Nekko Nyan Café - 10:17 PM
An hour and thirty minutes later, Yu Lin finished his last orders and gathered the remaining customers' attention with a practiced clap of his hands.
"Attention, masters~! ♡" His voice carried through the café with that same impossible high pitch. "Yu-chan has to go home now, nya~! And Yu-chan won't be working for about three to five days!"
A collective groan of disappointment rippled through the café. Several regulars actually looked genuinely upset.
"NOOO! Who's going to do the moe moe beam?!"
"Yu-chan, don't leave us!"
Yu Lin's face brightened immediately, his hands clasping together near his chest. "Awww, masters are so sweet~! But don't worry! Yu-chan will make sure EVERYONE has a whole week's worth of love to tide them over!"
He took center stage in the middle of the café floor, struck his most dramatic pose yet—arms spread wide, one leg forward, head tilted back—and channeled every ounce of his professional catboy energy.
"MOE MOE SUPER BEAM~! ✨✨✨ MAXIMUM POWER~! ♡♡♡"
He made elaborate hand gestures, spinning twice, ending in a deep theatrical bow that made his cat ears bounce.
The customers erupted in applause and cheers, several taking photos and videos, clearly planning to survive Yu-chan withdrawal through documentation.
Yu Lin straightened, gave one final wink and peace sign, then skipped toward the employee changing room with exaggerated cuteness.
The moment the door closed behind him, his entire demeanor shifted.
He let out a deep sigh—his real voice, several octaves lower than his customer-service persona—and muttered to himself while untying his apron. "Fuck, I have to take another break from work."
He hung up the maid outfit carefully, changing into his street clothes: black jeans, a plain hoodie, sneakers. His white hair stayed styled but he removed the cat ear headband and tail accessory.
He sat on the changing room bench and pulled out the file Nergui had given him, reading through it again with professional attention.
"I'm going to miss my customers," he said softly, a hint of genuine sentiment in his voice. Then he paused and corrected himself with a slight smirk. "Well, their tips. I'm going to miss their tips."
Then again, tracking this target paid 80,000 yuan. That was several months' worth of café work condensed into probably a week or two of field work.
He read the file details carefully:
TARGET: TÒUMÍNG
Age: 19 (unknown birth year) Height: 5'9" Weight: Approximately 130 lbs Occupation: Miner Known Associates: Ghost Claw (vigilante organization), various criminals
PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Hacked contacts and search history show significant volume of femboy pornography consumption. Target likely homosexual and/or highly susceptible to femboy and feminine seduction tactics.
WARNING: Target has a femboy associate and/or lover (identity: MĚI NÁN, age 23, professional escort). Be advised that suspected infidelity may cause said associate to retaliate. Exercise caution.
Yu Lin giggled—his real laugh, not the fake high-pitched one—and set the file down. "This is the easiest target I've ever been assigned. All I have to do is make him head over heels, get him to trust me, and call it in."
He looked at Tòumíng's photo again, studying the features. Young. Rough around the edges. Cute in that street-kid way. The kind of face that probably hadn't been told it was attractive very often.
Yu Lin bit his lip slightly, a genuine gesture of appreciation. "Annnnd he's cute too. This might actually be fun."
The changing room door opened suddenly.
A short, ginger-haired femboy coworker—Kenji, one of the other performers—walked in and caught Yu Lin reading the file.
Yu Lin jumped, reflexively hiding the file behind his back, his face shifting to innocent surprise. "K-Kenji! Hi!"
Kenji looked at him with obvious suspicion, his eyes narrowing. "What were you reading?"
"Just the usual! Love letter from a customer! Nothing important!" Yu Lin's voice had automatically pitched higher, slipping back into character defensively.
Kenji stared at him for a long moment, clearly not buying it, but eventually shrugged. "Whatever. Just don't bring drama to work when you get back."
He turned around and started changing out of his own costume.
Yu Lin breathed a sigh of relief, tucked the file safely into his hoodie pocket, and finished getting dressed.
Time to start the hunt.
Ghost Claw's Base - Medical Wing
Tòumíng was currently in Ghost Claw's office—a surprisingly normal room with a desk, filing cabinets, and a computer setup—making his case.
"So I'm pretty please asking if I could get a phone? Because mine died. Well, actually it got waterlogged and died. And I'm kinda broke. Like really broke. Like I have maybe 12,000 yuan left and that needs to cover debt payments and food and—"
Ghost Claw held up a hand, cutting him off. "Fine. Whatever. You're technically a defacto member of this organization now, I guess, so it wouldn't hurt to provide basic equipment."
Tòumíng's face brightened. "Really?! Thank you! You're the best!"
"Think Tink The Tinkerer has spare phones in his workshop. Go ask him. He'll give you something functional."
"Thank you!"
Tòumíng limped out of the office—his leg still healing from Svetlana's brutal relocation—and made his way down the stairs to the basement where Think Tink The Tinkerer's workshop was located.
He pushed open the door and was immediately greeted by a sight that no normal human being would believe if they hadn't witnessed it with their own eyes.
Think Tink The Tinkerer was sitting cross-legged on the floor, Cfuar—his four-foot-long Asian Water Monitor lizard—sitting attentively in front of him.
Between them was a whiteboard covered in advanced calculus equations. Below the whiteboard, arranged on the floor, were four pieces of raw meat.
Think Tink The Tinkerer was pointing at the whiteboard with a stick, his expression deadly serious.
"Alright, Cfuar. Advanced calculus. College level. Pay attention."
He wrote on the whiteboard:
Given the function f(x,y) = x²y + 3xy² - 2y³, find the partial derivatives ∂f/∂x and ∂f/∂y, then determine the critical points and classify them using the second partial derivative test.
He stepped back and pointed at the four pieces of meat.
"Meat A represents: ∂f/∂x = 2xy + 3y², ∂f/∂y = x² + 6xy - 6y², critical point at (0,0), saddle point."
"Meat B represents: ∂f/∂x = 2xy + 3y², ∂f/∂y = x² + 6xy - 6y², critical point at (2,1), local maximum."
"Meat C represents: ∂f/∂x = 2xy + 3y², ∂f/∂y = x² + 6xy - 6y², critical point at (-1,-1), local minimum."
"Meat D represents: All of the above could be correct depending on domain restrictions."
He waited expectantly.
Cfuar looked at the meats. Looked at the whiteboard. Looked back at the meats.
Then ate all four pieces of meat in rapid succession.
"SMART BOY!" Think Tink The Tinkerer praised enthusiastically. "ALL FOUR ANSWERS COULD BE CORRECT! IT WAS 'ALL OF THE ABOVE'! YOU'RE A GENIUS, CFUAR!"
He stroked the lizard's head affectionately.
Then his expression became more serious. "But now we need to make sure this isn't a Clever Hans situation where you're just reading my body language and reactions instead of actually understanding the math."
He grabbed his welding mask and put it on, completely obscuring his face and any possible tells.
"New question. If the answer is 12, bite me. If the answer is 15, maul Tòumíng."
Tòumíng's eyes went wide. "WAIT, WHAT—"
Think Tink The Tinkerer wrote on the whiteboard through the welding mask:
What is 9 + 6?
Cfuar's head swiveled toward Tòumíng.
Then LAUNCHED.
The four-foot lizard moved with terrifying speed, its claws extended, mouth open, heading directly for Tòumíng's face.
Tòumíng barely managed to grab a large piece of scrap metal from a nearby workbench and hold it up as a shield.
CLANG.
Cfuar hit the metal with tremendous force, his claws scrabbling against the surface, before losing purchase and scurrying back to Think Tink The Tinkerer.
Think Tink The Tinkerer removed his welding mask and beamed with pride. "GOOD BOY, CFUAR! THE ANSWER WAS FIFTEEN! YOU GOT IT RIGHT!"
He gave the lizard another piece of meat as a reward.
Tòumíng was still holding the scrap metal, breathing hard, his heart racing. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"
Think Tink The Tinkerer looked up as if noticing Tòumíng for the first time. "Oh! You're here! Did you need something?"
"A phone! Ghost Claw said you have spares!"
"Oh yeah, over there in that bin. Help yourself."
Tòumíng grabbed a phone from the indicated container, still watching Cfuar warily.
"Why the fuck is he named Cfuar anyway?!"
Think Tink The Tinkerer's grin widened. "C-4! Like the explosive! Because of his explosively loving personality!"
As if on cue, Cfuar crawled up Think Tink The Tinkerer's body and started nibbling gently on his ear.
Think Tink The Tinkerer didn't flinch. "See? Loving."