Chapter 6

6 Third-Class Processor

This hidden trait… Scapegoat?

Seeing the glaring words “Terminated,” Leon, who had just crawled out of “hell,” shuddered instinctively and tried to remove the badge—but received the feedback “Cannot be removed temporarily,” forcing him to reluctantly give up and instead silently pray.

Heaven protect me—during these next two months before this badge upgrades to Bronze, the Cleanup Bureau must not have any major incidents. My whole family relies on this job to turn things around, and Anna’s illness…

Right! Anna!

Remembering his sister still lying on a hospital bed awaiting treatment, Leon, newly hired, immediately requested leave, then rushed out of the Cleanup Bureau to use his newly acquired benefits and secure better care for Anna.

After he hurried away, the Black Goat, who had been silently watching, clucked twice and smirked at the Red-haired Woman:

“Heh! You didn’t even want him to know what the Cleanup Bureau does—so you didn’t plan to assign him missions, right?”

What’s this? You noticed the kid’s desperate, felt pity, and decided to pull him up?”

“No.”

Pulling out another bottle of wine from nowhere, the Red-haired Woman swallowed a large gulp, then wiped the smile from her face and spoke coldly:

“The more truth humans encounter, the deeper they’re tainted by the Dark Side, and the more their scent attracts new anomalies.”

Leon’s talent is excellent, but the Bureau is short-staffed and can’t spare anyone to guard him constantly. I’ve temporarily blocked this part of his memory to keep anomalies from finding him.”

As for the specifics of his duties, we’ll tell him later—once we find an appropriate taint object for him.”

Pfft—he’s got zero talent!

The Black Goat sneered, utterly dismissing her explanation:

“Don’t lie! Sure, he withstood our [Whispers of Corruption], but that doesn’t mean his willpower is strong—he’s just relatively rational and has a slightly better moral compass than most.

In my view, a guy like him, whose spirit has been completely crushed, who’s grown used to obeying like a sheep, is worse than death-row conscripts meant to be cannon fodder—he won’t even survive his first mission.”

“He’ll survive.”

Without revealing Leon’s “anomaly” to the Black Goat, the Red-haired Woman took another deep swig of ale, then said calmly:

“I’ll take him on his first few missions. Emma’s assignment is nearly done—she’ll be back tonight.

If I’m free afterward, I’ll guide him. If not, Emma will take over until he can stand on his own.”

So you’re babying him that much? What’s so special about this kid?”

“Don’t you dare mess with him!”

The Black Goat frowned, visibly annoyed:

“The Bureau’s performance is calculated by the number of regular members. Our Sixth Bureau is second-to-last in rankings. Two months until year-end review—now you bring in such a massive liability? Afraid you won’t be last?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t care!”

The Black Goat sneered:

“You’ve killed more people than I’ve ever seen in my life—I’ve always admired you, except when you go around playing the bleeding heart.

You’re the most insane executioner in the entire Cleanup Bureau. Just stick to your job. Why pretend to be a saint? Don’t you know how repulsive you look when you play the good Samaritan?”

“Oh.”

“...”

“Tch… You really think pulling that kid up will save his life?”

Watching the Red-haired Woman drink with cold indifference, clearly uninterested in responding, the Black Goat’s face darkened.

He couldn’t help sneering:

“I know humans too well. If they’ve been struggling in darkness, they can endure it through numb habit—but now you’ve dragged him onto shore, shown him what sunlight looks like, and there’s no going back.

When he fails the year-end review, gets fired, and feels the fall from heaven back to hell, he might go mad—or worse, like that one before, he’ll hate you for pulling him up…”

By the way, what did that one say again?”

Striding boldly into the dim office, the Black Goat sank into the plush sofa, crossed his legs, and, right before the silent Red-haired Woman, lifted his front hooves to mimic with mocking glee:

“I hate it! Olivia! I hate you!

I could’ve kept enduring the darkness—why did you drag me into the sunlight and show me how a person should live?”

“Squeak!”

The moment he finished speaking, the screeching sound of blades scraping bone filled the room.

As if sliced a thousand times by countless thin, sharp blades, the Black Goat, hooves raised, shattered instantly—his limbs and parts clattering everywhere.

Yet strangely, no bloodstain appeared, no scent of gore lingered—the woman behind the desk remained motionless, drinking her ale as if nothing had happened.

Only her brilliant red hair had dimmed noticeably; the slightly curled ends now faintly stained with an eerie crimson.

“I’ve warned you many times—never call me by name.”

Throwing away the empty bottle, the Red-haired Woman gestured with a finger—the goat’s head, stitched shut with red thread, floated over and landed neatly on her desk.

After locking eyes with the goat’s head, full of shock and fury, the Red-haired Woman named Olivia shook her head:

“I allowed you free movement in the Bureau because you did well last time. But now it seems this form suits you better.

Also, I plan to visit Wales soon—to investigate what truly happened back then, and why you fear men from Wales.

Until I return, stay like this. When I find out what you’re afraid of, you’ll truly appreciate the cost of your mouth.”

“Ugh! Oooh!!”

…

Unaware of what had just transpired, Leon rushed back to the hospital, knocked urgently on the respiratory ward office door, and handed his still-warm new credentials to the department head just as he was packing up to leave.

Sixth Cleanup Bureau? Is that under the Police Department? What’s a Third-Class Accident Processor?”

Catching the credentials, the fat department head flipped through them skeptically, recognized a few special markings, and instantly stiffened.

The Kingdom’s civil service system has five ranks: Executive, Administrative, Clerk, Assistant, and General Staff.

As head of this lower-tier hospital’s respiratory ward, he barely ranked near the top of General Staff—after another twenty years, if he played his cards right, he might just scrape into the tail end of Assistant.

But this skinny young man in the old coat? He’s already at Assistant level—and paid at Clerk-level pay! In three or five years, he’ll likely rise to the Clerk ranks.

Damn! That’s equal to our hospital director’s rank!”

Looking at the youth who couldn’t possibly be twenty, the fat head’s eyes filled with intense envy—and a hidden thread of jealousy.

Leon Lyon—the same surname as the Duke of Lionheart—plus Assistant-level status before twenty? His background was obvious: a noble family of great prestige, likely a direct heir with elite resources.

He’d spent twenty years grinding in the hospital, his only dream being Assistant-level status before retirement—yet this kid, barely a teenager, already stood near the top of Assistant, reached the very peak of his lifelong ambition, and even had extra perks to spare—where could he even complain?”

Cursing under his breath about this damn connection kid, he labeled him “Absolutely Not to Be Offended,” then his fat face bloomed into layers of smiles as he rubbed his hands and beamed at Leon:

“Mr. Leon, is there something wrong with you?”

“Not me—my sister.”

After briefly explaining Anna’s condition, Leon hadn’t even asked for anything when the fat head immediately volunteered: he’d transfer her to the best ward, supply the finest medicine, and personally oversee her care to ensure she received the highest-standard treatment in the entire capital.

Overwhelmed by the man’s excessive enthusiasm, Leon forced himself to endure the discomfort, exchanged a few polite words, then sat stiffly on the soft sofa in the private ward, waiting for nurses to bring Anna in.

Sitting alone in the quiet, clean room, staring at the fresh hospital bed with its white sheets, Leon felt a strange sense of unreality.

Less than an hour had passed since he’d stormed out of the hospital with a scalpel in hand—but the crisis that had crushed his family was now resolved.

Not only was Anna’s illness solvable, but his family, once struggling at the bottom of the capital, could now live decently on his salary—all for the price of…

Hmm? What was the price again…? Ouch! So hot! So hot!!!

As Leon strained to recall what he’d paid, sudden searing pain flared in his chest—the dung beetle badge of the Sixth Cleanup Bureau blazed like a red-hot iron, burning through three layers of fabric.

【Uncontrolled taint subject matching job criteria detected. Black Iron Badge “Probationary” activated. Your efficiency has slightly increased.】