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

Chapter 136: Chapter 136: The Direct Directive

The man’s voice ringing out made Lucien startle violently. He was genuinely startled this time, as he had been completely focused on his sketch the entire time. Lucien looked up, just in time to see Damian Thorne standing outside the door of the design room.

He was quite loyal to his gray suit jackets; today he was wearing his usual outfit, except his tie was loosened and his sleeves were rolled up high to his elbows. His posture appeared somewhat fatigued, but his eyes remained as sharp and cold as usual.

Lucien was slightly surprised to run into him here; by all rights, the man should have gotten off work a long time ago. However, he quickly adjusted his state of mind and replied to the man, "I still have a bit of unfinished work. You are also leaving work quite late today, sir."

Damian did not answer immediately but instead strode into the room, his gaze sweeping across Lucien’s desk. Sketches were scattered across the table, the computer monitor displayed a concept board with warm, earthy color blocks, and a few mood boards were temporarily taped to the partition.

"What is this?" he asked, pointing a finger at the screen.

"It is the concept for the Autumn-Winter fashion project. Ethan assigned it to me."

Damian frowned. "Ethan assigned a fashion concept to you? An intern?"

Lucien detected a trace of doubt in his voice. He took a deep breath, then replied, "Yes. I know this kind of task is not usually meant for interns, but I wanted to test my abilities. If you find it unsatisfactory, I am entirely ready to make revisions."

Damian did not respond right away. He leaned down and picked up a sketch from the desk to examine it. His deep eyes glossed over every single line and every block of color.

For some reason, watching his appearance like that, Lucien felt his heart beat a little faster, suddenly becoming nervous.

He had taken drawing classes in the past; meaning, back in the real world, he had also dabbled in these design endeavors. His family had always applauded and praised his talent, even saying that if he were willing to develop his skills in this field, he might just build a personal reputation for himself.

But Lucien knew his own limits perfectly well; swiping a few random strokes to make something look decent was within his capabilities. As for building a reputation... nine times out of ten, his family was just coaxing him.

This was the very first time an outsider was evaluating his artwork, so Lucien was understandably a little anxious.

Even though he was confident he could overcome this hurdle, having never had his true abilities verified before, Lucien still worried.

"Is this your idea?" Damian asked, his voice seemingly carrying a different tone.

"Yes. I drew inspiration from autumn in the city. Streets flooded with golden leaves, a chill just enough to require a scarf but not yet thick coats. I wanted this collection to evoke a sense of warmth while remaining elegant."

Damian placed the sketch down, then turned to look at the monitor. He pointed a finger at the color palette. "Pairing this earthy brown tone with burnt orange; who taught you that?"

"I am self-taught. I also referenced some materials from a colleague."

"Which colleague?"

"Mark. He lent me a few notes on color trends."

Damian gave a slight nod, then fell silent once more. He studied the concept board for another moment, then unexpectedly asked an unrelated question: "How long have you been with the company?"

"I... I have been working as an intern for a few months now."

"A few months," Damian repeated, his voice pensive. "Yet you managed to create this."

Lucien did not know whether that was a compliment or merely a casual observation. He only knew to stand there, waiting.

Finally, Damian set the stack of sketches down on the desk, turning to look straight into Lucien’s eyes. "Continue. When the final version is complete, send it directly to me. Do not go through Ethan."

Lucien blinked. "Pardon? Send it directly to you, sir?"

"Yes. I want to see the final product." Damian said, then turned his back and stepped toward the door. Before stepping entirely out of view, he paused for a second without turning his head. "And do not stay too late. You still have to go home."

Having said that, he strode out into the hallway, vanishing behind the door.

Lucien stood there, watching his retreating figure, his mind still slightly reeling. He looked down at the stack of sketches on his desk, then back up at the computer monitor. Had that man just told him, a mere intern, to send the design directly to the general manager like himself, without needing to go through his direct supervisor and the design department director?

[Oh ho.] 000 fluttered its wings. [It seems someone has managed to make quite an impression. That is the very first time I have seen him speak so much.]

"Me too." Lucien let out a breath, then plopped down heavily into his chair. His heart was still beating a little fast, but mostly out of excitement. "Hey, do these plus points of yours have the effect of putting a filter over people’s eyes?"

[Huh? What do you mean by that?]

"I do not think there is any normal general manager who would tell some random intern from a tiny department to send a fully completed sketch directly to him within a week. There must be something wrong with his head, or he has been manipulated by those stats of yours."

[Could you perhaps try to value your own abilities just a little bit?]

"Oh, then I will just treat you like a Mary Sue system, turning me into an omnipotent golden statue."

[You flatter me too much.]

Seeing Lucien quietly packing up his belongings in preparation to leave, 000 flapped its wings and looked at him: [By the way, earlier, he told you not to stay too late. That sounded quite caring.]

"Whether he cares or not remains to be seen, but at the very least, he speaks like a decent human being. There are some bosses who see their employees working overtime and just stick their noses in the air, claiming it is the employee’s absolute duty. Ugh, if that were me, I would smash an entire tablet over his head."

Lucien slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped out of the design room. The seventh-floor hallway was pitch black, with only a few flickering lights remaining. As he walked past Damian’s office, he saw that the door was shut tight, with no light shining inside. He had truly gone home.

On his way to the bus stop, Lucien pulled out his phone and sent Mark a message: "Are you still awake? Something incredible just happened. Damian just dropped by the design room while I was working on the fashion project."

A reply came back almost instantaneously: "Really? What did he say?"

"He told me to send it directly to him when I am done, without needing to go through Ethan."

A long while later, Mark finally responded. This time the message was more concise, but Lucien could feel the palpable excitement radiating through every single word: "Congratulations. I knew you could do it."

Lucien smiled softly and slipped the phone back into his pocket. The night wind blew past, carrying with it the crisp chill of autumn. He pulled the collar of his jacket up high and walked briskly toward the bus stop. Inside his head, brilliant ideas for the collection were continuing to blossom. But more important than anything else, he had obtained exactly what he needed: the genuine attention of Damian Thorne.

"000," he called out softly as he stepped onto the bus.

[Hmm?]

"I think I have figured out a way to get closer to him without needing to bump into him ever again."

[What is it?]

"It is to make it impossible for him to ignore me. Not through clumsy little tricks, but through my own sheer competence. He is the general manager; he values competence above absolutely everything else. Once I prove that I am of value, he will come seeking me out on his own."

[That actually sounds quite effective. But you need to watch out for Ethan. If he finds out you bypassed him to send it straight to Damian, he will absolutely lose his mind.]

"Well, I am just waiting for him to lose his mind. Once he loses his composure, he will make a mistake. And when that time comes, I will show him exactly what it means to turn the tables."

The bus rolled forward through the dead of night, carrying Lucien back to his small apartment. But tonight, he did not feel as exhausted as he usually did. He felt as though he had just won a small skirmish, with a much grander battle waiting for him just ahead.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!