Check out my new translation!
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"Come on, trash can. You lie on that shelf all day doing nothing—you must understand my feelings. Free me from the shackles of work! Let me eat, slack, and wait for death in peace!"
Muttering what was effectively emotional blackmail toward an inanimate object, Qingque attempted to flirt with the trash can into fulfilling her wish.
She lifted her hand and opened the second trash can.
A beam of light shot out. But when that regal color hit Qingque's pupils, she felt as if her heart had been seized—hard—by her supervisor's merciless hand.
Her breath caught. Her chest tightened.
"H-how… how could this happen?!"
Qingque grabbed her head and screamed.
Because the light from the trash can was purple.
No doubt: a high-grade Curio coveted by all.
If she brought it to auction, people would fight to the death for it. But in Qingque's eyes, it wasn't a blessing—it was a death sentence.
It was over. Completely over. Her position would solidify even further; Lady Fu Xuan would never let her go now!
Tearfully awaiting the fading of the light, she noticed—nothing appeared.
A tiny spark of hope bloomed in her heart.
Maybe she mis-saw it because her brain was fried?
O Reignbow Arbiter, please, please let it be my brain malfunctioning!
Sylvester couldn't hear her thoughts, otherwise he might've muttered: "Never heard anyone pray for that before. But if the Reignbow Arbiter actually used physical force to grant your wish… being worked to death might honestly be better."
Still, he had no mind-reading skills.
Sylvester congratulated, "Qingque, your luck's pretty great. One purple pull out of three already puts you above eighty percent of customers. You won't find anything in the can now—the Curio has already merged with you."
Hearing this, Qingque's heart went ice cold. "Huh? I—so it works like that?"
Her shattered dreams already hurt enough; now it was directly bonded to her.
She pouted. "So, I can't even sell it…"
If it were something like General Feixiao, she could've secretly sold it before her supervisor found out.
But now? What—sell herself?
Even if she did, the buyer might very well be her supervisor.
Sylvester squinted, helpless. "All this just to slack off? You're really ruthless."
He'd never seen anyone actually consider selling a purple Curio. Even that idiotic cookbook Pepper Hill pulled still sat properly collecting dust in her storage box.
"You pulled a Curio called [Geass]."
"What—what? Chicken-duck-death?"
Qingque repeated the unfamiliar word incorrectly, frowning. "So, it's a poultry-specialized Curio?"
"It's ghee-oss," Sylvester corrected. "Originally meaning oath or compulsion. Some call it the [Power of Kings]."
He explained its origin step by step. "In another world, this power is obtained by forming a contract with an immortal being possessing the Code. When activated, one eye manifests a red bird shadow. Each person only gets one ability. You can't pick it, and everyone's is different."
He paused, voice turning solemn.
"But it has one massive advantage: there is no cost to use it. And its power has virtually no upper limit."
"The only way to strengthen it is to use it. Over and over. The more you use it, the stronger it gets—until eventually, it can't be turned off, becoming a passive skill."
"And… my ability is?" Qingque asked weakly.
At this point she could only accept her fate. Hopefully it wasn't too powerful…
"Unfortunately, your [Geass] has no combat value."
A strange smile curled on Sylvester's lips.
"It boosts your brain's computational speed and memory retention."
He couldn't hold back his grin anymore, laughing outright.
"Use it, and your processing speed goes up. Your memory grows stronger. Your brain expands—without any negative side effects from overclocking. Train enough, and you could calculate faster than the Erudition themselves!"
"Well? Surprised? Shocked? Isn't it perfect? It basically lets you finish work early through sheer brainpower."
Watching Qingque's expression shift—from shock, to confusion, to paling horror—
Sylvester stepped out from behind the counter and patted her shoulder.
"See? You're lucky. Wish granted. Cheer up."
Cheer… up?
Qingque slowly turned her head, stiff as a robot.
Believe it or not, I will cry. Right here.
With this ability, wouldn't she become more and more efficient the more she used it? Wouldn't Lady Fu Xuan milk her for labor until she died?!
What kind of supervisor just praises you warmly for finishing work early?!
No—supervisors pounced the moment they smelled increased productivity. Like wolves spotting prey.
A metaphor. A metaphor! I would never disrespect the only shining light of the Divination Commission!
But still—this ability guaranteed her workload would multiply. She'd become the Commission's number one workhorse.
Even she had to admit it: this brain was simply a natural-born beast-of-burden constitution.
What kind of ability grows without cost the more you use it? How morally bankrupt!
Sylvester comforted, "Look on the bright side—you'll get lots of training."
"That's exactly what those heartless fiends at the Interastral Peace Corporation say."
Qingque scoffed.
After long thought, she added, "Hey—what if we hide this whole thing? Pretend I never came today?"
Sylvester raised a brow. "You planning to owe me a third favor?"
"And what about the sales record? You're a Records Officer. Planning to falsify documents?"
Qingque's eyes lit up. Suddenly smiling through fading tears, she pointed a finger dramatically at him.
"Ah! You're right! Brilliant idea! Why didn't I think of that earlier?! Let's do that!"
"Out, out, out." Sylvester waved her away. "Trying to drag me down with you? I run an honest business, pay my taxes, and never scam anyone."
Straight-faced, completely shameless, he took a sip of tea and added, "If you ask me, your best hope is in the last trash can."
"At this point, what could the last one possibly do?"
Qingque looked at herself miserably, her mouth practically puckered to the ceiling.
Sylvester was impressed.
You're acting like the [Geass] is a negative debuff?
He sipped tea without comment.
Seeing he wouldn't help, Qingque gritted her teeth, turned toward the final can, and muttered, "Well… might as well try."
Thinking of her future, she lifted the last trash can as though lifting her own coffin.
Her hands trembled. She traced the rim gently, afraid to open it.
After a long breath, she steeled her heart, as if charging into death with courage.
"Alright! All or nothing!"
With a rattling clack, the final trash can was opened.
Qingque immediately covered her eyes like someone drawing the last winning tile, too afraid to look.
When the glow faded and she felt something in her hands, she slowly opened one eye.
"A… scroll?"
"Tch." Sylvester set down his tea, giving her a slow, up-and-down look, his brows tight with reluctant admiration. "Your luck is ridiculous. Only three cans, and you actually manifested your wish? This is basically pulling a legendary on a single pull."