Chapter 1467: NO.82: Section Chief Aomo, Efficient Outside of Feelings

NO. 82: Section Chief Aomo, Efficient Outside of Feelings

This is a bit troublesome, Aomo thought.

In fact, before dialing Bicuikes's private number, as the Beast King said, the demon hesitated for several seconds.

The three‑month deadline came from him; he had said he would wait for an answer, and he had also told his girlfriends that he would notify them immediately upon any reply, leaving little room for concealment.

But the other party had no contact in the days after the three months, as if waiting for him to ask first, or as if planning to gloss over the whole matter, which could be seen as a tacit abandonment.

He used to think it was the latter, but at the end of last year, he sensed a completely new feeling from the drunken, red‑faced big cat's eyes.

He realized that what the other party harbored might not be the light colleague camaraderie he had originally imagined.

Precisely because of that feeling, he gave the three‑month deadline in a low sigh at that time.

Perhaps feelings, too, are like nesting dolls, but if the parties themselves cannot pull them apart, how can my pulling them apart count as the other's true intention?

So he gave them time.

With the nesting doll already cracked, and with a surge of liquor courage allowing a glimpse, giving it a few more days would let that nesting doll—or that egg—break out of its shell on its own.

As for what cannot be dug open, the possibility of it not breaking its shell…

That was exactly why Aomo hesitated for several seconds.

It had been said before that demons possess a greedy desire that refuses to accept loss, a desire that also extends to personal relations, yet they do not seek to refine it down to categories.

What does that mean?

It means he does not dream of a lifelong band; he merely wishes not to break its existence.

He can accept that vague affection turning into pure friendship, but he does not want even friendship to vanish, leaving only strangers.

That is the true loss.

Losing intersection, losing the future, not knowing when any change will come.

So he hesitated.

Because if the other party chose that tacit abandonment, then his contacting them now is still a bit early.

Being early won't change the outcome, it will only add needless embarrassment and possibly create rifts in the friendship.

In fact, most confessions that fail—whether initiated or received—rarely allow both sides to remain frank friends; instead, they often say 'let's stay friends' and then grow increasingly distant in their dwindling interactions.

Not wanting to recall those regrettable, disheartening scenes, not wanting opportunities for sentiment to arise from sights or thoughts of people and things—this is natural human feeling, yet in the end it means a rift has formed, and they are unconsciously distancing themselves from each other.

But if there is a more compulsory shared connection, it might be better to give both sides time to idle until they meet again soon for a work‑related matter—

Aomo Lindun has his own ways to restart topics, confidence in his conversational skills, but for now those suppositions should simply be discarded.

Between the risk of feelings and the case related to the Beast King, he merely hesitated for several seconds and then chose the latter.

In fact, he still lacks awareness of the scale of this matter.

The information is too scarce to gauge the risk index of leaving this matter unattended, but since it involves that guy, he finds it hard to regard it as a minor incident.

Perhaps that counts as a legitimate work matter after all, or maybe it's just a passable excuse… Aomo Lindun began to comfort himself with this line of thought and dialed the number.

After another ten or so seconds of nervousness, he received a reply: "Hey, what's up?"

Perhaps nervousness skewed his judgment; just from that first sentence he sensed a hint of 'putting on airs', as if he were facing Site Commander Shi Huaiya, the bureau chief, in the middle of directing operations.

Is this not the right time to call? Aomo wondered thoughtfully.

Perhaps she is indeed at the work site, and even directly encountered the Beast King, which is why he mentioned her; putting on airs in front of her subordinates is therefore natural.

But since she is already in work mode, he also saw no need for polite pleasantries and got straight to the point:

"Have you encountered someone who calls himself… no, not calls himself, but merely uses the title Beast King? He might even claim to have once been called Aomo Lindun."

"…Eh?"

A dry, bewildered tone, indicating his words far exceeded her expectations, sank Aomo's heart—had she not seen him, or was he simply being too idealistic?

Could it be that her connection with the Beast King is even more indirect and vague?

"Wait, are you here to say… no, you know that guy?!"

In that instant, Bureau Chief Shi Huaiya almost questioned whether he had come to say that, but her tragic yet commendable professionalism immediately steered the conversation back to work.

Although the first half of that sentence caught Aomo's attention a little, the subtext of the second half instantly seized all his focus.

"Yes, that's right! I'll first guarantee that what He says is all true—He is from another universe, and probably a much future version of me, and He is now in a terrible state, as you know; where did He last appear? I need His location, preferably in teleport‑coordinate format."

"Wait, wait a minute!" her urgent shout, mixed with the sound of fiddling with some hard‑shell device, then a sudden yank and the noise of wind and impact, let Aomo hear that she seemed to be in a car.

"I'll send you the location! Talk to me properly—wait, I'm getting a text… hey, yes, what?! Gone?! How are you guys watching over things?!"

"…"

While Aomo furrowed his brows and dragged open Bicuikes's private chat window, he heard an embarrassed voice from the other side:

"Aomo… he's disappeared."

Her façade collapsed, her whole person turning timid and earnest, as if Aomo could see through the screen her drooping ears.

"It's Him." Aomo emphasized.

"He is not only my parallel‑universe self, but a more future version of me, far surpassing my present self in power and life force, to the point that even the Blessed Gospel Brigade can call Him the Beast King—do you understand what that means?"

"Uh…… I…"

"Don't worry about whether you've made a big mistake—I've received the coordinate address; come over right away, keep the line open, and also, what did He say? Whether to others or to you, it's all important and has reference value."

Aomo said, his fingertip tracing a line; black mist roiled like a giant maw, swallowing it whole, then spitting it out at the teleportation point on the streets of New Capital District.

Then, at the moment it was spat out, he heard the other side say:

"He last mentioned his uncle—I mean your foster father."

"…"

"He asked Mo Lisen Lindun, are you there…"

The voice from that side was low, as if aware of the circumstances under which the question was asked, and also aware of why that person's voice then sounded just as low as his own.

That hoarse voice, so low it was almost inaudible, clearly showed that his own hearing already far exceeded that of ordinary people.

I feel like… no, not feel like… I did something wrong…

"Then when the time comes, apologize to whoever needs an apology!" Aomo said while speaking, and while he searched for the direction to the police station, he raised his hand as he took his first step; as he raised his hand, another black mist appeared, but it rose on the nearby roadway.

From within the deep, rumbling engine's roar, a menacingly styled motorbike Benz burst forth!

Also from that moment, his stepping motion traced a magical trajectory; the manifestation and withdrawal of his demonic form achieved a fleeting illusory outline, also presenting the phantom of that step's dash, allowing him to fling all those visual effects behind him, catch up to the speed of the Beta moto, and flip onto it.

The whole process took no more than three seconds, a trace of his effort to seize every second, and it inevitably forced him to raise his volume a bit to resist the suddenly rising wind: "If the one you need to apologize to is Him, then helping me now is equivalent to helping Him! It's also a form of compensation! Now! Set aside those personal feelings, tell me what else He said!"