Halo—
The greatest singularity that sets Kivotos apart from the outside world—
Possesses incredible power.
From what Hua Ye had seen and heard so far, it could manifest emotions and enhance physical resilience:
Bullets couldn’t pierce through, bombs only scratched the skin, and missiles could barely knock them unconscious.
Flipping through the defense office’s documents, Hua Ye began to understand why this high-tech school city called “Kivotos” was littered with guns everywhere.
Simply put, for them, guns might not really be dangerous—
“Last month’s ‘D.U. District repair costs,’ tallied by the Defense Office… reported to the Finance Office… sixty million credits?! What the hell are credits? Probably Kivotos’s currency… I wonder what their purchasing power is… But even with low purchasing power, that much is terrifying. What happened last month?”
Hua Ye muttered, holding her head with one hand while flipping through the defense office’s January report summary with the other.
Outside the office’s glass door, Sensei was gesturing and talking with another student, apparently learning about the defense office’s duties.
“Let me see… the main reason is… Millennium Institute’s special club conducted a special activity in D.U. Rabbit District, causing a massive explosion? The defense office arrived but the culprits had already fled. They deduced it was Millennium based on the remaining new-type bullets not circulating in the outside world and explosives far exceeding market standards… What is this? What kind of club activity causes an explosion?”
Hua Ye’s expression twisted as she read the report word by word, continuing.
“…A certain club at Gehenna Academy maliciously used explosives to ‘develop’ the school’s land, causing a massive wildfire that spread into the D.U. District? When the defense office arrived, the culprits had already been arrested by Gehenna’s own law enforcement and locked up in Gehenna’s autonomous correctional facility?”
What the hell is this?
What does “maliciously use explosives to ‘develop’ land” even mean?
Were they using bombs to dig lakes out of land?
Besides the three full pages of damage caused by various clubs from different academies for bizarre and inexplicable reasons, there were also scattered reports of compensation for damages from “daily gunfights between students leading to damage to beastman and robot shops, destroyed goods, and mental trauma”—
Amounting to nearly three million credits…
After reading these shocking reports, Hua Ye fell silent.
Ever since the suppression operation and the Helmet gang’s voluntary surrender and capture, she had known that Kivotos was probably abnormal due to Halo and the widespread gun ownership…
But was it really this insane?
Why was there even this bizarre entry:
“Because a club from the Wild Hunt Art Academy held an artistic activity in D.U. White Bird District that was too lively and appealing, a disagreement over artistic preferences triggered a large-scale gunfight in White Bird District. The defense office caught them, but Wild Hunt Academy intervened with the excuse of ‘The club will compensate the Federal Student Council,’ and the defense office had to release them due to autonomy rights.”
Was student life in Kivotos really this crazy?
What kind of monsters founded these clubs?
Were these little Kivotos brats, protected by their Halos, already so insane that they detonated explosives everywhere, had gunfights constantly, and played with anti-tank grenades like soccer balls?
Who the hell was educating them?!
When I first woke up, the documents I saw said Kivotos was a school city!
What kind of people are teaching these kids?
Are they only teaching them how to fool around, not knowledge or basic morals?
Hua Ye pinched her brow and looked at the end of the file, where a previous version of herself had signed a directive.
“Reviewed. Send a copy of this report to the Finance Office, along with the Defense Office’s ammunition consumption this month from suppressing other academy clubs. Remind the Finance Office to factor this into each academy’s taxes and subsequent compensation claims.”
“Next time, don’t write enforcement incident losses in the financial report. That’s not our jurisdiction—it’s a Finance Office function issue. I’ll resolve it within the month.”
“Remember: the Defense Office only manages, not the losses caused by management or loss statistics. I don’t want to see anything in the financial report that isn’t the Defense Office’s budget expenditures.”
Under those blue-ink words, a delicate handwriting added a red-ink postscript.
“You don’t need to get involved in this. I’ll communicate directly with the President.”
The handwriting was neat, upright, and elegant.
Even the slight connecting strokes only showed the efficiency and ease characteristic of handling administrative affairs—
Not the rushed scribbling of someone trying to finish documents in a hurry.
Looking at those words, perfectly aligned with the printed text above like an obsessive-compulsive would do, one could imagine the writer pondering each word, squinting slightly, tapping a finger on her cheek, striking an elegant and intelligent pose of deliberation, then bending down after a moment’s thought and quickly writing the directive on the paper.
Looks like my past self had decent work skills.
Handled so many things without panic, knew the Defense Office’s scope of authority, understood how to pass the buck, shift responsibility, and go to the boss.
“As expected of me.”
Hua Ye nodded in satisfaction, the pale pink hair locks hanging by her ears swaying in agreement.
Outside the glass door, Sensei seemed to have finished learning about the functions.
He was laughing and chatting with the student, who was already unable to help bobbing her head and looking at him with curiosity and delight.
A moment later, apparently after swapping Momotalk friend info, the student grinned, waved her phone, secretly glanced at Hua Ye in the office, then walked into the nearby elevator and left the top floor of the New Base.
Sensei sighed contentedly, a smile on his face, and knocked on the door from outside.
Hua Ye, who had been watching the consultant’s movements all along, rolled her eyes involuntarily.
A vague irritation stirred in her heart.
He could clearly see her inside through the glass door, and they had agreed to discuss work matters after he got that tablet called the Shittim Chest.
But instead, this new consultant had asked Hua Ye for some time so he could first understand things from the staff before discussing subsequent issues.
—Although Hua Ye herself was unclear about the Defense Office, that didn’t stop her from feeling a bit annoyed.
So this is what being a boss feels like?
She thought silently, suppressing the irritation, raised her head, and said, “Come in.”
Sensei greeted Hua Ye with a cheerful expression, walked over to her massive desk, stood there, and waited for her instructions.
“…How’s the Shittim Chest? If manual operation and daily charging are inconvenient, I could try to contact those Millennium kids. Their technology is advanced enough—they should have a way to automate the defense…”
Hua Ye listened to the words that had slipped out of her mouth involuntarily and froze.
…I was going to make him report the Defense Office’s daily duties he’d learned, so I could understand my own responsibilities…
Why did I end up talking about that broken Shittim Chest tablet instead…
Sensei froze for a moment, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
A hint of smile and gentleness appeared on his sincere, warm face.
“Thanks for your concern. But I think it’s okay for now. Although the President’s keepsakes need manual operation, it should be sufficient for the moment… No need to trouble yourself.”
Smooth talker…
That thing needs daily charging, manual activation of protection, and even at max power can barely withstand one or two missiles…
How is it supposed to help you survive in such a crazy world…
President…
Why didn’t you help him a little more…
Even just building an AI system into the Shittim Chest to autonomously judge dangerous situations and activate protection…
No…
The note the President left said it was an “ancient artifact” that even the Federal Student Council and Millennium couldn’t analyze—
Technology beyond Kivotos.
The President probably couldn’t do anything either…
“Then, report to me what you’ve learned about the Defense Office’s duties, Consultant.”
“Yes, Hua Ye Director.”
“…Don’t call me Director… Call me… Hua Ye-san, or just Hua Ye…”
It’s weirdly embarrassing—
A man over 1.8m tall reporting work to a girl barely reaching his chest, using respectful language…
Doesn’t this guy have any shame?
He wasn’t embarrassed, but Hua Ye, who had never experienced such strange treatment in her previous life, felt embarrassed first…
And somehow, in front of this guy, she couldn’t feel the calm acceptance of her status she had in the Student Council…
Guh…
Don’t call me Director…
Sensei froze, smiled, and said, “Yes, Hua Ye-san.”