Inside Herta's laboratory, the tension was thick enough to set off proximity sensors.
After Herta had effectively muffled Hiroshi under a mountain of blankets, the lab door hissed open. A young woman stepped in, moving with the practiced grace of someone used to managing chaos. She had vibrant pink hair and wore a crisp, white Space Station uniform adorned with the black bow and insignia of the Station Master.
It was Asta.
As the daughter of one of the most powerful families within the Interstellar Peace Corporation, Asta was used to high-stakes diplomacy. She had come to the station to escape her family's stifling expectations and pursue her dream of celestial discovery. To her, Herta was both a mentor and a legend.
But when she saw Herta sitting on the edge of the bed, Asta's eyes widened. She practically tripped over her own black high heels.
"Madam Herta! You... what happened to you?"
"What?" Herta snapped, her voice slightly higher than usual. "Is there a problem with my appearance?"
Asta stammered, pointing vaguely at Herta's face. "No! It's just... you look incredible! Your skin is glowing, and you look... younger? Did you finally perfect that rejuvenation formula?"
Herta caught a glimpse of herself in a nearby polished workstation. She froze. Her reflection showed a woman who looked more like an older sister than a centuries-old genius. Her eyes were bright, her hair had a lush sheen, and even her posture felt more... pronounced.
The 1000% boost, Herta realized, a storm of realization hitting her. It doesn't just improve my mind; it's literally optimizing my biological form. She cleared her throat, forcing her face back into a mask of cold indifference while shifting her weight to keep the "lump" under the duvet from moving.
"It's a recent breakthrough," Herta lied smoothly. "I don't have time to discuss the cosmetic side effects. Why are you here, Asta?"
Asta beamed, her initial shock replaced by excitement. "Of course! I should have known you'd cracked it. I'm here because Madam Ruan Mei is arriving this afternoon. She wants to discuss the next expansion for the Simulated Universe. But... are you sure you're okay? Your face is a bit flushed."
"I'm fine!" Herta blurted out.
At that exact moment, Hiroshi—trapped beneath Herta's legs and struggling for air—let out a muffled, desperate whimper. It was faint, like a distant radio signal, but in the silence of the lab, it sounded like a thunderclap.
Asta tilted her head, her expression shifting to confusion. "Did you hear that? It sounded like... a kitten?"
"Experimental equipment!" Herta said, her tone sharpening. She reached a hand under the duvet and firmly covered Hiroshi's mouth. "It's a prototype for a biomimetic sensor. I've heard enough. You can leave now."
Asta hesitated. "Oh. Right. Also, about this month's IPC maintenance bill—"
"I'll pay it myself," Herta interrupted. "Just go."
Asta stared. In the history of their professional relationship, Herta had never offered to pay a bill. She usually treated the station's finances like a puzzle for Asta to solve with her family's infinite credit line.
"Something is 120% wrong here," Asta whispered to herself. She lingered for a second longer, trying to peek behind Herta's desk, until Herta's gaze turned icy.
"Unless you'd like to volunteer as a test subject for my next disintegration ray?" Herta asked sweetly.
"Leaving now! See you at the meeting!" Asta turned and fled, the hiss of the door closing behind her sounding like a victory fanfare.
Herta exhaled, the tension leaving her shoulders in a rush. She yanked the quilt back, revealing a gasping, disheveled Hiroshi.
"You nearly ruined everything, you little brat!" she hissed, though there was a strange, doting softness in her eyes that wasn't there before. "If she'd seen you like this, I'd be the laughingstock of the Genius Society by morning. How should I punish you?"
"I'm... I'm sorry, Madam," Hiroshi panted, looking up at her with those big, innocent eyes.
Herta stared at him for a long moment. Looking at his submissive, adorable expression, her anger didn't just fade—it evaporated. She let out a long, weary sigh.
"Forget it. Just... clean it up for me."
"Yes, Madam."
An hour later, Hiroshi had helped Herta change back into her formal attire and restored the lab to its pristine, clinical state. He slipped out of the master's quarters and returned to his usual rounds.
Technically, he didn't need to work anymore. He was Herta's "private battery." He could have asked for a suite, a chef, and a personal robot. But he knew the station was a hive of gossip. If he suddenly became a pampered guest, the questions would start—and some of those questions might lead to a laboratory he'd never leave.
But as he walked through the main hub, he realized his "Passive 1%" was far more dangerous than he thought.
Female researchers who usually ignored him were suddenly stopping in their tracks. He felt their gazes—sharp, hungry, and entirely too focused—lingering on him as he passed.
"Hey, Hiroshi," a senior technician whispered, "need help with that heavy floor-buffer?" She reached out, her hand lingering just a bit too long on his arm.
He felt a shiver of pure dread. If this was the effect of 1%, he was a walking siren song.
I need to get stronger, he thought, his heart racing. Herta is one thing, but if the whole station starts looking at me like I'm a five-course meal, I won't last a week.
He opened his system interface, his fingers trembling. I must have generated enough 'Emotion' from Herta and Asta by now. Please, let there be enough for another pull.
[EMOTION POINTS CALCULATION COMPLETE...]