The System Keeps Making Me Do Indecent Missions [BL, R18]

Chapter 135: Chapter 135: The Scent of Autumn (2)

Lucien picked up the stack of documents and flipped through a few pages. A mere glance was enough to understand the situation. A concept for a fashion project, something that inherently should be handled by a team of experienced designers, was now being handed over to an intern. It was not because Ethan trusted him, but because the man wanted him to run headfirst into a brick wall.

"Do you think you can handle it?" Ethan asked, his voice remaining amiable, though his eyes could not conceal the anticipation of a refusal: "If it is too difficult, I can just ask someone else."

Lucien looked up and gave a faint smile: "Yes, I can. I will do my absolute best."

Ethan’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but he quickly recovered it: "Good. The deadline is the end of this week. I believe you can do it."

Having said that, he turned and walked away, leaving the heavy stack of documents on Lucien’s desk.

[Hey, he assigned the fashion concept to you. This is originally the most difficult part of the project, and usually, only senior employees are allowed to touch it. Furthermore, you do not even specialize in this field.] 000 flapped its wings and appeared beside his ear. [He wants you to dig your own grave.]

"I know." Lucien turned the pages of the document one by one, his eyes scanning over the detailed requirements. The color palette, the materials, the style, the target audience. All of these were things that would leave a regular intern suffocating just by looking at them: "But do you think I am afraid?"

[Not afraid, no, but what experience do you have with fashion?]

"Then I will learn." Lucien replied simply: "Besides, have you forgotten about Mark? He has an entire treasure trove of notes on design techniques. A fashion concept is ultimately just another form of design. I will borrow more materials from him."

[You sound quite confident. But if you fail to finish it, Ethan will have an excuse to suppress you even more miserably. A one-week deadline is no joking matter. Sometimes an entire department can spend months on a collection and still not finish it.]

"He is going to look for ways to suppress me regardless. If I refuse, he will say I do not dare to take on the work and lack competence. If I accept it and fail to finish, he will say the exact same thing. So at the very least, I have an opportunity to prove that I can do it. Moreover, I do not have to complete the entire design blueprint; it is just a sample concept, and the professional apparel designers will handle the rest."

Lucien booted up his computer and began studying the stack of documents. He did not rush headlong into designing right away. The first thing he did was read through every single requirement carefully, noting down the crucial points, and then secretly observing how his other colleagues in the room handled similar projects. Chris, who specialized in typography, was wrestling with several fonts for a brand identity project. Linda was arguing with the printing department over color accuracy. Everyone had their own work, and no one bothered to pay attention to the intern engrossed in a thick stack of documents in the corner of the room.

During the lunch break, Lucien brought the documents to the pantry, reading as he ate. Mark walked past, and seeing him buried in the pile of papers, stopped in his tracks.

"Did Ethan assign the fashion concept to you?" Mark asked, his voice unable to hide his astonishment:

"Yes. The deadline is the end of this week."

Mark remained silent for a while, then pulled up a chair and sat down next to him: "This... is no small feat. I previously assisted on a similar project, but only in a supporting role. If you need it, I can lend you some notes on this season’s color and fabric trends."

Lucien looked up and saw that Mark’s eyes held no pity, but rather a hint of genuine concern. He nodded: "Thank you. I was actually just planning to ask you about that."

Mark stood up, returned to his desk to retrieve another small notebook, and then came back to hand it to Lucien: "Here, I just updated this last week. It has a few new trends from Milan and Paris. I hope it helps you."

Lucien took it and flipped through a few pages. Inside were meticulous notes on colors, materials, and styles, accompanied by fabric swatches carefully cut and pasted from fashion magazines. He looked at Mark and smiled softly: "You truly are the treasure of this design department."

Mark blushed slightly and shook his head: "I just... take notes. It is nothing." Then, he returned to his seat, burying his head in his monitor just as always.

That afternoon, Lucien dedicated all of his time to studying the materials and sketching out his initial ideas. He did not rush into detailed designs but instead focused on building an overarching concept. The dominant color palette consisted of warm, earthy tones: terracotta, burnt orange, and moss green. The materials emphasized the contrast between raw texture and softness. The main idea was The City of Falling Leaves, a collection meant for modern individuals who still yearned for the warmth of nature.

He drew the preliminary sketches by hand first, watching each line take shape on the scrap paper. The silhouettes of woolen coats, loosely wrapped knitted scarves, and suede boots. Everything exuded an air of elegance without being overly rigid. He wanted this collection to not only be beautiful but to also tell a story.

By five in the afternoon, everyone began to leave one after another. Sarah walked past, and seeing him still engrossed in the pile of drawings, let out a sigh: "Working overtime again? Do not stay too late."

"Yes, I will just finish up a little more and then head home."

Sarah shook her head and walked away. Ethan also walked past, glancing at the pile of drawings on his desk, but said nothing. Only his eyes flashed with a hint of bewilderment, as if he had not expected Lucien to actually start working on it.

By seven in the evening, the office was as empty as usual. But this time, Lucien did not go home. He stayed behind, continuing to work. The yellow light from the ceiling cast a glow over his desk, where the sketches were gradually taking shape. He transitioned from scrap paper to the computer, beginning to build the concept on Illustrator. The color blocks, the lines, the fonts were tested again and again. He even opened Mark’s notes file to reference the new color blending method the man had just shared.

Time slipped away without him even noticing. By the time Lucien looked up at the clock, it was already ten at night.

[Hey, it is ten o’clock. Go home, you can continue tomorrow.] 000 reminded him.

"I am almost done with the main sketches. Just let me finish tweaking this color palette." Lucien replied, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

And right at that moment, a deep, low voice echoed from the doorway of the room.

"Why haven’t you gone home yet?"

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