Warden of the Beast World: Everyone is a Hakimi

Lu Yu sat in the central observation room, the holographic screen in front of him covered with densely packed data curves.

Five mental breakdown value monitoring curves, each corresponding to one of the five detainees, were used to automatically generate a comparison chart based on the changes over the past forty-eight hours.

He held his fourth cup of coffee of the day, which had gone cold, but his hand hovered above the cup, motionless, his light amber eyes fixed on the screen through his gold-rimmed glasses.

景曜：89→78。寒州：91→79。翎狩：88→76。赤珩：93→80。沧溟：95→82。

Lu Yu put down his coffee cup and his slender fingers flew across the control panel, bringing up the Imperial Research Institute's historical database.

He wanted to find out, in the empire's more than two thousand years of historical records, cases of successfully repairing a mental breakdown value that had exceeded ninety. The moment the search results popped up on the screen, he remained silent for a long time: zero. From ancient times to the present, not a single one.

When the mental breakdown value exceeds 90, it is medically known as the "irreversible critical point." Once this line is crossed, the breakdown will enter a self-accelerating phase, like a boulder rolling down a mountain. The further it rolls, the greater its potential energy becomes, and no external force can stop it from eventually falling into the abyss.

The Radiant Repair Fluid didn't work, the S-rank healers didn't work, and even the legendary Ancient Soothing Array didn't work. The Imperial Research Institute's textbooks stated that the only fate for orcs with a mental breakdown value exceeding ninety was to be forcibly taken back after their berserk riot—in Imperial law, "forced takeback" was a euphemism for "execution," and several are still imprisoned to this day.

Now, all five curves have plummeted below 80. Cangming dropped from 95 to 82, and Chiheng from 93 to 80. Two days. Forty-eight hours.

A small female, using roasted meat, steamed buns, and a bunch of unknown emerald green plants, accomplished what no one in the empire had done in two thousand years.

Lu Yu took a deep breath and dialed an encrypted communication channel. The face of an elderly but vigorous woman appeared on the computer screen. Her full head of silver hair was neatly tied back, and the corners of her eyes and forehead were etched with the lines of time, but her amber eyes were still sharp and clear.

An Ning, the Dean of the Imperial Research Institute, is the only existing S+ level female orc in the Empire. She is 147 years old and has been deeply involved in the field of mental power research for nearly a century. She is Lu Yu's mentor and the person in the entire Empire who understands the working mechanism of mental power the most.

"Teacher," Lu Yu said without any pleasantries, knowing that An Ning disliked small talk, "I'm sending you some data that you need to review personally."

On the holographic screen, five curves and a detailed report compiled by Lu Yu were simultaneously transmitted.

The report contained a complete record of Ye Tang's behavior in the two days since she joined the company—how she delivered meals, what extra food she provided to each detainee, how she used a net to scoop up Cang Ming, how she touched Jing Yao's head, what she muttered after being rejected by Han Zhou, and even details such as bringing two ice creams for Chi Heng were not omitted.

An Ning remained silent for a long time before slowly leaning back in her chair. For the first time, shock appeared in her eyes, which had been calm and unwavering for so long.

She quickly went through all the papers she had written, all the experiments she had conducted, and all the theoretical models she had built in her life, and then found that none of them could explain the data in front of her.

"All that I've learned in my life, and most of my research," An Ning's voice was hoarse and slow, each word resounding, "has been overturned by this little girl."

She paused, her fingers flying across the personal terminal, her tone suddenly turning serious: "Lu Yu, from this moment on, all of Ye Tang's personal information, employment records, surveillance footage, and all data related to her are classified as top secret by the Empire. Encryption level—SSS. Authorized access is limited to just the two of us."

Lu Yu sat up slightly. SSS-level top secret, fewer than ten documents in the entire empire have this level of encryption, and each one is a strategic secret concerning the fate of the nation.

Raising a minor female's file to this level means that, in Anning's view, Wild Tang's value is no less than any strategic weapon of the Empire.

"Also," Anning didn't give him time to process, "I've applied to the military for a dedicated escort team of twelve people, all of whom are at least A-level combatants, to protect her safety 24/7. The authorization documents will be in your hands in ten minutes. Lu Yu."

Her voice softened for a moment, and a seriousness rarely seen on her teacher's face appeared on her face. "The safety of this little female is now the highest interest of the Empire. Anyone, including those few residents, who poses a threat to her, is subject to immediate execution by the guards."

Lu Yu paused for a second. He remembered Ye Tang squatting under the tree petting the dog and eating skewers with her mouth full of oil.

"clear."

An Ning nodded and was about to hang up when she suddenly added, "There's one more thing, Lu Yu. I'm giving you a task: unlimited funding. Use all available resources to bring one of those emerald green plants to the research institute. I want to study it myself."

"...Yes, teacher."

Lu Yu shut down his personal terminal, leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples. Then he stood up, took a black crystal card from the office safe—a special strategic material procurement fund card approved by the Imperial Research Institute, with no limit on the amount; only three such cards existed in the entire empire. He put the card into the inner pocket of his military uniform, pushed open the door, and went downstairs, his steps much faster than usual.

As he walked into the residential area, he could smell a rich aroma of roasted meat from afar.

Turning past the wall of the small detached house, he saw Ye Tang leisurely leaning against the old tree in the yard, her back against the tree trunk, sitting cross-legged on the grass, her left hand holding a skewer of freshly grilled chicken wings, her mouth full of oil, while her right hand was brushing sauce onto the barbecue grill, humming a song with a tune that was completely out of tune.

The hunter lay beside her, its chin resting on its paws, its gray-blue eyes half-closed, and the fur around its mouth still stained with the oil from roasted meat, clearly indicating that it had just eaten.

The scene was so peaceful that Lu Yu stood in the shade of the tree for several seconds, reluctant to break it. But he still went over.

"Wild Warden".

Ye Tang looked up, a chicken bone still dangling from her lips. Seeing it was Lu Yu, she quickly spat out the bone and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Colonel Lu? Have a seat, have a seat. I just baked a plate of chicken wings; would you like some?"

"Thank you, but no need," Lu Yu said, gracefully sitting cross-legged on the grass beside her, her beautiful antlers gleaming with a warm, ivory-white luster in the shadows of the trees.

"I'm here to discuss a business deal with you. I want to buy one of those green plants you have—you call it catnip—alive, whole, with roots and soil."

Upon hearing the word "business," Ye Tang's eyes lit up instantly. She tossed the chicken wing skewers aside, stood up deftly, and dusted off the grass clippings from her bottom, striking a pose just like a small vendor setting up a stall at a weekend market on Blue Star: "Selling? Of course I'll sell!"

As she spoke, she held up five fingers.

She was thinking about fifty star coins. Catnip was like a zero-cost crop in her spirit field, growing like weeds. She could harvest a crop every half hour, without even pulling out the roots. She could just pinch off a handful of leaves and it would grow back tomorrow.

Back on Earth, a potted catnip plant only cost a dozen or so dollars. She was already asking for more by holding up five fingers—in fact, she thought even five dollars was too much. The reason she wanted fifty star coins was because she didn't want the Imperial military to think she was trying to fool their heroes with cheap goods. Fifty star coins was a reasonable price, respectable, and saved face for both sides.

She mentally calculated the price, while Lu Yu stared at the five fingers, his mind racing with conversion formulas. Then, he adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and calmly announced the price he understood: "Five hundred thousand? Sold."

Ye Tang's smile froze on her face.

Five to five hundred thousand?

Before she could even utter the word "coin," Lu Yu had already pulled out his personal terminal with lightning speed, projecting a transfer interface into the air in front of her. His fingertips flew as he entered the amount, and iris authentication flashed by—"ding!"—500,000 star coins had arrived in her account.

Ye Tang looked down at the account balance notification that popped up on her personal computer. She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, her expression going through a complex series of thoughts, from shock to confusion to "Did I hear that wrong?" and then to "No, I have to stay calm."