"By the way, your file should indeed list you as 'assistant,' right? Have they paid you yet?" Bai Ya asked with mild curiosity.

The Fate Organization rarely recruited casually. But once they did, they typically advanced two months' salary upfront, with allowances calculated separately. Thus, Yue Ge had technically shed his "unemployed" status. Of course, this didn’t change the reality that he still ate Bai Ya’s food and lived under her roof. Even if he wanted to move out, Bai Ya wouldn’t allow it.

Whether Bai Ya’s thought process was simply unconventional or she trusted Yue Ge too deeply, she never seemed to consider such issues. Su Nan had been indifferent about Bai Ya keeping Yue Ge as help—it was Bai Ya’s call, not hers. Su Nan had only objected to a man living with Bai Ya. Yet Bai Ya showed no reaction at all. No matter what Su Nan said, Bai Ya wore an expression that plainly said, "I don’t want to hear this."

In the end, Su Nan could only comfort herself with the thought that "Bai Ya is incredibly strong." Once Bai Ya decided something, it was nearly impossible to change her mind. Back then, Bai Ya hadn’t shared much with her either. Su Nan didn’t understand why Bai Ya insisted on keeping Yue Ge.

Some things were better known by fewer people. At the very least, Bai Ya had no intention of telling Su Nan. The less Su Nan knew, the lower her chances of danger—and Bai Ya would shield her from all the messy complications.

*Shenshu*… truly a grand title. Though Yue Ge hadn’t grasped its weight yet. Without that designation, Bai Ya wouldn’t dare roam the map so freely. Honestly, without High Danger Class offensive power, breaking through her defenses was laughable. High Danger Class entities were mostly held by Organizations and Forces. Barring fantastical events like monster sieges, Bai Ya rarely faced real threats.

But Yue Ge himself had never considered this. If Bai Ya’s way of thinking differed from ordinary people, Yue Ge wasn’t exactly normal either. To him, living here simply meant staying put. He rarely thought beyond that.

"Yeah, it’s been paid," Yue Ge replied. He fished the document from beside the sofa and handed it to Bai Ya without a second thought.

The tables had turned. Though Yue Ge wouldn’t volunteer information, he didn’t mind Bai Ya knowing. If she asked, he’d likely tell her. Trust wasn’t about sharing everything—it was about causing no harm. That mattered far more than mere honesty.

"It’s so brief," Bai Ya murmured after a glance. The file was nearly empty. The career history section was completely blank. The only seemingly genuine details were his name and position. Even the photo—taken days ago by Bai Ya on her tablet—was crude. Her own semi-public file was far more detailed.

"Didn’t you fill it out for me?" Yue Ge couldn’t help but point out.

"Who let you know nothing at all? I wanted to make it look decent." Bai Ya waved the document before handing it back. "I’m amazed they’d print this as an official record."

"People matter more than paperwork. It’s not like it’s meant for public display," Yue Ge said casually. He tucked it back into the corrugated box.

"That’s true," Bai Ya conceded. She scooped Little Ash from under the chair and settled the cat on her lap. "When an Organization expands beyond a certain point, it can’t run on just a handful of people. Without rules and systems, it’s just a joke. Flexibility only works within such frameworks—whether visible or not."

Yue Ge fell silent, simply watching her. Whenever Bai Ya spoke like this, he felt a strange illusion.

"What is it?" Bai Ya tilted her head slightly.

"Nothing," Yue Ge shook his head, shifting topics. "By the way, interviews like today’s won’t happen again, right?"

"Tiring?" Bai Ya’s hand paused mid-stroke on Little Ash’s head.

"Not really… just felt half-hearted," Yue Ge replied. The crow hadn’t truly fought him to the death. That level of combat was barely a warm-up for him.

"Did they say anything to you?" Bai Ya nodded knowingly. She’d anticipated this.

Yue Ge thought for a moment. "The Organization’s leader asked if I’d join the ‘Support Squad.’"

Better not to name-drop Lingkong directly—he was technically Yue Ge’s superior. Bai Ya could call him whatever she liked, but Yue Ge risking disrespect might earn him trouble later.

"And? What did you say?" Bai Ya blinked. She hadn’t expected this. Lingkong was investing heavily to recruit Yue Ge… The Support Squad wasn’t just any unit.

"I said I’d consider it…" Yue Ge noticed Bai Ya’s expression. "Is there a problem? Is this squad important?"

"Accept," Bai Ya said without immediate explanation. "It’ll benefit you."

"…Alright." Yue Ge nodded.

"The Support Squad… is Lingkong’s direct unit. The person who escorted you today belongs to it." Bai Ya lowered her gaze slightly. "They have authority to act first and report later."

"Act first and report later?" Yue Ge didn’t grasp it immediately.

"They can skip the ‘Judgment’ phase and proceed straight to ‘Execution’ for anyone two ranks below me. That’s why they handle most traitors within the Organization." Bai Ya made a slicing gesture. "Every member is Lingkong’s absolute confidant—zero risk of betrayal. Only they and Lingkong himself know the full roster. Even I don’t have the complete list."

"Then why invite me?" Yue Ge frowned slightly.

*To bypass me and give you orders directly, of course.*

Bai Ya sighed almost imperceptibly. She didn’t even notice Little Ash slipping away from her lap. Yet she’d still pushed Yue Ge to accept. Only this path would earn him the Organization’s trust and acceptance. Humanity itself existed only because necks remained bound by chains—shackled by rules.

Had Yue Ge shown rebellion or blind arrogance, Bai Ya’s assessment of him would have been simple. But his constant, chilling calmness made her ponder these things—not just for herself, but for his sake too.

"Rights and duties must balance," Bai Ya finally offered. "The squad rarely has tasks. But when emergencies arise, you’ll have to handle them. Don’t underestimate Lingkong."

"Understood," Yue Ge nodded calmly. "Should I reply to him now?"

"Go ahead," Bai Ya affirmed, saying no more.

*Is this… truly good or bad?*

Bai Ya hugged her knees silently. Unnoticed, her cup had long been empty, yet she still cradled it, her gaze distant and deep.

*Don’t disappoint me, Yue Ge… I can’t bear a second disappointment.*