Chapter 60: New Quest and Summons—for what?

[New Side Quest Unlocked: Survive the First Full Moon!

Reward: 500 Reward Points

Penalty for Failure: System Temporary Shutdown]

His meat was already burning, but Neville didn’t care. He slapped the ’off’ switch on the stove without taking his eyes off the absolutely ridiculous notification.

"A penalty?" he spat, voice full of disbelief. "And what the hell is this ’full moon’ crap?"

Just then, with a sparkle and dramatic flair, Shelly appeared mid-air like an overly enthusiastic fairy godmother straight out of a fairytale.

[Allow me to explain, dear host.]

She flicked her wrist and conjured a holographic display. It appeared right beside her. She even pulled out digital glasses that resembled Neville’s glasses and mimicked how Neville presented his proposal before, as if giving a lecture.

[This may be an ABO world, as you already know, but it doesn’t mean evolved humans are the only ones living in this universe.]

"Right," Neville said, rubbing his temple, frowning. "Interstellar era—there should be monsters, aliens, maybe a few mermaids like me or fantasy creatures roaming around."

"So far, I haven’t encountered a single other creature other than ABO dynamics." He squinted. "But what does that have to do with me?"

Shelly swiped open another screen, this time showing the twin moons of Xylos.

[Most planets in this world have two or more moons. The rare single-moon planets are usually inhabited by nomadic humans and hybrid humans. ]

She then popped up another image, pointing to her left.

[First, the Nomad Humans—they were people who refused and never evolved into an ABO structure. They hate mixing with outsiders, aliens—basically old-fashioned earthlings, though they’re not quite the same, having survived the early era.]

[Second, the Hybrid Humans—descendants of humans who once, ahem, mingled with aliens. The later generations returned to human society, though traces of alien blood still linger, so ABO evolution was inevitable.]

Then she floated to her right, and a dramatically different chart appeared.

[And then there are the aliens—or should I say, supernatural beings. Some of them were the ones you read about in children’s books and myths. Vampires, shape-shifters—you name it. There’s a whole list, but you can check the full version in your manual later. It should be somewhere in the system menu or something, it’s there for sure.]

She made another screen pop right in front of her. A colorful, glittering version of the Milky Way galaxy appeared in front of them.

[This is the Imperial Galaxy, where Planet Xylos is located. They welcome everyone to live here! So it became a haven for all species. However, being an Imperial Galaxy, they naturally have heavy, heavy political problems.]

You mean there were other fantasy creatures here, too? Neville exclaimed to himself, clearly baffled at this revelation. He subconsciously thought of which of his co-workers were the other aliens.

With a graceful spin, she made the screens vanish—complete with imaginary sparkles and a shimmering sound effect Neville swore he could hear without actually hearing it.

[Anyway, that’s just the gist of it.] She floated closer until she was right in front of his face, voice dropping with playful drama.

[The real point is—]

She smiled, eyes gleaming mischievously.

[As a quasi-member of the alien community, you, my dear host, will soon experience the one thing every human in this interstellar era dreads—]

She paused, savoring the suspense.

[The estrus period.]

Neville blinked. Then his face went blank.

"...I’m sorry, what?"

After recovering for a bit, Neville almost rolled his eyes at Shelly’s grand entrance. Honestly, the dramatic pose, the glowing lights were a bit much.

He wasn’t that ignorant of what she was talking about. After all, as one of the few men who actually enjoyed reading BLs, he knew a thing or two about ABO worlds. Maybe not as excessively as Hana, but enough to get the gist.

Shelly, unbothered by his lack of enthusiasm, went on, [I’m just saying this, host, since I don’t have the exact information at hand.]

Neville blinked. "Wait—hold on. You mean... You don’t know it either?"

Her pout deepened. [Well, I know it has something to do with the estrus period and the twin moons! Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you later when it happens!]

He sighed, hands raised in surrender. "Alright, alright. I won’t blame you, okay? But since Xylos has twin moons, how can it even have a full moon?"

Shelly tilted her tiny body, as if the question annoyed her. [Isn’t it the eclipse? I don’t know which one, but that’s the point—it’s an eclipse.]

Neville froze.

Right. Of course. Eclipse.

He felt stupid for even asking.

Then another thought struck him. "Wait—what about the penalty? I barely even use the system aside from fulfilling requests, earning points, and spending them."

[Exactly, hmph!]

Shelly put on an expression that looked like a furious little manager placing both nonexistent hands on her nonexistent hips.

[The system can’t punish you the normal way since you hardly rely on it. They can’t threaten what you don’t use! So now, they’re targeting me! Shutting me down for—who knows for how long!]

Neville’s brows furrowed thoughtfully. "Right... since I usually search for you most of the time."

Her pout instantly disappeared. She puffed her chest proudly, glowing with satisfaction.

[Of course you do! You rely on me because I’m the best guide ever!]

Neville smiled faintly, though his thoughts drifted elsewhere. If there were fantasy beings as aliens, this full moon thing would seem to be in line with those vampire–werewolf novels nonsense.

Damn. Maybe he should’ve read more ABOs or at least expanded his genre. From what he remembered, there were omegas, alphas, betas... this full moon couldn’t be that hard, right?

He had no idea how wrong he was. When the time came, he would regret brushing this half-baked information off and continuing life as usual.

...

Days after winning the competition, Neville officially became a permanent employee. That meant he had to take on more work and responsibilities than before.

More work meant more points.

And more points meant more new recipes to try.

He was practically glowing these days, busy tinkering in the pantry whenever he got the chance. Everything was going well—until his gaze drifted up, and there it was again.

Grayson.

Staring at him from behind the glass wall of his executive office.

Again.

Every time Neville looked up, their eyes would meet—and every single time, Grayson would immediately look away.

At first, Neville thought it was a coincidence. But now? Even the entire department had noticed.

Sarah came over after seeing the latest exchange. She leaned in, whispering discreetly, "It’s been days. Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two?"

Neville gave her a helpless smile. Like hell I know?!

They chatted a bit longer before Iris walked up to them and said, "Mr. Maxwell is looking for you."

Neville blinked, staring at Iris in genuine disbelief. "He... what now?"

Sarah’s eyes widened, concern written all over her face. "Are you finally having a showdown?"

He could only shrug, resigned. "Gotta go when I gotta go."

With that, he straightened his uniform and headed for the executive room. Inside, he was greeted by the all-too-charming, fox-like grin of Bryan. Clearly, the chief secretary was delighted by his appearance.

Great. Trouble. What’s this guy scheming now?

He really should’ve thought harder about it before stepping in—because if Bryan was smiling like that, something ridiculous was about to happen.

"I called you here to talk about something important," Grayson said, sitting behind his desk, trying hard to look serious, looking... elsewhere.

Try saying that while actually looking at me, you bastard.

"Ehem," Bryan cleared his throat, taking over the explanation with smooth ease. "Some people in the department have expressed concern about you, Mr. Hope."

Concerned? Who? Sarah? Iris? Ethan? Wait—Ethan’s not even in the department anymore...

Neville’s mind spun as Bryan continued.

"Apparently," Bryan began, looking slightly awkward, "your scent keeps... changing."

Neville blinked. "...My what?"

"At first," He then leaned in just a little, continuing, "they thought your pheromones were leaking. Said it was sweet. But later, it turned... savory. So, they assumed you were seeing someone with savory pheromones."

Neville’s lips parted, confused.

"But then," Bryan went on, "it changed again. This time, it was salty. So they thought maybe... several Alphas were involved?"

Neville’s head snapped up. Wait—what?!

Bryan coughed into his fist, trying to look professional. "But no one was actually uncomfortable about the scent. In fact, it was... pleasant. So they finally concluded that the other party might’ve been an Omega."

Neville’s slightly tilted head began to straighten up, his eyes widening. That’s just absurd, why? Was it...

He folded his arms, turning serious. "So, Mr. Hope... with all these rumors floating around—can you clarify what’s going on?"

Neville desperately tried to stop his mouth from twitching.

These alien guys—seriously? He thought, shaking his head slightly in exasperation. You’ve got noses sharp enough to sniff someone’s pheromones, perfume, and mood, but you’ve never smelled proper food before?

He slightly turned his gaze away from Bryan and Grayson, trying to hide his expression.

Right... I can’t exactly tell them it’s my almighty system providing me ingredients, can I? Not when more than half those ingredients don’t even exist here.

Then, an idea hit him—a way to kill two birds with one stone.

Maybe if I just find the interstellar equivalents of my ingredients and go public with the recipes, no one will suspect anything. Yeah—just call it "culinary research."

Neville cleared his throat, lips curling into a faint, confident smile.

"I’ve been... researching food since my vacation. Found quite a few interesting recipes. Maybe some of the scent stuck with me after cooking."

Bryan’s eyes lit up like a kid spotting a dessert tray.

So all that dramatic buildup—was just for me to mention food, huh?

Neville nearly rolled his eyes, but stopped himself—mainly because Grayson was finally looking at him properly.

Their gazes met. Grayson’s silver eyes softened—barely—and he reached into his drawer.

"I found this in the hotel room."

He set something on the desk.

Neville’s breath hitched.

What is that knife doing here?

His retractable Damascus portable knife sat gleaming under the office lights. How—oh crap, I dropped it there!

Grayson picked it up, studying the handle and the blade with curious interest.

"The others it wasn’t theirs, and I haven’t seen one with a quality like this before," he said, voice calm and low. "Only the worn-out versions in antique collections."

Wait, what do you mean by antiques?! Are Damascus knives extinct now?! Oh no—oh no no no—how am I supposed to explain this?!

Panic rose in his chest, but Neville kept his face perfectly neutral.

Grayson leaned back slightly, eyes never leaving him—sharp, unreadable, observing intently. He was clearly enjoying how rattled he was.

Neville’s spine tingled with cold sweat.

This guy’s enjoying this, isn’t he?

His gaze darted sideways—and there was Bryan, standing behind Grayson, frantically gesturing. Pointing at his mouth. Mouthing something.

Neville squinted.

...Cookies?

Oh, right. Mick took the last batch from the office. Neither of them has gotten any food since the competition.

Wait—don’t tell me. Neville’s eyes twitched slightly at the annoying hunch. Don’t tell me they called me here just for—

You’ve got to be kidding me. He stared at them and realized. Did they just call me here... to get some food?

After a moment of heavy deliberation, Neville sighed and asked, slowly, "Would you... Like me to send over some of the food I made? Perhaps... cookies?"

Sure enough, Bryan’s face instantly brightened up. He looked like he had just been freed from suffering.

And Grayson?

That bastard... was smiling.