Chapter 81: Break

Lin Yu practically fled home in a half-rolling, half-scrambling mess.
He didn’t even remember how he paid the fine, how he passed through those narrow alleys, or how he swiped open the building’s gate.
When the heavy apartment door slammed shut behind him with a loud bang, all the strength drained out of his body.
He slid down against the cold door, collapsing onto the floor.

In the darkness, only his ragged, bellows-like breathing echoed.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that.
Eventually, like a puppet pulled upright by invisible strings, he staggered to his feet and walked straight toward the bathroom.

Click.

The harsh, pale light exploded across the room, illuminating every cold tile with unforgiving clarity.
In the mirror stood the figure that terrified him most—
Familiar.
Yet unbearably foreign.

********************

He did not sleep that night.
Or rather—
He did not dare sleep.

By morning, the ashtray was already overflowing with twisted cigarette butts.
The air was thick with acrid nicotine, but none of it could calm the storm inside him.

(Fake… it has to be fake…)
(I must’ve been drunk last night. A hallucination. Yes. That has to be it.)
(When it gets bright, when I sober up… everything will go back to normal…)

He repeated this mantra over and over, like chanting sutras.
But every time he forced himself to look at the mirror again—
That softer, increasingly delicate “young boy” reflected back at him with an expression bordering on mockery.

He was afraid.
A fear far greater than facing an S-rank pollutant.

Becoming a magical girl—he could endure that.
In his eyes, it was just a job. A “role-play.”
Like those mascots on the street handing out flyers—
Take off the costume, and he was still himself.
Still the man named Lin Yu struggling to survive.

That had been his final bottom line.
His last lifeline to maintain who he was.

But now—
The pollution, or rather this damn job,
Was forcibly eroding his original body.
Trying to stitch him and that “role” together.
To fuse man and mask into one.

This wasn’t role-playing anymore.
This was forced gender reassignment.

“…F**k… does this count as workplace injury…?”

When the first ray of dawn slipped through the blinds,
Lin Yu murmured this sentence loaded with the despair of a beaten corporate s*ave.

And suddenly—
His fogged, exhausted brain snapped awake.

(Right. Workplace injury!)
(I was on a company-assigned probation mission, attacked and possessed by an S-rank pollutant, resulting in irreversible physical mutation—)
(If this isn’t workplace injury, what the hell is?! I have to make the company compensate me!)
(Rights protection! I have to fight for my rights!)

That thought ripped him out of pure terror.
As though grabbing onto the last floating plank, he fumbled for his phone and opened the chat with that smiling capitalist avatar.

[Lin Yu]: Manager Qian, are you there? This is urgent! Something’s seriously wrong with my body!

He stared at the screen, waiting for judgment.

A moment later, the reply came.

[Manager Qian]: ?

Just a question mark.
Full of managerial impatience at subordinates making a fuss.

[Lin Yu]: I… I think… my body is turning into a girl! Look!

Gritting his teeth, swallowing humiliation whole, he typed it out and sent a selfie.

This time, Manager Qian fell silent for a full minute.
Lin Yu could practically imagine that old fox frowning, calculating exactly how much trouble this would bring him.

Finally, a reply appeared.

[Manager Qian]: Oh, that’s what you meant. I thought the collar on your neck exploded. Don’t worry, totally normal.

Lin Yu almost snapped his phone in half.

(Normal your f**king mother! My s*x characteristics are disappearing and you’re telling me this is NORMAL?!)

[Lin Yu]: Manager, I’m not joking! What’s happening?! Can it be fixed?! If not—how are you calculating my workplace injury compensation?!

[Manager Qian]: Enough already. Compensation my ass… I told you, don’t worry. ┐(￣Д￣)┌

[Manager Qian]: This is a common side effect of Soul Anchor Degradation. Basically, your soul stayed bound to that girl’s body too long, so some of the data mixed back into your original body. Happens to others too. Like improving skin, less body hair—benefits, really.

[Manager Qian]: You’re only reacting so badly because that S-rank pollutant catalyzed it. Like dumping water into hot oil. Boom. That’s all.

[Lin Yu]: Benefits?! Screw your benefits! Just tell me—can I turn back or not?!

[Manager Qian]: In theory, yes. (serious.jpg) Since you’re banned from using spirit energy now, the link is cut. Your body has self-correcting mechanisms. It should slowly undo itself. Think of it as a long vacation—rest well, eat well, sleep early. (\(￣︶￣*\)))

Reading this world-class “corporate Tai Chi,”
Half of Lin Yu’s soul went cold.

Just as he was about to unleash a furious wall of text condemning capitalism, another message popped up.

[Manager Qian]: Oh right, forgot to warn you. Even if it can recover, you really shouldn’t get into fights anymore. If your emotions fluctuate too much, the residual pollutant energy might reactivate. And then… you might not turn back at all.

“………………………”

Lin Yu let his phone drop and buried his face in his hands.

He was completely defeated.

And yes—he genuinely appreciated that Manager Qian told him the truth and gave him a vacation.
But as a person—
He was exactly the kind of supervisor Lin Yu hated most in his previous life.

…Even if, work-wise, the man occasionally showed flashes of competence…
(But once those few seconds pass—he’s still the same old capitalist leech. Feels like home, really.)

Yet at the peak of his despair—
A far more critical question suddenly struck him.

(Wait… skin softening… Adam’s apple fading… those are secondary…)
(But the most important part…)
(That last remaining stronghold… is it… still there?)

Once the thought appeared, it spread like wildfire.

Lin Yu snapped his head up, eyes filled with unprecedented horror and resolve.
He took a deep breath, stood up, turned toward the bathroom—

Click.

He locked the door.

He needed to confirm.
He had to confirm whether his final bottom line was still intact.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened.

Lin Yu walked out with unsteady steps.
His face looked exhausted, but also—
Relieved.
Bitterly so.

He leaned against the wall and exhaled deeply.

Still there.
Still there… still there…

Although the process had been more difficult than before,
Although the reaction was sluggish to the point of unfamiliarity—

But that final stronghold remained.
And the most important function still worked.

“…Damn.”

He covered his face and let out a strange sound—half-laugh, half-sob, impossible to decipher.

“Thank god… otherwise I’d never be able to explain this to Mom and Dad…”

After that day, life became unexpectedly peaceful.

Lin Yu’s world seemed to enter a strange state of suspended animation—
A forced, dream-like “retirement mode.”

No more midnight mission calls.
No more Manager Qian’s smiling vampire face.
No more monsters capable of zeroing out his sanity meter.

His days became filled with gym sessions, movies, cooking experiments, and obsessively checking his bank balance—
Trivial things, but deeply comforting.

During this period, Lin Xue visited once.

Carrying a large bag of fruit, she inspected his tiny apartment as though doing a hygiene check.
Finally, she looked at him with a peculiar mix of shock and suspicion.

“Ge… did you change skincare products? Your skin is better than mine.”

Lin Yu’s hand jerked violently—
Nearly spilling boiling water on himself.

“…Really?”

The muscles on his face twitched uncontrollably as he forced out a smile uglier than crying.

“What nonsense are you talking about? I’m a grown man, what skincare would I use? At most something Mom bought…”

“Oh.”

“Maybe you’ve been going to bed earlier. That’s probably it.”

“Is that so…”

Lin Xue let out a doubtful “oh,” but didn’t press further.

Still, the moment lingered like an invisible thorn lodged in his heart.

A month passed.

Another morning.
Lin Yu stood in the bathroom, conducting the Nth iteration of a sacred, dignity-related ritual.
He leaned close to the mirror, scrutinizing his reflection.

(It feels like… it really did come back a bit?)

Maybe it was psychological.
But the contours of the face in the mirror did seem slightly sharper than a month ago.

Most importantly—
The familiar patch of faint stubble on his chin was more pronounced.

That discovery finally allowed the heart hanging for a month to settle.

He let out a long exhale.
Relief washed over him.

“Damn… thank god…”

He touched the prickly texture on his chin, nearly moved to tears by the sense of security.

(Seems like Old Qian wasn’t lying this time…)
(As long as I don’t transform, don’t let my emotions go wild—my body still remembers it’s male…)

With that mental burden gone, the whole world brightened.
Even the frustration of being banned from transforming by Division Zero felt lighter.

No transforming meant no life-threatening combat, and he still got his 40,000-yuan base salary.

Wasn’t this the “paid imprisonment” he used to dream of?

*************

That afternoon, in excellent spirits, Lin Yu decided to reward himself.

He strolled into a stylish maid café in District F, ordered their signature omelet rice and a cup of “Heart-fluttering Love Special.”

“Master Lingjin, your order is ready～”

A girl in a cute maid outfit bowed sweetly, hands clasped before her.

“Please allow me to infuse this omelet rice with love and delicious magic～”

She took out a squeeze bottle of red sauce, shook it playfully in front of her soft curves.

“When I say shaka-shaka, you say shaka-shaka. When I say ～～, you say～～…”

“Yes! Master is so good～♥”

“Mm.”

Lin Yu nodded with regal grace, leaning comfortably into the plush sofa—
Soaking in this brief, money-bought “dignity” like an emperor.

(Ah… this is good.)
(This is what adulthood should feel like.)

But just as he left the café, fully satisfied and ready to head home on the subway—

A loud voice suddenly exploded behind him:

“Holy sh*t?! Lin Yu-dage?!”