

The registration time was this morning.

Had that “Director” set it up in advance? Or was the device pre-bound to its user, with registration info written in the moment it was handed over, impossible to change? A lot of special devices with confidentiality features worked like that…

While he was thinking, Yu Sheng found the chat function. On impulse, he typed “Little Red Riding Hood” into the search bar.

An avatar appeared: the back of someone in a red cloak. Status: online.

Yu Sheng thought for a moment, then sent his first message. “You there?”

Two or three seconds later, the avatar flashed, and a string of symbols popped up: “???!”

“It’s Yu Sheng. The Special Operations Bureau just gave me a phone,” Yu Sheng typed. “I’ve seen you use this app. Now I have it too.”

This time, Little Red Riding Hood’s reply took a while. “You’re actually doing this?! I thought you were joking!”

A moment later, she sent a second message. “I’m in class.”

Yu Sheng typed back, “Won’t your teacher catch you?”

“No. I’ve got my wolf sending messages with the phone from the rooftop—using the wolf’s eyes and paws, plus sensory sharing. I’m sitting in class looking super serious.”

Reading that, Yu Sheng went slightly blank. “…You can do that?”

“I’ve been practicing for over two years. At first I could only send a simple emoji after an emergency message came in. Now I can share my wolf’s senses and play ranked duos in the battlefield,” Little Red Riding Hood replied quickly, smug pride leaking through the words. Only when she chatted like this did she sound like a relaxed minor again. “What about you? You really went and became a spirit-realm detective… so what about the two at your place? Did they register too?”

“I registered them too,” Yu Sheng typed, glancing up at Irene, who was hammering away at the keyboard without him knowing what she was doing, and at Foxy, who was wandering around the room searching for food. “But there’s only one phone…”

He paused, then added, “And even if we’re registered, once the novelty wears off, I don’t even know what we can do with it.”

“Talk it over with that doll—Irene, right? She seems to know a lot about the supernatural world.”

“She’ll tell me to go plaster flyers on the street,” Yu Sheng replied immediately. “Asking her is worse than asking you.”

“…Honestly, that’s not a bad idea,” Little Red Riding Hood sent back. Then she quickly changed course. “Still, for now, don’t think about building some grand enterprise. If you have time, read the files. There are archives shared by the Bureau for spirit-realm detectives and investigators, including special locations in the Borderland and intel on otherworlds you can enter and exit safely. Or check the public channels for new posts. Some people share intel from recent encounters. You’ll probably find it interesting. If you want to make money, look for help requests. If you’re worried about getting scammed or unsure about pricing, ask me.”

The message was long, patient, and detailed.

Even through the screen, Yu Sheng could feel that the girl who ran with wolves was sincerely trying to help.

“Thanks. That’s really useful,” he replied, genuinely grateful.

“No problem. Just a small favor. Oh right—since you registered as a spirit-realm detective, you should’ve registered a team too, right? What’s it called?”

“Hotel.”

Yu Sheng typed the name solemnly, then added, “But you probably can’t search it yet. They just took the paperwork this morning.”

“Sounds great,” Little Red Riding Hood replied quickly. It was hard to tell if she meant it or was being polite. “Maybe it’ll become a famous name in the Borderland soon?”

“Hah. From your lips to fate’s ears,” Yu Sheng typed with a laugh. “I won’t keep you from class. I’m going to explore the database.”

“Okay. Bye~”

After ending the chat, Yu Sheng let out a soft breath. Then he noticed the nonstop clacking from Irene’s side.

He finally couldn’t help walking over. “What are you doing? It’s so noisy… don’t wreck my keyboard.”

“Gaming. Someone said I’m slow, so I’m roasting them back,” Irene said, puffed up with anger. She sat cross-legged in front of the keyboard, and her whole body moved with her arms as she typed. “This keyboard is too big. It’s such a pain to use!”

Yu Sheng glanced at the screen, and his eyes went wide.

Irene was single-handedly waging war against the entire lobby. Teammates and opponents alike had all somehow become parentless in her insults. Even the game designers and the advertisers on the battle map couldn’t keep their families safe.

She wasn’t slow at all when it came to typing.

Yu Sheng was instantly awestruck.

Little Doll’s gaming skills were awful, but her trash talk was terrifying. In real life, Yu Sheng could still “punish” her a bit when she cursed. Online, though, she was completely unleashed.

But she didn’t get to be smug for long.

“I told you not to act up,” Yu Sheng laughed when he saw Irene jump up from the desk, furious. “You finally got burned, huh?”

Irene was in the middle of spitting profanity when she heard Yu Sheng’s words. She froze, then slowly turned her head.

“…Um. This is your account.”

Yu Sheng blinked.

“…What?”