Chapter Eight: The Toast That Bites Back

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Putting aside combat power indices, Zheng Fan mainly intended to focus on testing what kind of abilities he could harness using those black beads he had. This was more interesting. The beads obtained early on from the subdued corpses had actually been used quite early; the subsequent beads were acquired from various strange places. In any case, these beads currently seemed to be his exclusive power units, and Zheng Fan figured no one else wanted them anyway.

Lin Yilin quietly went about her own business, seemingly undisturbed by whatever Zheng Fan was doing nearby. That was until Zheng Fan, out of curiosity, peeked at the computer screen in front of her.

“Public commission website of the Processing Bureau,” Zheng Fan read aloud the site’s name.

“That’s also how the agency picks up jobs, or rather, it’s the mainstream method most of the time,” Lin Yilin explained casually.

“How can small agencies compete with the big ones on these so-called public listings?” Zheng Fan asked, intrigued.

“Large agencies naturally prefer higher-paying major commissions, and competitive commissions require the applicant’s and manager’s names to be filled out first. Members of agencies, big or small, are mostly registered with the Processing Bureau, so those with the right qualifications and needs can be carefully selected,” she answered.

“Personal reputation and the agency’s reputation both matter a lot,” Zheng Fan commented.

“Exactly. My foster father was the type who never expanded the agency much, but had considerable personal influence. I hope to become someone like him.”

“Sounds impressive but also exhausting and troublesome. Are you short on money?”

“Hm? Not at all.”

Lin Yilin looked at Zheng Fan oddly, as if wondering why he would ask such a question.

“My foster father left me his inheritance—he saved a huge fortune over his lifetime and wasn’t a big consumer. The inheritance is stored at the Metropolitan Central Bank, and just living off the interest alone would allow me to enjoy life comfortably for the rest of my days.”

She calculated briefly: “I just bought a house in the neighboring school district.”

The metropolitan school districts were part of the White Peace world, used for education, gathering numerous schools from primary to university levels. Housing prices in the peaceful zones of the metropolis were hardly cheap.

Well, this girl turned out to be a little wealthy.

She could easily settle down in the peaceful zone and live comfortably for the rest of her life, yet she insisted on working in a gray zone agency, dealing with dangerous matters.

At first glance, she seemed like a fearless hothead, but after spending some time together, Lin Yilin did not give Zheng Fan the impression of a reckless youngster ignorant of the world.

Curious, Zheng Fan asked directly.

Lin Yilin thought for a moment: “Interest, I guess. I simply like doing this. I started assisting my foster father back in high school, and now it’s become habit.”

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While they were talking, Lin Yilin suddenly moved the mouse swiftly, clicked repeatedly, and typed in the password all in one go.

Zheng Fan: ?

What just happened?

“We’ve got work again, Mr. Illusion,” Lin Yilin said with a slight smile at the corner of her mouth. She wasn’t entirely expressionless, just kept a low profile emotionally.

Zheng Fan snapped out of it. “What kind of job?”

“Probably just a small matter, but this is the time to accumulate experience. This commission shouldn’t be dangerous,” Lin Yilin shifted slightly to let Zheng Fan see the details.

The commission was naturally about an urban legend of “biting toast bread” recently appearing on Xixi Keke Street, near Dongting Road.

The initial reports came from homeless people.

There was a bakery on Dongting Road; unsold goods at the end of the day were regularly left at a fixed spot for the local homeless to feed on. One day, a homeless person found a large, untouched slice of toast abandoned in a corner.

Happy to have found a free meal, he reached out to pick it up, intending to eat it immediately.

But the one who bit first was not the toast, but the homeless man himself.

The toast in his hand bit him back.

Blood was drawn in one bite, and the toast fled while the homeless man was startled by the pain.

Such incidents happened many times over two weeks. Although no fatalities occurred, the homeless were miserable. Finding a piece of bread was not easy for them.

Indeed, there is no free lunch, and no perfectly formed toast would be abandoned on the street for no reason.

Naturally, the voices of the homeless were almost nonexistent in the metropolis. Even the police sometimes do not pass on numerous unresolved suspected supernatural cases to the Processing Bureau, let alone the homeless.

This matter was reported because a family from the ring district was passing through Xixi Keke Street with a child who, out of innocence, picked up something from the ground to eat.

That led to the “naughty” toast biting the child viciously, nearly severing a finger.

The family, outraged, paid the authorities to commission an investigation.

The police might not always initiate cases, but paying money guarantees one.

The Processing Bureau was very reliable.

After reviewing the commission details, Zheng Fan fell silent for a moment and said, “Compared to other commissions, the payment is not low. Also, since it involves a family from the ring district, successfully handling it could boost reputation.”

“Correct. Mr. Illusion, you think fast; you seem to be a high-quality assistant,” Lin Yilin said, taking a sip from her cartoon earthworm-patterned cup.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Zheng Fan narrowed his eyes.

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Lin Yilin shrugged and said no more.

“Commissions that involve searching for a target rather than resolving an incident are synchronous competitive commissions, first come, first served. We will have rival agencies competing. From what’s known, the target is aggressive, but since it couldn’t even bite off a child’s finger, the danger level isn’t high,” she said, standing up and putting on a large coat.

“Is this considered an illusion?” Zheng Fan asked.

“No, it’s classified as a derivative of illusions, officially called a ‘fantasy object,’ so it can exist normally in reality and be seen and touched by everyone. Furthermore, these fantasy objects often possess strange powers, some rivaling those of illusions,” Lin Yilin explained quickly before murmuring, “Very urgent, very urgent,” and hurried out.

Zheng Fan stayed alone for a while, not following immediately.

He stared at the glowing screen, examining the fuzzy image of the commission target.

A golden slice of toast, with the most perfect outline imaginable by ordinary people. Although its significance was unclear, it somehow felt meaningful.

Even the folds on its surface looked pleasing; unless someone was indifferent to toast, anyone with an appetite would find it hard not to want to take a bite.

Truly a handsome piece of toast.

It made him hungry just to look at it.

But that wasn’t important.

At this point, this thing had actually been created during Zheng Fan’s previous time as a drifter, which was kind of embarrassing to admit.

The first black bead he got from a subdued person accidentally caused a small change to the toast on a bakery’s shelf.

Originally, Zheng Fan was just habitually touching things to see what he could interact with.

Most of his physiological reactions seemed to have vanished—he didn’t eat, drink, or sleep, and it didn’t affect him—but he still retained the desire to enjoy delicious food.

When he tried to eat the toast, the mutated slice jumped up and bit him back.

Then, to Zheng Fan’s stunned eyes, it wagged its “butt” and ran away...

That was the true origin of the “biting toast.”

By the way, Zheng Fan was actually quite eager to find it.

Once found, he planned to bite back fiercely. He didn’t care about dog-eat-dog conflicts—after all, he was biting a piece of toast.