Chapter 58: Manager Qian’s Conspiracy Theory

Inside Manager Qian’s office, it was as quiet as ever.
The thick soundproof walls completely shut out the noise from outside, leaving only the faint, expensive aroma of Blue Mountain coffee lingering in the air.

Manager Qian wasn’t reviewing those dull financial reports.
He sat deep in a comfortable leather chair, gazing with great interest at what could only be described as a “work of art.”

—【Special Sample: Grey Crystal. Post–First Independent High-Pressure Combat Evaluation Report】

His fingertip slid lightly across the enormous holographic display until his gaze settled on a curve resembling an electrocardiogram.
It was a real-time record of Lin Yu’s peak psionic output during the battle in the abandoned factory — data captured by the destroyed contract wristband before it was completely scrapped.

(…What a beautiful curve.)

Behind the lenses of Manager Qian’s glasses flashed a trace of feverish excitement.
(Fear, rage, humiliation, the urge to protect… the more intense the negative emotions, the higher the output limit of “Emptiness,” this vessel? It’s like an engine that burns pain as fuel…)

His eyes slowly moved downward, stopping at the psychological analysis written by the company therapist —

“…Under extreme stress, the sample’s identification with the ‘young girl’ persona surged sharply, manifesting in an unconscious preference for invoking ‘cute’-type abilities…”

At that, Manager Qian’s lips curved into a satisfied smile.
He chuckled softly — the kind of laugh investors make when the dark horse they backed finally starts to show championship potential.

(Excellent… this proves my judgment was right. In fact, the returns may exceed expectations.)

Just then—

Knock, knock, knock.

A polite series of knocks interrupted his thoughts.
The “researcher’s” look vanished from his face instantly.

He waved a hand, shutting down the classified report, leaned back in his chair of authority, and put on the warm, benevolent smile of a “good leader.”

“Come in.”

The door opened, and Lin Yu — in his male form — stepped inside.
He wore a clean but slightly cheap set of casual clothes, his face still pale from exhaustion and shock.

“Ah, Xiao Lin! Come, sit, sit!”

Manager Qian quickly stood up, circled his desk, and welcomed him like an old friend.
He gently pushed Lin Yu onto a soft leather sofa that could almost swallow a person whole, and personally poured him a steaming cup of tea.

“Just look at you — didn’t rest well last night, did you? I heard from logistics that you didn’t pick up your ‘mental stabilizer’? You young people always think you can tough it out! Remember, our company values our employees’ physical and mental health above all. Health is the foundation of revolution, you know?”

His voice radiated concern — the kind that said “I only want what’s best for you.”

“Ah… haha…”
Lin Yu accepted the cup, looking touched and flustered.
“Thank you, Manager Qian! I just had a nightmare, that’s all. I’ll be fine after a little rest.”

After taking a sip of tea, Lin Yu began, somewhat relieved, to recount the previous night’s terrifying ordeal — the one triggered by a “wrongly delivered package.” He spiced it up here and there, dramatizing the story for effect.

Throughout his narration, Manager Qian remained the picture of attentive empathy.
His face showed concern, surprise, even anger, all at just the right moments.

When Lin Yu mentioned being hit with a stun gun, Qian furrowed his brow and exclaimed, “Oh dear, that’s far too dangerous!”
When Lin Yu described how Officer Luo was injured saving people, Qian sighed deeply and murmured with genuine-sounding grief, “A true servant of the people…”

He was at once a psychologist and a comforting superior — using silent empathy to draw Lin Yu out, making him feel that this leader stood on his side.

By the time Lin Yu finished his story, he had unconsciously relaxed — feeling, perhaps for the first time, a sense of warmth and safety.

But Manager Qian didn’t respond immediately.
He simply picked up his long-cold coffee, took a small sip, and sank into thirty seconds of silence.

The only sound in the room was the soft hum of the air purifier.
Lin Yu’s nerves tightened again, his mind racing.

(What’s he thinking? Did I mess up? Is he going to fire me? Or… does he not believe me?)

(No, no, please — I finally decided to turn my life around, to become a real magical girl!)

(Should I… transform right now? Maybe if I use that “Triple Apology☆Pretty Please” skill… he’ll forgive me?)

Just as his panic reached its peak, Qian set down his cup with a soft clink.

“Manager Qian…”

“One moment.”

Without another glance, Qian reached for his old-fashioned encrypted desk phone.
Lin Yu held his breath as Qian calmly dialed a few numbers.

“It’s me — Lao Zhao?” Qian’s tone was easy, friendly even, as though he were chatting with an old buddy.
“Relax, I’m not calling to nag you about that project payment you’ve owed for six months.”

He chuckled — a harmless joke on the surface, but the message underneath was clear: You owe me.

“I just wanted to give you and your team over at the City Emergency Management Bureau a friendly reminder…”

He leaned back in his chair, voice casual — almost gossipy.
“Seems like things have been a little… unsettled in Xinhai’s underworld lately.”

“I heard some of Long-ge’s warehouses — you know, the ones run by the Chicheng Gang — got their locations leaked on some foreign dark web forum. Oh, and apparently a few of his top enforcers have been spending too much time at certain underground massage parlors in District E. Heh, can’t blame them for wanting to relax, right?”

His tone was light, conversational.
But to Lin Yu, every word landed like thunder.

He knew exactly what those “warehouses” were — storage sites for Spatial Dust!
And those “enforcers” were the very killers who’d hunted him down last night.

Manager Qian knew everything.

“…Lao Zhao, you’re a public servant. You understand how important it is to handle leads like these properly. We wouldn’t want another scandal like last time, right? If Director Bai finds out, I’d hate to be blamed for not speaking up.”

He paused.
“Alright, I’ve got work to do. You handle it. Maybe loop in that Officer Zhang who loves chasing cases — do him a favor. Good, good. Bye.”

Click.

Silence reclaimed the office.
Qian exhaled slowly, wearing the serene smile of a man who’d just done a civic good deed.

Turning to Lin Yu — still wide-eyed from the verbal display of power — he said cheerfully,
“There. Those pests should be too busy to bother a small fry like you for quite a while.”

“Uh…”

Lin Yu sat frozen, his mind lagging like a crashed program. (Just… one phone call? That solved everything?)

After a long pause, he finally found his voice.
“Manager Qian, I… still don’t understand.”

He hesitated, then asked the question that had been burning inside him —
“If the company can do that… why not just wipe them out completely? Why keep them around?”

Qian smiled.
“Xiao Lin, that’s an excellent question.”

He picked up his cup, rolling it between his fingers.
“Good enough to prove you’re starting to think like a manager, not just a worker.”

“But tell me — do you really think our company, or the parent group, exists to protect the city? To keep peace like the police do?”

He shook his head, still smiling, but his gaze sharpened like a scalpel.
“No, my boy.”

Behind the lenses, his eyes gleamed.
“‘Purification’ is just a means.”
“Our true goal — there’s only ever been one.”

Qian leaned forward, his words like a blade pressed against Lin Yu’s remaining innocence.

“To make. F**king. Money.”

Then, leaning back again, fingers interlaced, he continued, almost gently:
“Those people? They’re scum at the bottom of the pond — filthy, greedy, violent. But because they exist, we get contracts. Because of the chaos, we get funding. Research. Expansion. Profit.”

“Wipe them out? Sure, we could. But then the pond would be clean. And a clean pond doesn’t need janitors, does it?”

He fixed Lin Yu with a cutting stare.
“No projects. No funding. Tell me, Xiao Lin—”
“Where would I get your 20,000-yuan monthly salary from?”

The words hit Lin Yu like a hammer.
His mind went blank. The fragile ideals he’d just begun to form — shattered.

Seeing the disillusionment on his face, Qian smiled again.
“Ah, look at me, rambling about conspiracies! Hahaha, it’s not that deep. Our company’s a model citizen — you know that!”

He waved a hand dismissively, his voice warm again.
“Don’t overthink it. Just remember: as long as your value keeps rising, this company will always be your strongest support.”

He walked back to his desk and pulled out a black alloy briefcase, its surface gleaming coldly.

“This is compensation for your… accident.”

With a click, he opened it.

“Your old contract wristband had some design flaws. I had Lao Mei in logistics add a quantum entanglement transmission chip — theoretically, the signal won’t drop unless you fall into a black hole.”

He smiled. “There’s also a weapon inside — not a real gun, a psionic model. Completely legal. Consider it a pre-investment in your future. Use it well during tomorrow’s regularization assessment, and give us a dazzling performance!”

Lin Yu swallowed, staring at the mysterious case.c“Manager Qian… who’s the safety observer for tomorrow’s test?”

Qian sighed, looking troubled.

“Ah, that’s the tricky part. Obsidian’s therapy got extended, Xuantie and Red Fox were sent by Director Bai to handle that mess over at Ruikang… everyone’s busy.”

Lin Yu’s heart sank. (The three I know best — all gone? Then who…?)

Just as panic began to rise again, Qian smiled knowingly.

“But don’t worry.”

He spoke in a tone of pleasant surprise.

“The observer I’ve arranged for you is quite something. The only person in all of Xinhai Branch that even old Mei praises — the top expert in handling Curiosity-type Contaminants, the ace of Research Division 2 in District D—”

Knock, knock, knock.

Three soft knocks cut him off.

“Speak of the devil,” Qian said with a satisfied grin.
“Come in.”

The door opened slowly.
A gentle ray of sunlight spilled into the room, outlining a graceful female silhouette.

“Ah, Manager Qian,” a sweet voice teased, “Praising me behind my back like that… you’re going to make me blush~”