-1-

Inside the Horror Maintenance Department, office.

Mr. P worked overtime until 1:37.

...He hates working overtime.

Putting aside other things, Mr. P’s dislike for overtime comes from the bottom of his heart.

-2-

Because he has been working under a bad boss for 49 years, he has a history of working overtime for 49 years as well.

It will be the 50th anniversary in a few days.

"Working overtime for 50 years" would definitely earn him an award like "King of Corporate Animals" in the real world.

...But Mr. P is not a corporate slave. It is neither society nor the system that forces him to work overtime.

It’s Miss M.

So, to put it accurately, pertinently and without any extraneous meaning, Mr. P is Miss M’s beast.

Not a corporate slave, but a M slave.

-3-

Moreover, this M-animal angel would never curse his boss like office workers curse the society. No matter how much overtime he has to work, he can always carry a bag of unfinished complaints and say, "My boss is very cute."

...So sometimes his colleagues felt that he was a bit devilish.

-4-

That's getting off topic.

In short, the complaints handled by this M animal could probably form thousands of star belts. Maybe one day he would create a terrifying world called "Don't Want to Work Overtime".

"Overtime" is really scary.

Scarier than ghosts.

Today is also... the repair of public facilities destroyed by the boss's rampage... the memory cleansing of the onlookers frightened by the boss's rampage... the complaints from the neighboring small worlds affected by the boss's rampage... complaints... complaints... complaints...

Even someone as efficient as Mr. P has to work overtime until the early hours of the morning.

Especially since Mr. T, who was punished by Miss M this time, has a special identity. He has to go to the purchasing department tomorrow to meet the main system and prepare materials for at least three meetings.

——Oh, what? The boss should be the one to deal with other departments?

Miss M would ignore troublesome matters. As a resentful boss who usually lies on the sofa reading magazines in the office, forcing her to do these boring official duties will only lead to bloodshed.

-5-

Colleagues from other departments also understood the special situation of the Horror Maintenance Department, and they hoped that only Mr. P would come forward.

Great! An angel has arrived. Today is a safe day.

-6-

...Finally, it's over for now.

I'll put the remaining complaint reports in my backpack and take them with me. I'll deal with them tomorrow when I attend a meeting with another department...

Mr. P stood up and looked at the clock on the wall.

I didn’t eat lunch or dinner... After finishing overtime, I realized I was a little hungry.

I wanted to order some midnight snack and finish a few reports while eating.

...But at this point, it’s better not to trouble our robot colleagues who are already sleeping at night.

Even a robot would feel annoyed if someone called it out of bed in the early morning to cook.

-7-

Just have something to eat when you get back to the dormitory.

There should still be toast and peanut butter in the cupboard.

Angel considerately gave up ordering takeout and turned to walk out of the office.

Just as he was about to lock the door, the light screen in his office flashed again.

"Hello, hello, is anyone there?"

The student asked cautiously from the other end, "That gentleman gave me this strange number... He said I could contact him anytime if I had any further problems..."

Mr. P: “…”

ah.

He smiled and thought: I almost forgot. I haven’t completely erased this classmate’s memory.

-8-

It takes a lot of effort to delete the mosaics created by Miss M that were once reflected on his retina. After deleting all the images created by Miss M's sickle, he cannot delete the memory for the second time in a short period of time, otherwise it will damage the student's brain.

So the young client still remembers Mr. P, and still remembers that he almost fell into a dangerous weird story and reached a strange deal with an adult.

Before leaving, Mr. P left him a set of coordinates for contacting his public communication channel. As long as the student dialed the phone, the voice would be projected here - because he had to fulfill his promise to help him get the class monitor back.

However, there is a time difference between the worlds.

According to the time flow rate in the 198 world, it was already 11 o'clock in the morning on the third day after the No. 999 bus incident for the students, while only a few hours had passed in Mr. P's office in the system world.

"Hello? Are you not here... Oh, please leave a message if you need anything..."

The student sounded nervous and flustered: "Ahem, sir, it's like this... After I returned to school from the hospital... I found that Class Monitor Qianqian was missing... Class Monitor, she, she..."

Mr. P: “…”

"I heard she disappeared three days ago... She hasn't been to school since... I, I can't contact her..."

Mr. P: “…”

"I looked for many classmates and teachers... I even asked the police for help... but, no, I couldn't find the class monitor..."

Mr. P: “…”

The student's trembling voice gradually became firm: "Today, I, I received a text message... saying that the class monitor is in the school's Teaching Building No. 9... But, but our school doesn't have a Teaching Building No. 9... Behind Teaching Building No. 8 is a cemetery..."

Mr. P: “…”

-9-

Mr. P's gaze drifted and fell on another light screen that sensed something and slowly opened.

The data light spot flashed across the mark 199 (198-1), and the blue light spot turned into red, indicating abnormal operation.

Detecting abnormal fluctuations

[First assessment, difficulty level A]

【Please access the maintenance entrustment, please access】

Mr. P: “…”

The young client said, "I, I'll leave a message for you, sir... I'm going to go to school tonight and look for Building 9... If you hear me, sir, please come and help me!"

Mr. P: “…”

-10-

Mr. P closed the door with considerable force.

Close and lock the door.

It was sent after 1:00 AM. The maintenance department employees shouldn't be in the office after 1:00 AM.

So, as an employee, I didn't see this information at all.

Mr. P smiled and thought, overtime is over, now it’s my off-get off work self.

What is needed now is a midnight snack, relaxation and sleep.

-11-

What does it matter? He has been working overtime until now and doesn’t want to care.

-12-

Anyway, it's a horror little world rated A, which is enough for the boss to take action. Tomorrow, Miss M will excitedly run over to solve the (massacre) bug.

Even if he ran to the rescue despite being exhausted from working overtime until the early morning, there was nothing he could do. He was just an ordinary civilian employee and would only be picked up and beaten by the boss.

-13-

...Mr. P put the unexpected voice and notification behind him. He got off the elevator, went out, and drove back to the dormitory.

A mature M-animal is someone who can skillfully put certain things behind him at certain moments, otherwise he will not be able to face the hardships of life.

The same is true for angels.

When he walked into the kitchen, about to spread peanut butter on his toast, he saw the empty Blizzard ice cream cup thrown in the trash, and the table was covered with peanut butter in retaliation - the scene was so tragic, as if someone had murdered peanuts and then used their blood (peanut butter) to write a complaint saying "No Oreos at all" -...

Mr. P also cleverly put it aside and left the kitchen.

-14-

Please complain to the maker of the Blizzard Ice Cream for not having Oreos in it, and don't ruin my table and peanut butter.

...Forget it, just let him kill me, so that he won’t have to deal with the ice cream shop clerk’s tragedy at work tomorrow.

-15-

And peanut butter is pretty good. At least it looks much better than the last time my boss used ketchup to write a "No to Scrambled Eggs with Chinese Toona" complaint on my sink.

The visual effect was so realistic that Mr. P, who was halfway through brushing his teeth, rushed out of the bathroom and searched the dormitory for 30 minutes, trying to find the unidentified body that had died from the scrambled eggs with Chinese toon.

In the end, his boss pointed at the toothpaste stain and laughed at him for three hours.

"It's ketchup, Little P doesn't even know how to taste it, hahahaha, Little P is so stupid."

...Who would taste it? Who would reach out and taste the blood words written on the washbasin?

Besides, I was brushing my teeth. It's common sense not to taste anything while brushing my teeth.

Besides, a body that has been drained of blood cannot be left on the floor for a full half hour. It would be difficult to clean up. I was also in a hurry.

-17-

…Anyway, tonight.

Mr. P spent another ten minutes cleaning the peanut butter on the dining table. After that, he had no appetite anymore, so he went straight to take a shower and went back to the bedroom to prepare for bed.

As mentioned earlier, Mr. P's bedroom is in the attic, far away from Ms. M's bedroom, and should be very safe.

He crawled into the quilt, lay down and closed his eyes.

-18-

Fell asleep quickly.

-19-

...It's not this kind of "falling asleep".

Mr. P opened his eyes in his dream and looked at the dark blue light in front of him, speechless.

He has very good sleep quality and doesn't dream.

Ultimately, the undead simply don't have the ability to "dream." This is an advanced ability only possessed by living humans.

Unless the main system allocates extra energy to allow this undead's subconscious to form a dream—

But Mr. P doesn't think it's a pity that as a dead spirit he can't dream naturally.

According to the theory that what you think about during the day you dream about at night...

His dreams must be all about Miss M.

Miss M's traps, Miss M's attacks, Miss M's cackles.

...I can't sleep like that. Absolutely not.

-20-

"Master system? Are you there? If you contact me late at night, please be in advance..."

After all, in the system world, only the main system can make employees dream. He must want to pull me in to talk about some little secrets. There have been several times in the past when he complained to me tearfully that M was so fierce.

Mr. P took a few steps forward, but immediately stopped.

Not far away, thousands of crimson lights gathered together, surrounding a figure like fireflies.

The woman has curved eyelashes and long black hair.

She turned around, like a soft light in the cold data, and her smile seemed to be able to heal everything.

"Hello, Little P."

The woman who looked exactly like her boss smiled and said, "I'm the former M. I wanted to come and talk to you."

-twenty one-

Mr. P looked at her, and the corners of his mouth, which were habitually raised, gradually flattened.

The woman tilted her head: "Xiao P?"

"...It is a courtesy to show the necessary sincerity before communicating with strangers, young lady."

Mr. P said calmly, "I'm not close enough to you to call you by a nickname."

The woman blinked her dark eyes.

Although her eyes were of the same shape and color, when she looked at others steadily, there was not the slightest coldness in her eyes.

It was as soft as a pool of water held up by the spring light.

But what she faced was the same soft, harmless, sunny sea.

"I'm very sleepy and need sleep."

Mr. P smiled again. "Please tell me what deal you want to make by calling me here."

-twenty two-

A soft smile and a gentle smile.

Beautiful mask and beautiful mask.

-twenty three-

After a while.

The woman made a "tsk" sound.

"Not bad."

She crossed her arms, and her graceful and beautiful posture immediately tilted - shoulders tilted, arms tilted, mouth tilted -

The black-haired, black-eyed, and scoundrel-like fellow said, shaking his legs, "Not bad, kid, you're the first one who can tell us apart at a glance."

Mr. P laughed, "We're not close enough to call each other by nicknames, Miss. This is my second warning."

"What? M can call me that, but I can't? I'm exactly like her."

"No, miss. I'm sorry."

"ha……"

The scoundrel reached out and grabbed Mr. P by the collar.

"Take off your mask and talk to me nicely, you evil dog with ulterior motives," she said coldly. "Otherwise, with your hypocritical attitude, don't even think about touching my lovely and precious sister."

-twenty four-

"If you dare to touch her, I'll chop off one of your fingers."

-25-

Mr. P: “…”

Mr. P immediately put away his official smile.

He raised a more sunny version: "Hello, sister-in-law."

-26-

"roll."

-27-

...About five minutes later, Mr. P dodged the cold light that was about to chop his fingers, and the woman resumed her relatively virtuous standing posture.

"Although it's annoying that a vicious dog covered in black mud would follow my sister...but, you've passed the test by being able to tell us apart at a glance."

She shook her head and said directly, "Let's get to know each other again, P. You can call me W for now."

W? M's reflection?

"There's already a Miss W in the maintenance department. I know her."

W waved his hand. "There's actually a tiny @ sign in the lower right corner of W's ID. That's because my sister doesn't really want my ID to be taken by someone else... It's so childish and cute."

Mr. P: "Indeed, Miss M is very childish and very cute."

"Shut up. You vicious dog, you're not allowed to call my sister cute. Put away your fangs."

Mr. P smiled. "I don't have fangs, Ms. W. My teeth are very neat."

snort.

W's unhappy expression reappeared: "If I were still alive, if I were still an employee of the System World... a vicious dog like you... would never be able to stay by my sister's side and covet her..."

Mr. P smiled even more friendly. "It's normal for a cute little sister to attract the attention of the opposite sex. Miss, are you some twisted, deep-seated sister complex?"

Miss W also responded with a gentle smile: "So what? Having such a lovely sister and not having a sister complex is a waste of resources."

"Well, I think you're right, Miss M is very cute. Unlike you, who appears sunny on the outside but is inexplicably rugged on the inside. You are rugged in the subtlest places. Talking to you here is really unbearable for me."

"Haha, me too."

-28-

...After about two minutes, the two harmless guys who were greeting each other with smiles realized that this would never end.

I don't like it.

The other party just doesn't like it at all.

I wish I could tear off his/her annoying smile and show M how hypocritical it is.

But I can't really do it... Tsk...

——Then there is no need to waste more time with him/her.

-29-

Mr. P asked directly: "So, you are Ms. M's...?"

"I can be considered your twin sister," W replied. "I died a long, long time ago, long before the system world was officially established."

"You are now a dead soul..."

"No, I died as an ordinary human. It was a very ordinary death. I didn't become a ghost after death... So I shouldn't exist in the system world now, or anywhere else. To M, I'm her long-dead sister, nothing more. I didn't participate in what that child went through afterwards... I died too young."

W flicked his fingertips impatiently, and a crimson dot of light rolled around and floated away.

Mr. P's gaze drifted away following the rolling light.

"Since you died early, and it all ended early," he asked gently, "What are you doing out now? Are there too many bugs in the grave? Can you tell me the location of the grave, and I'll go and help you get rid of the bugs and weeds. That way, you can quickly become a Buddha and disappear, right?"

Tsk.

"I really want to pull out your fangs... You're just a vicious dog... How dare you touch my sister..."

"Well, but you're completely dead and can't do anything. Otherwise, you wouldn't have called me here to share some little secret with me. What do you want me to do?"

-30-

The small crimson light disappeared into the darkness.

Mr. P turned around.

"Or," the smile in his eyes gradually faded, "are you here to seek justice for your ex-boyfriend, Mr. T?"

W frowned and shook his head suddenly.

Like swiping away an annoying fly.

"How is that possible? He deserves to die." She said with disgust, "Greasy trash, you dare to touch my sister with your dirty hands. Helping M to kill him is a rare good deed you did."

"...You're so disgusted with him, and he's still your ex-boyfriend."

W's expression became even more disgusted.

"Boyfriends are like garbage on the ground. You pick one up and use it, then throw it away if it's no longer useful. If T wasn't so rich back then and always voluntarily handed over his salary card to me so that I could buy lots of pretty dresses for my sister... who would have bothered to please that greasy guy? Ugh. I dumped him after his salary was drained. He claimed to be a good earner, but he couldn't even afford a few dresses for my sister. He was trash."

Mr. P: “…”

Mr. P: Mr. T, you were swindled miserably. Not only was I betrayed, but I was also cheated out of money.

"That kind of rubbish deserves to be cheated on. He couldn't tell us apart after dating for years... I don't even want to introduce him to my precious sister. It would be so greasy that it would make her pretty eyes ache."

Mr. P thought about it, then put aside his sympathy and nodded in agreement: "You're right."

"Well, I didn't come to you for that garbage at all. If you couldn't tell us apart, I wouldn't continue to stand here, enduring my annoyance and talking to a vicious dog like you."

W frowned. "That immortality game—it appeared recently. I don't know if you've noticed it. It's not a simple, low-level game that can be destroyed with a virus."

-31-

really.

Mr. P picked up a small speck of light that was floating over.

"Is it related to the 'abnormal fluctuations' detected by the Observation Department in different worlds some time ago?"

"related."

"The Plague and Highway 999..."

"related."

"They must have persuaded Mr. T to rebel."

"Yes."

"I'm receiving more and more complaints, and the overtime workload is getting heavier..."

W: This seems to be my beloved sister’s fault.

…But my sister is so cute, how can I blame her!

She nodded confidently, "It's all the work of the organization behind the 'Eternal Life Game'! It's all the organization's fault!"

Mr. P crushed the light on his fingertips and smiled very softly.

"I see. I understand."

-32-

cough.

It’s not misleading... It’s not misleading.

Ms. W continued confidently, "In short, the reason I'm here, able to talk to you, is because of that organization behind the Immortality Game. They seem to be stealing the energy the main system receives during missions, trying to revive 'me'... I don't know where this false information came from, but this organization believes 'me' is the opposite of M, and can use 'me'..."

ah.

Mr. P nodded and interrupted her.

"I know the information you're talking about. I found it while carrying out my superiors' orders and investigating the Banshee. It does have subtle feasibility."

He changed the subject: "Since they believe you are the opposite of the rumor and are trying to resurrect you... in other words..."

"The ultimate goal of the 'Eternal Life Game' is to completely kill Miss M."

-33-

Miss W said indifferently, "Those bastards. They can't succeed. I'm just an ordinary human being, but my sister is different. She is the most powerful and lovely baby in the world. Even if they were given ten million chances, they wouldn't be able to kill M... but..."

Mr. P: “But…?”

"But even if they fail, they still have to pay the price."

W stretched out his hand and stopped in front of Mr. P's hand.

"So, according to the rules, I'm going to entrust you with a commission. A maintenance commission that names you."

She spread her fingertips and gave a soft, harmless smile.

"Those who dare to touch my sister must die. Die completely. Don't leave even a trace of them."

-34-

"Although I have no objection to the content of your commission."

Mr. P flashed the same harmless, gentle smile. "However, this is a task outside of the Horror Maintenance Department, bypassing the main system and not counting towards any bonus performance. What compensation will I get for accepting this commission?"

"...I have 37 large photo albums, a collection of photos of my sister when she was little, vacuum-sealed under my tombstone."

Mr. P stretched out his hand quickly and shook hands with her.

-35-

"Good client. No problem client."