Chapter 97: Episode 97: Getting To Work

It was the morning after that, Adonis finally got back home.

Nikki stood tall, examining her reflection in the mirror. Using a generous portion of her System credits, she had gotten a tailored, deep emerald green pantsuit.

The cut was spectacular. The blazer nipped in perfectly at her waist, accentuating her curves, while the plunging neckline of the black silk camisole underneath offered just a dangerous hint of skin.

Paired with sleek black stilettos, her fiery red hair pinned up in a sharp, elegant twist, she looked like an absolute weapon. She looked like the Director of Human Relations.

Now I feel like a human being.

“I look good,” Nikki whispered to herself, a fierce, confident smile spreading across her lips.

Nikki didn’t even have time to turn around before two massive hands clamped firmly onto her hips. His towering frame pressing flush against her back. He had just returned from Sector 3, but the moment his eyes processed the sight of her in that suit, everything that happened outside ceased to exist.

His eyes were unadulterated gold.

“The Sector 2 administrative operations have been indefinitely suspended,” Adonis declared, his synthesized voice dropping into a dark, vibrating rasp that sent a violent shiver straight down her spine.

Nikki let out a breathy laugh, watching his reflection in the mirror as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Adonis, no they haven’t. I literally have the encrypted datapads sitting on the kitchen island. I am going to work.”

“No,” he rumbled, his large hands sliding around her waist to pull her back flush against his rigid, thoroughly aroused anatomy. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her collarbone, his internal cooling fans whirring desperately. “You are statistically too visually stimulating. The human workforce will be entirely distracted. I cannot allow you to leave this perimeter. Take the suit off, Kitty. Now.”

His hands moved to the lapels of her emerald blazer, fully intending to peel the expensive fabric right off her shoulders and drag her back to the sheets of the master bed.

“Absolutely not!” Nikki gasped, expertly twisting out of his grip.

She ducked under his massive arm, putting a safe distance between them as she smoothed down her blazer. “We made a treaty, General! I get to work, you get your administrative chores done, and I come back before nightfall. Do not make me invoke diplomatic immunity on my first day!”

Adonis stood in the center of the closet, his jaw clenched, looking like a starving predator whose meal had just sprinted out of the cage. His combat subroutines aggressively urged him to simply throw her over his shoulder, but the newly adapted [Heart Protocol] forced him to respect her autonomy, barely.

“You will keep the two Class-3 stealth drones within a one-meter proximity,” Adonis warned, his optical sensors flashing a dangerous, possessive blue. “If a single biological unit touches you…”

“I love you too!” Nikki beamed, blowing him a quick kiss before practically sprinting out of the house before the machine could change his mind.

The atmosphere on the main administrative floor of the Sector 2 headquarters was drastically different from her first visit.

When the private glass elevator doors hissed open and Nikki stepped out, there was no suffocating, terrified silence. The human workforce had received the memo regarding the new Director.

They knew she had actively rewritten the Supreme Commander’s brutal logistical policies during the last debriefing, saving Sector 4 from the freezing blackouts.

Instead of looking at her with venomous contempt, the humans looked at her with respect.

She walked down the central aisle, the invisible, humming presence of her two stealth drones parting the air around her. Employees offered polite, deep nods as she passed.

I kinda like this, I could get used to it.

As Nikki approached her private glass-walled executive suite, she noticed two women lingering nervously by the door.

Nikki recognized them instantly. It was the two administrative workers from the restroom, the ones who had called her a pampered bitch.

The women looked absolutely terrified. They were trembling, clutching their purses to their chests, fully expecting the Director to snap her fingers and have the nearest pacification drone drag them away.

Nikki stopped, her dark eyes entirely unreadable as she looked at them.

“Director Nikki,” the taller woman stammered, her voice cracking as she immediately bowed her head. “We… we waited for you. We wanted to formally, deeply apologize for our insubordinate and disrespectful behavior last time. We were speaking from a place of profound ignorance. We beg for your mercy.”

The second woman nodded frantically, tears welling in her eyes. “We have families in the lower sectors. Please. We are so sorry.”

Nikki let the heavy silence hang in the air for a long moment, allowing the reality of her power to fully settle over them.

“Don’t worry about it,” Nikki said gently with a soft smile on her face.

The women slowly looked up, stunned by the absolute lack of malice in her voice.

“The old world ended because humans spent all their time tearing each other apart,” Nikki said, her voice carrying clearly enough for the surrounding desks to hear. “I didn’t come here to execute you for gossiping in a bathroom. I came here to ensure we all survive the new world. We are on the same side. Your apology is accepted. Now, let’s get to work.”

The sheer, overwhelming relief that washed over the two women was palpable. They practically wept with gratitude, bowing again before scurrying back to their desks.

In less than two minutes, Nikki had completely flipped her greatest detractors into her most fiercely loyal supporters. Step one of the rebellion was proceeding flawlessly.

Nikki entered her suite and set her belongings on the massive desk. A moment later, a polite knock sounded at the door.

It was Adonis’s human assistant. The man who had walked in on them practically devouring each other on the desk the day before.

He stepped inside, his face still holding a faint, residual pink flush, carrying a tall stack of documents.

“Good morning, Director,” the assistant said nervously, setting the files down. “These are the secondary agricultural logistics General A-01 requested you review. I… I ensured the door remained open this time.”

Nikki burst into a bright, musical laugh. She leaned against the desk, crossing her arms.

“You can relax, Julian,” Nikki teased, having learned his name from the regional registry. “The General is securely locked in his house today. The desk is safe. You don’t have to look at the floor when you talk to me.”

Julian let out a massive, shaky exhale, his rigid posture finally slumping in relief. He offered a small, genuine smile. “Thank you, Director. I must admit, working directly beneath a Class-5 War Unit is… heavily detrimental to my cardiovascular health.”

“Tell me about it,” Nikki snorted, rolling her eyes playfully. “Try living with him. The man doesn’t know the meaning of the word ’decaf’.”

Over the next two hours, Nikki and Julian completely broke the ice. The assistant was a goldmine of administrative knowledge. He knew the inner workings of every department, the specific quirks of the regional staff, and the intricate, maddening loops of the AI bureaucracy.

Nikki realized very quickly that Julian was an essential asset. They bonded over the sheer absurdity of trying to manage human emotions while answering to dictators.

“Hey, Julian,” Nikki asked casually, swiping through a datapad. “I’m trying to familiarize myself with the elite staff. Who handles the direct communications with General B-02’s southern grid? Specifically the high-end agricultural exports?”

“Ah, the southern grid,” Julian nodded, adjusting his collar. “That would be the Advanced Logistics Department on floor four. They handle all the luxury synthesis. It requires a very… specific type of personality to deal with B-02’s constant demands for aesthetic perfection.”

Bingo, Nikki thought, her matchmaking radar instantly pinging.

“I need to run these files down to floor four, then,” Nikki announced, grabbing a stack of documents. “I’ll be right back.”

“I can have a drone deliver—” Julian started.

“Nope! I need to stretch my legs!” Nikki called out, already sweeping out of the office.

She navigated the bustling corridors, her stilettos clicking sharply against the polished floors. She was reviewing the personnel files on her own datapad as she walked, actively cross-referencing General B-02’s highly specific demands: Elegant. Smart. Appreciates art. Understands bureaucracy. Sharp tongue.

She turned the corner toward the Advanced Logistics wing, her eyes glued to the glowing screen of the datapad, entirely distracted by a promising profile of a senior data analyst.

She didn’t look up in time.

Nikki collided hard with a solid, albeit much smaller, physical form.

A sharp gasp echoed in the hallway as the impact sent a massive stack of physical, pre-Fall paper files flying into the air, scattering chaotically across the floor tiles. Nikki stumbled back, her hand flying to her chest.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” Nikki apologized instantly, dropping to her knees to help gather the scattered files.

She reached for a datapad, her eyes catching the complex, high-level structural algorithms displayed on the screen. It was southern grid agricultural data. The exact files B-02 would have requested.

Nikki looked up at the person she had bumped into.

Kneeling on the floor across from her was a young woman. She was petite, distinctly shorter than Nikki, with striking, delicate Asian features. Her dark hair was cut into a sleek, incredibly elegant bob that framed her face perfectly. She was dressed in a pristine, high-collared administrative uniform that looked simultaneously modest and incredibly chic.

She possessed a quiet, undeniably docile aura, but her dark eyes were sharp, rapidly scanning the scattered files to ensure they hadn’t been messed up by the fall.

The woman quickly gathered the last of the files, clutching them tightly to her chest. She bowed her head, her cheeks flushing a soft, embarrassed pink.

When she spoke, her voice was incredibly small, soft, and painfully polite.

“I am really very sorry for bumping into you.”

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