【Interstellar Contract Magician】Ruyuanke

If he really understood everything about me, that would be the most dangerous moment.

Now, he sees me as just another of his kind, one who hasn't quite bared his full potential yet. He underestimates me, and overestimates his own control. He wants to manipulate my every move with lust and power, but he doesn't understand that I'm not motivated by those desires.

I know he can do anything for desire, but I can't.

It's not because I'm nobler than he is, but because I have my own standards. He might see that standard as weakness, a lack of greed, the naiveté of a "greenhorn." But it's that boundary that allows me to retain a little bit of myself and prevents me from becoming the "tool" he envisions me to be.

I know better than he does what my desires are; I understand better than he does where my bottom line is.

So, he and I are destined to be different.

The nightingale may never understand that I choose to devour because I truly want to escape control, not to become addicted. I pursue growth to gain the right to refuse, not to plunder without limit. My desire is not just to obtain, but to control my own destiny.

It is not the freedom used for temptation as he said, but real freedom.

In the end, he himself didn't believe what he said.

He doesn't understand me, but it's a good thing he doesn't understand me.

Looking at the new optical computer on my wrist, I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Lingzhi"—a brand new identity. New male, 24 years old, adult, junior C-rank exotic beast breeder, member of the Shadow Mist intermediate mercenary team… They even gave me the title of senior mercenary.

"High-ranking mercenary?" I whispered, a mixture of recollection and mockery. It was ridiculous, Nightingale seemed to have such "trust" in me. I wondered if he was deliberately flattering me, or if he was playing a game I couldn't fathom.

I stroked the screen of my new optical computer with my fingertips, checking the false information, and a complex emotion arose in my heart - absurd, but real.

I wasn't originally part of this world. This body, this identity, held no trace of my own. And now... "Ayaeda" seemed to be the only sense of existence I could grasp. This name, this identity, gave me a vague sense of belonging.

But "senior mercenary"? That's too much of a compliment.

I turned my wrist and lightly tapped the words "Senior Mercenary" on the laptop with my fingertips. It was absurd, ridiculous, yet somehow subtly tempting. Even though I knew it was just a lie wrapped in a glamorous package, I couldn't help but wonder—what would it be like if, one day, I could truly become a "Senior Mercenary"?

I was silent for a while and finally closed the screen.

I'll wear this hat for now. Whether it's real or fake, whether it's suitable, time will tell. But before that, what I need is an opportunity, a chance to "grow." After all, in this game of devouring desire, without growth, there's only the possibility of elimination.

After school, I was walking aimlessly until I passed a pet shop. The sight in the window stopped me in my tracks—a little gray and white mouse was running vigorously on a roller. Its chubby body moved up and down with the rotation of the roller, looking both ridiculous and pitiful. Its little claws were grabbing the roller quickly, as if it would be thrown out if it didn't.

I stood by the window, staring at it for a long time. The little mouse ran so hard, but there was no way it could escape the wheel, let alone the tiny glass cage. Suddenly, I felt as if my own shadow was reflected in those sparkling little eyes—the same running.

"I want this mouse and its wheel." I said to the clerk, my voice soft but firm. The clerk was stunned for a moment, but still quickly put the mouse and the wheel into a small box and handed it to me.

Back at my place, I placed the mouse on the table, installed its wheels, and watched it expertly crawl in before resuming its endless run. I leaned back in my chair, chin propped up, and watched it quietly.

It ran so hard that its claws even made a tiny sound, but the wheel kept turning in the same place, trapped in this small space along with its world.

"Hey, little guy, do you think you can get out if you run fast enough?" I asked it in a low voice, with a hint of mockery and a little pity in my voice.

Of course it didn't answer me, it just kept running, running as if the whole world was just its little roller.

I suddenly laughed, a little bitterly.

The little mouse running in the wheel, me watching it from outside the cage, and the new identity of the "senior mercenary" on the computer screen, all seem to be like the wheel - no matter how hard they try, they cannot escape the trajectory of fate.

How ironic.

I took the mouse and its "whole world" directly to Mercenary Street, and sure enough, I saw Nightingale.

"You really have nothing to do, hanging around here all day long." I teased him directly.

He raised an eyebrow and looked at the mouse in my hand. I handed him the scroll wheel and said, "This is for you." He continued to raise his eyebrow, as if waiting for my explanation.

"I think it has the potential to become a strange beast. You can keep it first and treat it as an investment." I said nonsense.

Nightingale took the wheel and watched the little mouse running happily. The corners of his mouth twitched: "You are really a bit like me."

"How is he like you?" I pretended to squint my eyes and looked him up and down. "Like your idleness, or like your shortness and mediocrity?"

"Like my intelligence, patience, and... potential." He raised his hand and tapped the wheel's frame lightly with his index finger, a look of "you don't understand" on his face. "But, this little thing is really interesting."

"Of course it's interesting." I put on a serious face and tapped the scroll wheel with my finger. "Look, how hardworking it is. It has a clear goal and keeps running forward. It never slacks off."

"Yeah, running forward all the time, but not going anywhere." He smiled meaningfully, placed the roller on the table, and slid his fingers around the edge of the roller. "Who does it look like?"

I was too lazy to respond to his teasing and turned to leave. But I heard him lazily say behind me: "Kid, you know, raising this thing is not cheap. How about you pay some upfront fees for raising it?"

I stopped and turned to look at him. "It's okay. You'll find a way. After all, compared to it, aren't you the one with more potential?"

He was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter and pushed the roller back: "Keep it, this kind of thing is more suitable for you."

Looking at the roller on the table and the persistent little mouse, I smiled, picked them up, and took back my "world".

To whom?