The next morning, Luo Qing joined the crowd heading toward the production zone.
Most inmates barely earned enough ration coupons to cover daily necessities, so skipping the morning work shift wasn’t an option for many. However, it wasn’t unusual to see more inmates opting for overtime in the afternoons.
Work in the production zone primarily consisted of basic assembly-line tasks requiring little technical skill. Thanks to Sergei’s prior networking, Luo Qing was assigned one of the easiest jobs—standing by a machine, placing a gear into a mold every three minutes, and removing the finished product before starting again.
In between, Luo Qing could do whatever he wanted.
Three minutes… Luo Qing chuckled internally.
In the domain of Time Zero, he could stretch those three minutes into what felt like an entire day—enough time to thoroughly explore every corner of the production zone.
Placing the gear into the mold and pressing the start button, Luo Qing stretched lazily, turning his gaze to study the surroundings.
Meropide Fortress was structured like a massive, bottomless shaft. The upper levels served as living quarters, while the lower levels housed production zones, connected by a brass hub that spanned the fortress.
From the heat radiating from the hub, it seemed to house an enormous furnace. Luo Qing’s position was on the outermost edge of the production zone, far from its core.
The machine’s red indicator light flickered on, signaling the start of processing. At the same time, Luo Qing’s eyes glinted gold, and his figure vanished in an instant.
“Huh? Where’d he go?”
Orius, an inmate serving a ten-year sentence, glanced at the now-empty workstation next to him, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks.
Three minutes later, just as Orius debated reporting the disappearance to the guards, the machine’s green light turned on, indicating the process was complete.
To Orius’s astonishment, Luo Qing reappeared at his station, as if he had never left.
Orius rubbed his eyes and swallowed hard before leaning over to Luo Qing.
“Hey, uh, just now…”
“Just now?” Luo Qing feigned ignorance. “What about just now?”
“You disappeared! Like, you were gone!”
“What? Nah, I’ve been here the whole time,” Luo Qing replied innocently.
“…?”
Orius frowned, questioning his sanity. Maybe I imagined it… I haven’t been sleeping well with all the overtime lately.
“Maybe I was just seeing things. Sorry, my bad.” Orius chuckled nervously before turning back to his work.
But moments later, the machine at Luo Qing’s station beeped again. The red light came on, and this time Orius saw it clearly—Luo Qing’s eyes flashed gold, and he vanished.
“…”
I didn’t imagine it this time! Orius thought, his heart racing.
Could the rumors about ghosts haunting overworked prisoners be true?
When Luo Qing reappeared three minutes later, Orius’s face turned pale, and he dropped to the floor, trembling.
“You… you… are you human or a ghost?” Orius stammered, backing away. “I… I’ll stop working overtime! I swear! Please don’t take me! I don’t want to die!”
“…?” Luo Qing stared at the terrified man, baffled.
All he’d done was play around with disappearing for a bit. Was that really so scary?
Before Luo Qing could speak, Orius scrambled to his feet, desperate to flee.
“Stop.” Luo Qing’s voice was calm but carried undeniable authority.
Orius froze in place, as if an invisible force pinned him to his workstation.
It’s true! He’s a ghost here to punish me for overworking!
“Listen,” Luo Qing began. “First, I’m not a ghost. Got it?”
Orius nodded vigorously.
“Good. I’ll ask a few questions, and you’ll pretend none of this ever happened. Understand?”
More frantic nodding.
“Speak.”
“Thank you, gho—uh, sir, for sparing my life!” Orius blurted.
“…” Luo Qing sighed, ignoring the comment.
“First question: how long have you been here?”
“Th-three years, sir.”
“And your crime?”
Orius hesitated, averting his gaze.
“Answer.”
“I… I tried sneaking into Lady Furina’s room and got caught by the guards…”
“…”
Ah, a kindred spirit, Luo Qing thought dryly, quickly composing himself.
“What were you trying to do in Lady Furina’s room?”
Orius lowered his head even further.
“Answer,” Luo Qing pressed.
“I… I really admire Lady Furina, so… I wanted to steal one of her stockings to keep as a memento…”
“…”
Luo Qing glanced at the white lace stockings in his inventory and said nothing.
The awkward silence stretched on. Orius peeked at Luo Qing, eager to break the tension.
“Uh, sir, are you also an exile here?”
“Mm.”
“I see…” Orius swallowed, both surprised and impressed. Luo Qing’s composure made it clear he wasn’t just anyone.
“What’s your crime, sir?”
“That’s not a question you need to ask.”
“Oh…”
“Next question. How do I get to the lowest level for work?”
Orius hesitated, then leaned in cautiously. “Sir, what do you want to do in the lowest level?”
“Oh, I just love Meropide Fortress,” Luo Qing replied with a perfectly straight face. “I want to contribute to its frontline efforts and shine brightly for its future.”
“…”
Orius stared at him, deadpan. Does he even believe that nonsense?
—
T/N: he found someone like him!
This is a fan translation of 原神：这个见习执行官太屑了 by 何一乐. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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