Reiko Asano followed the female receptionist through the office area to reach the section housing the senior management of Tenpen. Here, there was another reception desk—separating the senior management offices from the regular staff offices, accessible only with a special access card. The female receptionist who had brought Reiko Asano said: “She’s here on an internship from the Chihaya group in Japan. She’s a second-level prosecutor, and she’s here to report for her first day.” “I know,” replied the older, more composed receptionist, who picked up the telephone and dialed the assistant to the department head, speaking with polite formality. “Emma, the new prosecutor has arrived.” After hanging up, she looked thoughtfully at Reiko Asano and remarked: “Good heavens, a second-level prosecutor—she looks so young, barely an adult. Such a talented young woman is quite rare. That’s why Head Vice Wini wanted to see her personally.” The female receptionist, guiding Haruno Reo, shrugged: "Yes, the file says she's 17, but she looks more like 15 to me. Oh, Mongolians are naturally delicate—truly, I didn't expect Japan to have such talent." The two receptionists carried on chatting without any regard for Haruno Reo's feelings. How uncivilized! Eight-ga! Haruno Reo kept her face stiff throughout, trying to appear cool and composed. Not long after, a tall woman in heels stepped out from deep within the office area. In her late thirties, with black hair and brown eyes, she had the deep-set eyes typical of Westerners. Her features weren't especially striking, but warm and gentle, with a light sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks. She swiped her work badge at the access panel, pushed open the glass door, and waved toward Haruno Reo with a smile, saying, "Come in." Haruno Reo instinctively bowed: "Yes!" The two receptionists exchanged a quiet chuckle. Emma looked at them coldly, and the laughter faded instantly. After passing through the access gate, Emma led Asano Ryouta along the corridor, saying, "I'm Emma, the assistant to Ms. Viny. Ms. Viny is your direct supervisor, but you can't go straight to her. Any work-related matters should first be reported to me, and I'll relay them to her. As for personal issues, those aren't within my scope, though since you're still young, we always offer special consideration for under-25s—so feel free to come to me for help." Her tone was calm and measured, reflecting the steady professionalism cultivated in the workplace, and her demeanor was neither distant nor overly close—just perfectly balanced. Following Emma through the wide, winding corridor, passing one office after another, they eventually stopped outside the largest, most spacious office overlooking the river. "Knock, knock!" Emma tapped gently on the office door. "Ms. Viny, our new colleague has come to report for duty." A clear, slightly stern voice answered from within, "Come in." Emma's assistant pushed open the glass door, smiled at Sayo Ryouta, and gestured for her to enter. Winny Burnt, an Eighth-Level Thunder Mage... Sayo Ryouta took a deep breath, kept her face composed, and stepped into the office. Before her stretched a massive floor-to-ceiling window, beyond which flowed the Dessen River—the river hailed as the economic lifeline of the New Covenant County. To her right was a lounge area, complete with elegant sofas, a wine cabinet, a bar counter, Western oil paintings and Chinese ink scrolls displayed on the walls, and potted plants arranged along the walls. To her left stood a spacious desk, behind which sat a woman dressed in a refined business suit. She appeared to be in her thirties—peak age for a woman's sensuality and maturity. Her wavy chestnut hair cascaded down to her shoulders, a high nose, deep-set eyes, and a beautifully curved facial structure that defined a refined, three-dimensional appearance. Her skin was pale, as if coated with a layer of frost, her long, straight brows complemented by deep, thoughtful eyes. Combined with the less softened facial contours typical of Westerners, she appeared cold and commanding. For a brief moment, Shina Ryō momentarily forgot her beauty, feeling as though facing the strict teacher, Ryōsaki Ichiro, and instinctively holding her breath, becoming slightly reserved. Vine Burnt glanced at Shina Ryō, pulled a document from the pile on her left, opened it, and began speaking as she read: "According to the files, you were once a member of Yuan Shi Tian Zun's faction?" Upon hearing the name "Yuan Shi Tian Zun," Shina Ryō felt a wave of sorrow, her reserved demeanor softening as she quietly replied, "Yes." Vine's department head sensed her sadness and gently asked, "Has he ever told you that he is a descendant of the Mage King?" Ah?! Shina Ryō was stunned, her eyes wide with surprise. Noticing her expression, Vine already knew the answer and continued, "What was your position within the faction?" "Shinoyama Ryō didn’t respond right away. It took her a full minute to process the news, then said: 'The members of the faction have strong personal ties and no clear hierarchy. I’m actually the lowest-ranked among them, yet they never treat me as inferior.' Vine nodded lightly, her gaze deep and thoughtful: 'In the world of the Spirit Realm travelers, besides lovers and parents, the closest relationships are those within the faction. Before the Primordial Heavenly Sovereign returned to the Spirit Realm, did he leave any specific instructions or belongings behind? For instance, a portable speaker.' Pausing, she added: 'Something like that.' Shinoyama Ryō looked puzzled: 'I’m truly sorry, but I don’t know.' A flicker of disappointment passed through Vine’s eyes, and she asked: 'I’d like you to provide a list of the Primordial Heavenly Sovereign’s faction members.' Shinoyama Ryō instinctively wanted to decline, but held back, bowing slightly: 'Vine Director, I’d like to first seek their opinions.' Vine nodded gently: 'Please respond as soon as possible—you’re due to leave now.' “… I need the audio recordings from the Mage King and Wei Ning.” In the bedroom, Zhang Yuanqing held the Cat King speaker as if a devout believer had made a solemn vow. The Cat King speaker lay quietly in his hands, unresponsive. At the bedside, Lady Yin Yao raised her small microphone. “It says, ‘equal exchange.’” “I don’t have any audio clips to offer.” “It wants songs.” “How do you know what it wants?” “Intuition!” Lady Yin Yao remained expressionless, her crimson eyes poignant. “Master Yuan Shi, I no longer want my hat back. Let me play outside instead.” Having stayed inside the little red hat for several days, Lady Yin Yao now reemerged, learning that Zhang Yuanqing had journeyed to the distant foreign lands of the barbarians. Her ambition to explore the world grew stronger. “You can be useful during battles, but for daily life, you’ll be too overwhelming. I haven’t yet figured out how to make your presence credible—let’s discuss that later.” Zhang Yuanqing firmly declined. Ignoring the irritable duchess, he pulled out his phone, intending to play music as a gesture of equal exchange. At that moment, the doorbell rang. Then, from the living room, Anne's awkward Chinese came through: "Husband, the landlord's wife has arrived." The landlord's wife? What was she doing here—hadn't they already had lunch yesterday? Didn't they need to thank her again? Zhang Yuanqing picked up the little red hat on the table, and returned the silver-pearl duchess and the Cat King speaker to her. He left the bedroom and went to the living room, where he found the landlord's wife and Cao Qianxiu sitting on the sofa, waiting. Upon seeing him come out, the graceful young woman gave a slight nod. Zhang Yuanqing returned a smile, sat down opposite the two, and said: "Unfortunately, breakfast has already ended. Otherwise, I'd have invited you both for breakfast." The landlord's wife, with slightly high cheekbones, waved her hand and got straight to the point: "Mr. Zhang, I'd like to ask you for a favor. My daughter isn't doing well in her studies. I'd like you to help her with tutoring “Zhang Yuanqing agreed immediately: “No problem. Thank you, Mrs. landlord, for giving me this opportunity to earn some extra income.” Mrs. landlord smiled: “I’ll give you a high school exam paper later tonight. I’d like to assess your level and see how well you hold up—please understand.” “No problem!” Zhang Yuanqing chuckled lightly: “As long as they don’t make me teach foreign languages, everything else is fine.” After settling on the tutoring arrangement, Mrs. landlord felt satisfied and led her daughter home. Zhang Yuanqing turned to Anne, who was wiping the plates, and said: “Come with me for a while. The trial task assigned by the Hunter’s Guild seems a bit odd—only an address has been provided, and the reward seekers have asked us to meet personally to discuss the details.” “What do you think, Anne?” Anne thought for a moment and replied: “It might be that the task content needs to remain confidential and not be widely advertised, which is why a personal meeting is required. Right now, you’re a little invisible to everyone—so you shouldn’t worry about being outmaneuvered.” Zhang Yuanqing nodded: “That’s exactly what I thought. Then, let’s "Once Anne had changed into her clothes and the two of them stepped out together, they just happened to meet Cao Qianxiu, who was carrying her schoolbag and heading off to class. Inside the elevator, Zhang Yuanqing glanced at the graceful side profile of the young woman and couldn't help but ask, 'You're not even a fire specialist—why do you perform so poorly academically?' Cao Qianxiu responded with a cold expression, 'First, I don't want to study. Second, I simply lack the talent for studying.' Zhang Yuanqing found himself momentarily at a loss for words. Human talents vary widely, yet the curriculum in schools remains limited—poor academic performance simply indicates that one's talent lies outside those specific subjects. Therefore, academic performance is related to intelligence, but not necessarily strongly so. Zhang Yuanqing said, 'I understand now. With that in mind, I know exactly how to design my teaching plan.' Cao Qianxiu turned to him, her bright, polished eyes fixed on him, asking, 'Then, how do you intend to teach?' Zhang Yuanqing replied, 'I have a bachelor's-level tool that can transform someone into a top student over a short period. During exams "Cao Qian's eyes lit up: 'Master... I've heard of this profession. It's said that each master possesses extraordinary wisdom and profound knowledge, excelling in medicine and weapon crafting—indeed, even the world's top scientists can't match them. Excellent. You're worth one hour and fifty dollars.'" "Masters aren't as prestigious as you make them out to be," S Zhang Yuanqing remarked. "The ones I know are just tightening screws." "I thought you'd firmly decline," Zhang Yuanqing said. "No," Cao Qian shook her head, speaking seriously, "Master Lei can also have flexible boundaries." Zhang Yuanqing smiled, "You clearly understand what boundaries mean." The two exchanged a warm smile, and the world where only the landlord's wife was injured was finally settled. Cao Qian's smile grew brighter. "By the way, I still don't know your spiritual realm ID." "The Supreme Master of Heaven!" "The Supreme Master of Heaven... that name sounds familiar," Cao Qian said. "Judge Cao, this is my spiritual realm ID." "She is a native of the Free Federation, though she has studied Chinese since childhood, she is not very familiar with the culture of her homeland." "Judge?" Zhang Yuanqing studied the young woman. Cao Qianxiu spoke seriously, "My childhood dream was to become a judge, just like my father." "Your father isn't a restaurant owner, is he?" Zhang Yuanqing was taken aback. Cao Qianxiu looked at him, "In fact, my father's dream was also to become a judge." Zhang Yuanqing: "...” ... At 10:30 a.m., Zhang Yuanqing and Anne took a taxi to a well-known restaurant in Queens. Guided by the server, the two, transformed through magic and disguise, entered the private dining room reserved by their employer. The room was modest in size but offered excellent privacy. At a small round table sat an elderly man with white hair at the temples. He wore a well-tailored suit, with a broad waist and a rounded face. His gaze was calm and composed, and his poised demeanor—evident in his attire and the watch on his left wrist—indicated that he was a highly Standing behind the middle-aged white man were two black-clad bodyguards. His gaze drifted among the two people who had entered the room, brightening suddenly upon seeing Anne, only to dim again with a look of disappointment—Anne was ordinary in appearance, with rough skin. The white man spoke in a steady tone, "Who among you is the master of the heavens?" Zhang Yuanqing didn't respond; instead, he pulled out a chair and sat down—an action that spoke volumes. The white man nodded slightly, his light gray eyes fixed on Zhang Yuanqing, saying, "My mission details are confidential, so I can only invite you here. Travel expenses can be reimbursed by me." "Compared to a business deal worth two million, travel costs are merely a minor matter," Zhang Yuanqing said, speaking with a somewhat awkward foreign accent. As long as the other party didn't go on at length, simple conversation was manageable for him. The white man said seriously, "I'd like to hire you to kill someone." He reached into his pocket and placed a photograph on the table. Zhang Yuanqing studied the man on the photo closely. The man had deep brown skin, thick lips, a shaved head, a lean face, extensive tattoos covering his upper arms, and a fierce, threatening gaze. "I need more information," he said, looking at the middle-aged white man. When the white man had pulled out the photo, Zhang Yuanqing sensed a deep, enduring resentment radiating from him.