Taking off the gloves, her fingers were still slender and fair, showing no trace of having been wet.
X's reason for wearing gloves was very simple: she simply didn't want her hands to be wet by what could be Enkephalin or coolant. Additionally, she had a slight fastidiousness and didn't want direct physical contact, which would make her feel strange.
But this condition was very, very mild compared to others with cleanliness obsessions, especially the Information Department Dean, Yesod. It wouldn't affect her daily functioning or drive X insane.
Or perhaps… compared to being unwilling to be touched by others, she would rather actively help resolve the issue herself.
As for whether it was Enkephalin or coolant fluid, X wasn't particularly keen on investigating its composition.
"Resolve the issue yourself next time, Hod. Just this once."
Although she knew her hands weren't stained with coolant or other substances, after taking off her gloves, X still unconsciously wiped her clothes, making a motion to wipe away the liquid.
Still recovering, the Training Department Dean, immersed in the sudden sweetness, didn't notice such small details. She hadn't been happy for a long time, nor had she felt so relaxed for a long time.
Desire is truly intoxicating. Appropriately expressing desire significantly reduces one's own pressure.
"Manager..."
Whispering softly, sweet and syrupy, thick and cloying like caramelized sugar. Honey is like that, sickeningly sweet, intoxicatingly sweet. Mead, made from honey, is rich and mellow.
X didn't feel any joy; hearing that sound only made her slightly fearful. However, she didn't show it, merely nodding slightly, stroking the Training Department Dean's hair, indicating she was listening.
Like before, she began to adjust the Dean's clothing and carefully comb her hair. Long hair was always harder to manage than short hair; if not properly cared for, it would become messy like a broom or seaweed.
Fortunately, the AI's simulation created realistic hair that wouldn't split or knot; the hair quality was excellent and always smooth when combed.
The Training Department Dean's cowlick remained stubbornly upright; no matter how much X tried to flatten it, it wouldn't budge. Like Angela's bangs, it was a constant identifier.
"Can you stay with me a little longer…Manager."
Dean Hod closed her eyes, enjoying X's caresses in her embrace, the feeling of being submerged rippling like waves on a lake's surface, endlessly swirling.
"I'm sorry, I really must go, Hod."
X checks the time. Seconds tick by, giving X a strange feeling, like how much longer she has to live, counting the days in this Corporation, each day so difficult to get through.
There are many Deans with peculiar personalities and a demanding, critical AI Secretary. This is even harder to deal with than managing Abnormalities, because X cannot be sure what the AI, who sweetly spoke her name a second ago, will do the next second.
Punishment…urging…or being treated like some kind of puppet?
She'd rather be working, going to work, than dealing with those complicated and twisted interpersonal relationships, but she has no choice.
If seeing the Dean's expression the first time was somewhat bewildering, the second time, she had adapted a bit to these feelings. This wasn't something difficult to address, nor was there a need for excessive panic... adding more psychological pressure and anxiety to herself.
But X knows this principle, telling herself this, yet those unusual emotions still inevitably arise.
X carefully removes the Training Department Dean's hand from her wrist, readjusts her posture, and prepares to stand and leave. She shows no reluctance or lingering enjoyment.
This is normal; touch provides only tactile sensation, not other feelings. Moreover, she has no interest in the Dean, so no sense of inner satisfaction arises.
Even if the bitter alcohol brought her a slight buzz, her rationality still tells her that... perhaps Hod isn't her type?
Thinking this, X dismisses the extraneous thought.
—This is just helping the Dean solve her problem, nothing more.
Merely helping those Deans who need help, not something she genuinely wants to do… Helping the Deans, being responsible for her subordinates, is the Manager's duty, and she is simply fulfilling her responsibilities and obligations as a Manager.
However, as X just stood up and put on her white robe, the hem was pulled. It was Dean Hod holding her clothes, her azure eyes gazing up at her…her pupils seemed to hold a certain expectation.
"Manager, you'll come again tomorrow, right?"
Due to X's height, Dean Hod, sitting on the sofa, had to look up at her…In fact, the Training Department Dean was enveloped in X's rising shadow.
Perhaps it offers a strong sense of security. X, in both appearance and demeanor, is the type that can provide women with a sense of security, which doesn't align with her usual docile, quail-like personality.
She appears resilient, aloof, and very trustworthy, albeit somewhat distant.
"Of course, if I have time, I will definitely come to stay with Hod."
"Remember to tell me if there's anything I can help with. I'll do my best."
X smiles, responding to her Dean with a warm smile…if you ignore the hypothetical wording.
When the word "if" appears, it usually indicates uncertainty, a desire to refuse without being too blunt and hurting others, so it's used to brush people off subtly.
Heavy leather boot heels click crisply on the metal floor, footsteps receding. She is unlikely to turn back.
As soon as she's out of the Dean's sight, X begins incessantly wiping her forehead, where no cold sweat exists. The previous faint dizziness has long since vanished, leaving only extreme nervous tension.
Then… she instinctively opens the simulator, checking the Favorability column.
Unsurprisingly, the Trustworthiness column for Control Department Dean Hod shows [???]. Three question marks don't mean anything, but X knows this isn't a [Heavily Dependent] issue.
She did the same thing with Safety Department Dean Netzach, and the [Heavily Dependent] column didn't change. Why is the Training Department Dean's display so severe… Is it because she's more fragile, or perhaps more in need of comfort from others?
X wonders, but with such limited data, finding the reason is difficult. She doesn't understand why the Dean changed like this.
She truly struggles to grasp it, finding it hard to empathize. Perhaps she's naturally indifferent, or maybe it's a slow-wittedness that cannot be helped...
Maybe a hot shower and crawling under the covers to sleep will fix it…? That would be best.
X prays that everything will return to normal, as if nothing happened.
The silence in the corridor is broken only by X's footsteps, echoing dully.
"I'm back, Angela."
X is very uneasy. Only when her hand is in her pocket, clutching the black recorder, does she feel a slight surge of strength, a flicker of security.
—Nothing to fear, stay calm, X.
—This is just your Secretary; you have her weakness in your hand.
Angela will definitely be obedient…right?
X dimly senses she's made a mistake, that she's upset the AI. This could be attributed to intuition, or perhaps the old, flickering antenna on the TV is finally picking up a signal erratically.
She returns with a lack of energy, looking around, searching for the AI Secretary.
Scanning the room, she sees only the bright screen, not the Secretary. X sighs in relief, but as her foot crosses the threshold, a voice abruptly rings in her ear.
[Manager, what are you looking for? Are you looking for me?]
"Ahhh—!"
The Abnormalities didn't startle X, nor did the red blood and body parts in the corridor, or the chaotic noise with its piercing gunfire. What truly startled her was the AI, hiding by the door, exactly in her blind spot.
The AI fortunately witnessed the black-haired woman jump back in fright. Those with a guilty conscience are always easier to startle.
"Why—Angela, don't do that so suddenly."
Even knowing that there was nothing else in the Manager's office besides the AI, being startled and having a hand placed on her shoulder by a sudden shadow was still enough to make her jump.
Just like on her first day when the Secretary startled her into trembling, X was startled into trembling by the Secretary again today. The only difference between this time and the last was that this time it was due to a guilty conscience.
Although X herself didn't know why she felt so guilty.
[Manager, dinner is prepared according to your request. Would you like to eat?]
The AI Secretary closes her eyes, her expression calm. She seems to completely ignore X's obvious abnormality, skipping directly over potentially sensitive topics.
"No, no, I want to go straight to sleep, Angela. I'm so sleepy."
X rarely refuses. She doesn't have the energy to eat dinner now; she only wants to lie down on her soft bed and sleep.
Despite the disturbance and being startled by her AI Secretary, the dizziness has long since vanished—
The feeling of sleepiness is still undeniable. She was temporarily awake due to tension, but now, feeling safe, after calming down, she feels exhausted.
The effects of alcohol are still lingering on X. Her mind isn't completely clear, or perhaps it only appears clear but is actually a muddled mess, full of bugs, yet surprisingly still able to run the program.
[Are you sure, Manager? For dinner, I prepared steamed salted fragrant fish and King Crab Imperial.]
Hearing the names of a few dishes, X felt her stomach rumble. Even knowing the AI was trying to tempt her, she couldn't resist her desires and instinctively nodded.
"Okay, then I'll eat before sleeping. No acting up, Angela, I still have the item."
The black recorder reassured her. The AI's weakness was her leverage to command it. Regarding the AI's prepared feast, X felt she could look forward to it.
[Of course, it is my pleasure to serve you, Manager.]
See? Even the tone is much better. Normally she'd do whatever she wanted, bully the Secretary, but now the attitude is much more respectful. This all relies on having the 'weakness' in hand.
X was more certain that she was finally showing the Manager's proper authority, and the AI Secretary was also acting as a Secretary should.
Indeed, the food on the table today was exceptionally lavish. These were dishes X had mentioned wanting to eat, things she'd noted from cookbooks. The AI had paid close attention, recording even X's offhand mentions.
Today's main dish was King Crab with Cheese. A King Crab much larger than a soccer ball had been prepared. The legs and claws were opened using a method that split the shell in half; one half was removed, the other half contained the intact crab meat.
The legs and claws were cooked in various ways, likely tailored to X's taste: boiled, steamed, and fried. The rich crab roe and meat were kept in the shell, topped with thick cheese, and baked to become the cheese crab.
The crab meat was plump, absolutely satisfying with the first bite—
The natural way to eat is to start with the plain parts, then move on to the seasoned crab meat. First, enjoy the crab meat's inherent sweetness, then savor the unique flavors from different seasonings.
The boiled crab meat is tender and smooth, with the inherent freshness and natural saltiness of seafood, plus the chilling effect, making it extremely refreshing. Steaming lacks that chill and adds warmth, allowing the texture of the crab meat to be more evident.
The fried crab claws are coated in a thin batter, crispy on the outside and tender and delicious inside. Dipped in sweet chili sauce, they greatly enhance the appetite.
The ingredients themselves are excellent; no matter how they are prepared, they are delicious. However, such suitable preparation can always achieve a synergy greater than 1+1, completely conquering the eater's taste buds.
The rich cheese fragrance combines perfectly with the crab meat. The crab roe is distinctly granular, with its unique flavor further enhanced by the creamy aroma, perfectly illustrating the essence of delicious, fatty crab.
This is likely so delicious that you could lick the plate clean.
X licks the cheese from her hands, not at all concerned about appearances, while the AI waiting nearby observes.
The gloves are on the table, but X doesn't wear them while eating, choosing a less refined approach. After finishing, the AI Secretary wipes away grease and sauce with a napkin.
While clearing the table, the AI retrieves the disposable gloves.
[Good night, Manager. The hot water is ready for you. Please rest early.]
As if not wishing to disturb X further, the AI collects the dishes and leaves.
Angela is unusually obedient today. X feels having the AI's weakness in hand is truly useful.
Day 9, ended.