"Zem yer is back." With exhaustion all over him, Zem returned to the headquarters of the National Security Bureau. After passing the guard’s inspection, he walked through the gates, removed his hat, and greeted the elderly lady behind the counter.
"Mr. Zem, welco back. Where is your adorable little companion?" The elderly lady adjusted the tiny round glasses perched on her nose.
"Jiaxi? His family sent him off on a matchmaking date." At the ntion of his old friend, Zem couldn’t help but feel the deepest regret—back in the day, Jiaxi always claid he was human, while Zem was constantly reduced to being labeled a non-human because of his half-blood identity.
And yet, this kid... Turns out his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother was a Dostic Fairy. Last month, he went through a heritage awakening, and now half-Dostic Fairy Jiaxi Sheringham has beco the most endearing existence in the eyes of all the married won in The Capital.
How wonderful. For so reason, young people with Dostic Fairy heritage have recently grown incredibly popular among the ladies... Could it have sothing to do with Lord Malin’s elastic, ever-changing appearance?
Once upon a ti, Zem prided himself on his hanger-like physique, but who would’ve thought that trends, indeed, could shift so whimsically?
"Director Zem, welco back. The Director-General has already read the report you sent earlier." A young female staff mber walked over, carrying a pile of docunts. She exchanged a few words with Zem, thanked him for helping her out earlier, then stubbornly carried off the files herself.
Is this what these modern won call equality? Such stubbornness, really.
Zem sighed and approached the counter again. "Madam, is there any new assignnt?"
"Indeed, the Director-General left oral instructions for you, Zem yer. This is for you." The elderly lady passed an envelope to him.
Zem took the letter, opened the envelope, and pulled out the paper inside.
· Zem, you handled the previous assignnt well.
The first sentence of praise was apparent even at a glance, and it brought a touch of comfort to Zem’s weary heart.
· However, now is not the ti to rest. Director Zem, please proceed imdiately with routine observation.
The second sentence was straightforward—the peculiar artifacts required constant observation. Even the Observer stationed at headquarters might miss sothing on a daily basis, hence every returned field agent had to undergo a temporary safety check.
· Next, there is a very important new task for you. Please, Director Zem, approach this assignnt with the utmost seriousness and responsibility! Rember, starting tomorrow, you must give it your absolute focus!
The third sentence, imbued with urgency, jolted Zem into attention. He couldn’t wait to read the fourth line.
· Here, on behalf of the National Security Bureau, His Majesty, and Madam, I issue you the highest mandate: Director Zem yer, proceed imdiately with your wedding to your fiancée. Rember, for this mission, stop at nothing! There is just one condition—the entire operation must be legal. We do not wish to pay your bail at court. Additionally, Director Zem, the National Security Bureau will reimburse five thousand gold for all expenses incurred during this task.
Rolling his eyes, Zem found himself uncertain how to express his emotions but eventually chuckled as he tucked the letter away. "Madam, I’ve confird my task."
"Good. Take care, young man. And please, be sure to complete your new mission well, Director Zem."
"I will, Madam." Zem stood tall, pressing a hand to his chest in salute to the elderly lady, and then walked toward the East Wing where the artifacts were housed.
"Welco ho, Director Zem." A field agent from the Operations Division grabbed his gun and followed him.
Zem nodded. "It’s you, Hill. How is our Magic Carpet these days?"
The agent, referred to as Hill, shrugged. "Still the sa. We conduct a transaction with the chanical Realm every month. The latest transaction was completed last week, still under the supervision of the Director-General. If you want details, you’ll need to ask the Director-General. I’m afraid I can’t divulge anything from my end."
"No problem. Let’s start with the Magic Carpet, then. Don’t stare at it—observe ." Zem said, arriving at the door of the carpet’s chamber. He pushed the door open.
"Director Zem, the passphrase." The agent stationed inside, responsible for monitoring, stood up.
"Old grandma kicking teeth... Who the hell ca up with this passphrase?" Zem muttered under his breath before turning his gaze to the carpet. "How’s our Magic Carpet holding up?"
"Not bad," the agent said with a grin, describing the imagery currently displayed on the Magic Carpet. "The scene recently has been a chair that looks like it’s straight out of the pre-Great Destruction Era, with a massive library backdrop, scattered tools and gears on the floor, and—for so reason—a few yarn balls... Quite bizarre, right? Even the diviners can’t figure out whose divine seat it might represent. Based on the yarn balls, they suspect it might belong to the Goddess of Fate, but the chair is far too peculiar. I an, how could the Goddess of Fate possibly be a human from the pre-Great Destruction Era?"
Hearing this explanation, Zem nodded thoughtfully. Indeed, over the years, the scenes on the Magic Carpet had grown increasingly strange... It seed to have started since its encounter with Malin. Regardless, Zem felt strongly that the Magic Carpet remained an utterly unfathomable entity to mortals. After another glance at that chair, Zem couldn’t shake the feeling.
A scene so bizarre, a setup so odd—architecture lacking divine majesty, a chair from the pre-Great Destruction Era... If the yarn balls symbolized the Goddess of Fate, then what could the grand library backdrop, tools, and gears on the floor signify? Truly an enigma.
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