Chapter 80: The Clown’s Overtime Extravaganza

While others enjoyed the festivities, the Clown and his subordinates were intensely working overtime.

Indeed, the joys and sorrows of people varied greatly.

Time was running short for the Clown, yet the tasks before him were numerous.

His long desk was buried beneath mountains of piled-up documents.

Running a vast organization was no simple feat, particularly when one possessed a multitude of secrets but a dearth of reliable personnel.

The Clown wielded pens in both hands, his movements a blur as they danced across the papers. It was almost impossible to tell if he had even bothered to read the contents seriously.

The reviewed documents, like well-trained butterflies, fluttered briefly in the air before settling neatly onto an adjacent desk.

“Ora ora ora ora!”

The spirit of a tireless worker blazed within the Clown. He resembled a sentient, all-in-one efficiency machine, processing every task before him with precise, swift, and furious speed.

In no time at all, he had reviewed every single piece of work. Gazing at his now-bare desk, a profound sense of accomplishment swelled within him. At such a moment, a warm cup of milk tea was precisely the reward he needed.

However, just as the Clown reached for his milk tea, a burst of enthusiastic applause erupted beside him.

Three subordinates, each wearing identical Clown masks—distinguished only by their differing serial numbers—suddenly crowded into his vision.

“Amazing, Boss!”

“You’ve worked so hard, Boss!”

“Boss truly possesses the innate physique of a workaholic saint!”

Pfft!

So engrossed had he been in his work that the Clown hadn’t noticed them. The milk tea he’d just sipped sprayed directly out of his mouth, giving his three subordinates an impromptu, complimentary milk tea facial.

Pushing his chair back to create some distance from his three subordinates, the Clown asked suspiciously, “When did you all get here?”

One of the subordinates, wiping milk tea from their face, chuckled sheepishly. “We’ve been here for half an hour already.”

‘Which means these three scoundrels have been slacking off right in front of me for a full half-hour, watching their boss bend over to tackle mountains of work?!’

The sense of accomplishment from processing thousands of documents instantly shattered. All he wanted now was for these three subordinates to experience his pain firsthand.

Rubbing his fists together, the Clown asked, “So, you were specifically here to supervise my work?”

The three subordinates shook their heads wildly in unison, glancing at each other.

The one on the far left elegantly stepped forward, sliding to a kneel before the Clown, and held up a communication crystal.

“Clown, sir, I’m here to report. The attempt to establish contact failed.”

To deal with non-human entities like Theresia, one naturally needed individuals with extraordinary abilities. Thus, the Clown had entrusted his subordinates with the task of assembling the members of the Rebellious Alliance.

The Clown tapped his hand with a whip as he asked, “Then why didn’t you say so earlier?”

The subordinate chuckled awkwardly. “I did, but you said to wait until you were done working.”

The Clown smiled faintly. “Did I say that?”

“You did.”

The moment this subordinate spoke, they were instantly whipped into a spinning top. Revolving rapidly, they quickly clarified, “Oh, no, no, no! You did, but this subordinate must have misheard.”

Ignoring the human top beside him, the Clown asked, “What did he say?”

The human top replied, “The Bishop, well, he just said one word: ‘Scram’.”

The Clown sighed heavily. “Ugh, you can’t even handle such a small matter! Watch closely! Respect is earned!”

He cleared his throat, then dialed the Black-Robed Bishop’s communication.

The Black-Robed Bishop’s cold face appeared on the communication crystal, though they didn’t immediately hang up.

The Clown smiled in satisfaction. “Oh, Bishop, it’s been a while…”

“I’m busy. Scram.”

*Snap!* The communication crystal’s display vanished. The Clown had indeed managed to earn a little respect—at least three more words than his subordinate.

‘The Clown glanced at his subordinates, who were now looking left and right, feigning ignorance.’

“Minor issue. This happens all the time,” the Clown stated, his expression unperturbed. “Next, I’ll show you how to deal with this situation.”

With that, the Clown dialed the communication orb again.

“Bishop, have you eaten today?”

*Snap!* Hung up. Dialed again.

“Bishop, what color underwear are you wearing today?”

*Snap!* Hung up. Dialed again.

“Bishop, your brow is dark today. Shall I help you ward off bad luck?”

‘Bishop, when was your grandmother’s first time?’

****

He activated his ability, which allowed him to forcibly transmit his messages to the Bishop and others.

Although the other party could still hang up, it didn’t stop the Clown from repeatedly calling back.

The Clown was in no hurry to get to the main point. He was already prepared to inquire about eighteen generations of their ancestors’ sexual preferences.

Clearly, for the Bishop, this kind of unavoidable harassment call could only be described as mental torture.

“Enough! You have one minute. What do you want?!”

Having only just reached the ninth generation and still feeling somewhat unsatisfied, the Clown knew that serious matters took precedence. He stated, “The plan has changed. I need to hold an emergency meeting. The Holy Alliance has a major move planned that will severely interfere with your operations, Bishop.”

The Bishop’s gaze immediately sharpened. “Was it your doing?”

The Clown paused for a moment, then spoke with profound sorrow. “How could it be? As everyone knows, you and I, Bishop, may not see eye to eye, but we are truly bosom friends at heart. I couldn’t bear to see your efforts come to naught, unable to withstand the blow, and then, in a state of demoralization, resort to cross-dressing for transactions to repent for not heeding the valuable intelligence the Clown provided.”

The Bishop’s handsome face twisted into a grimace, but they did not curse. Instead, they said coldly, “Understood. We’ll meet at the usual place. And you… just wait.”

Watching the communication crystal go dark, the Clown clicked his tongue.

‘Tsk, I pushed it too far. I’ll need to be careful during the meeting.’

The subordinate said admiringly, “As expected of Clown, sir! You easily handled the most difficult Bishop. What’s next?”

The Clown smiled. “Naturally, such matters are easily resolved. I’ve already taught you the method, now go and do it.”

The subordinate’s playful smile vanished. ‘No, seriously? Is he really suggesting I use such a perverse trick? They can’t deal with you, but they can definitely deal with me!’

Meanwhile, the Clown had already moved on to the next subordinate.

The middle subordinate quickly slid to a kneel, handing a stack of documents to the Clown.

“Sir, your bills. Please review them.”

The Clown, bewildered, quickly scanned all the bills, and instantly felt a sharp pain in his chest.

“Did you take money from the dragons?! I clearly allocated you funds for…”

This person was in charge of designing the cages to imprison giants and dragons.

Cages for these two species required considerable thought, as both races possessed the ability to grow large or shrink small. To this day, they still hadn’t figured out how to adjust for this.

If the cage was too rigid and couldn’t expand, there was a risk of the giants or dragons being crushed if they forcibly reverted to their original forms.

It wasn’t the cage that would be crushed, but the giants and dragons themselves.

One shouldn’t consider this absurd. His master had once told him, ‘Never underestimate the intelligence of giants and dragons, but also never underestimate their capacity for self-destruction.’

The formidable vitality of these two species always led them to think, ‘I can give it a try.’

This was absolutely unacceptable to the Clown. These were potentially the world’s last remaining Theresia and the last remaining giant, creatures of unparalleled rarity. If he were to lose these rarest specimens, his master wouldn’t hesitate to make him disappear next.

Consequently, the materials for these cages were rather expensive. However, the current exorbitant cost, far exceeding the Clown’s expectations, made him feel that it was perhaps time to launch an anti-corruption storm within the organization.

“Absolutely not, Boss! You know me, I’m a normal person. How could I be interested in dragons?” the subordinate explained. “You said the cages needed to be comfortable, sturdy, and flexible. After three days and three nights of sleepless discussions and repeated communication from our research team, this is already the least expensive option within the given timeframe.”

The Clown said dryly, “But the organization is out of money.”

The subordinate nodded. “Yes, I know. That’s why I came to you, Boss, for approval of the funds.”

“I said, the organization is out of money.”

“Exactly! So, Boss, you just need to approve the funds.”

Clown: “…Why do you think I can approve the funds?”

“Because whenever the organization runs out of money, don’t they always come to you for it, Boss? As long as you work hard, everything will get better, right?”

The Clown never imagined he would have a day where he was at the mercy of his subordinates. So, he rewarded this subordinate with an unbeatable whirlwind punch.

However, no matter how beautifully the whirlwind spun, it couldn’t alleviate the desolation in the Clown’s heart.

Because this money truly had to be paid.

‘Poor Theresia, poor giant, you must live vigorously!’

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