Chapter 1460
Misato Katsuragi: Oh no, I've become a document tool!
"Ugh...really...what kind of mess is this..."
Misato Katsuragi scratched her head as she looked at the pile of documents.
The pile of documents was so high it obscured her face; they were densely packed with reports awaiting approval, budget requests, and personnel transfer forms. She ran her fingers through her hair, turning her neatly tied ponytail into a bird's nest, her eyes vacant as if her soul had been drained.
Meanwhile, Megumi, who was standing next to her, said, "Good luck. Cui was the one who was reviewing the documents before, but this time you're in charge. We agreed on that beforehand."
Megumi held her teacup, slowly taking a sip, her expression as calm as if she were soaking in a hot spring. The documents in front of her had long been processed, neatly stacked, with even the edges aligned in a straight line.
"Ugh, why isn't Lyndis helping?"
Misato Katsuragi turned her head sharply and pointed her finger at the figure cleaning a gun by the window.
Lindis pointed to herself, her blue eyes shining innocently, with an expression that said, "Are you talking about me?"
"Me? I'm a brute."
"..."
Grass!
Who would believe that?! You bastard!
Misato Katsuragi slammed her pen down, sprang up from her chair, and her ponytail exploded like a dandelion. She pointed at Lindis's nose and began to accuse her, her voice so loud it could lift the ceiling off the building.
"Everyone knows you're the smartest one in the family! Good grief, Cui Ming always thought you didn't have reincarnation memories, but it turns out you do! You wrote those reports perfectly!!!"
Lindis shrugged, slung the sniper rifle over her shoulder, and smiled like a cat that had just stolen a fish.
"That's a combat report. Combat, I'm good at. Documents? Not so."
You're lying!
“I’m not lying.” Lyndis tilted her head, her blue eyes blinking. “The brute is only responsible for shooting, not writing.”
"..."
Misato Katsuragi opened her mouth, unable to speak for a long time.
She turned to look at Megumi, her eyes filled with the sorrow of an abandoned puppy.
Megumi put down her teacup, gently patted her shoulder, and said in a soft but authoritative voice, "Miri, good luck. When Choi was around, he handled all these documents by himself and never complained of being tired. Now that he's on vacation, it's your turn."
"..." Misato Katsuragi lay slumped on the table, her face buried in the documents, her voice muffled, "Why isn't he tired..."
“Because he doesn’t eat, drink, or sleep.” Megumi’s voice softened, tinged with concern. “But you will get tired, you will get hungry, you will get sleepy. So, take it slow, I’ll stay with you.”
Misato Katsuragi looked up at Megumi Kiyama's gentle eyes and suddenly felt that she was being a little pretentious.
She picked up her pen, sat up straight again, and swished her ponytail haphazardly behind her head.
"...Fine, I'll write it then."
"Keep it up." Megumi sat back down opposite her and picked up her teacup again.
Lindis chuckled by the window, but didn't turn around, continuing to clean her gun.
Outside the window, the sun was shining brightly, and the faint sounds of pedestrians on the street could be heard.
Inside the room, there were three women, a pile of documents, a cup of tea, and a sniper rifle.
Misato Katsuragi bit her pen and glared at Lindis.
"You idiot..."
"Ok?"
"When Cui Ming returns, I'm going to file a complaint."
"Sue what?"
"I'm accusing you of pretending to be stupid!"
Lindis turned her head, her blue eyes gleaming with cunning, and smiled so wide her eyes disappeared.
“Go ahead. Let’s see if he believes you or me.” “…”
Misato Katsuragi buried her face back in the documents and let out a long wail.
Choi Myung was unaware that Miri was complaining about the report.
Even if they knew, they wouldn't say anything.
Since Miri has the ability, let her help out more. TPC's document processing, personnel scheduling, and logistical coordination—someone has to manage all these miscellaneous tasks. When Choi Myung was around, he handled the work of three people without batting an eye. Now that Miri is here, it's perfect for sharing the workload.
She'd already taken enough vacations...
In the EVA world, everything related to reports was written by me!
All those battle reports of Angel attacks, NERV supply requests, casualty statistics, even the cafeteria menu adjustments—all of it was typed out by Cui Ming alone, working through the night. What was Misato doing back then? Drinking, taking baths, then throwing parties at her house with Cui Ming, occasionally fighting Angels, and then going back to her vacation afterward. Now that she's at TPC, does she still want to be a hands-off boss? No way.
Now it's time for you to pay off your debts!
Choi Myung leaned back on a bench in the shopping street, holding a cup of hot tea in his hand, a slight smile playing on his lips. He could almost picture Miri groaning on the mountain of documents; the thought of it was quite satisfying.
But speaking of which...
The technologies from the EVA world are now being applied.
For example, N2 explosives started to be manufactured like crazy.
The scientists were working like crazy, digging out the technical blueprints from the EVA world, improving, upgrading, and mass-producing them. TPC's warehouse is now piled high with silver-white metal spheres, each labeled "Improved N2 Detonation Trap," with a 30% increase in power compared to the original, a controllable range, and no radioactive contamination.
Although you can't kill the monster directly, it's enough to annoy it for a long time.
Cui Ming recalled the explosions he had witnessed in the EVA world. When the N2 bomb exploded, the white light engulfed everything, and the shockwave could overturn the Angels. Although it wouldn't kill them, it could leave those behemoths dizzy, staggering, and unable to get up for a long time. The effect should be similar when used to deal with monsters now.
"It doesn't matter if they die from the explosion." Cui Ming put down his teacup and tapped the armrest lightly with his fingers. "If they get stunned, I'll just go up and finish them off."
He stood up, pulled his scarf up a bit, and glanced at the bustling crowd on the street.
N2 explosion, this thing is pretty good.
At least, I won't have to personally rush in and chop things down every time anymore.
First blast it, then chop it.
save trouble.
Cui Ming felt that EDF's tactics were actually fine.
Those guys fundamentally believe in one truth—if something can be solved with artillery shells, they'll never sacrifice human lives. Whether it's a fleet of Star Guides or a super-beast from another dimension, they'll bombard it three times to flatten it before sending ground troops to collect the corpses. Collect what corpses? Slag and ash.
Bomb! Bomb! Bomb again!
Cui Ming leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the table, his mind flashing back to classic EDF battles. Air strike squadrons swarmed in like locusts, missiles trailing white smoke as they crashed down, engulfing the entire battlefield in flames. Only after the smoke cleared did the ground troops leisurely enter, wearing gas masks, stepping over still-hot craters, poking at the wreckage with their gun barrels to confirm they were dead, before taking photos and checking off their list.
Wouldn't it be better to kill the enemy outright than to sacrifice soldiers' lives?
He recalled the practices of those old-school defense forces in the Showa era: elite squad infiltration, individual assaults, heroic sacrifices. Heroic my foot! A dead man is dead. No matter how much compensation is given, no matter how loudly the family cries, that life can't be brought back. The EDF is different. EDF soldiers are incredibly valuable, so valuable that they'd rather burn through a billion yen worth of ammunition than risk the life of a single infantryman.
It's expensive, but so be it...
Anyway, EDF is rich and powerful.
Cui Ming's lips curled into a smile. Those guys controlled inter-world resource channels; gold was measured in tons, energy was inexhaustible, and weapons production lines ran 24/7. The amount of ammunition to blow up a city? Just a day's production capacity. The firepower to burn down a planet? Just a week's budget.
Why trade human lives when money can buy life?
This is the rule of EDF, and it's also the rule that Choi Myung likes.
Simple, straightforward, and effective.
Moreover, I don't feel bad about it. (End of Chapter)