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Chapter 6: Level 3 Incident Responder
This hidden attribute… Scapegoat?
Staring at the glaring words "Fired", Leon, who had just crawled out of "hell," shivered. Instinctively, he tried to remove the badge, but a notification of "temporarily irremovable" stopped him. Left with no choice, he silently prayed:
May God help me. Please, let nothing major happen at the Anomaly Cleansing Bureau in the next two months before this badge upgrades to bronze. My whole family is counting on this job, especially Anna’s treatment-
Anna!
The thought of his younger sister still waiting in her hospital bed spurred Leon into action. Having just joined the Bureau, he quickly applied for leave and rushed out. He intended to use the benefits from his new job to secure better care for Anna.
As he hurried away, the Black Goat, who had been silently observing, clicked its tongue and teased the red-haired woman beside it: "Heh! You didn’t even want to tell him what the Bureau does. I guess you never intended to send him on missions, huh? What is this? Sympathy for a desperate kid, or just a passing act of kindness?"
"No." The red-haired woman retrieved a bottle of ale from somewhere, taking a deep swig before responding, her tone cold:
"The more ‘truth’ we humans uncover, the deeper we become tainted by the darkness, and the resulting scent will only attract more anomalies.
"Leon has potential, but the Bureau is short-staffed. I can’t assign anyone to protect him constantly. Temporarily suppressing his memories of the anomalies is to keep him off their radar for now. Once we find an anomaly suitable for him, we’ll brief him."
"Potential?!" The Black Goat sneered in disbelief:
"He survived my Corruption Whispers, sure. But that doesn’t mean his willpower is extraordinary. The kid’s just rational and slightly more moral than the average person. If you ask me, he’s a sheep—docile, submissive, and stripped of any fight. He’s worse than those death row inmates we send as cannon fodder. I bet he won’t survive his first mission."
"He will." The red-haired woman, choosing not to reveal Leon’s “anomaly,” took another swig and replied calmly: "I’ll guide him through the first few missions. And Emma’s almost done with her assignment; she should be back tonight. If I have time, I’ll mentor him. If not, Emma can take over until he’s ready to work independently."
Wow, she’s really going out of her way for him, huh? What’s she seeing in that kid?
“Stop messing around!” The Black Goat frowned, visibly annoyed: "The Bureau evaluates performance by the number of full-time agents. Our Sixth Division is already second-to-last. With year-end reviews in two months, you brought in this deadweight? Are you aiming for last place?"
"Not your problem."
"Fine, not my problem!" The Black Goat rolled its eyes, retorting: "You’ve killed more people than I’ve ever met in my life, and I respect that about you. But when you start showing misplaced kindness? That’s disgusting.
“You’re the most ruthless executioner in the Bureau. Stick to that instead of playing some ‘good Samaritan.’ It’s nauseating."
"Oh."
"…Don’t tell me you actually believe helping this kid will save his life." The Black Goat scoffed, watching the red-haired woman drink silently, clearly ignoring him.
"I know humans too well. When they’re stuck in darkness, they can endure it out of sheer numbness. But you’ve dragged him to the light, shown him what life could be. There’s no going back now.
“When the year-end review fails and he’s dismissed, the plunge from heaven back to hell will drive him mad. He might even hate you for helping him—like that other guy did. What was it he said again?"
The Black Goat strutted into the dim office, sat on a cushy sofa, and mimicked dramatically: "‘I hate you, Olivia! I could’ve endured the darkness, but you had to drag me into the sunlight and show me what life should be like!’"
"Screech!" As soon as the Black Goat finished speaking, a piercing screech of blades slicing through bone echoed sharply.
In an instant, as if cut thousands of times by countless thin, razor-sharp edges, the Black Goat—still raising its forehooves—was shredded into pieces, its parts scattering across the floor with a series of clatters.
Strangely enough, despite the Black Goat being reduced to a pile of scraps, there wasn’t even a hint of blood in the air. The woman behind the desk remained in the same position, drinking her ale in large gulps as if nothing had happened.
However, her once-vivid red hair had dimmed noticeably. The tips, slightly curled from neglect, quietly took on a strange crimson tint.
"How many times have I warned you not to call my name directly?"
She tossed her empty bottle aside, gesturing with her finger. A goat’s head, its mouth sewn shut with crimson threads, floated to her desk. Staring at its furious eyes, Olivia shook her head: "You did good last time, so I let you roam freely in the Bureau. But clearly, this suits you better.
“And while I’m at it, I’ll be heading to Wales soon to investigate why you fear men from there and what exactly happened in the past. Stay put until I return. When I’m done, I’ll make sure you pay for that foul mouth of yours."
"Mmm! Mmph!"
---
Completely unaware of these events, Leon rushed back to the hospital. He knocked on the Respiratory Department's office door just as the head physician prepared to leave. Handing over his freshly issued badge, he requested better treatment for Anna.
Sixth Cleansing Bureau? Does the Police Department even have such a division? And what’s a Level 3 Incident Responder?
The skeptical, chubby head physician flipped through the badge. Upon recognizing a few special marks, his expression stiffened.
In the Kingdom’s civil service hierarchy, ranks range from Governing, Administrative, Clerical, Assistant, to General Staff. As the head of a lower-tier hospital's respiratory department, he was barely at the forefront of the General rank. After working for another twenty years and nearing retirement, with a bit of maneuvering, he might have a chance to scrape his way into the tail end of the assistant rank.
But this scrawny youth in a worn coat? Already an Assistant-level Civil Servant, with benefits comparable to Clerical-level! In just a few years, he could rise to Clerical—a rank matching the hospital director.
Looking at the young man in front of him, who probably wasn't even twenty years old, the fat head couldn't help but reveal a strong sense of envy in his eyes, along with a hint of deep-seated jealousy.
With a surname matching that of the Duke of Lionheart, and already an assistant-level civil servant before even reaching twenty—his background was clear. He must hail from one of those prestigious aristocratic families, likely a direct heir with exceptional connections.
The fat head had worked hard for over twenty years in the hospital, and his biggest hope was to secure an assistant-level position before retirement. Yet here was someone who was barely a teenager, already at the forefront of that same level, sitting at the pinnacle of what the head had dreamed of his whole life. He'd even be able to slip by with some extra privileges—where was the justice in that?
Cursing the damn nepotism in his mind and mentally labeling the young man as someone he absolutely couldn't offend, the layers of fat folds on the head’s face spread out like a blooming flower as he rubbed his hands together, grinning broadly at Leon.
"Mr. Leon, may I ask if you're feeling unwell?"
"It’s not me—it’s my sister."
After briefly explaining Anna’s condition, Leon hadn’t even made any requests yet when the fat head enthusiastically volunteered to immediately transfer her to the best ward, provide the best medications, and even patted his chest, assuring Leon that he, as the head, would personally follow up to ensure that Miss Anna would receive the highest level of treatment in the entire kingdom.
Feeling uncomfortable with the head’s excessive enthusiasm, Leon suppressed his unease and exchanged a few forced pleasantries with him. Then, under the nurse's guidance, he made his way to the soft sofa in the special care unit and sat down, waiting for the nurses to bring Anna to him.
Sitting alone in the quiet, orderly room and gazing at the new bed covered with pristine white sheets in front of him, Leon couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of dissonance.
It had been less than an hour since he rushed out of the hospital holding a scalpel, but the crisis that had once pushed his entire family to the brink was now resolved.
Not only was there now hope for his sister’s condition, but his family, who had just been struggling at the bottom of the capital, would soon be able to live a better life thanks to his salary. All of this, however, came at the cost of…
Hmm? What’s the cost again…?
Suddenly, a searing pain shot through his chest. The dung beetle badge representing the Sixth Cleansing Bureau emitted a terrifying, iron-like heat, burning through three layers of clothing and scalding him fiercely.
[An out-of-control Contaminated matching the job description has appeared. The Black Iron Badge "Probationary Worker" is activated. Your work efficiency has slightly increased.]
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