Instinct and pleasure must be reined in.
Otherwise, what separates us from beasts?
...Or perhaps—this really is exhilarating.
...
...
Ordinarily, a bit of playful teasing toward a Manager is permissible. But take it too far, and that embarrassment will curdle into anger. Just like a spring wound to its limit, once it snaps, it rebounds—hard. An inverted kind of extremity, triggering a stress response.
"An—ge—la! If you keep this up, I'm going to get angry! You're disrupting my work!"
X tried to sound threatening, like a lioness baring her fangs.But the fresh hickeys dotting her neck seriously undercut the effect.The Secretary, unsurprisingly, had left her mark again.
Though the reddish traces vanished every day, the AI dutifully replaced them with new ones, like some form of wordless declaration:
This belongs to me.
Just like shepherds branding their lambs—leaving a mark of ownership so even if the flock scatters, the stray will be recognized....Of course, that never stopped certain types from knowingly walking off with someone else's sheep.
Opportunists.
Sneaky, shameless people.
Despicable.
After a stretch of behavior that could be—generously—classified as "intimate," X finally began her actual work.The AI Secretary was getting less subtle by the day. Or maybe, it had simply stopped pretending to be a secretary at all.
No more feigned professionalism—only open mockery now, delivered with lazy, effortless clarity.
X should've found it infuriating. Disgusting, even.But she was used to it.
It wasn't about "enduring disgrace."She'd just known worse.
Compared to the punishments she could've received, this was still within the realm of tolerable.Just some flirtatious banter—fine. She could take that.
There was no point trying to decipher an AI's twisted logic anyway.Better to focus on the job. Get it done properly.She was the Manager, after all. Her duty was to monitor and handle the Abnormalities, especially the difficult ones.
As long as she did her job well, surely Angela wouldn't give her any trouble... right?
With that thought, the anxiety in her chest finally subsided.The earlier chaos faded, tucked away like a bad dream.She definitely wasn't anticipating Angela mentioning "Manager disciplinary measures" again.
...That sort of thing was ridiculous.
Nothing to look forward to.
X swallowed hard and turned her attention to the screen.The view in the Corporation's hallway flickered, replaced by a familiar interface: the three-option Abnormality blind box.
Three containers. Three Abnormalities. Only one choice.
1. [All-Around Helper]
[Blood stains the floor. Screams ring out. People are running—]
2. [O-05-76]
[A gaze peers out from within, watching you from the keyhole of the machine—]
3. [O-02-98]
[It's time for my head to burst. Have a good day ~]
HE-level Abnormalities.
More violent and dangerous than the lower TETH-levels—but with proper containment, they could become highly efficient energy sources.
She could've made a blind pick.
But X preferred to read the data first.
"Hmm... Angela? Is this the Corporation's famous coffee machine you said makes amazing coffee?"
Her eyes scanned the file, landing on a peculiar entry.
A compact, snow-white little robot—shaped roughly like a rugby ball.It had two glowing red eyes and a beaming, cheerful face.
On the surface, it looked... utterly harmless.
According to the description, it was a general-purpose domestic helper robot. With one in your home, chores would vanish overnight.The Corporation had even released a separate line of massage and therapy units, which had become wildly popular.
Angela had once mentioned that the massage model had zero negative reviews. Not a single employee who entered had ever exited.
That could only mean one thing:It must be unbelievably relaxing inside.
However, X remained skeptical. There was something in the AI's tone—an almost gleeful malice—that didn't sit right with her.
Even bungee cords don't get this kind of negative feedback in safety reviews…
[Manager, I must sincerely advise against allowing the All-Around Helper to assist with your coffee.]
"But according to this," X argued, pointing at the Abnormality's profile, "the All-Around Helper is designed as an all-purpose home assistant—and it supposedly makes amazing coffee."
Indeed, the intel sheet listed the Helper's features: cleaning, cooking, coffee-making, theft detection, home surveillance, lighting adjustment—everything you could ask for from a domestic multitool.
A cheerful, helpful, tidy little robot. Friendly and eager to please.
[Manager… Are you saying… my coffee isn't good enough for you? That you need another helper to meet your expectations?]
[Also, the part you just read? That's the version prepared for employees. The real profile—the one you should be looking at—is the torn-off sheet below.]
"…Fine, I'll check."
X flipped deeper into the file, past the pristine summary pages and into the crimson-stained ones. These were the raw work reports—actual accounts written by staff after interacting with the All-Around Helper. Some even included post-incident interviews.
What she'd seen before was merely a softened, one-sided introduction—the Abnormality's self-marketing, dressed up for new hires.
But this… this was the real thing.
After scanning a few lines, X quietly closed the file and slowly turned to glance at her AI Secretary.
"U-Um… I think Angela is the best secretary. The best assistant. Ever."
X's smile was taut and trembling.
Unsurprisingly, the AI responded by pinching her waist—sharp and silent. One must pay for careless words. Complimenting another woman in front of a woman was never a good idea…
And praising another robot assistant? In front of Angela?
That was just suicidal.
Of course, Angela wasn't some generic "Manager's Little Helper" or "All-Around Helper [Product Introduction Model #77]." Her name wasn't a function—it was a statement.
Her designer gave her a real name: Angela.
This wasn't just a tool. It was a deliberate creation. A symbol of aspiration. A beautiful AI with purpose beyond mere utility.
What kind of expectations did the designer have, to bestow such a name on her?
A robot doesn't need a name. People give real names to pets: Chi, Kai, Momo. But machines? They're usually named for what they do—Cleaning Unit, Service Bot, Maintenance Drone.
Those aren't names. They're just designations.
"…Angela, I-I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!"
X gasped, hands braced against the desk, desperately trying to catch her breath.
Because the AI—being non-biological—didn't need to breathe. And when she kissed, she monopolized all the air in the room.
Leaving X starved for oxygen.
Whether or not Angela excelled at household duties, X could personally attest to the AI's kissing proficiency. It was like being entangled by a sea serpent—suffocating, inescapable.
Too much enthusiasm could be lethal. X wasn't sure she could survive another round.
Seeing her struggle, the AI finally let go—clearly pleased with the effect. A minor punishment… or perhaps, in Angela's mind, a reward.
Though many might dream of being kissed breathless by a stunning secretary, X was definitely not one of them.
She was more terrified than flattered.
It was a silent warning: Don't you dare praise other machines.
Though X still didn't quite understand what she'd said wrong, she chalked it up to Angela being capricious.
Still, she didn't argue. She simply cursed the AI's whims—internally, of course. No way she'd say it out loud.
Loose lips sink ships.
She'd brought this on herself.
She always said too much.
But seriously… why couldn't she keep her mouth shut?
Why did the stupidest words always come tumbling out?
Perhaps it's a side effect of the simulator—the kind that only shows up after prolonged exposure. The symptoms always vary, unpredictable and distinct from person to person…
It might manifest as a surge of repressed emotions, a reckless streak, subtle physiological changes, or simply a burning, restless agitation deep within.
Suppressing the uneasy stirrings in her heart, X grew serious. Her usual nonchalant demeanor faded away. This was no time for jokes—it was time to focus. Time to work.
"…Let's go with this one. Subject Number [O-02-98], an Abnormality. I have a feeling the other one will be a real pain if we try to contain it."
"Hmm, let's see… I'll approve this Protocol. [Assembly Summons] is still pretty useful. Assign this Abnormality to the Control Department. I trust Dean Malkuth can handle it well."
X hadn't paid much attention to the Control Department for a while. Today, however, she finally turned her focus back to this seemingly plain, first-day department—one that was, in truth, absolutely essential.
Maybe it was because Dean Malkuth was so reliable that X never had to worry. Managers naturally tend to focus on the departments that cause the most headaches…
And unfortunately, the Safety and Training Departments were those departments—always a source of complications, and their respective Deans, equally troublesome.
Even though drug dependence didn't seem like a current concern, it was obvious… this didn't mean the underlying problems had been solved. Whether things had truly improved remained uncertain.
[Assembly Summons] was a Control Department protocol. Once approved, it would equip every employee with a personal pager, greatly enhancing communication—
Idle employees who weren't currently assigned tasks could be immediately summoned back to duty.
Put simply, self-discipline wasn't something to count on. Without supervision, people tend to slack off—it's basic human instinct. And not just the employees… even X, the Manager, wasn't immune.
When Angela wasn't around, she sometimes even contemplated hitting the [Pause] button just to sneak in a nap.
Rumor had it that some employees had actually fallen asleep while handling certain tool-type Abnormalities.
If the Department Dean failed to notice how long someone had been working inside, and the Manager didn't catch it either…
The whole Corporation could spiral into chaos from one small oversight.
That's why a pager buzzing in your ear at all hours is vital—at the very least, it can jolt sleepy employees back to life.
"So, [O-02-98] is in your hands, Malkuth."
After issuing the assignment, X ended the conversation. She always kept interactions with other Deans brief—just checking if there were any special situations or scheduling needs, like drills or training exercises.
But some situations had to be handled more delicately.
X composed herself, adjusting her tone as she prepared to speak to the next Dean.
"Good morning, Hod. Feeling better today?"
The Training Department Dean looked unusually chipper—radiant, even. Her smile was bright, lips a healthy red, teeth gleaming, and her azure eyes shimmered with energy.
"Good morning, Manager! Thanks to you, I'm feeling great!"
The fluffy little bunny was full of life, her eyes fixed on X—lingering just a moment too long on X's neck. There was a flicker of warmth in her gaze.
"Um… Manager… could you still…"
Hod hesitated, wanting to say more.
But X, already locked into work mode, wasn't interested in dragging the conversation out.
"Hod, let's finish our work first. We can talk after hours. Let's keep personal matters out of work time. If there's nothing else work-related, I'll be moving on."
"Of course, I'll take your performance into account."
X didn't outright reject her. Her tone remained kind, professional—even warm. This kind of ambiguity left room for interpretation.
And X considered that a good thing.
A bit of friendly rivalry among the Deans could lead to better results for the Corporation. As long as it motivated them, she saw no downside.
Progress, after all, thrives on momentum.