Daddy!

Employment Contract Party A: Annan Doran Party B: Yaxiu Heath / Igola Bogin / Archibald Harvey Clause 1: Party A must ensure the personal safety of Party B. Clause 2: Party A must guarantee Party B eight hours of rest every day. Clause 3: Party B reserves the right to independently decide their course of action when injured. ... Clause 39: Party B reserves the right to refuse unreasonable mating demands. Provided the above clauses are observed, Party A may command Party B to perform any task, but said commands must likewise not violate the aforementioned clauses. Contract Term: 101 days. Start time: May 2, 1668, 19:15. End time: August 10, 1668, 19:15. When the three contracts dissolved into golden light and vanished into thin air, Annan, the purple-clad young woman, pressed a button, instantly deactivating the sorcery-locking collars around the necks of Yaxiu and his companions. "Welcome aboard. Let's make sure we get along well over the next hundred and one days." Annan spread her arms as though welcoming them in earnest. "I am Annan Doran, head of the Funeral Agency. You may call me Director, Miss, or Boss, though I prefer another moniker—Purple Moth. And this is my butler, Banji Michalis, who is also the agency's second member." The young butler gave them a polite, slight nod and offered several handkerchiefs. Igola took a handkerchief impassively to wipe his face, feeling a lingering frustration. Time had been far too short, and under another's roof, they had no choice but to bow their heads. Since she adamantly refused to budge on her "absolute authority," Igola could only add specific clauses to safeguard their basic rights. Besides, Annan's reasoning had been unassailable: she needed them for highly classified missions. Without securing authority over them, there was no foundation of mutual trust—how could she possibly disclose her true requirements? Yaxiu stared at his handkerchief and suddenly asked an odd question: "Is it also the year 1668 here?" "Hm?" Annan instantly caught the keyword. "'Also'?" "We come from the Blood Moon Country," Igola said, his eyes flickering. "According to the Blood Moon calendar, today is also May 2, 1668." Different realms sharing the exact same calendar was a fact that immediately hinted at ancient secrets, so everyone tacitly let the topic drop into silence. "Actually, there's another thing I've wanted to ask for a long time," Yaxiu chimed in. "If we're from completely different realms, why do we speak the same language, and why do our written characters share the same origins?" At this, everyone shot Yaxiu rather peculiar looks. Annan asked with tactful diplomacy, "It seems the Blood Moon Country is quite barbaric. Has basic education truly not been popularized there yet?" "I won't dispute your first point, but he really did slip through the cracks of basic education," Igola sighed. "Please don't extrapolate his individual ignorance to all Blood Moon citizens." Yaxiu remained utterly baffled. At that moment, the Red Hat, Cleios, walked over to clear up his confusion. "The earliest written characters originated from the names of sorcery spirits. Once a sorcerer completely masters a sorcery spirit, they learn its true name and pronunciation. That's why, in any realm dominated by sorcerers, language and pronunciation are largely identical." Annan added, "The characters you couldn't read earlier are essentially 'extended characters' that have never become the names of sorcery spirits. If I remember correctly, the number of extended characters decreases every year, gradually replaced by the 'root characters' of newly discovered spirits." "So this world actually has a foundational set of root characters?" Yaxiu said, enlightened. "Then who created those root characters...?" "An excellent question. Every generation of sorcerers has sought to pull back the veil on sorcery spirits. The fact that you're curious means you will help advance this grand cause as well," Annan encouraged him warmly. "As long as you follow my orders over these hundred and one days, you will not only gain your freedom afterward, but you might even possess the power to uncover the truth. I won't treat you unfairly." The key to painting grand visions was improvising on the fly. On that count, this agency director truly had a knack for exploitation, though her heart didn't seem ruthless enough. It seemed slacking off under her watch would be remarkably easy... Yaxiu swiftly evaluated his new boss's qualities. Just then, Cleios turned to Annan and asked, "Annan, did you say earlier that you only picked up three outlanders using the Book of Gospel?" "Yes. Why?" "Besides the three of them, we found another outlander." While the group stared in surprise, another Red Hat led over a white-haired little girl. Yaxiu and the others recognized her immediately—she was the calm little drama queen from the sacrificial ritual who hadn't shed a tear or raised a fuss. With her head bowed, the little actress clutched the hem of her clothes, timidly peeking up at Annan. Her large eyes were filled with terror, like a shivering little lamb, making it nearly impossible not to feel pity for her. Annan's tone instantly melted into something as sweet as ice cream. "Good girl, let Big Sister see if your ears are hurt." She checked behind the little girl's ears. There was no countdown, but since Cleios had claimed it, it couldn't be false. Annan performed a brief query through the Book of Gospel and quickly confirmed that the child was beyond doubt an outlander. Because she couldn't find any record of the girl's past! Only for people who had never lived in the Gospel Country would the Book of Gospel return a complete blank on their history! "Sweetie, can you tell Big Sister why you're here? Where do your parents live? I can take you back to them." The white-haired little girl looked at her timidly and shook her head. "I... I don't know... The bad guys took me here..." "Then where were you before the bad guys took you? What were you doing?" "I don't know... I forgot..." She shook her head in distress. "I can't remember anything." Annan neither believed nor doubted her words outright; instead, she opened the Book of Gospel and spent points to run an inquiry. The Book of Gospel concluded that the girl was telling the truth. She genuinely had lost her memories! "She might have suffered an accident while crossing through the Void Realm passage or when she was captured by the cultists, resulting in amnesia." Annan looked over at Yaxiu and his companions. "Answer me: did you see her before coming to the Gospel Country?" "No," the three replied in unison. Before Yaxiu's mind could even register the question, his mouth had already blurted out the answer. Igola's expression shifted slightly. Even though this was an overt display of authority meant to intimidate, it was undeniably effective. Annan's control over them was far more direct and absolute than anticipated. "Have you checked her body?" "There are no traces of miracles or sorcery spirits," Cleios said. "In theory, she shouldn't pose any threat, but..." Annan understood Cleios's concern. Stowaways like Yaxiu's trio, who had burned all their bridges, were manageable enough, but an outlander of unknown origin like this white-haired little girl was a dangerous ticking bomb. Under normal circumstances, Annan would have recommended letting the child sleep peacefully forever. After all, even if they spared her, what household would take in an outlander child? Yet Annan happened to need outlanders, and a child was far more pliable and ideal for her needs than grown adults. After a moment's thought, she asked, "Do you still remember your name?" After a brief pause, the white-haired little girl said, "Lisi. My name is Lisi." "Annan," Cleios couldn't help but interject, "contracts signed by minors have no legal effect whatsoever." "It's merely that weave-paper doesn't recognize the validity of a minor's signature, but a fundamental Void Realm contract doesn't care about age." Annan extended a hand toward the little girl. "Shake on it." Yet the little girl took a fearful step backward, as though Annan's palm hid needles. The lovely Purple Moth narrowed her eyes slightly, her smile turning increasingly radiant. "What's the matter? You don't want to shake Big Sister's hand? As long as you shake my hand, Big Sister will take care of you, buy you pretty clothes, treat you to delicious snacks, and tell you bedtime stories to tuck you in at night~" Igola watched coldly from the side. Although this woman named Annan was slightly unpolished in her methods, she was ruthlessly decisive to the bone. First, she had sold them to the Four Pillar Cult, then colluded with the Red Hats to raid the cult and rescue them, followed by having the Red Hats threaten them, only to step in herself as their savior... It was a breathless rollercoaster of twists and turns. Any outlander already groggy from disorientation would have had their brains turned into a bowl of Lalafell paste by such a dizzying sequence of events, leaving them unable to form an accurate judgment. Seeing that Annan, the very person who had trafficked them, was now willing to rescue them from mortal danger, one could easily fall prey to a victim's mindset, moved to tears by the perpetrator's gentle care, and end up signing a humiliating slave contract. Fortunately, the three of them were hardened villains who had clawed their way out of the filthiest gutters. Even when far from their peak condition, seeing through such elementary cons was practically a survival instinct—even Yaxiu hadn't taken the bait. Her plan had failed, but that didn't mean Annan was incompetent. The fact that she could quickly regain her composure, negotiate with Igola, and even make concessions just to seal the deal swiftly earned Igola's respect. Ambitious without being greedy, unburdened by sunk costs, never holding out for unattainable ideals, and capable of making optimal choices at any moment—she met all the criteria of a perfect rational actor. That was why Igola knew that if they hadn't signed the contract, Annan would never have let them walk away. Judging others by his own standards, if Igola couldn't secure a scarce resource, he would rather destroy it than let it slip through his fingers. By that same token, if this little girl named Lisi refused Annan's invitation, Annan would cease treating her like an adorable child and view her purely as a scarce resource. One could be gentle with a sweet child, but when dealing with a scarce resource, only optimal choices mattered. As if sensing the looming danger, the white-haired little girl shrank back even further, her little mouth pouting aggrievedly as tears welled in her eyes. She looked around the room, let out a loud wail, and threw herself toward one of them— "Daddy!"