[BL] Transmigrated as the Villain CEO's Mermaid Secretary

Time became meaningless to count. Minutes turned into hours as Neville lost himself in the familiar dance of data management. His glasses began to fog slightly from the intensity of his focus.

Neville’s fingers flew across the holographic interface, creating color-coded folders and sub-categories. His eyes darted from screen to screen like he was watching the universe’s most intense tennis match, fingers dancing across multiple holographic keyboards simultaneously.

He didn’t even notice that some silver-eyed CEO who was in the same office as him was glancing at him from time to time. One time, Grayson’s eyes lingered for a solid 30 minutes just observing him.

Grayson noticed that his hair had been all over the place. Neville’s face became slightly oily because of the sweat. How Neville constantly pushed his glasses uncomfortably every few minutes.

The familiar rhythm of work settled over him like a comfortable blanket, pushing away thoughts of that handsome, silver-eyed, employee-abusive boss who was currently sitting on his desk. Judging from his sitting form, Grayson must’ve been distracted, too.

Neville didn’t know if Grayson wanted something specific from these files. But since he didn’t leave any instructions, he just did what he always did: everything.

A streak of afternoon sunlight found a gap in the office’s smart-tinting windows, reflecting directly off his glasses and rendering him temporarily blind.

Ah! Neville blinked rapidly, pushing his glasses up to rub his eyes. The sudden brightness had shocked him out of his work trance like a bucket of cold water. How long had he been working?

Gurugurguru~

His stomach made a loud growl that echoed embarrassingly in the quiet office. Neville looked up, fully expecting the office to be empty. The man ran on a schedule more precise than clocks, after all.

But no. Grayson was still there, still at his imposing desk, still surrounded by holographic displays. He didn’t seem to have noticed the noise because he was so focused on his work.

[Host, you’re staring too much,] Shelly teased. [Just a friendly reminder, a stare can be a double-edged sword. It can be a favorability up or a favorability down. Just be careful with your choice~]

Neville practically ignored Shelly’s comments and checked the time. Then, he realized, if he hadn’t eaten lunch, neither had Grayson.

Grayson should definitely be taking his afternoon break now. But surely he wouldn’t eat in the cafeteria like everyone else? The very idea was laughable. How could a CEO like Grayson dine with his regular employees? That would cause a huge scandal, which would fuel StarNet gossip forums for weeks.

Where’s Bryan? Although Neville forgot about afternoon break, surely Bryan wouldn’t. It was unacceptable for a secretary to forget the needs of the one they serve.

Neville’s hand was already reaching for his light brain to send a message to Bryan when his mouth started to spill out Grayson’s preferences in quiet whispers.

"Mornings, he prefers his tea over coffee...no sugar, but morning has milk. It’s already afternoon, so erase that. Lunch shouldn’t be too heavy...since it’s a little late in the afternoon, maybe seafood? Hmm... seafood might not be available since it’s Tuesday. Sandw—"

Neville forced his brain to stop. He abruptly lifted his head. His eyes, wide with panic behind his ugly glasses, looked at Grayson. He shouldn’t have heard that, right?

Then Grayson naturally noticed his gaze and looked over. But Neville already panned his attention back to his light brain.

Okay, take a breath and don’t talk out loud.

Neville saw his drafted message to Bryan and realized something. He shouldn’t have known Grayson’s preferences, and Bryan most definitely should be more familiar with Grayson’s preferences than him.

Neville deleted everything that he had written and pondered over what to send. If he knew something that Bryan didn’t know, the system would have a heyday of plastering red warning signs on him.

Unable to think of something that would make him not look suspicious, Neville could only lift his head and look at Grayson, who was apparently still staring at him.

Neville forced himself to flash a casual smile, but it probably looked more like he had a stomachache.

"So, uh, what would you like to eat for afternoon break, Mr. Maxwell?" he asked, voice only cracking slightly. "I’ll make sure to inform Bryan if there are any changes to your usual order."

Smooth. Very smooth. Smooth my ass, Neville scolded himself.

Grayson murmured something in response, but it was too inaudible for Neville to catch. More of a grumble than an answer. He pressed his lips together, as if pondering something.

[Favorability holding steady at 7%. No decrease detected. Host may continue breathing. ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌]

’Thanks for the reassurance,’ Neville shot back dryly.

The office door burst open with dramatic timing. Bryan walked in, flashing an enigmatic smile. "I couldn’t help but overhear your discussion—meals?"

Overhear? Neville thought, horrified. Through a soundproof door? Unless this building had a black hole wired into its walls, there’s no way he should’ve heard anything.

Bryan didn’t give him a chance to think further and said, "What would you like today, sir? The usual? Or perhaps something different?"

Grayson seemed to have expected this to happen and ignored Bryan completely. His gaze stayed fixed on Neville, silver eyes tracing every nervous twitch, every bead of sweat that was definitely not forming on Neville’s forehead because he was absolutely not panicking, thank you very much.

Then, with a slow tilt of his head, and uncharacteristically pointed at Neville.

"Have him order for me."

Bryan blinked once. Twice. His brain short-circuited. He turned toward Neville like he had just been handed a live grenade. What was going on?

The office went silent, except for the sound of Neville’s soul leaving his body.

This is it. This is how I die. Goodbye, cruel world.

"I..." Neville’s voice cracked, scrambling for composure. "That is—I couldn’t possibly—"

[Host’s stress levels are spiking at an alarming rate. Breathing exercises are recommended. Or... just pass out. Passing out is always an option. (￣▽￣)」]

’F*ck you,’ Neville hissed back mentally.

Grayson simply asked, "Is there a problem?"

Neville jolted, straightening like a soldier caught dozing.

"N-no problem, Mr. Maxwell." His voice cracked on the first syllable, but he pushed through with pure sheer will

He turned stiffly to Bryan. "Can I... see the menu, please?"

Bryan, still dazed, sent him the link. It seemed that he was no different from him because he didn’t bother hiding his confusion.

Neville clicked it open. The name shone back at him: Interstellaire Garden.

A French restaurant? Neville’s stomach did a hopeful flip. This must be good...

Meanwhile, Bryan flicked his gaze between the two men, suspicion dawning in his expression. Grayson, of course, did not explain either. He simply leaned back in his chair, watching Neville fumble with the menu as if the entire scene amused him.

Scrolling through the menu felt like dragging a boulder uphill. Every swipe weighed a thousand coins in his hands.

Neville thought picking food would be simple, but no—nothing even remotely resembled what he considered food. The ingredients list alone looked like it had been written by a mad scientist.

’Allergen Proof’? What the hell does that mean? You can eat eggs even if you’re allergic? ...No way.

Then, like a miracle, salvation appeared. A burger.

A burger?! It survived the future?! Thank you, universe, for protecting mankind’s greatest treasure!

He eagerly tapped it open, only to freeze at the ingredient list.

Level-4 Cosmic Beast Meat? Is this edible? Wait—maybe it’s like... A5 wagyu beef? And this green thing—it looks like lettuce, but the name’s "Leime"? Whatever, green is green.

His relief crumbled when he saw the price. Neville’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets. The most expensive thing on the entire menu? Are you kidding me?

But then a dangerous little thought whispered: If you want to eat better, you need to pay a little more for that.

"Have you decided?" Bryan’s voice cut in smoothly.

Heart hammering, Neville shoved logic aside and ordered the burgers—for both himself and Grayson. After all, it wasn’t like he was footing the bill.

"Yes. Here." He sent the order link.

Bryan’s eyes flicked to the screen—and widened. "Baragara?" His tone carried equal parts disbelief and amusement.

Neville forced a nervous smile. "I think... It’s good to explore something new once in a while."

Bryan’s enigmatic smile deepened. "Mm. Then I’ll try one as well." He tapped the same choice without hesitation.

Neville twitched. He ordered the same thing? Why?

[Host, I think he just wants to freeload free food,] Shelly chimed, far too smug.

For once, Neville couldn’t even argue.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The meal arrived with impressive speed—faster than any fast food joint Neville remembered from Earth, despite the restaurant being located outside the city grounds. But with current technology, nothing was really impossible.

Bryan distributed the food. The sleek, temperature-controlled containers hissed open to reveal—

Neville had to bite back a grimace. Unlike the glossy image on the menu, this "burger" looked like a cruel parody. The bun glistened with an unnatural sheen, the patty shimmered in a dubious gray-green, and the supposed lettuce looked suspiciously like seaweed forced into leaf shapes.

[That looks... interesting! (⊙_⊙)] Shelly chirped.

’Interesting, my ass,’ Neville groaned inwardly. I should’ve known. Suspicious names equal suspicious food.

He risked a glance sideways. Grayson’s silver eyes were fixed on him, patient, expectant. Waiting.

Right. If the boss gets food poisoning, guess who gets blamed? The idiot who ordered it.

Swallowing his dread, Neville picked up the alien burger and took a bite.

Fck.