The following morning.
As the early sun filtered through the window panes, casting golden streaks across the room, Shiranui Hayate slowly opened his eyes.
The first thing he did upon waking was the daily sign-in.
[System Notification]
- Sign-in successful. Reward: 30,000 Copper Coins!
Hearing the amount, Hayate remained indifferent. He wasn't particularly strapped for cash at the moment. Not long ago, he had instructed Hotaru to transfer ten million dollars into his account, and he hadn't even bothered converting it into copper coins yet.
Of course, not being in urgent need didn't mean he didn't want more. He preferred his wealth to be as vast as the oceans; after all, even hundreds of millions of copper coins might not be enough to sustain high-level upgrades in the long run.
After rising, washing up, and making himself presentable, Hayate stepped out of his room and headed downstairs.
Since this was a temporary agency converted from a residential building, one had to pass through the lobby's service desk to reach the dining area.
As he walked past the counter, he noticed that Umino Iruka, who usually stood guard there, had been replaced by a striking blonde woman.
Curious, Hayate approached the desk. He looked at the woman—who felt strangely familiar—and spoke.
"And you are?"
"Good morning, Boss," she replied, her voice smooth and professional. "I am Elena Morse."
She offered a polite smile.
"Secretary Hotaru arranged for me to handle the reception and mission registration, taking over the duties previously held by Adjudicator Umino Iruka."
Hayate reached out and briefly shook her slender hand before letting go.
"So you're the one taking over Iruka's work. I'll leave things in your hands then."
Without another word, Hayate turned and headed toward the dining area.
He took a seat at a table, and a server immediately approached with a menu.
"Sir, what would you like this morning?"
Hayate took the menu and skimmed the breakfast page.
"A sandwich and a glass of hot milk. Thank you."
"Please wait a moment!"
The waiter took the menu and departed.
Hayate watched the new faces bustling around the agency. He knew this was all Hotaru's doing, but that woman at the front desk, Elena Morse... the feeling of familiarity wouldn't fade.
He couldn't quite place her. While the faces of Perkins and Barbara Morse were identical, their temperaments and styles were worlds apart. It prevented Hayate from immediately connecting the two in his mind.
Besides, Hayate hadn't had much contact with Perkins before she died under the hotel's judgment. He had long since purged the memory of a dead woman from his thoughts.
The waiter soon returned with a tray.
"Sir, here is your breakfast."
Hayate picked up the sandwich and took a bite. The flavor was surprisingly excellent—far better than anything from a standard restaurant.
Hotaru certainly has an eye for talent.
Though he hadn't tried the other dishes yet, he was confident the chef's skills were top-tier. A simple sandwich was enough to see the caliber of the kitchen.
Before he could finish his meal, his phone began to vibrate.
"Is this Mr. Shiranui Hayate?"
"Speaking."
"This is Happy, Tony's bodyguard. We've met before."
The voice on the other end was hurried.
"Tony asked me to deliver something to you, but it looks like your agency has changed addresses."
At that moment, a large truck pulled up next to the construction site of the old office. Happy Hogan stood by the curb, looking at the temporary Shiranui Hayate Agency sign nearby with a look of confusion.
"Tony sent me something? Fine, I'm coming out now."
Hayate's thoughts immediately went to the Mark I armor. It wasn't time for Paku's dog food delivery yet, and Tony wouldn't dispatch Happy just to run kibble.
He stepped out of the front door and spotted Happy's burly silhouette. He waved him over.
Soon, several workers rolled out a flatbed trolley. Resting on it was a large, rectangular wooden crate, roughly the size of a commercial refrigerator.
Happy walked over, looking around curiously. "Are you rebuilding the whole place, sir?"
Hayate nodded. "That's right, Happy."
As the workers pushed the crate toward them, Happy checked his clipboard.
"Tony said it's fully assembled. Unpainted—'original flavor,' he called it—but he did mention he gave it a good polish."
"Tell Tony I said thanks, Happy."
Hayate gestured toward the door. "Want to come in for a drink?"
Happy shook his head. "I appreciate it, Mr. Hayate, but I'm still on the clock."
"Understood."
Hayate didn't push. Instead, he walked over to the workers. He reached out, gripped the thick wooden frame of the crate with one hand, and lifted it effortlessly.
He turned and carried it toward the agency as if he were carrying a box of tissues.
The three workers manning the trolley stood frozen, their mouths agape. They knew exactly how heavy that crate was; they had used a hydraulic lift just to get it off the truck. That thing weighed nearly 4.5 tons.
Yet, this man had just picked it up with one hand and walked away.
Is he some kind of world-class strongman?
Happy watched Hayate disappear inside, satisfied that the delivery had been signed for, and led his team away.
Inside, at the service desk, Barbara—posing as Elena—watched as Hayate entered carrying the massive crate. She quickly stepped out from behind the counter to assist.
She wasn't just being helpful; she was trying to gauge exactly what was inside that box.
"Boss, that looks heavy. Do you want me to call a few guys to help you carry it up?"
Hayate chuckled softly.
"It's just a figurine. No need for help; I can handle it myself."
Barbara reached out, her hand brushing the wooden frame. She gave it a subtle, experimental tug.
The crate didn't budge.
She put more weight into it, her muscles tensing, but the object remained as immovable as a mountain. She quickly let go, masking her shock with a polite nod.
She watched Hayate casually hoist the 4.5-ton weight onto his shoulder and stroll up the stairs.
Figurine? Her mind raced.
She was no ordinary woman; her physical strength was far above average. If she couldn't even make it wobble with a full-strength pull, this thing had to weigh at least a ton.
She didn't know the actual weight was closer to five tons, but it didn't matter. Her assessment of Shiranui Hayate was already shifting.
A strongman?
No. Even a world-champion weightlifter could only clean and jerk 500 kilograms with immense effort. Hayate had moved it with one arm like it was air.
A Super Soldier?
Could he be from a secret government project? The British? The Russians? Or some freak that escaped from a hidden lab?
Her mission had just become significantly more complicated.