Immoral System 239 Errand Boys 1

Even though he wore a nice white b.u.t.toned-up shirt and a pair of black slacks, immaturity still reeked of his body. Which maybe could have been lessened if it was not for the stupid red cap on his head.

The cap was even pulled down to hide half of his features.

It was around ten am in the morning.

The museum was quite popular hence there were already a few visitors this early.

Some of them looked over to him.

And all of these people were shocked to find the curator of the museum bowing down respectfully to the odd boy.

"Who is he?"

One of the madams in a fashionable get up whispered in a low voice to the other ladies in their forties.

Apparently, these middle-aged ladies came together to enjoy some great works of art in this reputable place.

The rest of the madams and those also near them looked at the subject of their curiosity.

The one who sated it was a staff dressed in a neat black suit with a red tie on.

"He's our museum's prized appraiser."

"So young!" One of them exclaimed in surprise.

Another asked with a skeptical look put on.

"Are you sure someone that young is okay to trust with valuable works of arts? How can you all be sure that his appraisals are correct."

The amiable-looking staff who was in his early thirties smiled and proudly said,

"We a.s.sure you that all of our appraisers are masters. Mr. Jones too. He only looked young. But actually, he has accomplished many feats that not even those working for thirty years in the field would be able to match."

"Eh? Wait? Did you say Mr. Jones? The one who is said to be the chief appraiser of the B Empire's royal family? The one who has unearthed a very priceless artifact of our country just this recently? What do you call that golden boat again?"

"You are correct, it is unearthed from one of our country's island and it is made out of pure gold. Several thousand-year-old jars, sculptures, inscriptions, and earth wares are inside it, which made up almost seventy percent now of our collections. And that boat is called by him as..."

For a while the staff paused, feeling embarra.s.sed, he coughed before continuing with a voice that was almost trailing off, "... Boom boom boom treasure boat...."

Awkward silence took over for a while. The reason for that silence nonchalantly entered his office which was only five or so steps from the entrance.

After looking around a bit and checking that nothing got tampered in his personal s.p.a.ce, he went to his own chair and propped up both his legs on the table.

The action was so rude and mannerless. Thankfully, only he was inside of the place since none of the curators or manager had gone in to bother him to work.

"So annoying..."

He complained, sulking after remembering what he heard from the group earlier.

He was not bothered that his qualifications as an appraiser were questioned.

He more hated that his naming sense made those people quiet.

What was wrong with naming a golden boat with that?

When he discovered it two years ago, there were some holes in it which suggested that it could have been a small battleship. That's what made him decide to register this huge artifact under that name. Those big round holes which would have no problem fitting in a few barrels.

Of course, it was weird since it was questionable if that d.a.m.n boat or ship could even float in the ocean.

But he didn't care. All he cared for when he found it was that there were missing cannons on its side.

Who was the genius who stole those away, disregarding the precious items inside?

It must be someone who loved explosions just as much as he does, right?

He wondered endlessly since then. And even wanted to meet that thief in order to exchange insights and ideas about the craft of creating explosions.

Welp, back to reality.

"Leo, h.e.l.lo."

A bearded man came in which prompted the big boy to stop thinking of childish and irrational thoughts.

He now looked like a kid caught doing something mischievous when he hurriedly brought down his legs on the floor and sat on his chair with straightened back.

A few seconds after, he realized his blunder again. Pale-faced he stood up and bowed down.

"Leo Jones always at your service!"

Another second later, he realized the newcomer had his left brow raised.

The young man gingerly removed the cap on his head, revealing a good looking face that would mature into the national husband type after a few more years.

The young man's countenance showed rigidness though. Like an employee caught by his employer slacking off or watching something NSFW while it was officer hours.

And he looked very wary or perhaps, mindful of the reaction of the person who just came in.

"You're looking good." The other nodded in approval.

Leo, the bomber kid of yesteryears sighed in relief.

But then the bearded middle-aged man dressed in a white shirt and black slacks hidden underneath his long white coat suddenly added,

"Your posture earlier suggested that you want more work. You looked so relaxed as if life has been very good to you."

His face paled again. It used to be only his speech and clothes, now even his sitting posture was to be nitpicked?

Alright, that was not the really the alarming matter.

'Is he going to make me run errands again? He told me it's my day off today. d.a.m.n! Why did I unluckily get caught by him three years ago? If it weren't for that, I would not feel so d.a.m.ned and miserable every single day!'

Of course, he didn't say these thoughts out loud or else the d.a.m.nable clone before him would surely beat the c.r.a.p out of him.

Though unwilling to bow down to a mere clone, Leo relented. This old geezer should feel thankful that he was stronger than him, or else, he'd be the one making him lower his head.

"You must be thinking badly of me in your little head."

"I don't dare," the kid continued to the being in his mind, 'I don't dare say the truth, of course. I love my life!'

"Whatever. It's showing on your face. Kiddo, if you want to deceive me, try learning some Acting and Eloquence skills first, then try. Anyway, that's not what I go here for."

The man paused for a while to check the decors and painting in the wide and comfy office. He nodded upon seeing an artwork there. It depicted a starry sky. At least half of it did.

The clone felt like it was something which Fred would surely love to gaze at in his free time.

Shortly, the bearded man returned his eyes to the tall and lanky young man before him. He felt like laughing because this kiddo's features were slowly coming out and maturing, yet the brain inside the skull did not show any signs of maturity. Why does this seventeen-year-old young man want to pretend like a kid forever?

"No worries. The task this time won't make you break into a cold sweat. You only need to secretly guard Host 137 and make sure she won't come into any harm."

"Eh?" Leo met the older man's eyes and widened his eyes. "Isn't she old enough and strong enough to guard herself?"

"Well, she is. So your main mission is actually to just lurk around, help out in secret if something comes up that she can't handle, and then report to me if it's beyond your level."

Leo fell silent. '... It sounds a lot of work...' The seventeen-year-old host might be slightly childish, but he had a fully functional brain. If that woman was not in trouble, why would the d.a.m.nable father send him to her?

"Until when?"

"Until I summoned you back, of course. Also, while you're at it, help check one of the patients in Central Convalescence Center, her name is Alda."

"Alda? What's her surname?"

Resigned to fate, Leo suppressed the pout that almost broke out and asked.

If he had to check on someone, it would be hard to do it only by the first name.

Who knows how many Aldas were in this world? And even if there was only one Alda in that mental hospital, he still had to make sure he got the correct person. Asking the system was the surest way.

"Alda Dimatrionez, the newest addition to our ranks. Someone pretending to be insane all these years. And is freshly contracted by an immoral AI."

Leo Jones did not get what was so special with a newbie. But since it was a matter which caught that madman's attention, he had no choice but check it out.

"Okay. I'll do it now."

"Wait." Before the young man could leave by teleportation, the bearded clone told him not to go yet.

"Yes?"

With a cough, the older guy said, "Give me that painting behind your chair. I'll present it to our boss."

Leo robotically looked back only to see his favorite painting which was the only masterpiece so far about bombs that he had found.

The great unwillingness that blatantly showed on the kiddo's face did not escape Fred's clone's notice.

He crossed his arms and impatiently said,

"I'm referring to that one which has a starry night background! Give it to me now!"

"... You must be mistaking this one for something greater. I indeed know of a great painting called The Starry Night which is known as one of the best art examples of Post-Impressionism. It has quite the backstory which I think has greatly helped in making that amazing doodle of colors and lines have a sky-high price and fame. The one which painted it is also a very famous dude, famous for being crazy but talented. Sadly, that painting is not in our museum. But no worries, within a day I would be able to get my hands on it and deliver it to you."

A single click of the tongue resounded after his slightly lengthy explanation.

When the bomber who was now part-timing as this place's appraiser saw the kind of face the devil bearded man was giving him, his eyes teared up.

But in the end, he had to swallow the bitterness he was feeling inside and part with his favorite bomb-themed painting.

What an unlucky sunny day...

...

...

FallenBlue: Please, say no to piracy.

Link: https:///book/12734433505930905/The-Sinners'-Queen