Chapter 16: Hidden Missions
1147 Words
Damn! She noticed something!
Qibo’s heart skipped a beat as he scrambled out from under the table, brushing dust off his shirt and quickly pretending to examine his phone.
“Huh, my phone might’ve gotten damaged. It’s not lighting up anymore,” he muttered, feigning confusion.
How long had he been under there? Cai Yun had only adjusted her posture after subconsciously sensing something off. She didn’t actually peek under the table, so there was no way she could know he had… momentarily lost his focus. Qibo clung to the only logical cover: he was merely trying to retrieve a dropped phone.
“Your phone’s broken? Want me to call it to check?” Cai Yun had just ended her own call and held up her phone casually, her tone calm and unbothered.
Qibo glanced at her. She looked genuinely relaxed, no signs of suspicion. It seemed she only saw him under the table and adjusted her skirt as a reflex. That was a relief.
He gave her his number and cautiously studied her expression. Nothing unusual. She hadn’t caught him. Good.
Still, he couldn’t help but feel regret. If she hadn’t noticed, couldn’t he have snapped a quick photo? Not for anything perverted, of course—just curiosity, he told himself. After all, this wasn’t some anonymous image off the internet. This was a real person he actually knew!
Whoa… that was a seriously sketchy line of thought. He shook his head. “Get a grip,” he muttered inwardly.
Just then, a familiar electronic chime echoed in his mind.
New Task Released: Use your phone to discreetly capture an image of Cai Yun from under the table.
Reward: Phone camera quality upgraded from 2 megapixels to 20 megapixels.
Qibo blinked. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Another mission? And from the so-called Medical Ethics System no less?
He hadn’t even completed the last task—administering anesthesia properly in a clinical setting. That one made sense. This one? Not so much. Was this really a “medical ethics” system or a “mischief-making” one?
Before he could unravel the mystery, Cai Yun chuckled and gave him a playful glance. “Your ringtone’s the same as mine. What a coincidence.”
Qibo forced a laugh. “Oh, yeah. Total coincidence.”
He thought to himself: Tomorrow at the reproductive health center, you’ll be surprised just how coincidental everything really is.
Cai Yun leaned in a bit, casually asking, “You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?”
“Huh? How’d you know?”
“Easy. No one in a relationship would choose this song as a ringtone. It screams heartbreak—or longing for love. Am I wrong?” She smiled smugly, resting her chin in her palm, clearly pleased with her deduction.
“You a psychologist or something?” he replied, amused.
“I’m a gynecologist,” she said with a laugh, “but I do have some understanding of the human mind.”
Soon, their food arrived. Qibo eyed the skewers with professional interest. Thanks to his parents’ experience running a food stall, he knew a thing or two about grilling.
“These are super tender,” he said, chewing thoughtfully. “Too tender…”
He put his skewer down after the first one. There was no way meat could be this soft without a chemical assist—probably tenderizing powder, which often contained compounds harmful to the liver and potentially carcinogenic.
He thought about his parents. They grilled food too but refused to use shortcuts like that. As a result, their meat wasn’t as tender—but it was honest. Healthy.
They worked from morning to night, first frying dough sticks and then running a barbecue stall in the evening. Just over forty years old, and their hands were already worn, their faces weathered with early wrinkles. Always smelling of smoke and oil.
And the air they breathed every day—PM2.5-laden, thick with carcinogens…
Someday, he thought, I’ll make enough money so they can finally rest.
But tonight, he had to focus. Or rather, refocus—back to the mission.
Despite how absurd it sounded, Qibo knew from his gaming experience that this was likely a side quest, while the anesthesia task was the main story mission. Still, it was tempting. A phone camera upgrade of that scale? From 2 to 20 megapixels? That was high-end DSLR territory.
And his current phone? It barely took clear photos of anything. Half the time, the images were too blurry to even tell who was in them. An upgrade like that would be life-changing.
The question was—how?
He couldn’t just crawl under the table again. That would look suspicious. Cai Yun might already be mildly on alert. Try that again and she might reflexively close her legs or change her posture for good. Opportunity lost.
He needed a smarter plan.
He looked down at his lap and considered—if he couldn’t see the target directly, maybe the phone could. Just a quick tilt under the table, a lucky angle, and…
“This tofu skewer’s actually really good,” he said aloud, trying to distract her, offering it with one hand while his other hand rested his phone on his thigh.
He had already set the camera to burst mode.
Cai Yun reached for the skewer, distracted by the conversation and the movement. At that moment, Qibo pressed the volume button discreetly.
Click. Click. Click.
Just a few quick photos, hopefully not angled too obviously. He didn’t dare check them immediately—too risky. He slid the phone back into his pocket and forced a grin as if nothing happened.
“I can see why this place is popular,” Cai Yun said, chewing thoughtfully. “You have a sharp tongue though. Most people wouldn’t notice something like meat texture.”
“My parents run a street stall,” Qibo said simply.
Cai Yun’s expression softened slightly. “Ah… So this isn’t just idle critique. You actually know your stuff.”
Qibo gave a small nod. He didn’t like bragging about his family’s hard work, but he felt oddly proud in that moment.
The rest of the meal passed with light conversation, but Qibo’s mind was elsewhere. His thoughts circled back to the system’s mission, and more importantly, the implications.
What kind of system encouraged such behavior? And why?
What even was this system?
Where did it come from?
And most of all—why him?
He didn’t have answers. But one thing was clear: this system wasn’t playing by any ethical manual he’d ever read. Still… if it led him to uncover greater powers or secrets—maybe it was worth listening to. For now.
He’d check the photos later.
Maybe they were useless.
Maybe one of them was “perfect.”
Either way… the mission was in motion.
- Writer
