Chapter 545: NO.128: All messed up, you definitely won't look so composed

NO. 128: All messed up, you definitely won't look so composed.

Mr. Linton?

It's me.

You look much younger.

I heard that super agents are more used to interacting with boys and girls.

... You're very thoughtful.

You're welcome.

——

Ailisuzhi may not be the one with the most thoughts in the office girls' alliance, but she is definitely the best at pranking in the office.

After becoming familiar, the true nature of the puppet shows; Miss Qian's actions have always been more conservative, never actively touching Aomo's bad luck, even when handling rubber mixtures, she always chooses scanning uploads of electronic games that won't damage the model, proving that model enthusiasts do not harm each other.

Of course, Miss Suzi wouldn't go so far as to use Aomo's model as a test subject.

Her pranks are always straightforward, with potions of unhidden color, with abruptly enthusiastic tea, and even sparring with companions—dancing happily on the edge of Aomo's tolerance.

This isn't the reason I had you practice dancing……Reading book

Aomo sighed in his heart, thinking that the meaning of that dance practice wasn't great either.

The song 'Skyclad Observer' is actually also a tormenting accompaniment for the winner on stage, not the singer themselves.

Actually, upon further thought of the lyrics……

'0' is the past and '1' is the future/0 represents the past, 1 represents the future.

Transcending time, at the end of that causal chain, after the demon god Zero comes this youthful form of oneself……

It cannot be said to be without omission; it can only be said to have been premeditated.

Thus Aomo could no longer hold back and actually sighed.

The sigh was long and lingering.

I really wish you would put this thought into scheduling instead of pranking, Miss Ailisuzhi.

What's there to resist, trainer? This isn't bad, right?

It just so happens that you've recently been bothered by harassment and don't want to go out, right?

At times like this, one would call the trainer's brown-haired horse girl, who stands by the window with the curtains drawn, smiling, her dark eyes showing a hint of triumphant satisfaction.

Compared to waking up three days later, even turning into a boy's appearance has become bearable, let alone as the other party said, this appearance of Aomo can indeed go out easily.

A 16-year-old boy and a 19-year-old youth appear only three years apart; in reality, only a change in clothing style and demeanor is needed to fool most reporters who rely solely on a quick visual judgment.

Taking into account his current level of sobriety, he couldn't muster any anger either.

Instead, he ought to praise Suzi.

A potion that transfers bodily energy to the mind to resolve severe imbalance between spirit and body, if it succeeds, is already enough to be counted among miraculous medicines.

Moreover, it's different from the previous strange concoctions; this time it likely could have a mass market.

After all, there are truly many office workers who work overtime.

Reducing the dosage and diluting the ingredients can easily surpass many late-night drinks on the market, and it can also be paired with health drinks that supplement the body.

This pairing is also necessary, after all, for ordinary people the clinical effect of this medicine would be to drink it and feel slightly aged.

For Aomo, turning into a 16-year-old appearance does not mean his bodily energy is abundant; his 19-year-old state can be far stronger than that of a 16-year-old.

This appearance also results from a sudden loss of a large amount of energy, yet sustained by demonic bloodline.

Not only does it fail to show the charm of a mature man, but it turns him into a boy with a horse face about to enter high school.

Reducing energy consumption by lowering age is truly an over-the-top stress instinct.

"I'm starting to wonder what kind of demon your demonic blood actually is, Guinea Pig; how about I draw another tube of blood?"

From guinea pig to trainer, then back to guinea pig, the whole process is just a few sentences of conversation, plus observation during the talk.

Aomo was thus left speechless, and did not give her a tube of sixteen-year-old blood.

Just thinking that she has recently been secretly concocting some potions, even this alternative 'return to youth' is a byproduct, so he straightforwardly refused.

Thinking back further, she had once collected her own hair, which in the East could be considered the beginning of a curse, while in the West……

Am I supposed to become a substitute……?

He doesn't know, but he isn't uneasy enough to actually intervene.

Just from the fact that each of her pranks stays within Aomo's tolerance range, one can see that this girl understands propriety well; there won't be any overly outrageous developments.

So he ultimately never went to ask.

Not only did he not ask, but he actually went out, wearing earphones and strolling leisurely in the western mountains at sunset, while simultaneously talking with that super agent on the phone.

While passing the supermarket, he wondered whether to buy something, but then thought——the girls have been given a holiday, and he himself has become even more like a child……

What's the point of cooking? Not doing it! Let them order takeout themselves!

Although in actual history, Aomo had already started trying to wield the spatula at age seven, this doesn't prevent him from saying NO now.

They're at the age of chuunibyo; it's time to go dark.

But going dark also means not cooking, which sounds even more pathetic than the old-version Spider-Man.

Since it's come to this, first buy an ice cream bar.

At the supermarket he bought the most plain ice pop, watching the red-haired girl with whom he'd once briefly cooperated be 'assassinated' by the ice cream assassin, Aomo gained the simplest joy, then slipped away before being noticed, so as not to experience the heat wave sent by the demonic sword of destruction for midsummer.

You want some?

Stopping in front of a sloping stone pillar not far from the supermarket, Aomo used his magic claw to break the ice pop in half and extend it toward the screen.

At that moment, a certain witch also gave herself a holiday and didn't want to work overtime; the only one who could roam the data world was the super agent who had transformed into a warplane.

Defining a few ranges takes a week; concretely locking onto the new universe's frequency band still needs to come after this,

This matter cannot be rushed, but he still stays in contact with Thus character: "Jie Si Ti Si", because the latter not only attempts to analyze and give feedback on the original dialogue records like Suzi does, but also hides certain words that he does not speak when indoors.

"I can't stomach this." The super agent was somewhat speechless; back then his senior had fought desperately in a work called 'junk' by an old buddy of the picture bar (a junk‑assembled computer), whereas now he can freely wander the miniature terminal screen.

Enjoying such a technical upgrade, yet not tearing up, this person instead keeps pointing and saying: "Is it all right for you to stop here? Are you hiding from someone?"

"Do you still have the leisure to notice me here?"

Aomo was somewhat surprised that, having looped around this small district several times, this craft whose main camera design is indiscernible could still notice him.

"Today's network lanes aren't congested, and my patrol here is rather monotonous."

That means you've been watching this side all along...

Aomo turned his head to glance at the conspicuous red hair passing not far away and the more striking, mottled white hair like snowy gray, then turned back and tugged at his hoodie's hood.

With a 16‑year‑old body, he could only find fitting clothes by sending himself back to his old home to rummage through the bottom of the wardrobe, but it's unclear whether it's an illusion; the clothes seem to be getting looser and looser.

"I see, then let me answer you: I can only say that hiding doesn't necessarily require nonstop movement, especially now that you've figured out how many people are after you."

"You're being tailed by multiple people? Are they enemies? Do you want my help?"

The enthusiastic super agent clearly understands that this friend, who looks like a teenager, has indeed diminished in strength; previously he could barely even initiate a demon‑person transformation.

After all, the demon‑person transformation always reflects the soul's form.

"No need, they're not enemies."

Aomo's expression was somewhat subtle; he raised his hand to swipe through other windows in the mid‑air terminal, still hesitating whether to open Umastagram's shield and take a look.

"They're probably just old friends with ill intentions."

"... Are you sober?"

"I am sober; actually, that statement isn't contradictory."

(End of chapter)