There was something else glued to the box. Something you are familiar with. ...Yes, a Matrix Weaver. What? Never heard of it? A PC? What's that? O-Oh Oh! Oh, that's what it's called. A PC. That's sad, I mean, my bad, my apologies. Mmm…

Its functions are supposed to be similar, but the appearance is completely different.

The wood and brick framed interface glued to the antique looking box was already lit up, displaying the recent activities. In short... Search history!

In any of my reincarnations—if any exists—I would have overlooked it entirely, but a single word turned that impossible event possible.

Loquat?

"The fruit? Me like!" Amber added to my wonder.

I opted to explore it further and came to a realization that I should have never attempted it. Shoving the interface in the possessor's face, I demanded an explanation.

What is wrong with your head, man?! Read them!

The smallest loquats?!

The seedless loquats?!

Loquats basking in the radiation?!

Loquats timelapse?!—And only half of it has been watched?

Do loquats taste better when eaten as a bunch or one at a time?!

Is this what you do with your spare time?! You swine!

In disgust, I threw the interface with the box glued to it at T'jambi. Whether it was fate or my bad aim, the box just barely grazed him and fell through the broken floor.

"Ooo! Nigdy nie myślałem, że Senior będzie fanatykiem owoców!" Amber commented, sounding boastful.

(Ooo! Never thought Senior would be a fruit fanatic!)

Shut up, Amber! Your remarks are not improving the situation and certainly don't exonerate this scoundrel. And as dumb as it sounds, loquat is a fruit, true, but also an ex-associate, an ex-associate you replaced!

Haa… Amber, give me your box—I gestured to him with a minimal movement.

"Och! Moja skrzynka jest w konserwacji, a ja siedzę na Seniorze i na co dzień zajmuję się pracą," she– he, he replied matter-of-factly.

(Oh! My box is under maintenance, so I sit on Senior to do the work on a daily basis)

What? Since when?

"Since... day one..." said the doll with a hint of doubt.

Disbelief, you might call it, I shook my clumps as I made my way to the elevator.

Turning back one last time, I pointed the scroll at the horrendous being and declared that as soon as I'd finished with it, I'd make sure it ended up in the Event Horizon, as well as giving Amber a little reminder that she– he would be forced into rehab.

This would be the final time I laid eyes on them, I thought as I stepped onto the elevator. But color me surprised, the two of them casually strolled in after me.

I would have asked them to get off, but just looking at the mayhem behind them made me think twice. Instead, I shifted a little further away, and the collapsed wall that served as a door began to reconstruct itself, and the elevator glided toward the heart of this space fortress.

As we advanced in the direction I was facing, surrounded by a cascade of lights, there was an astonishing 16 seconds of absolute silence. The very next second, the playful trunk moved and pointed at me.

"Woooow... Buddy change' color... Blue... Green..."

That's turquoise, pea brain.

"Och! czy czerwono-zielono, czy czerwono-niebieski?!" (Oh! Is it reddish green or reddish blue?!)

I apologize for ridiculing the eyes that can only perceive the visible spectrum.

"I waant to feeel it..." the drowsy voice added.

Try it, Nefarious. Shade me if you want to puke all your insides out!

The dejected proboscis quietly retreated, and we were nearing our destination. The silence was reclaimed, and I shifted my attention to others in the distant stream of lights.

Not everyone was calm about the situation, but there sure were others who were doing their utmost to manage what they could. Like Mike, expertly directing the massive flow of traffic, and Wish, diligently overseeing his three new avatars, or me, focused on bringing the matters of this scroll to an end.

While I stood in silence, anticipating the beep that would confirm our drop-off, the pair behind me engaged in a small gab.

"Um, Senior... Box, sticky thing? I want... also... The glue! Tak(Yes)! Where, I buy...?"

"Wha' glue?"

A soft beep marked the end of their conversation, as well as the incredulity that surged through me, mingled with a sense of revulsion.

The brick door crumbled, awaiting our exit, but what passed through it was not us.

My eyes, yes, my ghostly, non-existent glass eyes, rolled out effortlessly and were quickly crushed by someone amidst the frenzy of the control center.

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The atmosphere was described as chaotic, but it's not because of the confusion, but rather because of the hectic activities.

Everyone, from the most junior to the most senior, was busy in their responsibilities, fixated on dealing with the situation, even if it meant forcing unrelated people to help.

Oh, hold on a moment. This room isn't all futuristic as you are imagining.

However, if you've managed to render it as a gothic sanctuary—with dim colored stained glass windows, soaring vaulted ceilings adorned with massive chandeliers, and watched over by eerie gargoyles in a candlelit grand hall—then good job.

Except, that much of its splendor has been marred.

"Ah, Sen! A little help here... Ple~ase," a workmate called out to me as she struggled to stabilize the teetering rack, her voice laced with amorousness.

Giving my greetings to Natalia, I waft in to assist, pushing the rack as far as possible.

"Appreciate the help... Want me to repay you in any way?" leaning over to me, murmured the tall, gorgeous–

Wait. I will not share the secrets of this enchantress. Her beauty is a treasure meant only for me alone to savor. If you are still curious to know, let me narrate her as... Unnarratable.

"Ooo... No one's ever called me that before~" she said with her beautiful voi–

Wait? What?

"Oh, he'z been doin' that a lot toda'! He call me namez too..."

"Och! Ja, ja! Nazwał mnie „piece-of-amber”! Jeśli to się liczy…"

(Oh! Me, me! He called me a 'piece of amber'! If that counts…)

A lot today? No, yours doesn't count, Amber. What do you mean by a lot, Miocenese?

Instead of an explanation, the heap of ancient fur jumped over and over. Even now. And now. And again. And–

Stop it, dammit! That's unsightly! Explain, right now!

"You really are quite chatty today, and I'm liking it... But I can't go on without knowing if you truly called me that... Or if it was just another name in the mix...? Mmm..." Natalia inquired, her curiosity piqued.

Ah! How can I possibly overlook the fact that I'm constantly speaking into void, every day, to everyone around me? Let's shut the narration to just my consciousness then.

I shoved the scroll into Amber's hands, pulled her closer and moved my collectives as if I wanted to flash a bright grin.

You wanted to pay me back, right NatNat?! Here, take this oblivious pile of amber and teach her– him your work. I will request Sir Parch Ment to move her to your area since her– his current zone doesn't need any additional help or BOXES! …So, I think she– he could be of some help. I mean, you know, learning from the best.

"Oh... 'kay..."

This wasn't on my checklist, but here's a life lesson.

Never debate a woman in doubt, skip to her second best quality——Sen Daikei.

While I'm at it, should I request Natalia for one more thing? You know what, let's just make it happen for the benefit of everyone involved.

Um, Nattie… Could you find me a dimension made of clusters of supernovas? One substantial enough to disintegrate this embodiment of evil's irrevocable sins.

Also, while it may seem like I'm just a lowly employee overstepping my bounds by requesting numerous favors, that's not the case. I've intentionally opted to work for a lower wage, all while maintaining my seniority.

I prioritize a peaceful sleep over the bountiful pockets.

Haa… As I stare at the alluring Nat, who likely did not listen to my previous request, walking away with her new Junior, a mammoth looms in my direction.

"I wouldn' mind goin' to the place tha' you asked her to find. If Amber comez along..."

What? Are you really that clueless? I thought you were playing nice and hiding evidence all along. Still, you are going to Event–

Wait... but you were keen on your nicknames?

The trunk moved slowly, trying to take my shoulder as he winked at me. There was no way I was going to let it get any closer. Trying to avoid it, I bumped into someone I failed to notice, someone I should never mess with.

Oh sh...! Fauler Anführer! But what is he doing with all that luggage? ...No way!

Realization slowly dawned on me, as he slammed his foot down in frustration because of the luggage that toppled over from my bump.

"Nein, nein, nein, nein, nein! Was schaut ihr da, ihr KBOs?! Es ist nicht schwer herauszufinden, dass jemand versucht, aus diesem beschissenen Loch herauszukommen!" Anführer exclaimed.

(No, no, no, no, no! What are you looking at, you KBOs?! It's not hard to figure out that someone's trying to get out of this shithole!)

Should I ask him to speak in English? ...Better not.

No, Anführer, you have no reason to do this. You are the next best employee after Sir Parch Ment. I know things look dire, but you will not feel the burden with all of us here... And you are being paid handsomely too…

There was no apology or excuse from me, just some sweet talk, trying to bring this man to his senses.

Meanwhile, as I was busy with Anführer, his 2.59 inch black minions—or what he affectionately calls them as younglings—were busy tidying up his messy luggage.

Brushing his hair away from his left eye, "Aber nicht hübsch genug, um…" he expressed as he leaned in closer, his hand hinting to the disarray around us.

(But not handsome enough to...)

Ahh... I can't stand him to begin with, and I don't even want to continue. Sure, his absence might bring some misfortune, but that in itself is a fortune in disguise.

My silence seemed to signal that I wasn't interested in continuing the conversation.

Straightening his uniform and pulling up his belt, "Kommt schon, Jungs. Überlassen Sie diese Quasare ihrem eigenen Untergang!" he commands his minions, as he contemptuously spat on the ground.

(Come on, younglings. Leave these quasars to their own demise!)

Following their leader, all of the marching dainties spat on the ground in unison.

Well, I don't mind it. The sound they made was quite amusing. But, I… Oh, no!

Unannounced, the roof caved in, pierced by a small turret of the fortress that came crashing down, impaling the puny gang and painting the ground black.

......Anyways.

With mixed thoughts as to whether or not to persuade the bigot nearing the elevator, I was left to choose the path that would be best for the situation.

Come on, Anführer! The next scroll might really need a great figure like you! What are you gonna do after walking away, anyway?

Without glancing back, he raises his fist and declares, "Backen Sie einen Kuchen in meinem vorgeheizten Ofen oder knallen Sie etwas Mais hinein und genießen Sie sie, während ich zusehe, wie diese staubige Festung zu Asche zerfällt!"

(Bake a cake in my preheated oven or pop some corn, and enjoy them as I watch this irredeemable dusty fortress crumble to ashes!)

The turret should have appeared a little earlier. It doesn't matter now anyway.