Chapter 223: Dual Missions
Chapter 223: Dual Missions
“Qinggang nuclear weapon?”
Upon hearing these words, Lu Xin inexplicably felt his scalp tingle.
He faintly recalled that this seemed to be humanity’s most powerful weapon before the Crimson Moon Incident.
But after the Crimson Moon Incident, this weapon had suddenly rarely been mentioned.
Weapons were meant to deal with, or rather deter enemies—yet people now clearly couldn’t change the moon’s color with nuclear weapons.
…
…
“So my job is to babysit a bomb?”
Having regained his composure, Lu Xin silently flipped through the materials accompanying the electronic contract.
Marked “Top Secret” on its header, the document revealed mostly minor details upon opening.
For example, under “Diet”:
Doll would only eat visually appealing foods—sweet and mild in flavor.
No liquids like soups; nothing that would stain her hands upon touch.
She exclusively drank plain water—rejected all beverages, coffee, even warm water.
Food must be placed where she could see it; otherwise she’d forget to eat.
Note: As a child, Doll never actively sought food. Only when others brought food would she eat. Left unattended, she’d starve to death before asking for sustenance.
…
…
After meticulously reviewing each entry about interacting with this girl, Lu Xin scratched his head.
“I can manage these details… but I have one question.”
“What about my conference?”
“…”
Over the comms, Chen Jing paused briefly at his words. “Conference?”
“Yes,” Lu Xin replied. “The Advanced Talent Training Conference. Check-in starts tomorrow at nine, right?”
“You’re still thinking about the conference…”
Even Chen Jing couldn’t suppress a laugh. After muffled discussions beside her—the background noise abruptly silenced, suggesting others had left—she answered: “Don’t concern yourself. Han Bing will compile the minutes for you, counting you as attended. As for other matters—”
She added candidly: “Are you worried about progressing to your Second Stage?”
Lu Xin admitted: “Yes.”
He neither knew nor cared about the conference agenda.
This trip was solely for the Second Stage.
“I’m aware you submitted the Second Stage application.”
Chen Jing spoke plainly: “It’s approved, and preparations are underway. Expect contact soon. Security clearance for this exceeds my tier—I don’t know the specifics. Personally, I oversee conference security and the Doll assignment.”
“Naturally, I’ll coordinate to ensure tending to Doll doesn’t delay your Second Stage schedule.”
“…”
“Oh. Alright…” Lu Xin responded, then inquired: “I assumed you’d oversee the Second Stage.”
“It’s beyond my jurisdiction now,” Chen Jing chuckled.
Lu Xin pressed: “Who handles it?”
After a reflective pause, she answered: “Professor Bai.”
Lu Xin clarified: “The one who quotes proverbs?”
Chen Jing’s voice warmed with amusement. “Correct.”
“That significant?”
Lu Xin inquired no further. He recognized Professor Bai’s position: effectively Chen Jing’s superior—thus his own superior’s superior.
By corporate-equivalent hierarchy? Comparable to Deputy General Manager Xiao.
Seeing no grounds for refusal, Lu Xin focused on his Main City priority:
“One last question: Were Deputy General Manager Xiao’s stepmother’s interrogation results released?”
“You’re still concerned about this?”
Chen Jing clearly sounded surprised.
“Yes, I keep feeling this matter isn’t over yet…”
After a moment of thought, Lu Xin slowly replied, “Besides, it’s ultimately my task, so I should be the one to complete it, right?”
He didn’t tell Chen Jing about his intention to seek help from the kind Dreamweaver-type; after all, it involved some personal motive. Speaking of it now, he felt rather uneasy. His leader Chen Jing was quite sharp, and he worried she might notice something.
However, hearing Lu Xin’s words, Chen Jing only recalled his earlier firm determination to chase after the Knights Order outside the city.
In the eyes of many Researchers in the Special Clean-up Department, wasn’t this a manifestation of the Lone Soldier’s “obsessive-compulsive tendencies”?
She didn’t refute this, merely saying, “The interrogation results regarding that woman should have been submitted earlier, but I haven’t had the chance to look at them yet. If you want to take responsibility for this matter, I’ll bring it up. If approved, you might be able to carry out both tasks concurrently.”
“……”
“Alright.”
Only then did Lu Xin truly feel reassured.
The channel remained connected, but the communication mode was adjusted to prevent disturbing the other party.
Confirming the channel had quietened down, Lu Xin stretched lazily and turned towards the girl.
She sat kneeling on the carpet, her back to him, intently assembling small plastic blocks in her hands. Calculating the time, he realized she’d been playing for at least five or six hours since he’d taken her remote control, without showing a hint of boredom?
“The Qinggang Nuclear Weapon…”
Lu Xin recalled her title again and shook his head slightly.
Such a pretty girl, appearing harmless and even somewhat adorable—how did she get such a moniker?
Although Chen Jing’s description had already made him aware of her terrifying nature, he still found it hard to connect the two images.
But, to be fair, all he had to do was stay here with her, occasionally speak to her on Chen Jing’s behalf when necessary, and this would count as a B-grade task worth hundreds of thousands in reward… it really was an excellent assignment, offering high value for the effort…
He just didn’t know how much longer he needed to accompany her for the task completion.
As Lu Xin was thinking this, the room’s lighting gradually dimmed.
From bright to soft, yet not extinguished—as if precisely calibrated.
Wondering what was happening, Lu Xin saw the girl, engrossed in play on the floor, slowly lift her head. After noticing the light change, she hesitated, put down her toy, and floated lightly into the bathroom.
After quite some time, the sound of splashing water from the showerhead came from inside.
“Ah, this…”
Lu Xin’s scalp tingled with unease. Stiffly, he walked over and closed the bathroom door for her.
As the door was about to shut, Lu Xin saw the “Doll” under the spray, looking back at him with curious, confused eyes.
An awkward wave of his hand – “Have to close this” – and he averted his gaze.
Seven minutes and fifteen seconds later, the girl emerged, having shed her thermal underwear for cozy pajamas.
She then walked straight to the bed and quietly slid under the covers.
“Going to sleep already?”
Lu Xin was surprised, watching her lie there, suddenly serene.
His mind momentarily floundered—where was he supposed to sleep?
“The floor below has a room prepared for you. You can rest now.”
Chen Jing’s voice came through the channel. “Doll maintains a strict sleep schedule. She instinctively adheres to these patterns.”
Lu Xin nodded, picked up his backpack, and prepared to slip away quietly.
However, barely having shifted his feet, he saw the girl—who seemed to have fallen asleep—suddenly sit upright. Spotting him near the door, she paused. Though visibly reluctant, she slowly began to push back the comforter, ready to rise.
“No need…”
Lu Xin quickly stopped her. “I need to rest too.”
A puzzled expression touched Doll’s face.
“Sleep…”
Lu Xin carefully mimed the action, placing his hands together beneath his tilted head against his left cheek.
Doll seemed to understand. She scooted slightly sideways, freeing up more than half the bed for him.
“Huh?”
Lu Xin blinked, momentarily dumbfounded.
Chen Jing on the channel sounded equally puzzled. “What’s happening?”
Lu Xin stared at the significant space now offered. After a quiet moment, he explained, “She… left room for me on the bed.”
“What?”
Chen Jing’s voice betrayed sudden alarm. “That’s… problematic.”
“Yeah…”
Lu Xin agreed. “I’m not accustomed to sharing a bed.”
“……”
Chen Jing felt Lu Xin might have misunderstood something, yet saw no need to explain further. “Try telling her to stay put.”
Lu Xin nodded seriously, focusing on Doll. “You stay here. Sleep. Don’t follow me.”
Beneath the soft light, Doll’s expression wavered in confusion. After a long moment, the corners of her mouth appeared to curve down. Her eyes grew misty, distant.
She looked as if she were about to cry.
“Well… looks like I can’t leave now.”
Lu Xin sighed with quiet resignation and walked back towards the bed.
Chen Jing tensed. “What?”
“Because it seems she’s about to shed tears.”
Lu Xin answered helplessly, yet with a sense of responsibility. “You emphasized the critical rule: prevent emotional fluctuations, or at least ensure they’re positive ones. If I leave now… doesn’t that count as causing negative emotion?”
“True…”
Chen Jing’s hesitation was palpable. “But you…”
Lu Xin sighed, the sound carrying a touch of martyrdom. “I’ll just sleep here tonight, then.”
“……”
Chen Jing was contemplating whether she should first consult higher authorities when Lu Xin’s voice sounded again in the channel.
“This sofa is way too small. I can’t even lie down properly on it.”
“……”
For a moment, Chen Jing found herself utterly speechless.