Chapter 20: The Weeping Child Who Lost His Tears

Over the next few days, Hersia began assisting the various maids, and Belfinger seemed intent on having her interact with different companions to help her become familiar with everyone in the establishment.

It gradually became clear to Hersia that the shop was truly a gathering place of hidden talents; many of the maids possessed extraordinary skills. Some were even beyond the manager’s control, who could only coax them gently.

Before long, another afternoon arrived.

“Hersia, this is your seventh day working, right?” The green-haired maid fed the venomous snake in her arms while speaking to the gray-haired girl.

“Yes. The manager said I should find her after work today; she’ll tell me whether I passed the evaluation.”

“You’ll definitely pass.” Brutus gently set down the black-and-white venomous snake she held and then picked up another vibrant green snake coiled around her waist.

“Thank you.” Hersia sat on a stone by the poolside, feeding a large spider resting on the table.

Decayed Sequence 4·Ghost-faced Wolf Spider (Rating: Outstanding Bronze-Gold)

This large spider was the most powerful extraordinary creature in Brutus’s glass jungle, rated at the rare Bronze-Gold level—a rank used to evaluate the overall strength of extraordinaries. The tiers from lowest to highest are: Gray Iron, Red Copper, Dark Silver, Bronze-Gold, Condensed Pearl, Prism Crystal, Apostle, Life Key, and Epic.

Most Epic-level entities are legendary Sequence 9 beings, now mostly lost in history; the highest rank commonly seen is Life Key, signifying the unlocking of one’s destiny key—fully realizing one’s innate talents and will, refining oneself to flawless perfection.

The spider’s fuzzy legs were prickly to the touch. Hersia first shook a small bell to calm the giant creature, then gradually softened the bristles on her own skin before daring to feed it small pieces of food.

The blue cube was crushed by the spider’s pincers and swallowed. After finishing, the spider’s many black eyes turned back to Hersia.

“Eat slowly; you’re dropping bits everywhere.” Hersia brushed the fallen crumbs onto a piece of paper beneath it and then, considering practicality, scooped up the big spider in her hands to feed it on the paper, avoiding any mess.

Watching her handle such a dangerous spider skillfully and naturally, Brutus was tempted to warn her but ultimately held back.

Unconsciously, this child was no longer afraid of spiders or snakes; sometimes, she even dared to tap the unruly creatures, much like Brutus herself.

Is this the speed at which the gifted grow? Brutus thought silently.

Finally, it was time to clock out.

Hersia found the manager sitting in a corner of the Glass Dream, leisurely sipping tea as usual.

“Hersia, you’re here. You must be used to things by now.”

“Yes.” The girl saluted respectfully.

“Good, just as expected from the one I chose.” The manager seemed proud, like some proud creature striding along a rural ridge.

“Tomorrow, you’ll officially start work.”

“But before that, I have some things to teach you.” For once, her expression turned serious.

“First, customers are not gods. We cannot unconditionally and endlessly satisfy their demands; that would only break the rules and make business unsustainable.”

“If you feel troubled, then boldly refuse—but your tone must be kind.”

“Secondly, mistakes at work are inevitable; even experienced hands slip up after countless repetitions.”

“After an error, we must do our best to make amends and solve the customer’s problem, but never apologize unless absolutely unavoidable!”

“We can handle issues as helpers and companions of the customers, like friends, but apologizing places us in opposition to them.”

“With unreasonable customers, once you apologize, you fall into a psychological and moral disadvantage; they may take advantage and demand more benefits, making things harder to manage.”

“Furthermore, apologies are a serious matter. Employees don’t have the right to apologize; it can humiliate some noble customers and cause great harm to yourselves.”

“If you encounter an unsolvable situation, contact me or a senior you trust as soon as possible, and it’s best for you to quickly leave the customer’s sight.”

“Having someone else handle the issue eases tensions and makes things much easier. I have many reasons to help you out and can offer the customer some compensation; this usually resolves things smoothly.”

“When the person who made the mistake faces the customer directly, neither side can easily back down.” She sipped her tea, her tone softening again.

“This is my experience after many years in this business. I hope it helps you.”

“Thank you, Manager.” Hersia expressed her gratitude sincerely this time.

“Do your best.” The manager stood and waved to Hersia.

“Life will bring many troubles, but avoiding them only creates more.” With that, she slowly left, her silhouette somehow nobler under the simulated sunset’s glow.

---

After changing out of her regular clothes, Hersia carried a bag into the vertical elevator. The day’s work was over, and she was heading home. The bag contained a maid’s uniform tailored exquisitely to her figure.

With a faint sense of hope and gratitude in her heart, Hersia set off.

But as she approached the tunnel where the incident had occurred before, a stranger emerged—a young man with black hair.

He was smoking, head down, then slowly straightened, stepping to the center of the entrance and blocking her path.

“You’re Hersia Tylan, right?” He spat out the cigarette butt and crushed it underfoot, the harsh scraping sound sending a shiver down her spine, and the steel floor showing faint scratches.

Hersia took a step back, sensing the rapidly flowing magic power within her body spreading outward.

Dragon Sequence 4·Unknown (Rating: Rare Bronze-Gold)

In Hersia’s vision, the black-haired youth emitted dragon sequence magic as if tangible, strands seeming to ignite the air, suffocating with a burning heat.

“I am Hersia Tylan.” The girl forced calmness, her mind swiftly calculating a way out.

No more running away—Hersia remembered someone telling her this long ago. Though she had never succeeded until facing life and death, she now found a sliver of resolve and courage.

“Oh, you’re quite honest, admitting so quickly.”

The black-haired youth lifted his head, his black bangs parting to reveal intimidating golden eyes radiating pressure and fear that filled the narrow space.

The bag dropped to the ground, its white fabric slowly soaked by puddled water, stained gray and black.

Hersia turned and ran, familiar corridors and corners blurring past as she thought quickly of the nearest riot control unit’s station.

It was to the north on the next floor—a small supermarket with an unmanned police booth beside it, home to the riot control team.

But a fierce punch struck her from behind, breaking her train of thought.

She flew like a rag doll, crashing against the corridor wall, her body wracked with pain as if falling apart.

In agonizing chaos, she slid down the wall, rolling twice on the floor before coming to a stop, her body bruised and scraped.

“Hmph, is that all?” The youth slipped his hands into his pockets and approached the groaning girl.

“So fragile.” With that, he kicked again. Hersia flew, tracing a long arc through the air before tumbling over the steel floor seven or eight times.

Her arms and wrists were scratched and bloody; her knees scraped raw, dark red blood staining her thighs.

“Boring.”

He stepped closer and crushed her left hand beneath his foot, eliciting a miserable scream mingled with the sound of bones cracking.

After more than ten seconds, he lifted his foot and looked disdainfully at the sweating, trembling girl struggling below.

Such a pointless little creature. How did Master end up defeated by someone like this...

He took out a personal terminal from his waist, turned away, and approached the steel railing to call for emergency assistance to have the girl removed.

Behind him, sobbing and crying continued. Hersia pressed a bleeding forehead with one hand, struggling to stand as knee and body pain made her legs tremble, nearly collapsing. Her vision blurred by tears and blood, she could only see the man’s back.

No more running away, Hersia. You have no family, no refuge, and no one who will love or comfort you wholeheartedly anymore...

Her calves weakened, and she fell again, palms scraping the floor, leaving thin marks like sand embedded with iron particles, blurring her once fair skin.

Hearing the thud, the black-haired youth turned, watching the girl struggling to rise.

Hersia clenched her fingers, pressing against the cold ground, pushing herself shakily upright. Her gray hair had turned completely black, her dust- and blood-streaked face lifted to reveal those pale blue eyes.

“Interesting.” The youth put down his phone and approached swiftly, throwing a punch.

Golden dragon scales appeared on his muscular arm, the air pressure solid as he swung, the fist growing larger in slow motion in Hersia’s view.

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