Arknights: The Holy Son's Leisurely Life — Chapter 7

Chapter 7: No Male MommiesYou're reading this on the wrong site. This chapter was translated by Elysian Reads and posted for free at elysianreads.com — if you're seeing it anywhere else, it was copied without permission. Read it at the source so the people who actually did the work get the credit.

By the time Lucian wheeled his mobile stall back to the storefront, Croissant was just wiping down the last of the tables, getting ready to close up. For all her unreliability, the girl knew how to hustle when it counted, which made his life significantly easier.

The second she spotted him, she flashed a bright thumbs-up and a playful wink. “Big Brother Lucian is right on time! Ten more minutes and I would have assumed you were kidnapped. I had my finger hovering over the dial pad, fully prepared to report your disappearance to the Lungmen Guard Department’s resident blonde tigress!”

“Missing after a few hours, my foot.” Lucian chuckled, stepping behind the counter to help her finish the cleaning.

Croissant puffed out her cheeks, her tone turning deadpan. “I am completely serious. That loud police officer actually left her private number with Texas and me. She told us to notify her the second you did anything suspicious, no twenty-four-hour waiting period required. She specifically said that if you and Exusiai ever go missing at the same time, we have to call her immediately!”

‘Is she a stalker?’ Lucian paused, mildly shocked.

The dignified Senior Superintendent of the Lungmen Guard Department, one of the city’s wealthiest capitalist heiresses, Miss Swire, was spending an awful lot of time tracking the movements of a common citizen. He did not exactly mind her aggressive advances, but bribing the people around him crossed into dangerous yandere territory.

And why single out Exusiai? It made it sound like he only ever snuck off for secret rendezvous with the energetic Sankta. She was underestimating his schedule. He had just finished a secret rendezvous with her own Madam Ch’en today.

Lucian hummed a smug little note to himself. “Croissant, you wouldn’t actually sell me out, would you? Are you on Miss Swire’s side or mine?”

“I am Big Brother Lucian’s most loyal subordinate, obviously!” She leaned in, shamelessly hugging his arm against her side. “I know the difference between a one-time payout and a lifetime meal ticket. So I sold Miss Swire’s phone number to an information broker! The private contact of a beautiful Guard Department officer fetches a premium price on the market!”

Lucian stared at her. “That is crossing a line. Do not come crying to me when she kicks down the door to interrogate you.”

No one in Penguin Logistics was normal. It was no wonder Ch’en considered the entire company a massive headache.

They locked up the shop and walked home, passing under the exhausted, envious stares of the local corporate slaves finishing their grueling shifts. To save on rent, the Penguin Logistics crew shared a youth apartment. Three bedrooms, one living room, two bathrooms. As the sole guy, Lucian naturally took the smallest room.

The second the front door clicked shut, Croissant flopped onto the sofa to read a magazine. Lucian sighed, automatically shifting into mother-hen mode as he picked up her carelessly discarded shoes, socks, and uniform jacket from the floor.

He glanced over at her. She was wearing nothing but a tight tank top and shorts, her legs propped up over the armrest like a giant white fish drying in the sun. He seriously wondered if she had forgotten her own gender, or at least the fact that she lived with a man.

‘Then again, I do not exactly get turned on by bread,’ he reasoned with himself, hanging her coat on the rack.

He headed into the kitchen, pulling fresh ingredients from the fridge. “Go check if Texas is awake. Tell her it is time to eat.”

“No way.” Croissant rolled over on the cushions. “Texas operates on a natural wake-up cycle. If she does not get her full twelve hours, she turns into a monster. Her eyes literally look like they want to slice you open!”

“That is just because she has low blood pressure in the mornings. But you have a point, let her sleep.”

Texas was a creature of the night. She usually spent the early hours of the morning dealing with underground arms dealers, so sleeping until dusk was her normal routine. Exusiai was still out, and the boss was off doing her own thing. Dinner was just the two of them.

Croissant devoured the meal like a starving vacuum cleaner. She inhaled three massive servings in the blink of an eye, completely tuning out Lucian’s lectures about chewing her food.

“I live for this!” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, flashing another wink as she grabbed a heavy bag of inventory. “I was put on this earth to eat Big Brother Lucian’s cooking! Anyway, I am off to set up my night stall. Thanks for the food!”and support the real translator.Read at elysianreads.com This is a stolen translation. You're reading this on the wrong site. This chapter was translated by Elysian Reads and posted for free at elysianreads.com — if you're seeing it anywhere else, it was copied without permission. Read it at the source so the people who actually did the work get the credit.

“Wipe your mouth with a napkin. Put your bowl in the sink. Do not go running around on a full stomach, and stop swinging your hammer indoors…” Lucian sighed as the front door slammed shut. “Completely ignored me.”

Croissant ran a side hustle selling trinkets and scavenged goods at a night market. Some of it was legal, some of it was highly questionable, but she had a supernatural talent for dodging the Guard Department patrols.

“Could she not act a little more like a lady? Always stripping off her clothes the second she gets home.”

Lucian complained to the empty room, but his hands kept moving. He picked up the loungewear she had tossed aside to change into her street clothes, the fabric still warm from her body heat. He sorted the laundry by color, washed the dishes, and packed the leftovers into the fridge. Then he prepped the dough and fillings for tomorrow’s shop opening.

By the time he finished, the city outside was dark.

“Time to get down to business.” He stretched his shoulders and walked into his tiny bedroom.

The space was barely a bedroom. Aside from a simple mattress, every inch of floor space was dominated by workbenches, tools, and chemical equipment. It was a makeshift armory where he manufactured his own specialized guns and ammunition.

He opened a small medical sterilizer, retrieving an empty IV plasma bag and a fresh disposable needle. Rolling up his sleeve, he swabbed his inner elbow with alcohol and slid the needle into his vein. The motion was fluid, a mechanical habit burned into his muscle memory over the last decade.

The mechanical mixer hummed a quiet, rhythmic beat. Rich, crimson blood flowed down the tube, slowly filling the plastic bag from his arm. It was a strangely hypnotic, almost magical sight.

Knock, knock.

The half-open door swung a little wider. Texas stood in the doorway. She had just woken up, her fluffy wolf ears drooping lazily against her messy hair. She stared blankly at the workbench, her eyes tracking the tube of blood draining from his arm into the bag.

She watched the process for a long, silent moment before speaking. “I’m hungry.”

“Alright, alright. I will heat up some food.” Lucian reached over with his free hand, smoothly withdrawing the needle and pressing a cotton swab to the puncture. He sealed the blood bag and tossed it into a cooler, all with practiced ease.

He walked past her to the kitchen, plating the leftovers and brewing two cups of black coffee. He dumped a double serving of sugar and milk into Texas’s mug.

“…I’m eating.”

The cold Lupo girl accepted the plate without complaint, sitting at the small dining table. She ate with quiet, methodical bites. Lucian sat across from her, sipping his bitter coffee, simply enjoying the quiet atmosphere.

Texas was entirely in her element. She wore an oversized black T-shirt as pajamas, the fabric draping over her frame like a loose dress. The hem barely reached her upper thighs, leaving her pale legs completely exposed. It was an image that left plenty of room for a man’s imagination, and Lucian did not bother looking away, appreciating the view with quiet amusement.

Texas paused, her jaw slowing as she chewed. She looked up, meeting his gaze through her messy bangs.

“…I’m talking to you.” She swallowed the bite of food. “When do you actually rest? You haven’t slept for twenty-four hours.”

[Rhodes’s Note: “996 corporate slaves” refers to the grueling 996 working hour system (working from 9:00 am to 9:00 pm, 6 days a week) common in many high-pressure corporate environments.]You're reading this on the wrong site. This chapter was translated by Elysian Reads and posted for free at elysianreads.com — if you're seeing it anywhere else, it was copied without permission. Read it at the source so the people who actually did the work get the credit.