The Wanderer's Archive

"Name?"

"Milady."

"Do you have your ID?"

"Yes, yes, here."

"Alright, please introduce yourself."

"My name is Milady, I'm 19 years old, I come from..."

Inside a minimalist small conference room, a young man leaned back in a leather office chair.

The man had delicate features, fair skin, and thick black hair neatly combed to one side, revealing a smooth forehead.

He wore a navy-blue business suit, a pair of vintage gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, his dark eyes carefully scanning the resume in his hands.

Hah, what a refined scoundrel.

This well-dressed individual was none other than Siegfried. In reality, he worked as an HRBP (Human Resources Business Partner) at an electrical company—essentially, a personnel officer.

His main job was interviewing frontline workers—assembly line workers, welders, and the like—essentially luring laborers from across the country, introduced by staffing agencies, into the factory.

The girl in front of him, Zhu Cuihua, stumbled through her self-introduction while sneaking glances at Siegfried.

Admittedly, Siegfried's current appearance was quite eye-catching.

"Why did you choose our company?"

"My family needs money, and my younger brother is still in school. I want a stable job with insurance."

The girl fidgeted with a ballpoint pen as she answered, her nervousness evident.

It wasn't an unexpected response.

After all, there were only a handful of prosperous megacities like this one—most of the country was still underdeveloped.

In just the past few days, Siegfried had interviewed dozens of young people like her—barely eighteen, with only a middle school education, drifting into the city in search of work.

"Assembly line work is exhausting. Shifts usually run from morning till night, and when orders pile up, overtime can stretch until eleven or twelve. Can you handle that?"

"That late?!"

The girl was visibly startled, hesitation flashing across her face. This was a far cry from what the staffing agency had promised.

Siegfried frowned slightly.

These agencies often painted factories as paradise—easy work, high pay—just to trick desperate laborers into signing up.

But anyone with half a brain could figure it out—if it were truly paradise, why wouldn't locals be lining up for the jobs?

Siegfried's job was to "re-educate" these poor, deceived souls.

"It might be tough at first, but you'll get used to it."

"We offer meal allowances, housing subsidies, transportation benefits, and full social insurance—you won't find another company with perks like ours."

"Look, our factory has nearly a thousand frontline workers, all working hard without complaint. They're just like you—migrant workers from other provinces, with little education, yet they've carved out a place for themselves in this city."

"How? Through hard work. Labor is the sole source of material wealth, the only way to change your circumstances."

"Sacrifice a little leisure time, and you'll earn eight, nine, even ten thousand a month. At your age, shouldn't you be striving for more?"

With practiced ease, Siegfried fed the girl a grand, mouthwatering illusion, her eyes gleaming as if ready to sign the contract on the spot.

Ever since acquiring [Deceptive Discourse], Siegfried hadn't held back, applying it liberally in his daily life. In just a few days, he'd already conned over fifty unfortunate souls onto the assembly line.

He had no doubt that if he used this ability to deceive women, he could become an unparalleled playboy.

Of course, HR work wasn't just about this—but Siegfried, a high school dropout with no formal training in HR or administration, had only gotten the job through connections. His role was limited to basic recruitment.

After sending off the grateful Zhu Cuihua, with half an hour left before clocking out, Siegfried cheerfully prepared to slack off at his desk until quitting time.

[Wanderer, it pleases me to see you adapting so well to your Eidos.]

[Master it as much as possible. Equipment can be lost, allies can betray you—only your Eidos will always be your foundation.]

Shannon's ethereal voice echoed in his mind. Though her words were always polite, there was an unmistakable air of superiority.

Siegfried gritted his teeth.

"Tsk—I feel like your personality changed after I signed the contract. What, you got what you wanted and now you're cold?"

[That is your misconception.]

"More importantly, if you're not a 'system,' then what are you? If you didn't cause my transmigration, then why am I stuck in this mess?"

[That is not something you need to know right now—nor is it important. All you need to understand is that as a Wanderer, you are under the jurisdiction of us Chroniclers.]

(Yeah, right. Like I believe that!)

Siegfried cursed inwardly but kept his expression neutral.

Truth be told, he didn't even know what Shannon looked like—he could only hear that ethereal, melodious voice. He even suspected his inner thoughts were being monitored.

[However, I can disclose this much: Normally, Wanderers are selected and granted their abilities by Chroniclers. Yet your power does not originate from any one of us.]

Siegfried's brow furrowed.

"What does that mean? Am I some kind of 'wild' Wanderer?"

After a brief pause, the voice replied:

[Even among the many talented Wanderers, you are the most unique.]

......

Clearly, Shannon was withholding crucial information—but Siegfried had no way to force it out of her. By hierarchy, she was his superior.

Though many questions remained, he could only suppress his curiosity for now and return to his desk to pack up for the day.

"Ah-Jing, there's a dinner tonight. Accompany me."

From the workstation to Siegfried's right, a middle-aged man with a beer belly and an ingratiating smile was pestering his neighbor.

That neighbor was a tall, fair-skinned woman with striking features—most notably, the elegant shape of her nose.

But the most eye-catching thing about her wasn't her long, slender legs, sheathed in black stockings that faintly revealed the pink of her skin beneath—no, it was her icy, aloof demeanor.

Her name was Yang Jing, a new hire in the HR department last month—and also Siegfried's neighbor.

Since her arrival, the number of male employees "just passing by" HR had skyrocketed. Siegfried, due to his proximity, was often dragged into interrogations by her would-be suitors.

Mostly pointless questions like: What's your relationship with her? Do you have her WeChat? Can you introduce me?

While Siegfried appreciated beautiful women—especially those with long legs—some inexplicable instinct warned him: Stay away from her, or you'll regret it.

So he hadn't been much help to these hopeful admirers, nearly all of whom froze to death under Yang Jing's frosty gaze before their "romance" could even begin.

But in every forest, there are a few rotten birds.

Like this man currently hitting on her—the deputy director of the sales department, notorious for using "work guidance" as an excuse to harass female employees.

Half a month ago, he'd dropped off some documents at HR and since then became a "frequent visitor"—all under the guise of "work discussions." As if sales and HR had that much to coordinate.

"Sorry, Director Zhang, I have plans tonight."

Yang Jing's voice was as cold as her demeanor, her reply as curt as ever.

But Director Zhang wasn't ready to give up. He leaned in, his greasy face uncomfortably close to hers.

"Come on, we're colleagues, even if we're in different departments. My usual secretary can't make it—just help me out this once. Besides, the attendees are all industry big shots. Networking could really boost your career."

As he spoke, his hand had already settled on Yang Jing's shoulder.

A rare look of disgust flickered across her usually expressionless face—yet she didn't outright refuse.

The other colleagues around them lowered their heads. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened—some of the women present had suffered similarly.

Every large company had at least one executive like this—incompetent but clinging to power through sycophancy or family connections, poisoning the workplace for ordinary employees.

And Director Zhang checked both boxes.

He often dangled promotions or career advantages to pressure female staff or interns into sleeping with him. Most employees didn't dare cross him, opting to endure rather than confront.

But…

Seeing Yang Jing's lack of further refusal, Director Zhang's smile grew sleazier, his grip on her shoulder tightening as his eyes shamelessly roamed over her long, shapely legs.

Yang Jing's expression darkened, her fingers tightening around her pen until her knuckles whitened—she was on the verge of snapping.

"Well, well, Director Zhang, always so dedicated to your work."

But dealing with men like this wasn't hard—you just needed someone with equally powerful connections.