Time always seemed to pass especially quickly when X was with Little Bird.
Those simple conversations, childish games, and clear, ringing laughter were like sunlight piercing through layers of withered branches, injecting long-lost vitality and joy into the lifeless Black Forest.
Because of that, X even began to wonder whether the terrifying giant monster Little Bird spoke of truly existed at all.
If it did exist, then why had he found no trace of it during his two deep explorations?
And if it didn't exist, why was Little Bird so certain—so certain that she believed only the combined strength of her two sisters could deal with it?
After saying a somewhat reluctant goodbye to Little Bird and leaving the Abnormality's world, X quickly woke up.
"Mm~"
X opened his eyes and felt exceptionally refreshed, as if his very soul had been washed clean.
Spending time with such a purely adorable little being seemed to have quietly dissolved the fatigue, pressure, and confusion he had accumulated the day before.
He sat up in bed, stretched comfortably, and casually glanced at the clock on the nightstand.
7:54 a.m.—only six minutes left before work began.
"I'M GOING TO BE LATE!!!"
A shout shattered the morning silence.
The haze in X 's mind, born of a good night's sleep, instantly vanished at the thought of being late.
He didn't even have time to wash up. Grabbing two pieces of clothing from the chair beside the bed and throwing them on at random, he shot out of the bedroom like a rocket.
—
DAY 17, 7:57 a.m.
"Hah… hah…"
X braced his hands on his knees, panting as he leaned against the doorframe of the manager's office.
"At least… at least I still… hah… made it with a bit of time to spare…"
After catching his breath, he straightened up and pushed the door open.
Inside the office stood a familiar blue figure who had clearly been waiting for quite some time.
Angela was standing quietly beside his desk, completely still.
Her gaze wasn't on the late-arriving X , but on the small, unremarkable cactus pot sitting on the desk.
The light reflected in her golden eyes was complexand difficult to describe.
Melancholy. Confusion. A trace of unspoken sorrow—along with something else, something subtle that X couldn't quite put into words.
It was hard to believe that someone with such eyes was merely an AI.
But that expression lasted only an instant—so brief that X wondered if it had been nothing more than an illusion brought on by exertion.
"Good morning, Manager."
Angela turned around. Her eyes had already returned to their usual calm, capable look, belonging to an AI secretary, as if nothing unusual had ever happened.
"It's rare to see you arriving exactly on time. Did something happen?"
Her tone was neutral, tinged with curiosity.
"It's nothing serious."
X pulled out his chair, sat down, and opened the operating system with practiced ease, immediately pressing the Begin Work button to cover up his guilt through action.
"I just overslept."
"Is that so?"
Angela raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips seeming to lift ever so slightly.
"Honestly speaking, I do prefer it when you come in on time like this~"
"At least it's better than yesterday, when you went to chat with Malkuth before five in the morning due to insomnia, returned to your bedroom at exactly five, then took a roughly two-and-a-half-hour nap…"
"…only to be forcibly woken by your alarm in the middle of a deep sleep cycle, resulting in suboptimal mental condition for the entire day."
"So you knew all that…"
X 's hands paused briefly. He laughed awkwardly.
In truth, he was well aware that if Angela wished it, every corner of the company could become her eyes.
But X wasn't someone who could truly remain indifferent to omnipresent surveillance.
Perhaps that was precisely why, in the "Inner Lobotomy Corporation," a place beyond observation, he could finally feel more secure—more genuinely Relaxed—than he ever could in reality.
Abnormality Selection Time—
Three pitch-black boxes appeared on the screen, accompanied by cold textual descriptions.
[O-02-62]:
Its scale can measure any sin with absolute impartiality.
[O-01-55]:
Tears fell drop by drop, like stars plummeting from the clouds. That night, the world fell into a deep slumber, as if intoxicated by a soothing lullaby.
[F-02-49]:
I have delivered you a gift—a gift filled with endless hatred.
"A scale? Measuring sin?"
Seeing the description of the first box , X recalled Little Bird's earlier words:
—She gave her eye to Big Bird's sister, leaving herself only the scale that judges sin.
"Little Bird said she can always sense 'High Bird,' but can't determine her exact location…"
"Could it be because 'High Bird' was sealed inside an Abnormality containment box , cutting off their connection?"
While his thoughts raced, X 's hand had already followed his intuition.
Without hesitation, he selected the first Abnormality.
After that, he quickly reviewed employee assignments and E.G.O distributions.
Once everything was confirmed to be in order, the day's work officially began.
—
The screen transitioned.
The familiar, slightly cartoonish departmental visuals came into view.
This gentle art style made it easy to forget the dangers lurking beneath the surface of the work.
But X knew better. These were merely "safe visuals," filtered through cognition dampeners to protect the manager's sanity.
What he saw through the monitors and what employees faced in reality were effectively two different worlds.
Because of this, X tried his best to be as understanding as possible toward his subordinates.
And if not for his nightly excursions into the "Inner Lobotomy Corporation," he doubted he could empathize with them so deeply.
Once work began, X immediately switched his view to the Training Department—the location where the newly assigned Abnormality had been contained—to check on its status.
"…Wait."
When he clearly saw the Abnormality inside the containment unit, X froze.
It was a tall, feather-covered… humanoid Abnormality.
Its eyes were wrapped tightly in thick bandages. At the ends of its wing-like arms were clawed hands capable of grasping.
Its curved neck formed a peculiar angle, and at that angle rested an ancient brass scale.
The scale constantly tilted to one side, yet never slid or fell.
The feathers covering its body were dull and lusterless, as though they hadn't been groomed in a very long time.
Every defining feature matched Little Bird's description perfectly.
It seemed that this newly contained Abnormality was indeed the sister Little Bird had been longing for—
"High Bird."
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