Chapter 21: Walking Among Humans

Often, people know they shouldn’t just observe things on the surface; after all, miracles do exist in this world.

Yet most of the time, people trust their first feelings and what they see at first glance.

Turning a company with only one hundred Sol in registered capital into a group corporation… such things aren’t impossible, but it seems unlikely for such a small company.

Vera felt a bit upset by her husband’s indifference, as this was the place she was about to work, but she didn’t show it, seeming to accept his sarcastic remarks.

Some women shout for equality and walk the streets topless, while others stay at home, obedient to their husbands.

Later that evening, after dinner and putting the child to sleep, Vera, dressed in silk pajamas, returned to the bedroom.

Maybe because of the young man’s influence, her mood and body chemistry felt unusual—her body temperature was about half a degree higher than usual.

Leaning against the headboard, flushed, she turned to her husband and reached out to greet him, but he put his book on the nightstand, glanced at her sideways, and lay down. “I’m tired. Let’s sleep.”

Her hopes were instantly extinguished like cold water; her expression stiffened, and the heat in her face quickly faded.

After a few seconds of silence, she nodded, lay down, pulled the thin blanket over, sighed deeply, and fell asleep.

Early next morning, her husband drove off to work. After seeing him leave, she felt a bit lost. Over these years…

She only knew her husband’s workplace and vague details of his job. He never shared more, and she never pressed.

After sending their child to school with the maid, she hurried to the firm. After discussing matters with management, they called Lynch to arrange a face-to-face meeting to finalize things.

Lynch arrived quickly. Seeing him, Vera couldn’t help but smile, recalling his compliments from yesterday.

This was common—without accountants, businesses couldn’t effectively reduce operating costs, like tax avoidance. Lawyers couldn’t handle it; only accountants could.

So business owners often flatter accountants with compliments about their youth and looks, but Lynch’s praise felt different, making her genuinely happier.

After signing the contract, the firm’s manager looked it over with satisfaction and had the secretary file it.

“Mr. Lynch, do you have a preferred candidate?” the manager asked, handing him a pure-colored Koluve—a slender, spindle-shaped blue consumable.

Unlike tobacco, this wasn’t for smoking. Usually, it’s enjoyed by savoring its unique flavor in the mouth, providing greater satisfaction than cigarettes.

Some do inhale it, risking elevated blood pressure and rapid heartbeat, but despite the risks, it has two varieties.

One mixed with tobacco—colored and cheaper, suitable for inhaling.

The other, like the pure blue one Lynch held, cannot be inhaled and is only appreciated by tasting its aroma, offering pleasures ordinary people cannot enjoy.

A single pure blue Koluve costs about twenty Sol—not the best, but not the worst.

Curious, Lynch cut the ends and took a few puffs from a ceramic female figure-shaped torch on the table, nodding approvingly.

A rich aroma exploded in his mouth, like smoke filled with surprising tiny spheres that burst and released complex flavors—a magical experience.

He squinted slightly, a faint pleasure washing over him, thinking this is why people work hard—to afford such delights.

“Ms. Vera, I’ve met her once and know her relatively well. If her work history is largely error-free…” Lynch shrugged, exhaling smoke, “then why choose someone I don’t know?”

No accounting firm admits their affiliated accountants have major audit mistakes; it ruins their reputation. Besides, Ms. Vera hasn’t made such errors.

Minor issues like misreporting a few Sol are trivial to professionals who can easily correct them in the next accounting cycle.

So, Ms. Vera has no problems.

The manager nodded, pressed a phone button, and the blue light turned on. “Have Ms. Vera come to my office now.”

Within a minute, after two knocks and permission, Vera entered.

She glanced at Lynch, who met her look briefly before looking away.

The manager couldn’t imagine the unusual nature of their exchange, and even if he noticed, he wouldn’t understand it.

“Mr. Lynch signed a three-year contract and specifically requested you as the accountant for the Great Empire Company. If you have no objections…” The manager looked at Vera, signaling her to accept.

This job was easy; no one expected a company with only one hundred Sol capital to be busy. Even if it was a shell company for hidden enterprises, activity would be minimal.

The tax bureau and banks scrutinize accounts carefully, so all books would be reasonable and legal, meaning long periods of leisure for Vera—ideal for women, according to most men.

Men generally think women are suited for simple, light work without heavy physical or mental labor—like being good at childbirth or preparing for it.

Vera hesitated, glanced at Lynch, whose gaze stirred something in her.

It wasn’t intense or cold, but a mild warmth—neither hot nor cold.

Most people dislike such looks, but some like it—such as stable homemakers uninterested in proving themselves.

After a pause, she nodded. “I’m willing.”