Black Tea and Academic Probing in the Principal's Office
On the top floor of the Flamebearers' Academy, the walnut door was left ajar.
Moning's leather shoes tapped the stone slabs at a frequency that was out of control.
The manila envelope in her arms bulged at one corner, and the red security label had a crescent-shaped mark from her fingernails.
The aroma of black tea wafted out from inside the door.
Lupa sat in a high-backed chair by the window, a tea saucer resting on her fingertips, her gaze fixed on the red-tinged forest behind the mountain.
She didn't turn around, but pointed to the chair opposite her.
"The last time you left in such a hurry was the day the sewer in the student dormitory backed up."
Moning slammed the file folder on the table with a dull thud.
She didn't sit down, but pointed at the cover with her finger.
"Principal, this is the third supplementary observation report this week."
Lupa put down her teacup, pulled out the stack of papers, and flipped through them rapidly with her fingertips.
The first page is a photocopy of the material procurement acceptance certificate; the official seal on the red envelope exudes an eerie aura even through the paper.
The second page is the maintenance record of the distribution box, and a close-up photo shows the fuse with the burnt skin of a roasted sweet potato attached to it.
The third page contains the acoustic spectrum of the shattered idol, and the waveform does not conform to any known physical model.
Her finger stopped on the seventh page.
It was a table, Moning had drawn the difference ratios in red pen, piercing through three and a half squares of the paper.
He said it's called the materials acceptance process.
Moning's voice was very tense.
Lupa a sip of her black tea.
The edifice of physics has not collapsed.
Moning finally sat down, took off his glasses, and pressed his temples hard.
"But he poked several holes in them with a broom and documents."
She flipped to the third-to-last page of the report, her fingertip poking at the waveform graph.
"When those three members of the Fractsidus became cleaners, I detected a pulse that covered the rules; the waveform frequency perfectly matched the fiber structure of that 'Campus Environmental Hygiene Management Regulations' document."
"It's not the file content that's taking effect."
"It was he who pasted the document."
Lupa to the last page, where there was only one line of bold questions blurred by fingerprints.
Moning's voice sounded like a judgment.
Does he have the authority to intervene in the underlying rules governing the world?
Lupa the file and pushed it back.
"No resonance fluctuations, no energy consumption, no trace of Tacet Discord."
"His vital signs only showed two states before and after each time he took action: before drinking tea and after drinking tea."
Moning put his glasses back on.
"What I'm worried about is something else."
She pulled a photograph from the deepest part of the file folder; the photograph showed a half-dismantled Fractsidus Resonance Beacon.
"The recruited cleaner accidentally triggered it while cleaning, and afterwards, cleaning efficiency increased by 17%."
Lupa took the photo, glanced at it in the setting sun, and her eyes darkened.
In the photo, within the shattered cross-section of the beacon's core crystal, a cluster of pale gold threads converges towards the same central point.
"The instruction logic has been reversed."
Lupa placed the photograph on the table, her fingertip pointing to the center.
"The Fractsidus's beacon is for spreading pollution, but this one is cleaning up signal debris inside."
It thought it was a vacuum cleaner.
Moning fell silent.
The tea bubbled up on the heating plate.
So what is your judgment?
"Worried."
Lupa stared at a filter paper slowly soaked with tea stains.
"We are not facing someone with special abilities, but someone who can use our rules to judge us."
"Right now, all he wants to do is eat ribs and date. What if he gets pushed to the limit one day?"
Moning did not respond.
Lupa looked at the veins bulging on her forehead.
"So, you wrote this report not just to keep me up at night."
Moning opened her notebook.
"I suggest arranging a real-world emergency to push the environmental variables to a critical point and observe which layer of logic it will invoke."
"In Warehouse No. 3 of the hazardous chemicals storage area, we can trigger an alarm for excessive pressure in the aging pipelines, with the peak pressure controlled at 97% of the safe threshold."
"The alarms and data are real, but it won't explode."
"The Logistics Department director's authority is by default linked to the emergency response whitelist, and he must be present."
Lupa, then put down her teacup, leaving the water undisturbed.
"Add one more."
Moning looked up.
"After I finished dealing with it, I personally went to the cafeteria to try the sweet and sour pork ribs he made."
Moning pursed his lips into a thin line and wrote a note in his notebook.
The pen paused for a moment, then added another line, "It is recommended that the principal bring his own meal card, as this employee is extremely sensitive to the prices of food in the cafeteria."
Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside the office, mixed with the electronic voice of the triage robot NANA.
Someone is calling SpongeBob SquarePants.
Some people even replied to the big boss in a childlike voice.
Lupa raised an eyebrow.
Moning closed her laptop, her workaholic personality flashing across her face before she forcefully suppressed it.
"It seems something happened to Lu Hesi."
Lupa laughed, got up, and walked to the window.
An orange cat was perched on the tin roof of the Logistics Office, its tail brushing against the rust.
"Then let's do it tomorrow."
"You set up the scene, I'll go find him for lunch."
She turned around, her eyes reflecting the sunset.
"By the way, did he consider the effects of fluid dynamics when he used a paper net to scoop up goldfish?"
Meanwhile, at the Logistics Department warehouse.
Zhou Yu was pressing the medical malpractice report onto the table when SpongeBob SquarePants's cheerful voice hadn't yet faded.
The screen of the old-fashioned digital watch on his left wrist flickered, and a string of garbled characters flashed by.
Zhou Yu glanced down at the thermos without stopping.
The abnormal process ID and trigger timestamp in the monitoring background coincided exactly with the time Moning closed his laptop.
He put down his thermos, pulled out a blank purchase order, turned it over, and began to write.
"Work overtime?"
Next to the two words, there was a question mark and an X.
He finally drew the shape of a red official seal and filled in a line of annotations in tiny print at the center.
According to the college's regulations, emergency response to sudden accidents falls under the category of overtime work, and overtime pay is calculated at 150% of the basic hourly wage. Night shifts are also compensated with a meal allowance.
Zhou Yu folded the paper, stuffed it into his breast pocket, and patted it.
The SpongeBob SquarePants voice came out of his throat.
"Oh, get ready, kids! Tomorrow we'll not only be collecting debts, but we might also have to collect overtime pay!"
Dania took a slice of apple from the food container, popped it into her mouth, and mumbled a response.
Sigelica leaned against the doorframe, her head down as she typed in the encrypted group chat.
[I only want to know one thing right now.]
Linnai replied instantly.
[Explain.]
[Can you share some of my overtime pay? He still owes me a six-figure sum.]
Chisaki, with her childlike voice, chimed in from the side.
"I can use a financial model to calculate the weekly interest for Sister Xixi. If we calculate it according to Article 37 of the Flamebearers' Academy Labor Law, Big Brother's overtime pay can probably cover 0.3% of the debt."
Sigelica placed the terminal on her forehead and closed her eyes.
The orange cat outside the window yawned, rolled off the roof, and landed on a pile of old, discarded electrical boxes, making a crackling sound as the rust crumbled. (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧