【Interstellar Contract Magician】Ruyuanke

Chapter 322 [Empire] Merit

Looking at his expression, I found it quite funny for some reason. I couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Nightingale, where's the mouse I gave you?"

Nightingale was leaning against the wall of the mission hall, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, absentmindedly fiddling with a piece of plant essence nuclear energy. Hearing my voice, he looked up at me, his eyebrows raised. "Oh, that mouse? I found it a new home—an upgraded version with rollers and an automatic rotation function."

My shoulders shook slightly as I laughed. "Automatic rotation? You really know how to enjoy it. Do you plan to watch it run, or just let it drive a small generator?"

He grinned, revealing a cynical smile: "You remind me, I'll install a generator later, maybe it can really provide a small light."

"Since you value it so much, why didn't you turn it into an experimental subject?" I teased and approached him.

He spread his hands, looking helpless. "Who knew that little thing could run faster than ordinary beasts? I couldn't catch it. It's really an unusual rat."

"It's a good thing that it runs fast, so you don't have to use it as experimental material." I looked down at his waist, which seemed to be carrying new equipment. "Why, have you had any good loot lately?"

Nightingale's eyes also fell on her own equipment, and she sighed half-seriously, "Thanks to you, running that thing is quite stress-relieving. I don't have time to cause trouble."

I chuckled and lifted the bag on my back: "Take good care of it. I spent a lot of time picking this out for you."

He raised an eyebrow and glanced at me, then gently tossed the nuclear energy in his hand up and caught it again: "Don't worry, I will keep everything you give me well."

He smiled and narrowed his eyes. "But you, young master, don't you know your father's name?" He flicked his cigarette pretentiously and said, "If I ever get down on my luck and can't do this job anymore, I'd like to come to your house and ask for a meal and a living."

"Are you talking about my adoptive father?" I laughed, a hint of light mockery in my tone. "I don't think a 'high-level mercenary' like you would need to make a living. But you, Nightingale, you look so lazy all day long. If you really fall into poverty, maybe you can make a living by selling your face."

Nightingale narrowed her eyes upon hearing this, a playful smile playing on the corners of her mouth. She twirled the cigarette butt gently between her fingers, as if teasing her prey nonchalantly: "Tsk, young master, you're quite sharp-tongued. But, you can't hide your wealth with just words."

"Family background?" I shrugged. "I'm a dependent. It's clearly written on my laptop. You don't really think my small amount of child support will allow you to marry someone of your status?"

Nightingale shook her head, the smile on her face growing even wider. "Tsk tsk, what you said makes me even more curious. If your father knew what you look like now, would he be proud or worried?"

"Headache?" I raised an eyebrow. "I guess you feel the same way. If one day I were to fall so low that I had to run away to make a living, I'd really like to see if you would be my bodyguard."

He laughed heartily, flicking his cigarette, sparks streaking through the air. "Interesting, quite interesting. Young Master, I really want to meet your 'father' and see what a special adopted son he has."

I sneered, "Just forget it, Nightingale. If my family knew I was hanging out with someone like you, I'm afraid they wouldn't even leave you any food."

Instead of getting angry, he smiled, a hint of interest flashing in his eyes: "Okay, then don't let him know."

I suddenly became serious: "Nightingale, how do mercenaries get their personal merits?"

Nightingale was visibly stunned when he heard my question. He paused for a moment, then stubbed out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray. He smiled his usual lazy smile, "Boy, why are you asking this all of a sudden? Merit isn't just for show."

I looked him straight in the eye, unfazed by his attitude. "Just tell me how to get it."

He raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair, as if thinking, or examining. "Merits, to put it simply, are divided into combat merits and special mission merits. Combat merits basically rely on hard work, such as clearing out exotic beasts or lord-level combat plants, and the points and merits you get will be higher. As for special missions—such as intelligence gathering, escorting VIPs, technical support, etc.—these depend on how many 'special skills' you have."

I nodded: "Only by taking on missions?"

Nightingale sneered. "Of course not. Some large factions will issue internal missions, and you can even be directly rewarded for your performance on the battlefield. And... if you have a little bit of brains, you can completely 'plan' your own achievements, such as creating some small incidents, and then record yourself after solving them."

"Creating an incident?" I frowned, not liking the term.

Nightingale's smile widened when she saw my expression. "Don't be so naive, kid. In this business, the rules are meant to be used flexibly. Having more personal achievements can not only increase your mercenary rating, but also earn you privileges and even attract the attention of official forces. If you do this well, you'll feel it's worth more than any other points you earn."

I was silent for a moment, then asked seriously, "Are the records of merit points public?"

"Of course it's public. Anyone with the necessary qualifications can check it." Nightingale looked at me with a meaningful glint in her eyes. "Lingzhi, I'm increasingly curious about what you're planning to do."

I didn't respond, but just lowered my head and turned the light computer bracelet on my wrist, thinking about what to do next.

"Nightingale, my true identity requires me to reach adulthood. I don't want to wait too long." I looked at him, "I know the adulthood process requires points. Going to school is too slow, and I'm not currently suited to joining the army. I want to try the path of mercenary merit."

Nightingale's eyes flashed with a hint of amusement when he heard this. He put down the cup in his hand and leaned forward slightly, as if to see through me. "Oh? Kid, you're quite straightforward. Adult points are not a small amount. Even I have to be cautious. Are you sure you want to go all out like this?"

I nodded, my expression unwavering. "You know, I don't have much time to waste."

Nightingale chuckled and leaned back in her chair. "The path to glory... is indeed the fastest, but also the most difficult. If anything happens to you, don't blame me for not warning you."

"I won't regret it." I looked him straight in the eye, my tone firm. "I know what I want."

He raised an eyebrow, as if a little surprised by my determination, but quickly calmed down and said seriously, "Okay, since you're determined, I won't stop you. Mercenary merit isn't something you can earn simply by the number of missions you complete; it depends on the level of the missions and the quality of your completion. High-level missions are rare, the competition is fierce, and the danger is doubled. Are you sure you can handle it?"

"Yes." I answered briefly, without hesitation.

He was silent for a moment, as if assessing my ability and courage. Then he stood up and tapped the screen on the table. "Then give it a try. Wait for the news tonight. There might be a mission that meets your requirements. Don't let me down, kid."

"Also," he narrowed his eyes, his tone carrying a hint of meaningful mockery, "when you become an adult, what are you going to do with your 'fake identity'? Don't make me clean up the mess for you then."

I smiled slightly and didn't answer, but just lowered my head to check the light computer bracelet on my wrist.