Two new Fanfics posted
Life in the Honkai World Starting from Zero
Genshin Impact: I Became a God and Entered the Gacha Pool
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This is Mick's mindspace, and contrary to his usual lavish and flamboyant demeanor, there's only a single old house here. The house contains few items, most of which are clearly well-worn, aged objects. Even the air conditioner is set to a modest 25 degrees Celsius.
"Slurp—" At a desk in front of a bookshelf, Mick is engrossed in slurping a bowl of zhajiang noodles, occasionally taking a swig of iced red tea from the table, eating with ravenous enthusiasm.
"Is this the mindspace of the evil Mick?" Stelle asked doubtfully. "Did we come to the wrong place?"
"No, we didn't," Clockie shook his head. "I understand your confusion, but no matter how well someone hides their outward appearance, their mindspace always reflects the deepest part of their heart, their subconscious. Everything here is absolutely real."
"Then this…" Stelle quietly pointed at Mick, who was slurping noodles, "doesn't look like the face of a capitalist at all."
"His inner self… is it really just an ordinary, poor commoner?"
Clockie pondered for a moment. "We can't jump to conclusions so hastily. Let's test him first. If his heart can still be saved, I'll consider giving him another chance."
"Alright."
The two approached Mick's desk. Stelle cleared her throat and said, "Chairman Mick, having dinner?"
Hearing someone call him, Mick paused mid-slurp, slightly lifting his head to glance at Stelle. With his mouth full, he mumbled, "Mmm, you're here? Sit, sit. If there's any work trouble, let me finish this bowl of noodles first. Been busy all day."
The two sat down, exchanging glances:
Stelle's eyes: Up-down, up-down, left-right, left-right (What's going on? In his mindspace, he's not hostile toward us?) Clockie's eyes: Left-right, left-right, up-down, up-down (No, we infiltrated his consciousness using the Clockwork trick. Here, we can be anyone—either Nameless from the Astral Express or colleagues from the Penacony Corporation.) Clockie's eyes: Up-up-up-up-up (Of course, we could also be the 'investigation team.') Stelle's eyes: Up-up-up-up (That's perfect! If we play the role of an investigation team in his mindspace, we can openly investigate what kind of person he really is, right?)
The two reached a silent agreement. Clockie coughed lightly and said, "Chairman Mick, we're pressed for time with work, so just listen while you eat."
"We're from the Family's investigation team, here to conduct an inquiry."
Hearing this, Mick froze for a moment, then asked with a surprised expression, "Investigation? Ber, what's there to investigate here?"
As he spoke, a piece of cucumber was still pinched between his chopsticks.
"Which department are you from? Ber, you can't just bully a regular guy like me, right?"
Mick's face was filled with confusion and innocence. He swallowed the noodles in his mouth and asked with a hint of indignation.
Stelle held up a hand. "Hey, don't say that. We wouldn't dare bully a regular guy. We're… uh… we're from the Family's anti-corruption department, specializing in catching corrupt officials, got it? You'd better cooperate with us."
Clockie chimed in, "You need to cooperate."
Mick's expression stiffened, and he lowered his head with a depressed sigh. "Ugh, catching corrupt officials? Why are you targeting me?"
He said self-deprecatingly, "What kind of corrupt official would live in a dump like this? This is an old house; I can barely even install a proper air conditioner."
"If a corrupt official lived in a place without even an air conditioner, honestly, the employees of Penacony would be setting off firecrackers in celebration."
Clockie rested his hands on the table, leaning forward to stare at the bowl of noodles Mick was eating. "You're living quite frugally, huh? Just a bowl of zhajiang noodles for dinner?"
Mick waved a hand. "That's how regular people live."
Stelle propped her chin on her hand. "You're not a regular person, though. You're the chairman of the Penacony Corporation."
"Chairman, my foot," Mick rolled his eyes. "The title sounds nice, but in reality? Endless meetings, endless contracts to sign, endless reports to read…"
"And you think being a chairman means I'm some emperor lounging in an ice cellar, eating delicacies with thirty-six concubines on either side?"
"This position means I have to lead Penacony to keep progressing. The future of billions of people rests on my shoulders!"
"To make sure Penacony's employees can live better lives, I, as chairman, pour every penny of my monthly salary into employee benefits!"
Clockie: "Is that so?"
Clockie's gaze swept over the room. "But you're not just any chairman. You hold immense power and freedom. Most of Penacony's contracts require your approval—even Sunday can't make decisions without your say."
Mick said earnestly, "The size of the power is all for the sake of the employees' welfare. What, just because I have money and power, I can act recklessly?"
He looked at Clockie with a regretful expression. "Tch, tch, tch. I'm not trying to lecture you, but your mindset really needs some improvement. You can't always think of personal gain first, got it?"
Stelle shot a glance at Clockie: Seriously, his inner self is this upright? It's making me feel like a rookie in front of him. Stelle: Are you sure this is the real evil Mick? This… this isn't the capitalist we saw outside. This is an entrepreneur! Clockie: No, I think things aren't as simple as they seem. You search the room; I'll handle things here.
Stelle nodded and began rummaging through the room.
Clockie leaned closer to Mick, probing further. "Chairman, well said. But while having money doesn't mean you can act recklessly, it does mean you can act selfishly, right?"
Mick locked eyes with him, and both fell silent for a few seconds before breaking into mutual smiles, as if the comment was just a joke. Neither pursued the topic further.
Mick continued slurping his zhajiang noodles, asking with genuine confusion, "So what evidence do you have to suspect me of anything?"
"Does having power automatically mean corruption? Let me tell you, in my position, there are plenty of people jealous of me."
"You've seen my living conditions. I'm telling you, stop wasting your time. If you haven't eaten, go grab some food."
—"Clockie, look at this."
Stelle approached, holding an envelope. "I found a bankbook."
Clockie remained calm. "How much?"
"Let me see… Oh, a little over 120,000 credits."
Mick laughed. "I'm not so broke that I wouldn't even have that much saved up, right?"
Clockie nodded. "Ha, fair enough, fair enough."
Stelle glanced at Clockie again: What now? He seems genuinely innocent. Could the Mick outside have some hidden reason for acting the way he does to deceive us? Clockie: Hmm… It's possible. Tsk, no choice. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong here. Let's leave for now.
However, just as the two were about to bid farewell and leave, the hat on Stelle's head suddenly twitched. Then, as if caught by a gust of wind, it abruptly floated out of the house.
"Hey! My hat!"
Stelle chased after it, but the moment the hat hit the room's wall, the wall dissolved like bubbles, revealing a dazzlingly bright room ahead.