7:30 AM, System Time. This is the moment the alarm signals the start of another day of divine drudgery at the Jade Palace Conglomerate. To deal with it, I usually have to wake up at 6:00. An hour and a half is the minimum amount of time I need to deceive myself into thinking I still have some freedom—enough to brew a strong cup of Faith Point coffee, soak in the tub, and meticulously groom my single tail.

  I live in The Conflux Residential Complex, located in the Prisma District. They call it a "complex," but it's really a cluster of personal pocket realities stacked on top of each other like a giant honeycomb. The Prisma District is a proper residential area, where the artificial light is softer and the air is less suffocating than in the administrative districts. The price for this comfort is a 45-minute flight to the Empyrean Expanse. Translocation ordinances and devices can only be used within a single district—a stupid security rule meant to prevent office "break-ins." So, just like billions of other deities, I start my day by flying through a Subspace Buffer Zone, an experience no different from a rush-hour commute in the Mundane Realm.

  I arrive at the office at 7:00. And of course, Alethea and Zhen Shan are already there, even earlier than me. I wonder if those two workaholics even have the concept of "sleeping in" in their dictionaries.

  I say "office" for flair, but it's actually our own private subspace, decorated in a chaotic mix that reflects the tastes of its three inhabitants. When you step through the portal marked "Team 7," you see an architectural fusion that cannot be found anywhere else.

  My corner, as the Head of Field Relations, is a rebellious take on a traditional tea room. The floor is lined with tatami mats, but instead of sitting cushions, I have a pile of fox-shaped bean bags of various sizes. A series of holographic screens and high-tech devices are cleverly hidden behind paper shoji screens, constantly updating with FP analytics, "client" profiles, and posts from Sensitive forums. This area is usually quite empty. The field agents on my team are almost always on long-term assignments in World 1031, so it’s often just me, delegating tasks through video calls.

  Opposite my corner is Zhen Shan's, a sophisticated Silkpunk mechanics workshop. Machines of jade and brass are draped with silk banners embroidered with tigers and clouds, concealing complex systems of gears and pistons within. This is where he maintains his equipment and analyzes security tech. His area is even emptier than mine. Sometimes, a whole week goes by with no one there, because Zhen Shan himself has to frequently descend to the mortal plane to handle matters. His security personnel have it even worse; they are practically stationed at the outposts 24/7, busy beyond belief. That's why, before every holiday, Zhen Shan has to post an electronic sign-up sheet to the group chat, asking idle deities like me to help him "mow the lawn," just so his staff can get a few rare days off.

  And finally, there is Alethea’s corner. A stunning Greek library with rows of white marble columns and a massive "window" that looks out onto a brilliant blue Mediterranean beach. You can even hear the waves and go for a swim, though in all the time I've worked here, I've never seen anyone with enough free time to do so. This is the only part of our office that is always bustling. The analysts on her team rarely need to go into the field, so they are always here, hunched over their work. It looks like it’s full of books and parchment scrolls, but in reality, each book is a supercomputer. Just by opening one, a complex hologram projects into the air, allowing them to interact directly with data streams. Truly the style of a Goddess of Wisdom.

  As usual, before starting my work, I head over to Alethea's corner to see if there is any new drama. But today, the atmosphere doesn't seem very cheerful. Alethea and Zhen Shan are standing by an analysis table, and both of their faces look like they are attending a funeral.

  "Good morning," I say, trying to sound upbeat.

  "What's wrong? Did the quarterly financial report come out that bad?"

  Alethea looks up, her green eyes filled with worry. She pushes the cracked energy canister towards me.

  "It's about the canister from yesterday," she says, her voice low.

  "I'm afraid it brings with it a whole new set of troubles, much bigger than we thought."

  "Bigger trouble...?"

  I repeat, my fox ears drooping automatically. The first reaction my brain has to that phrase is always: "Bigger trouble... means... more paperwork."

  Alethea gently shakes her head, her platinum hair shimmering under the soft light.

  "It's not convenient to talk here. There are too many eyes and ears. Let's go over to Zhen's corner."

  She's right. Her area always has a few other analysts working. No matter how engrossed they are in their tasks, I don't fully trust their ability to keep their mouths shut. So, the three of us quietly make our way to Zhen Shan's workspace. It’s as deserted as always, with only the faint clicking of gears from the Silkpunk contraptions hidden behind silk screens.

  Zhen places the broken jar on a metal tabletop, which immediately projects a series of parameters and 3D images of the crack.

  "According to my preliminary analysis," he begins, his voice deep and steady.

  "The mastermind used some kind of remote detonation Law. The evidence is clear; the explosion only chipped a corner of the jar from the inside. The energy was focused on a single point to destroy the Anomaly within without completely shattering the container."

  "That's right," Alethea adds, her expression even more contemplative.

  "But here's the problem. I’ve scanned the entire jar and the surrounding area with an energy spectrometer. I can't find any residual trace of divine power. Absolutely none. Only the chaotic spiritual energy from the self-destructing Anomalies."

  I twitch my nose, trying to process this conflicting information.

  "Huh...? Are you saying the one pulling the strings isn't a deity? A human? Or some high-level Anomaly?"

  "Don't jump to conclusions, Itsuki," Zhen cuts in.

  "If it were another force, my Aura Sight would have detected it immediately. No mortal or Anomaly can fool us that easily."

  Alethea nods in agreement.

  "Exactly. Let's go back to that moment when the suicide Anomalies appeared. What was their objective? They were clearly targeting the civilians and both of you. Their main purpose was to create chaos and eliminate the Kuchisake-onna. They were a diversion."

  Zhen frowns, the striped fur on his brow furrowing.

  "Could my initial guess be wrong? The Kuchisake-onna wasn't detonated from the inside, but was hit by one of the suicide explosions from the outside?"

  He shakes his head.

  "Impossible. An external blast would have shattered the jar to pieces, not created a clean chip like this."

  "Yes, that's what makes it so confusing," Alethea sighs, raising a hand to her temple.

  "My simulation algorithms have been running into errors. Every scenario leads to an illogical outcome."

  "It sounds like..." I speak up, trying to visualize the situation.

  "He sent a bunch of Anomalies, blew them up randomly, and just hoped one of them would luckily hit the jar in a super precise way that only kills the Anomaly inside without destroying the container. That's absurd."

  "It is absurd," Alethea agrees.

  "Furthermore, if you two had used a more secure containment method, like a multi-layered seal, the mastermind's plan would have a near-zero chance of success. He couldn't have known what kind of jar you would use. Therefore..."

  She pauses, her green eyes looking directly at us.

  "I have a theory."

  A chill runs down my spine.

  "Chance... Wait, don't tell me..."

  "Indeed," she says slowly.

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  "It's highly likely that a Law of Probability was involved here."

  "WHAT???" I shout.

  Even Zhen Shan, who always keeps his composure, seems stunned.

  "This is serious," he murmurs.

  "The Law of Probability is one of the High-tier Laws. To use it, even at the lowest level, requires a 'Seal of Approval' from a Prime Deity. For Neo Deities like us, it's completely locked by the system."

  A heavy silence falls over us. This situation has escalated far beyond the scope of a field operations team. This is a conspiracy involving the highest echelons of The Nexus.

  "This..." I swallow hard, "so, should we report this to the Director?"

  "Hmm," Alethea muses, "our Director is a man who always follows procedure. He would most likely report this further up the chain. And this matter... reporting it to the higher-ups might not be a good idea."

  "I agree," Zhen adds, his voice laced with caution.

  "We don't know which conglomerate's Prime Deity is behind this. If it's the worst-case scenario... our Sector 1031, and the Director himself, could be put in a difficult position. We could even be 'restructured'."

  I clutch my head, feeling like it's about to explode. My tail droops listlessly.

  "Hic... All this trouble over a single, lousy Kuchisake-onna!"

  I stretch out on my beloved fox-shaped bean bag, letting out a weary sigh. On the holographic screen before me, a list of tasks flashes. The minor ones, like "Approve budget for the Ghost Festival event in the Vietnam market" or "Send birthday greetings to a Taoist priest in Taiwan," are already dealt with. But the main tasks remain, standing tall like mountains of paperwork.

  [HIGH PRIORITY] - Negotiate with Takama-ga-hara Ventures for the screening license of the latest film, ‘Nezha: Wrath of the Dragon God,’ in the Japan 1031 market.

  [URGENT] - Resolve the conflict between the 1031 Operations Team and the security department of the Four Immortals Syndicate(our partner in the Vietnam market) over territorial disputes.

  [PERIODIC] - Update and submit the general report on active Sensitives in the Asian sector, while also proposing an expansion plan into Western markets.

  That last item is the very reason I have to peel myself off this comfortable bean bag. It’s time to see the big boss.

  The office of the Director of Sector 1031 is located on the highest floor of the Monitoring Tower, a separate dimensional space even larger and more luxurious than our own. The entrance is not an ordinary gate but a bridge of light spanning across a roiling sea of clouds. Crossing the bridge, I step into a vast celestial garden. Clouds drift lazily beneath my feet, and at the center of the garden stands a gazebo made of white jade, where the Director usually receives his guests.

  His name is Ariel. It's a rather unusual name for a deity under the Jade Palace Conglomerate's payroll. He is a Lion Deity, his fur a brilliant gold like the sun, and a pair of enormous, pristine white wings folded neatly behind his back. A Neo Deity originally from Heaven Inc., who, for reasons unknown, transferred to a rival conglomerate. He looks both as majestic as a king and as holy as an angel.

  I bow my head.

  "Director, I’ve come to report on the status of the Sensitives."

  Director Ariel nods, gesturing for me to sit on the silk cushion opposite him. He says nothing, simply listening in silence as I present the data, the growth potential, and the new proposals. His voice, when he finally speaks, is deep and warm, yet it always carries an authority one cannot ignore.

  "...And that is the entirety of the report," I conclude.

  "The Japanese sector, as you can see, shows immense potential for growth."

  Director Ariel gazes out into the infinite expanse.

  "I once studied under the Seraphim," he says, his voice distant.

  "They possess a unique ability to know precisely where and when darkness begins to spread, when evil rises. And my intuition tells me that the Japanese sector is becoming a hotspot. It holds not only potential, but also danger."

  He turns to look at me, his brilliant golden eyes shining.

  "Take good care of the Sensitives in that region, Itsuki. They are the first line of defense, and also the most vulnerable."

  "Yes, Director," I reply.

  "But as you know, Takama-ga-hara Ventures controls nearly all the Sensitives there. It's very difficult for us to intervene."

  "They are overwhelmed," Ariel states.

  "The number of Anomalies appearing in Japan has surged recently; their 1031 department lacks the manpower to handle it. I have already signed a security support contract with them. Zhen Shan's teams will assist with the cleanup, and in return, we gain access to and the right to sign contracts with a portion of their Sensitive market share. The more Sensitives become our partners, the stronger our foundation for increasing faith, brand recognition, and most importantly, FP revenue. This is the contract seal. Take it down to your team."

  An ornate brocade box materializes on the table. I accept it with a respectful bow.

  On my way back to the office, I happen to cross paths with a familiar figure hurrying in the opposite direction. A Wolf Deity with ash-gray fur, clad in the combat uniform of Zhen Shan's team.

  "Xiaolang?" I call out.

  "Back at the office so soon? Your shift isn't over yet."

  He stops, his youthful wolfish face, full of enthusiasm, turns to me.

  "Oh, Mr. Itsuki! I came back to get more medical supplies for the mortals. The situation at the Tokyo outpost isn't great. The Anomalies in the Japanese sector are getting more aggressive and erratic, and the number of injured Sensitives is rising. The security team is critically short on personnel skilled in healing Arts."

  I look at the young wolf, then at the brocade box in my hands.

  "Is that so... In that case, let's head down to Tokyo together. I'm carrying a contract seal from Director Ariel himself. Once the Sensitives sign and receive this mark, they become exclusive partners of the Jade Palace Conglomerate. Other corporations won't be able to 'borrow' them, even if they want to."

  Xiaolang's eyes light up.

  "Really? That's great news! With official protection, they'll be much safer!"

  He walks beside me, his voice filled with admiration.

  "By the way, Mr. Itsuki, why do you always call Mr. Shan 'boss' or 'chief'? In terms of rank, you two are equals, aren't you?"

  I chuckle at the young wolf's innocent question. I casually sling an arm around his shoulder.

  "You wouldn't get it, kid. Sometimes, your dear tiger boss actually enjoys it when I call him that."

  The Cloud-Hopper gate materializes before us like a swirling vortex of white mist. I pat Xiaolang on the shoulder.

  "Let's go."

  He nods, eagerly stepping through. Traveling via Cloud-Hopper is always a much more pleasant experience than that violent rainbow bridge. We are in a tunnel made entirely of clouds, ethereal and gentle, even though I know we're moving at a speed mortals can only dream of. Essentially, all these technologies—Bifrost, Cloud-Hopper, and other various portals—operate on the same principle: creating a hyperspace, a "wormhole" as humanity imagines it, to connect The Nexus with other worlds. It's the only way to go on a "business trip" without it taking a million Fiscal Years.

  The journey ends smoothly. We land on the rooftop of the Tokyo Tower, exactly at the designated coordinates. The chill wind of the Mundane Realm blows past, carrying the characteristic, chaotic scent of a megalopolis.

  "Phew,"

  I exhale, trying to push the uncomfortable feeling away.

  "It's always the same. Tokyo is thick with the smell of negativity. Ambition, jealousy, loneliness... all mixed together. And yet, you still look so enthusiastic."

  Xiaolang, his bright wolf eyes gleaming, takes a deep breath.

  "But I find it full of life! It's just how we canine deities are, always optimistic. I think you're the strange one, Itsuki-san. You always look like you're sleep-deprived."

  I glance at the young pup, then sigh.

  "Ah, young one."

  We begin our descent, our bodies fading into the air, becoming invisible.

  "Listen carefully," I start getting down to business.

  "The number of Sensitives that Takama-ga-hara Ventures is allowing us to approach in this support contract is a maximum of twenty-eight more. A pretty decent number."

  "That's great!" Xiaolang exclaims.

  "But," I interrupt.

  "The contract was drafted by those sly old gods over there. They only gave a vague number, with no mention of quality. They've left us scraping the bottom of the barrel. I bet they've already kept the best Sensitives for themselves, leaving us with the second-rate ones, or maybe a few who are about to retire."

  Xiaolang's wolf ears droop, his earlier excitement fading slightly.

  "Oh... is that so?"

  "Don't worry," I say, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

  "Last night, I happened to find an extremely high-quality Sensitive. A 'rare mint-condition item' that no one has touched. He's right around here."

  "You're amazing, Itsuki-san!" Xiaolang perks up again.

  "To find someone new right in the middle of Tokyo. I thought Takama-ga-hara had a monopoly on everyone here."

  "That's because he just awakened last night," I say with a smirk.

  "And the first person he met was me. We call this a first-mover advantage."

  We patrol the area around Kaito's apartment complex. I plan to show Xiaolang our new "intern," but strangely, I don't feel his presence. His apartment is empty. He's not at the playground below either.

  I frown. Something is not right. He's a certified otaku; at this hour, he should definitely be at home grinding a game or reading manga.

  I close my eyes, concentrating. And then I feel it. A thin, almost transparent veil of energy enveloping the entire neighborhood. A cloaking Law. A very sophisticated one.

  "Dammit," I hiss.

  "They're using a cloaking Law! They're trying to steal him right from under my nose!"

  Damn it, I just reported Kaito's potential this morning. They move fast.

  "Xiaolang!" I command, my voice turning sharp and cold.

  "Go find him. This is a sample of his spiritual energy I saved from last night."

  I transfer a small stream of energy to him.

  "I'll deal with this annoying Law. Find him. Now!"