Emotionally speaking, Li Lin felt… misaligned.
He'd just been in the dark, calling wind and rain, putting on one hell of a show. He'd squeezed out guarantees and small promises, stabilized his standing, ensured he wouldn't be casually "one-handed" into an execution. And now, coming back, he was greeted by a scene that could only be described as… warm.
Every last one of Penguin Logistics' beauties was present, packed into the apartment until it felt overflowing. Not just the smooth thighs and exposed collarbones—there were also those freshly-showered flushed faces, the faint steam clinging to skin. Even the ambient warmth and that subtle, bodily closeness in the air washed the fatigue off him in an instant. Li Lin blinked, honestly surprised.
"What's going on? Why are you all here?"
"Rain," Texas said.
She had a pocky in her mouth, sitting on the sofa, studying the cards in her hand as she spoke quietly.
"And there's fighting over in the outskirts. Not a good time for us to show up. You and Exusiai live here, so we came over."
"Then why are you wearing my clothes?"
"Exusiai's are in the wash."
"And yours?"
"We got rained on. Those are washing too."
"…"
As if to prove the point, the washing machine could be heard running faintly in the background.
In the room, the girls' warmth—and the suggestive atmosphere it brought—made the whole place feel loose, soft, inviting. Like it wanted to pull him in.
To be honest, it was a dreamlike scene.
A group of gorgeous, beyond-criticism girls sprawled across his room and bed, wearing his clothes, playing games.
Texas had a white towel draped over her head, wearing an oversized hoodie that hung loose and casual, her long, clean legs exposed as she stared seriously at the tabletop numbers. Exusiai was grinning, wearing familiar black underwear and hot pants, looking utterly confident.
And Croissant—Croissant was even more outrageous. Like a "Thinker" statue, she'd wrapped Li Lin's clothes around her chest and lower body in a messy knot, so bold it made him suspect she'd simply wound fabric around herself and came to play without actually putting anything on underneath.
Because they'd just been bathing, everyone's skin looked luminous and smooth, with beads of water still clinging here and there. Their breath carried heat that felt almost like an implication.
It was the kind of scene that made blood surge.
But the moment Li Lin spotted one particular idol—wearing his dark outerwear, collarbones and shoulders exposed, smooth thighs bare, staring intently at her cards—his "big head" seized control from the "little head."
Endure.
It wasn't that Sora wasn't cute. It wasn't that this scene wasn't dangerously sweet.
It was that there were more important matters waiting for him.
This was not the time to rest. The kill-line danger hadn't passed.
Not yet, little brother. Not yet.
"Li Lin? Why are you still standing at the door? Close it—cold air's coming in."
"It's nothing."
He shut the door, peeled off his slightly damp black coat, and made sure not to let any complicated expression show. Calmly, he looked at the people hugging his blankets and clothes while playing a tabletop game.
"What are you playing?"
"Liberi Detective! New tabletop game. We're free right now—come play with us?"
"…"
Just hearing the name told him exactly what kind of game it was: a protagonist with no clue what's going on, who wants to save people but doesn't know how, stumbling through everything as the outsider.
A little insulting to Liberi, maybe—but it was the truth. He wasn't making it up.
Looking at the box art—the delicate, beautiful Liberi lady detective with that unmistakable "out of the loop" expression—Li Lin felt like the thing was practically a warning from fate.
Everyone knew it: Liberi know nothing. Liberi are always kept in the dark. And if he jumped into that game with insufficient information, he would absolutely get caught out.
Then what? A "small punishment"? Some "intimate contact"? Like getting all clingy with the girls?
Could he hold it?
If he couldn't, could he solve the problems his little head would cause?
Don't ask whether it's a "proper" game. Li Lin didn't believe he had the willpower to keep things proper.
If he messed up, it would all be over.
Knowing it's dangerous and still leaning in—that's stupidity.
"No. I'll pass."
He pulled the white coat from the hanger and slipped it on, then tossed his slightly damp black uniform into the bathroom. He nodded at everyone in the room.
"I just remembered I have something to do. I won't play. You all enjoy."
"Huh? Oh… what is it? Anything we can help with?"
"My own business. Private. Have fun."
Now dressed in clean white, Li Lin gave them a calm smile, took his umbrella, and stepped into the night without hesitation.
Inside the room, Penguin Logistics' people exchanged looks. Each one saw something odd in the others' eyes.
Why did it feel like he'd gotten more distant?
He'd always been like this, sure, but it hadn't felt this… polite before.
Just a few days ago it almost felt closer. Why did he seem farther away now?
"What's up with Li Lin? He's been acting mysterious lately. Something going on?"
"No idea."
"I don't get it either. I ask him to come sell at the stall and he won't anymore. We've lost a lot. Three days ago he wasn't like this."
The three of them looked at one another, puzzled—until a key detail snapped a fourth person's thoughts awake.
"…Eh?"
Three days ago?
No way.
It shouldn't be that, right?
Sora stared at the door Li Lin had left through and a tiny possibility surfaced in her mind.
But the moment she thought it through, she rejected it. Li Lin seemed like a reliable, mysterious man who could do anything; a little trick like hers wouldn't even register. How could he possibly distance himself from everyone because of that?
…Right?
Could it really be because of her?
Looking down at the card in her hand—the huge, unmistakable "X" printed on it—Sora suddenly felt, vaguely, that she might have done something wrong.
The rain poured down, flowing like sand.
Not long after, near Lungmen Central Park, Li Lin spotted the scaly-beast-meatball stall still open for business beneath a battered old umbrella. He held his own small umbrella and walked over.
"One bowl of scale-balls."
"Coming right up."
Li Lin put away his umbrella and sat down in a clean chair, wearing his white coat. Looking out at Central Park—quiet beneath the curtain of rain—he spoke casually to the busy owner.
"When will Miss Lin arrive?"
"…Since you've already come, she should be here any moment now."
"Good."
Li Lin sat there, watching the night, and waited as time moved on.
....
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