Chapter 762: Daily Life and Eating

The next day, in the Cleaning Bureau, next to Lyon's office.

"Oh my God! My dear Emma!"

After patting her empty purse, the "master of scheming" red-haired director grabbed her best friend's arm and pleaded with a gloomy face:

"Can you… can you lend me some more money?"

"Not necessarily."

After giving her a blank look, Emma lowered her head and continued processing documents, her voice cool:

"Did you go drinking again yesterday?"

"Mm…"

"Then no."

"…"

"Director Olivia, I haven't finished my cleaning report. Do you have anything else?"

"No…"

"Then please leave."

Watching her best friend coldly point toward the door, the red-haired director shuffled toward it, glancing back every few steps, hoping to hear that familiar voice change its mind.

But even as she slowly shuffled into the corridor and the door behind her—bearing the plaque "Emma Alman"—slammed shut, she still heard no gentle call from before.

A heartless woman…

After a faint sigh, the red-haired director quietly knocked on the adjacent door, her voice soft and sultry:

"Lyon~ Dear Lyon, are you in?"

"Come in!"

At that moment, the door that had just slammed shut inexplicably opened again. Emma stood there, eyes full of disdain, and yanked her into her own office.

"Last time! Speak up! How much do you need this time?"

Huh?

Yaya

Seeing Emma suddenly change her mind, the red-haired director's eyebrows lifted slightly, then her lips curled into a knowing smile:

"Emma~ Why the sudden change of heart? Could it be…"

"Are you lending it or not?"

"Fine, I'll lend it!"

After glancing at her best friend's increasingly hostile expression, fearing the patron god might flip the table in rage, the red-haired director swallowed her teasing remark and held up her right hand to gesture:

"Not much—just five gold wheels this time."

Only that much? For you, that really isn't much.

Surprised, Emma glanced at the red-haired director, opened her purse, counted out five gold wheels, and handed them over, then asked curiously:

"Why so little this time? Usually when you ask me for money, it's at least thirty or fifty."

"This time… the situation's a bit special…"

The red-haired director's face twisted with annoyance:

"Last night, after drinking until midnight, I paid and picked up my wine—then realized I'd forgotten my purse. When I went back, the waiter told me someone had taken it, and he didn't remember the person's face."

"So I don't need much this time—just enough to get through these few days. Once Jerry returns from his mission, I'll have his 'friends' help me find it."

"…"

So you, the red-haired director of the Cleaning Bureau, a warrior with a record of slaying true gods, got so drunk you forgot your purse? How absurd can you get?

Blinking in disbelief, Emma shoved the gold wheels into the red-haired director's hand and grumbled:

"The places you go have expensive drinks, and customers there rarely lack money—no one just steals wallets. And that waiter is suspicious."

"In a high-end bar, if a waiter notices a guest's lost wallet, they usually keep it safe. If they didn't notice, they'd say they didn't see anything. To avoid blame, even if they saw someone take it, they'd likely still say they didn't know."

"But he specifically told you someone took it—and couldn't even remember the person's face. That's strange. It doesn't mean he stole it, but he's almost certainly lying to you."

After analyzing the situation, Emma suggested:

"Tell me the bar's name and what the waiter looks like. I'll go ask Lyon after work to check what happened."

"This… once Jerry gets back, I'll get my purse back directly. No need to trouble Lyon with this, right?"

Recalling the things she'd said to Lyon yesterday when inviting him for drinks, the red-haired director's cheeks flushed slightly, a rare pang of shame rising in her chest.

"Remember: when someone has a weakness known to all, you must be careful." "Learn from this, little Lyon~ You're still too green~"

Those lines she'd delivered yesterday—so cool, making little Lyon's eyes widen in awe—now felt like daggers after she'd drunk so much she forgot her purse.

If little Lyon found out, she'd have no face to show him all week…

"…"

What? Just talk normally—why are you blushing?

Seeing the red-haired director's flushed cheeks, Emma's heart jolted as she recalled their swollen lips in the Dead Realm, both burned by the same spice. She gritted her teeth:

"Olivia! Did you… after I left yesterday, did you say something else to Lyon?"

???

Hearing Emma's question, the red-haired director's heart jolted too—then instantly returned to her usual confident expression, replying calmly:

"What?"

Damn it! You can fool others, but not me! Every word you say with that face is a lie!

Emma clenched her lips tight, said nothing, and stood up toward the door.

The red-haired director, unaware of what had gone wrong, instinctively called out to stop her:

"Wait—he's not here! Lyon's already gone out!"

Hearing this, Emma paused slightly, then turned back, eyeing her with sharp suspicion.

"He's really not here?"

Seeing Emma stop, the red-haired director exhaled in relief and hurried to explain:

"It's already noon. Before you came back, Lyon already went to the Police Department cafeteria for lunch."

"Really?"

"Really!"

"Then why did you knock on his office door if you knew he wasn't there?"

"…"

…

"Hold it steady!"

After piling five or six fried cod fillets onto Lyon's tray, the cafeteria aunt shook her wrist and scooped a full ladle of beef from a nearby tub, drenching it in braising sauce over the rice.

"That's it, go! If you're still hungry, come back for more!"

"…"

More? If I come back for more, I'll burst…

Staring at the portion on his tray—enough to feed two adult men—Lyon, baffled as to why the aunt favored him, smiled weakly and begged:

"Um… tomorrow can…"

"Tomorrow's menu: green beans with salmon, roasted chicken, and mushroom cream soup. Check the board at the door for the rest. Finish up and move—others are waiting!"

"…"

I wasn't asking what's on the menu tomorrow—I wanted to ask if you could give me less…

Under the hungry stares of towering police officers behind him, Lyon shrank his shoulders and hurried away with his tray, then sat at his usual seat, staring at the food with dread.

This is way too much… Even if you gave this to a pig, it'd be seven-tenths full.

Just as Lyon took a deep breath and decided he'd rather choke than waste food, a pig—no, a familiar figure—carried a tray and sat down across from him.

"Knew you'd be here!"

Placing her tray on the table, the female officer with two huge dark circles under her eyes said seriously:

"Lyon! I need your help!"

"Fine… but you've got to help me first!"

Seeing a savior, Lyon nodded frantically, grabbed her spoon, and scooped half his stewed beef onto her tray.

"Quick, eat two pieces… today Aunt Diana gave me way too much…"

(End of chapter)