The word escaped Neville’s mouth as an audible squeak. Several heads turned in the hallway, curious eyes fixing on him. Neville quickly devolved into a coughing fit, waving off the concern.

Sarah appeared beside him, patting his back. "You okay, Hope? You don’t look well."

"Fine," Neville wheezed, still coughing. "Just—wrong pipe. Swallowed air. I’m fine."

Sarah didn’t look convinced, but she backed off with a worried frown. "If you’re sick, you should take the rest of the day off. Mr. Maxwell won’t mind."

If only it were that simple.

[You heard me!] Shelly continued, oblivious to his distress. [And before you ask, no, I can’t help you through it. System guides are strictly forbidden from interfering with natural biological processes. You’re on your own, fishy boy!]

’When?’ Neville demanded, already pulling up his calendar on his light brain while walking.

He tried to calculate if paid leave was feasible, how many days he had saved, and whether anyone would question a sudden week-long absence.

[Let’s see...]

Shelly made a show of checking calculations, complete with a tiny holographic calculator.

[The moons achieve perfect syzygy in... oh, about 24 hours. But the early transformation symptoms will start much sooner. Unless you want everyone in the office to know you’re a mermaid, you’d better request that time off. Transformation would begin in about six hours.]

Six hours.

Neville’s fingers flew across his light brain’s interface, pulling up the company’s leave request system. He filled out the emergency form with shaking hands, citing "personal health emergency" and requesting a full week starting immediately.

The application was submitted with a soft chime.

Then came the response:

Request flagged for review. Pending approval from Human Resources.

Neville’s heart dropped.

Usually, standard leave requests were auto-approved if you had the days available. He had accumulated plenty of vacation time. He never took days off unnecessarily. He was practically at work all the time. Therefore, the system should have processed it automatically.

Unless someone’s manually reviewing emergency requests right now.

He frowned at his light brain, sending a follow-up request for the status to change. But it remained stubbornly pending, the little yellow flag mocking him.

Neville couldn’t wait.

If this escalated up the chain, if it required Bryan’s approval or worse, Grayson’s, there would be questions. Questions he couldn’t answer without revealing things. His stomach churned with anxiety.

Only six hours to secure this leave. If he couldn’t...

The thought of experiencing his first full mermaid transformation in public made him want to dive into the nearest body of water and never surface again.

What would happen if he did? Would he collapse on the floor? Would his legs literally transform into a tail right there and then? Would his human form just... fail?

[Host, your heart rate is elevated,] Shelly advised. [Might want to breathe before you pass out.]

’Not. Helping.’

Neville made a decision. He would go to HR directly, explain it was urgent, and get someone to approve the request manually. It was risky, but less risky than transforming in front of hundreds of coworkers.

The HR department occupied an entire floor of the Maxwell Corporation building.

Neville had been there exactly once, and it was during his initial onboarding. The space was open-plan, with individual offices ringing the perimeter for senior HR staff. He navigated the maze of cubicles, following the directory on his light brain.

Leave requests were processed by the Operations section, which meant he needed to find...

Jenna Anderson. Junior Director of HR Operations.

The name meant nothing to him, but the location did. It was a corner office, which suggested either seniority or nepotism. Given the "Junior Director" title, Neville was betting on nepotism.

He found the office easily. It had frosted glass walls, the name etched in elegant script on the door. Through the transparent sections, he could see a woman hunched over her desk, surrounded by holographic displays.

Neville knocked politely, adjusting his glasses and trying to look professional rather than desperate.

"Come in," came the bored response.

He entered, taking in the office’s details. Expensive furniture, personal photos featuring the woman with various Maxwell Corporation executives, and a degree from some prestigious business school hung prominently on the wall.

The woman, according to the nameplate, Jenna Anderson, didn’t look up. She was scrolling through what appeared to be social media feeds, her perfectly manicured nails clicking against the holographic interface.

Neville cleared his throat. "Ms. Anderson? I submitted an emergency leave request about fifteen minutes ago, and—"

"Denied." 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

Her voice was flat, dismissive, and delivered without even a glance in his direction.

Neville blinked. "I’m sorry?"

"Denied," Jenna repeated, still focused on her screens.

Now that Neville looked closer, he realized she was browsing concert ticket sites. A famous male idol group was releasing tickets for their upcoming tour, and Jenna was apparently refreshing multiple vendor pages simultaneously.

"I haven’t even explained the situation," Neville said, keeping his voice level despite the rising panic. "It’s a medical emergency—"

"Don’t care. Denied."

Something hot and sharp flared in Neville’s chest. He had dealt with difficult people before, but this was different. This was someone actively preventing an emergency leave for an emergency situation.

Technically, this was illegal. But considering that this woman was likely a nepo-baby, it was highly likely that she was not scared of the law.

"Ms. Anderson," he said with a firm tone. "I need you to actually review my request right now. On my record, I have more than enough vacation days saved—"

"I said denied." Jenna finally looked up with an annoyed expression. "Do you know how many ’emergency’ requests I get every week? Everyone thinks their little problem is important. But everyone just uses that as an excuse to go to a concert, family dinners, hangovers—."

"But this is a real medical—"

"Prove it." Jenna leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Show me a doctor’s note, a hospital admission, something concrete. Otherwise, you can wait the standard three business days for non-emergency leave approval."

Three business days. Might as well say that you won’t approve it.

Neville’s light brain showed the time: 3:15 PM.

Five and a half hours until the signs appear.

"I can get a doctor’s note," he said, mind racing.

Dr. Zhao in the company infirmary would probably help him, though explaining why he needed emergency leave without explaining his situation would be tricky.

"If I come back with documentation—"

"Doesn’t matter." Jenna had already turned her attention to concert ticket sites. "Requests submitted after 3 PM aren’t processed until the next business day. Company policy."

"That’s—" Neville bit back the curse forming on his tongue. "That’s not an actual policy. I’ve read the employee handbook."

"Well, it’s my policy." Jenna’s smile was fake and annoying. "And since I’m the one who approves or denies these requests, my policy is what matters."

Neville’s hands clenched into fists. At this rate, the transformation would start even sooner, triggered by stress and panic.

"I need to speak to your supervisor," he said, each word carefully said, gritting his teeth.