What the Hell Is the Marksman Doing? Did You Shoot It All onto Your Hands?

Ever since he had started standing up for himself, Meng Han had felt fantastic.

His back no longer ached, his legs no longer hurt, and he could ride the elevator all the way up to the third floor in one go.

Especially after seeing the Oily President and that fake innocent get put in their place, he could hide in his room and snicker for ages.

Much of the humiliation and frustration he had endured over his years in the entertainment industry dissolved in an instant. It was as though he had opened his Ren and Du Meridians and mastered the ultimate art of punishing fake innocents and eliminating scumbags.

[Hanhan's shoulders are shaking so hard. Is he crying?]

[Did he use up all his strength telling them off just now?]

[Don't be scared, Hanhan. You've got us, and more importantly, Assistant Chen. Any retaliation will be dealt with easily!]

[Wait! Am I the only one who thinks he's laughing?! Did telling them off feel so good that it even unclogged his milk ducts?]

[Hahahahaha, exactly, he's laughing! Hanhan is so cute. He's actually hiding in a corner, holding his head and laughing?]

In the control room, Director Meng looked worried at the sight. He grabbed the sunflower seeds on the table and offered them to Chen Bei with both hands. "Assistant Chen, this brand is pretty good. They taste like sunflower seeds. Try some."

"Thanks, thanks." Chen Bei accepted them, speaking with a Guangyue accent.

Seeing Assistant Chen relax, Director Meng ventured another question. "Assistant Chen, about making President Chen serve Meng Han as a servant, could we hold off on that? I'm worried those two..."

Chen Bei raised an eyebrow. "You're worried they'll fight? And interfere with filming?"

Director Meng nodded like a chicken pecking grain. "Yes, yes, yes. I'm worried they'll get impulsive!"

"Don't worry," Chen Bei replied as he cracked seeds. "Meng Han has trained in boxing. He won't get the worst of it."

"That's good." No sooner had Director Meng said it than he jolted again. "Who's worried about Meng Han getting the worst of it? We can't have President Chen getting beaten up either! Vulgarity, violence, and gore will all get the broadcast shut down!"

"You have a point." Chen Bei pretended to give it serious thought, then said, "If anything gory comes up, remember to cut it. Don't air it."

Director Meng was speechless. This is a fucking livestream. How am I supposed to cut it?!

While the two were talking, Meng Han dialed a number on the screen and turned on speakerphone.

Holding his task list, he listened to the ringing. It went on for ages before the other party reluctantly answered.

"What do you want now?!"

"If you want to beg for forgiveness, that depends on my mood."

"I'm in a bad mood right now. Call me back later!"

The greasy bastard's confident, conceited voice came through the speaker. Meng Han couldn't help rolling his eyes. "Who's begging for your forgiveness? This is about completing your punishment task."

"Get my footbath ready within three minutes."

"Remember, the temperature has to be forty-five degrees. Not one degree higher or lower."

"Put saffron in the water. Wrap it in gauze, and don't let any spill out!"

He hurriedly hung up as soon as he finished. The other man only managed to shout, "Meng Han, who gave you the nerve-"

[Ha! Who gave him the nerve? Assistant Chen, obviously!]

[I've figured it out. This world is one giant cycle. The three-minute rule will eventually come full circle.]

[Hahahahaha, person above, just call it karma and be done with it!]

The study in the Luo Family's old residence.

Seeing his young master carrying a basin of footbath water, Steward Li couldn't quite bear it. He hesitantly asked, "Old Master, isn't this task going a little too far?"

"When has the eldest young master ever waited on anyone?"

"Won't it hurt his pride too much? He still has to manage the company in the future, after all..."

At that, Old Luo's lips twitched. "This is enough to hurt his pride?"

"It doesn't even compare to what I went through back then!"

Steward Li sighed. "Old Master, you've suffered plenty, but you can't..."

Tear away someone else's umbrella just because you've been caught in the rain yourself!

He didn't dare say the rest, because the old master's piercing gaze shot toward him like a blade.

"This is just a variety show. It's nothing like reality. If they actually went through it, they might not be able to make it!"

Only half understanding the old master's painstaking intentions, Steward Li stood silently to one side and said nothing more, turning his gaze back to the screen-

The Fourth Young Master's bedroom area.

Luo Chen wore a bespoke, handmade suit, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the powerful lines of his muscles. His bearing was noble, as though he were attending a banquet.

That was, of course, if he hadn't been holding a basin of footbath water.

Looking utterly disgruntled, he headed down the corridor toward the elevator.

Old Luo Third and Old Luo Fourth stood by their doors. "Busy, big brother?"

Without looking back, Luo Chen scoffed. "What do you two think?"

"You're really something, big brother." A sinister gleam flashed through Old Luo Third's eyes. "You've managed to stay firmly in last place for days on end and hog all the limelight."

Luo Chen laughed in anger. "Would you want this limelight if I gave it to you?"

Old Luo Fourth chimed in. "Once the company shareholders see how adaptable you are, big brother, making steady progress, your approval rating will probably shoot up again."

Luo Chen stopped. "Come on, then. You can have this approval rating!"

"Never mind," Old Luo Third and Old Luo Fourth said in unison. "We're not fortunate enough to enjoy it."

Then they turned around at the same time, went straight into their rooms, and slammed their doors shut.

Luo Chen was speechless. I'm fucking dead last, and you can still spin a conspiracy theory out of it?!

Thoroughly disgruntled, he carried the footbath to Meng Han's door and shouted, "Open up!"

After a long wait, the door finally opened from inside. "Come in."

Meng Han's voice was cool as he stepped aside to make room.

Luo Chen snorted, strode into the room, and set the basin at the foot of the bed. Then he straightened his back. "What else do you need? Tell me everything at once."

"That's all for now." Still standing by the door, Meng Han put on a bossy air. "Wait to hear from me about the other tasks."

Luo Chen turned to leave, then suddenly thought of something. A sly curve returned to his lips. "I can't leave. The task is only half done."

Meng Han was puzzled. "Why only half?"

"After fetching the water, I have to wash your feet myself. That's called finishing what you start." Luo Chen rolled up his sleeves. "Are you taking them off, or should I help you?"

Meng Han covered his chest. "You greasy bastard, can you have some shame?!"

[Pfft! The Oily President has become a greasy bastard?!]

[The Oily President is going all out. If he can't disgust himself to death, he'll disgust everyone else to death!]

[Just say you want to take advantage of an omega. Why bother making excuses?]

[Wash them? You don't even get to lick them!]

Luo Ming had stayed hidden in his room and hadn't appeared at all.

He stared at the message on his phone, his brow tightly furrowed. Before long, he dialed a number.

"What does this diagnosis mean?"

"What do you mean, intermittent olfactory dysfunction?!"

"You mean sometimes he can't smell pheromones?!"

A voice came from the other end. "In theory, yes. For specifics, we'd have to look at how the condition develops and what caused it. Could it be a hidden secondary differentiation..."

"Normally, the company gives employees a medical examination before they start work. That would contain a more detailed report."

Luo Ming fell silent for a few seconds, then said in a low voice, "All right. I understand."

After hanging up, he rose from the armchair and walked over to the open floor-to-ceiling window. A thin, slender figure in the garden came into view, and a clear voice reached his ears.

"Jungler, you're not joining team fights. Are you fucking sitting in that bush recovering from childbirth?!"

"What the hell is the marksman doing? Did you shoot it all onto your hands?"

"What equipment does the support have on? A burial shroud?"

"..."

Luo Ming was speechless. Such vicious trash talk.

He hasn't undergone a secondary differentiation into an alpha, has he?!