006
As soon as these words were spoken, Andre, who had been secretly observing Zhi Wei, froze in place.
His sapphire-blue eyes locked onto her, his head tilting slightly as if he had encountered something utterly astonishing. His eyes widened in disbelief.
Zhi Wei wiped her mouth after finishing her meal, propped her elbows on the table, and looked at Andre with a perfectly serious expression.
Though her mind was scheming, her face radiated sincerity.
"I don’t have a campaign team, nor do I have a deputy. Right now, it’s just me—an independent candidate with no organization backing me."
She borrowed terms she had just seen on Andre’s holographic net, summarizing her current situation. After analyzing it, she even nodded to herself.
Exactly! Looked at this way, she was practically riddled with vulnerabilities!
A single poke at any weak spot, and she’d be out of the race immediately. Perfect!
If she could rope in the adorably clueless Andre and have them both put in a futile effort, they could eventually go their separate ways. What could be better?
With that thought, she extended an even more earnest invitation to the blue-eyed man across from her: "If you join me, we’ll be a team of two. That counts as having a campaign team, doesn’t it?"
"Would you be willing to be my deputy?"
Andre pressed his lips together.
He tugged at his tie, and Zhi Wei followed his fingers, only now noticing how tightly fitted his black uniform was.
No wonder she had instinctively thought he looked bulky earlier—it was because he was dressed so formally, with every button at his collar and cuffs fastened securely.
A silver strap ran over his shoulder, looping across his chest and dangling near the hidden pocket on his chest.
Andre hesitated, shrinking back slightly, his earlier confidence fading.
He muttered to himself, "But… my past performance has been terrible."
"I can’t come up with useful policy proposals, I misjudge rally sizes, and none of the previous campaign teams I joined gave me a real role. When interacting with voters, they all said I came across as pretentious…"
"Bulky"—Zhi Wei could see that. But "pretentious"? She thought that was hardly the case.
Compared to the toxic coworkers and nightmare clients she’d dealt with during her 996 grind at the corporate megacompany, was Andre really that pretentious?
Had he ever aggressively demanded things like, "Why are you going to the bathroom? Is your workload too light?" or "Young people sleeping at 1 a.m.? That’s way too early!" or "Asking me about project progress? You must be trying to learn something from me!"
No! Not at all!
On top of that, he was far more attractive than any of those colleagues or clients, and he wasn’t even nagging—just a little full of himself.
So what?
If Zhi Wei looked like him and came from wealth, she’d be even more smug and showy.
So what if he was incompetent? That was exactly what she wanted! A capable deputy? No thanks—she specifically wanted an incompetent one!
Excited by the thought, she softened her tone. "That’s perfect."
"You don’t mind that I’m from a backwater planet, and I don’t mind that you’re not the best at your job. That makes us a team, doesn’t it?" She turned the question back on him.
Andre blinked. His lashes—both upper and lower—were long and curled, fluttering like butterfly wings when he blinked.
The corners of his lips lifted, his gaze slightly lowered, but his chest puffed out as if he had finally found support and confidence.
"I accept," Andre said immediately. "I’ll work my hardest to be your deputy!"
He was so excited that his chest heaved, his eyes sparkling as if he had just accomplished something extraordinary.
But Zhi Wei thought, Just perform as you normally do.
She took a sip of her drink, only to grimace at the taste. Just as she relaxed, a sudden realization struck her.
She hurriedly asked Andre, "Do the hospitals here have vaccines? I need to get vaccinated!"
She had crossed worlds—who knew what infectious diseases this unfamiliar place might have? Since she was already here and still alive, she might as well stay that way.
She had no intention of catching some deadly illness and kicking the bucket!
Andre looked bewildered but obediently led her to a hospital.
Freshly appointed to his role, he was like an overzealous tour guide, driving her around in his hovercraft.
Zhi Wei counted the "donations" she had received, then went with Andre to a trading post to buy herself a budget holographic net—the high-end models were too expensive, and she couldn’t bring herself to splurge.
After getting some basic injections and downing a few immunity-boosting tonics, they finally returned to the hotel.
Since they had just met, Zhi Wei and Andre weren’t very familiar with each other yet. Andre, however, was fully immersed in his new role as deputy.
Eagerly, he contacted the hotel staff and moved his room next to Zhi Wei’s.
Zhi Wei figured it wasn’t a bad idea—it would make communication easier.
More importantly, this way, he could be put to use immediately!
On their way back, she hid behind Andre’s broad, bear-like frame, carefully avoiding the journalists camped outside her door, waiting to interview the so-called "savior."
Slipping into the adjacent room, she finally exhaled in relief.
Turning around, she saw Andre fuming. "How rude of them to ambush you this late at night!"
Zhi Wei shrugged. She didn’t really mind.
She understood their situation. Nobody wanted to be staking out in the middle of the night, but work was work.
Back in her own job, she had pulled all-nighters chasing trending topics online.
If she could have camped outside a viral sensation’s doorstep, she would have done the same.
Nobody loved working—everyone just grumbled through it. She had been no different.
With that in mind, she halted her plan to climb over the balcony railing back to her room.
Already perched on the railing, she swung her legs back and plopped onto Andre’s sofa instead.
"Take some of the money I have left," she told Andre, "and ask the hotel restaurant to send drinks to those reporters."
"Just not the kind I had earlier—that was awful."
Andre’s face scrunched up like a disheveled sheep’s rear. "Huh?!"
He grumbled, "Your donations are meant for rallies, voter outreach, and securing districts! That money is for big things! Why waste it on them?"
Zhi Wei coaxed him, "They’re not here by choice. One word from their bosses, and they’re stuck without food or sleep. A drink is just a small gesture."
"Besides, I got this money out of nowhere. If it’s spent on giving people drinks, doesn’t that count as using it for voters?"
Andre pondered for a moment before suddenly exclaiming, "Right! That makes sense!"
"Media coverage is crucial for us! If we treat them well now, they might return the favor in their future reports!"
He nodded enthusiastically. "This idea of yours is brilliant—really forward-thinking! I get it now. This is what they call a ‘benevolent stratagem’!"
Zhi Wei lifted her hands and buried her face in them, exasperated.
She buried her face in her hands, her voice muffled: "Uh, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I just meant to send them something to drink."
Zhi Wei composed herself and looked up at Andre: "You go. If I go, they’ll just crowd around me."
Her eyes lingered on Andre’s impeccably tailored uniform: "...You do know how to order drinks, right?"
Andre snorted. "Of course!"
With that, he turned and strode off.
Zhi Wei settled back into the couch, quiet and still.
She fidgeted uncomfortably, her fingers hesitantly brushing the spot at the nape of her neck.
Just behind her ear, a finger’s width toward her spine, a tiny chip was adhered to her skin.
—This was the neural interface.
A light tap of her fingertip activated it, allowing her to navigate with her thoughts or summon a holographic display before her.
With a slight motion, a crystalline blue screen materialized at her side.
She toyed with it, resizing the display, zooming in and out, amused despite herself.
Soon, she was scrolling through star-net news, gathering information.
Before long, Andre returned.
He was practically glowing, convinced he’d accomplished something grand under Zhi Wei’s leadership.
"They were completely overwhelmed! They kept praising you—how kind you are, how compassionate, how understanding. They all thanked you for not driving them away."
But after basking in his triumph, Andre grew restless again, muttering under his breath.
"Honestly, we’d like to drive them off, but our campaign team doesn’t even have security officers. How are we supposed to maintain order or ensure safety? We really need to hire at least one or two... Hey, are you even listening?"
He walked over and saw Zhi Wei absorbed in her neural interface. Eagerly, he nudged her. "You should enable quick-pay! Then, the moment you appear in public, people can start transferring donations to you remotely."
Zhi Wei’s fingers twitched.
Absolutely not!
Sure, she’d accepted a few stray cash bills before—small amounts, easy to keep, impossible to return. But opening a direct donation channel? That was practically inviting trouble, like being forced onto a throne she never wanted!
She ignored his suggestion and deliberately changed the subject. "I always thought neural interfaces were implanted. Wouldn’t that be more convenient?"
Andre, easily distracted, took the bait.
"They used to be. But people found it unsettling, so they stopped making that kind."
Zhi Wei mused, "So even here, advanced tech eventually makes humans uneasy..."
Back in her corporate days, she’d worried about AI replacing her. Now, campaigning to become a god, she’d welcome being replaced.
Ah, humans were such complicated creatures.
"Enough overthinking—let’s finalize our plans!" Andre perked up again.
Freshly promoted to deputy, he was buzzing with the enthusiasm of an overeager intern.
Zhi Wei, however, was fighting off drowsiness. When Andre mentioned planning, her mind went blank, but her mouth automatically defaulted to corporate jargon.
"Right, let’s add it to the sprint, run some market research, discuss resource allocation. Remember to prioritize user needs, aim for disruptive innovation, and focus on untapped blue oceans..."
Andre stared at her, horrified.
Zhi Wei jolted upright, realizing this wasn’t some half-asleep weekly meeting.
Clearing her throat, she switched to leader mode. "Alright, Andre, let’s hear your thoughts."
Andre rubbed his face, then hunched over his holographic display, scribbling furiously. He mapped out a timeline down to the minute.
"Today is January 1, 3270," he began, his tone flat.
Zhi Wei arched a brow.
Starting the calendar from the year of a god’s fall—they must have truly revered that fallen deity.
Then again, it made sense. That was where it all began.
Without that god’s demise, there’d be no scattered divinity, no three-thousand-year-long campaign to choose a successor.
Andre kept muttering as he wrote. "Today marks the first day of this cycle’s campaign. January is the preliminary round. On the first of every month after that, the Temple will broadcast elimination matches in full holographic immersion."
He added, almost to himself, "Candidates ranked too low will be disqualified."
Zhi Wei couldn’t contain her delight. "What? That’s perfect!"
Under Andre’s puzzled frown, she hastily corrected course: "I mean... what a fair system! We should follow it properly!"
Yes, they should follow it properly.
They must rank low. They must get disqualified!
