Otaku Translation: I! Anomaly Cleansing Agent! C145

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One hundred and twenty-nine million, six hundred thousand people cursing you… how could that even be possible?

When Leon first saw the stubborn look on the red-haired chief’s face, he almost believed her. Sure, the chief was known for lying when sober, but she was so drunk at this point—surely, she wouldn’t still have the presence of mind to toy with him, right?

But his trust in her lasted less than a second before it flickered out like a snuffed candle.

Yes, the was massive, but compared to nearly 130 million humans, it was laughably small. Even if you crammed every inch of space from the entire Police Department into the equation, there’d still be no way to fit that many people inside.

It had to be nonsense, didn’t it? Drunken rambling?

“There, there,” Leon said soothingly.

He adjusted her arm over his shoulder, gave her butt a nudge with his knee to stabilize her weight, and hoisted her up into a more manageable position. As he carried her up the stairs, he humored her.

“I’m good at yelling back. If those people are cursing you, I’ll curse them right back.”

“You’re lying,” she slurred. “You’re too honest to curse anyone.”

“I’m not lying.”

“If you’re not lying, why won’t you look me in the eyes? Are you afraid I’ll see through your lie?”

“…”

“Look at me. I don’t believe what comes out of your mouth. You always lie. I only believe what your eyes say.”

“…”

So which is it, exactly? Am I honest or dishonest in your book?

Seeing her start to squirm again because he hadn’t replied, Leon sighed and equipped his . Then, meeting her gaze as seriously as he could, he said, “I’m not lying. I really am good at cursing. If all those millions upstairs are cursing you, I’ll curse them back tenfold.”

“Then… then you better keep your word!” Her voice wavered slightly. “If they curse me, you absolutely have to curse them back!”

She stared hard into Leon’s eyes for what felt like an eternity before finally relaxing, her grip loosening on his shirt. In a softer tone, almost a whisper, she added, “But don’t go too far, okay? It’s my fault they’re mad. They’re justified in cursing me… I just… I’ve been cursed at for so long. Going up there alone scares me…”

“…”

Leon froze mid-step, staring down at the fragile curl of her body. Something about her words unsettled him. This wasn’t just drunken babble; something real lurked beneath the surface. Whatever waited upstairs… it might actually exist.

Could it be dangerous?

After pausing for a moment on the second-floor landing of the stairwell, Leon hesitated. “Chief, do the people who curse you ever come downstairs?”

“No,” she murmured, shaking her head against his chest. Her voice was distant, dreamlike. “They stay on the fifth or sixth floors, guarding the top levels—the . Unless someone enters the fifth floor, they never leave their posts.”

Twelve anthills?

Leon filed away the cryptic term, feeling marginally relieved that the alleged 130 million individuals weren’t likely to descend anytime soon. Still cautious, he carried her out of the stairwell and crept toward the same reception room where Director Taurus had visited last time. Each step was deliberate, slow, as though navigating a field of landmines.

Once inside, Leon gently laid the red-haired chief onto the couch. Amidst the chaos of empty bottles scattered around the room, he unearthed a thick from beneath the debris and draped it over her. He retrieved a cushion from the floor, dusted it off, and carefully placed it under her head.

Phew… Finally got her settled.

As he stood back, watching her lie motionless except for her eyes—which followed him like twin moons—Leon exhaled deeply. Ordinary drunks were trouble enough. But dealing with one who seemed both extraordinarily powerful and shrouded in mystery? The difficulty level skyrocketed. Thankfully, everything had gone smoothly, and she was now safely tucked away. At least he’d repaid some of the debt he owed her.

“It’s late. Get some rest. I’m heading downstairs to sleep,” he said softly, tucking the edges of the blanket snugly around her.

Just as he turned to leave, a sudden blur of movement yanked him backward. Before he knew it, he was airborne, pulled back by some inexplicable force.

“I knew you were lying~”

With surprising dexterity, she undid the top button of his collar, hooked the strand of her fiery red hair that was tied around Leon’s neck with her pinky, and pulled him closer playfully. Cheeks flushed with alcohol, she grinned slyly. “You promised to help me fight back, but once you got me into bed, you thought you could escape? Not a chance.”

“…”

Troublesome… Should’ve poured another couple of bottles down her throat before bringing her up here.

Glancing at the lock of red hair looped tightly around his neck, Leon realized resistance was futile. Resigned, he tried reasoning with her again.

“I’m not trying to deceive you, but it’s late, and you’re clearly intoxicated. I can’t possibly sleep next to you like this.”

“Why not?” she challenged, scooting deeper into the spacious sofa to make room. Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed him and yanked him down beside her. “It’s just sleeping. Nothing improper will happen. What are you so worried about?”

“…”

“Come on, relax.”

Ignoring his protests, she pinned him down, and wrapped her arms firmly around his waist. Burying her face into his chest, her muffled voice drifted up. “Let’s sleep. I’m exhausted…”

“Well… uh… We could move the other couch over here…”

“No need. This one’s wide enough.”

“It’s wide, sure, but I toss and turn in my sleep. What if I fall off?”

“I’ll hold you.”

“…”

This is going to kill me…

Leon’s scalp prickled as he felt her leg drape over his and their bodies meld together in ways that defied logic. It wasn’t that he objected to intimacy—it was just that the woman currently clinging to him packed a punch capable of rearranging internal organs.

As any normal man would, Leon couldn’t help but entertain fleeting thoughts when she first dragged him down. But the moment her arms tightened around his waist, he heard—and felt—a distinct crack in his spine.

And thus, the phrase “this is going to kill me” took on literal meaning. Any lingering romantic notions evaporated faster than smoke in a hurricane. Right now, Leon’s sole priority was escaping her iron grip before she accidentally strangled him in her drunken stupor.

“Chief, Chief! For crying out loud, loosen up a bit!”

Pushing against her proved futile. His bones creaked ominously under the pressure. Just as he steeled himself to retaliate, he felt dampness seep through his shirt. Looking down, he realized she was trembling uncontrollably, tears soaking into his chest.

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