Chapter 347: Good Evening, Boss!

The wealthy elite ultimately reached their investment agreements, thoroughly satisfied.

Even in the banquet’s final moments, they were still grumbling that Dr. Pandora Douglas had excused herself far too early, leaving them no time to deepen their acquaintance.

They heaped praise upon Dr. Pandora’s brilliance and generosity.

They looked forward to that so-called “reverse-aging technology,” to an extended, more enduring youth.

Some were already calculating how, once the elixir officially hit the market, they would secure a supply for their entire families.

They would never know what kind of price must be paid to achieve the effects of the “Fountain of Youth.”

Of course, for the cleanup squad, this was no bad thing.

With such immense financial backing secured, the cleanup squad could now, without question, efficiently acquire all manner of basic resources.

At the same time, with the assistance of these wealthy individuals, handling certain matters and obtaining intelligence would become far more convenient.

A single phone call could now resolve problems that once took days to untangle.

In this way, the cleanup squad’s operational efficiency could accelerate considerably.

And Pandora’s own work would likewise receive far better support.

The squad leader swept her gaze across the kitchen.

Betty had already completed most of the dismemberment.

The bear’s remains had been sorted and arranged by category across different sections of the floor.

The other members were attending to their respective duties, gradually restoring the wrecked kitchen to its original state.

“Everyone has done well. Leave no unnecessary traces behind.”

“Our work requires a flawless finish.”

“Do not let our superiors look down upon us.”

The squad nodded in acknowledgment, their movements quickening further.

The kitchen lights still blazed bright, illuminating the floor as it was slowly restored.

And over in the banquet hall, the final jazz piece was drawing to a close.

………………

Two in the morning.

On one floor of the office tower, the lights were stark and pallid.

The glow seeped from the fluorescent tubes overhead—uniform, cold, devoid of warmth.

In the expansive laboratory, instruments and equipment stood arrayed in silence, their metallic surfaces reflecting the hard, chilly light.

A young man in a white lab coat, his face etched with exhaustion, sat before a workbench, staring blankly at a slide beneath the microscope.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

His eyelids fought against his will, drooping once, twice—and on the third time, they nearly sealed shut.

He shook his head violently, forcing himself to refocus his vision, but the sludge in his brain only thickened.

Tonight was his turn on the night shift.

Before leaving, his superior had specifically warned him: a figure of immense importance to the laboratory might come to inspect it tonight.

The exact words were: “That’s the big boss at the very top. Pull yourself together! Clean the lab, organize what needs organizing, archive what needs archiving—don’t embarrass us in front of them!”

He had thumped his chest and sworn he would.

But... what time was it now?

He lifted his wrist and glanced at his watch.

One fifty-three.

At this hour, even the most dedicated capitalist was surely tucked in bed, no?

Or perhaps the big boss had simply made a casual remark. An inspection—wasn’t that just a polite formality?

After all, someone at that level had a schedule more packed than a year’s worth of his experimental data. How could they possibly find the leisure to visit some remote laboratory at two in the morning?

The young man yawned, preparing to prop his chin on his hand and doze for a moment.

Just a moment. Five minutes. Surely no one would—

Just then, a faint sound came from the end of the corridor.

It was the creak of the freight elevator’s iron gate slowly pulling open as it docked.

In the dead silence of the early morning, that sound was sharp as a needle, piercing straight through his groggy mind.

The young man jolted as if electrocuted! His drowsiness vanished in an instant, as though someone had doused him with a bucket of ice water.

He scrambled to his feet, nearly toppling the microscope before catching it just in time. He hastily straightened his rumpled lab coat and hurried toward the laboratory entrance.

The glass door swung open.

The first thing to meet his eyes was a short, stout middle-aged man.

He wore a sharply tailored dark suit, his tie knotted impeccably, his hair neatly combed, his leather shoes gleaming.

Though his stature was unremarkable, the shrewdness and authority forged over decades in the business world radiated from him almost palpably.

It was something accumulated over years of issuing commands to subordinates, of crushing opponents across the negotiating table—a natural culmination.

That bearing, that appearance—he fit the young man’s image of “the big boss at the very top” perfectly.

Without hesitation, the young man’s face broke into a broad smile. He walked straight up to him and blurted out:

“Good evening, Boss! You’re finally here. I’m—”

To his surprise, before he could finish, the middle-aged man’s expression shifted.

The change was as swift as flipping a page.

The restrained composure from moments before was instantly replaced by something ferocious. That glare—like a crocodile whose territory had been trespassed upon—was so savage it made the young man instinctively retreat half a step.

His words cut off abruptly, lodged in his throat.

Then, just as quickly, the middle-aged man reined in his fury, as if nothing had happened.

He stepped aside, dipped his head slightly, and assumed an extraordinarily deferential posture, clearing the way for the person behind him.

The young man froze.

He saw her now—the person he had subconsciously overlooked.

It was a young woman in a white lab coat.

The coat was nothing like the cheap, rumpled thing he wore. It was tailored to fit, the fabric fine and dense.

But what he could not tear his gaze from was the person wearing it.

Her features were pale and exquisite, her face faintly bearing an aristocratic air, yet she was impossibly young. She looked like a student who had just stepped out of a private high school.

Her hand held another girl’s—slightly shorter, hiding at her side, timid, like a frightened small animal.

The young man’s heart clenched.

Boss? Could it be... this high schooler?

No. Impossible.

Countless thoughts flashed through his mind, but in the next instant—

“What are you standing there for?”

The girl’s voice came through. Her tone was indifferent. Soft, yet carrying a certain oppressive weight.

“Lead the way. Let me see your results.”

The young man jolted, and it hit him all at once: what was he still doubting? The deference the stout middle-aged man showed her was no act. She was the big boss!

He hurried forward, ready to guide her, but at that very moment—

Uncontrollably, he let out a massive yawn.

“Hwaah—”

The yawn came on with irresistible force, impossible to suppress, stretching his jaw wide, squeezing tears from the corners of his eyes, twisting his whole face into a ridiculous expression.

“Are you really that tired?”

The girl’s voice came again. The excessively flat tone seemed to carry some kind of magic.

The young man was so mortified he wished he could burrow into the floor, wished he could stuff that yawn back down his throat.

But in the blink of an eye, a thick stack of something appeared before him.