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

"I... did it."

Neville exhaled, almost in disbelief, as the crowd around him erupted into congratulations while he made his way out of the conference hall.

Shelly floated beside him, beaming with pride.

[See? Told you Host could do it! I knew it! (*´꒳`*)]

’I couldn’t have done it without you,’ Neville murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

It was true. Without Shelly’s ability to exploit this era’s programs, he wouldn’t have known where to begin and would have worked blindly. Most of the data he had presented came straight from the data she had dug around.

After all, he wasn’t exactly an expert—truthfully, not in any field at all.

’It’s really good to have the system,’ he sighed, admitting in his head.

Shelly instantly puffed out her non-existent chest, a smug, holographic display of triumph, clearly pleased.

[Hmph! Now you see how powerful I am! Acknowledge my power, Host! (๑>ᴗ<๑)❤]

’Yeah, yeah, got it,’ Neville replied gently, amused.

He hadn’t even walked far from the podium when Sarah and Iris appeared, each holding a bouquet.

"That presentation was incredible! The visuals were off the charts!" Sarah exclaimed as the bouquet in her hand almost tumbled out in excitement. "Seriously, how did you even come up with the concept model for the starship?!"

Neville just smiled, scratching his cheek with a non-committal expression. He couldn’t exactly tell her that he had just copied it from the original story, could he?

That starship—that specific one—was the very same starship that Grayson had once boarded before literally ending the world. That massive starship was essentially a nuclear weapon.

From the podium, Neville had noticed Grayson’s eyes lingering on the concept model of the starship. It was a good thing he had asked Shelly to replicate it, even if it did cost him a few precious points.

"Warp Gate, huh?" Iris spoke; her expression was thoughtful and complicated. "You must’ve gone through a lot just learning the programming needed to track those bastards."

Neville gave a tight, wary smile. He couldn’t comment on that either.

The Warp Gate was real. After all, he pulled it out straight from the original timeline. But the ’tracking’ feature? Pure fluff. He just added it to sort out the people who were targeting him.

This addition didn’t alter the original program keys from the Stellar Cartography Map, Compass. If anything, he felt like he owed Grayson an apology. After all, he had painstakingly developed this program for all the wrong reasons.

For one, stalking the protagonist shou, Elliot.

"You didn’t have to bring these," Neville said, smoothly changing the subject as he took the flowers from their hands.

"It’s just something we do in our department," Iris explained. "And... well, an apology too."

Sarah nodded, looking guilty. "Yeah... we wanted to invite you out to dinner, but we’re flying out for a business trip later. So, this is all we could give you."

"Oh, I see," he gently replied with a casual shrug, a genuine sense of relief settling over him. "No worries. I was planning to take some time off for myself anyway."

When the crowd began to part, Neville finally spotted Grayson—still seated, still surrounded by executives and their lackeys. A small group of executives had tense expressions on their faces.

From what Neville could tell, they were pressing Grayson. They argued that the competition results were somehow wrong and that he was making a big mistake by letting this slide.

Bryan was already there, patiently coaxing them. "Let it go, gentlemen. The competition’s results are already out, and we have a clear winner."

Then came a resentful voice.

"Selling his body to sell his technology. What a great idea," Mick Hewitt muttered.

Neville’s brows twitched. Before he could even react, Grayson’s head turned. His silver eyes sharpened, and the air seemed to chill.

"Mr. Hewitt," Grayson’s voice dropped, suddenly grave as he reprimanded him. "I advise you to refrain from making unpleasant comments every time the outcome isn’t in your favor."

"Then, what?" Mick scoffed, crossing his arms like a sulky child. "Who are you to stop me from saying what I want to say?"

He looked directly at Grayson’s eyes and mocked, "But, isn’t it the truth?"

"I won’t stop you," Grayson replied flatly, clearly done with the whole exchange. "But someone else will."

Mick understood what he meant. His face instantly flushed with anger.

"I’m done with this bullshit! Let’s go!" he barked before storming out of the hall.

Killian, seeing his boss storm out, had no choice but to follow. As he rushed past the crowd, his eyes drifted towards Neville, who was standing off to the side, watching the scene. He instantly sent a murderous glare at Neville before running out.

’Seriously? What the hell is he glaring at me for? I didn’t even do anything,’ Neville thought, irritation flickering across his face.

A soft snort came from the side. Sarah, who hadn’t gone far, crossed her arms.

"He should’ve just given up the moment his temporary office got torn into shreds," she muttered.

"Sarah," Iris warned, tugging at her arm, "They had no business at Maxwell Corporation to begin with. Don’t stoop to their level."

Before Sarah could retort, Bryan slipped through the thinning crowd and joined them.

"Ladies," he smoothly interjected, "you might want to hold those comments. This is not exactly the best place for gossip."

Neville gave him a once-over, expression mildly amused. He teased, "You might want to hold off on the drinks, too. Mr. Maxwell hasn’t even had one."

Bryan blinked, then smirked. "He doesn’t want to drink. That’s why I have to."

He jerked his chin subtly toward Grayson, who was now engrossed in another conversation.

Neville tilted his head slightly, genuinely confused. He quickly searched Grayson’s profile on the system interface, where his preferences were listed.

’But... he loves to drink, though?’

As if on cue, Shelly had zipped back into his view after roaming around the conference hall, looking pleased with herself.

[Host, your target only developed that drinking habit later on in the original timeline.]

Neville blinked in realization.

’So... he didn’t like to drink before.’

Seeing Neville still staring at his glass of champagne, Bryan tilted his head.

"Do you want some?" he asked.

Neville blinked, snapping out of his daze. His gaze shifted to Bryan.

"I’m... still thinking." Then, with a small laugh, he continued. "But now that you mentioned it, maybe I should take one."

He took a glass from the roaming robot servers and swirled it idly, the bubbles catching the light. His attention drifted towards Grayson.

Grayson sat across the room, silent among the crowd, his expression unreadable. He was brushing his lips with his fingertips, then dropping his hand, only to repeat the motion moments later. Neville had seen him do it enough times to consider it one of Grayson’s unlisted habits.

’He looks... bored,’ Neville thought, eyes narrowing slightly as he observed him from the corner of his eye.

’Utterly bored, I dare say.’ He thought as he continued his secret observation while pretending to chat with a colleague.

Then, their gazes met.

Neville froze.

Just then, Director Cox leaned closer to Grayson and murmured something. With his enhanced hearing, Neville caught the sharp words.

"Perhaps your judgment’s been compromised," Director Cox said, voice low but firm. "We can’t launch this proposal as it is—we need adjustments."

Neville frowned. Compromised? Did he really just say that?

Neville didn’t know if Cox was merely channeling Mick’s toxicity, but Grayson clearly hit his limit.

Because in the next second, Grayson’s expression darkened, the air around him changed in an instant. He abruptly stood, said a few words to the people around him, then excused himself.

Bryan immediately scrambled up—nearly tripping over his feet—to follow. But Grayson raised a hand, stopping him mid-step.

As Grayson turned, Grayson’s eyes locked with Neville’s again. Then he quickly turned his head away.

Neville blinked, incredulous.

What the heck was that?!

Neville found himself locked in a half-joke, half-serious internal deliberation on Grayson’s sudden evasiveness.

This wasn’t the first time.

He had half-joked to himself before, wondering if Grayson was avoiding him—or worse, doing it on purpose.

But this? This was definitely crossing the line.

Fine. If he didn’t want to look at me, don’t. Just—don’t keep staring when you think I won’t notice.

His lips curved into a mischievous smirk. Maybe I should spread my pheromones next time. Let’s see how he handles that. After all, he didn’t like it, right?

Too caught up in his petty revenge fantasy, Neville didn’t notice it—

—the faint flicker across his system interface, the holographic screen glitching behind his thoughts.

...

As promised, Neville came out on top and officially joined the secretarial department.

His position: Technical Assistant.

[Side Quest Completed!

Job title: Orphan Hire -> Technical Assistant

Favorability: 11%

Target: Grayson Maxwell

Reward: 6969 reward points + Inventory Lv. 1]

He stared at the glowing prompt.

What the heck? Orphan Hire was a job title?

No wonder. Even if he tried to reason or prove himself to others, he was still just a charity hire in the eyes of many people. It seemed that this job title was the real problem.

Even after spending so much time with the system, he still didn’t have a clear idea of how rare these rewards really were—or how useful they could be.

But honestly? He didn’t care.

He was only humoring the system and Shelly on this mission because he felt like it. It wasn’t like he was grinding points because of Grayson. Definitely not because Grayson was a little pitiful and somehow pathetic, despite having a great figure, a perfect background, and a handsome face.

Definitely not.

Still... seeing the number of points made his eyes light up.

"FEAST!"

Neville’s eyes lit up. He clenched his fists dramatically.

The first thing on his list? A shopping spree.

He immediately used his one-day paid vacation reward from the competition. He put it to good use—filling his kitchen with shiny new cooking ware and appliances.

"Phew! That felt good," Neville sighed contentedly, hands on his hips as he surveyed his kingdom.

He finally got rid of all those questionable powders in the fridge.

Gone.

He tossed them out and replaced everything with premium ingredients from the System Mall. These were goods that were infinitely better and infinitely affordable with points than the ’infinitely expensive’ version of it in the interstellar era. His experience with that baragara already cemented his idea that nothing of ’normal’ food-looking stuff in the interstellar era was safe to consume for an Earthling.

Since he lived alone, it didn’t matter if he stuffed the items inside the storage space in the real world. There shouldn’t be anyone coming into his room unannounced or even question where the luxury goods came from.

He figured as long as he didn’t flaunt them, no one would notice.

His reward, the new skill, Inventory, was a small portal that resembled the black hell hole. It was a literal void where you stuck your hand in, felt around, and voilà—whatever he put there would stay there until he took it out.

Shelly said it was synced with a holographic list like the System Mall interface. Still, Neville hadn’t unlocked that feature because he was short of favorability points. For now, he could only cross his fingers and pray there was enough space to store everything he wanted to put in there and know where he put it.

The best part? Time stopped inside. No rot, no spoilage. Which probably explained why the system was so stingy with usage details.

As he set a few slices of some marinated meat on the grill, savoring the sizzle for a quick Samgyupsal, a sudden notification popped up, interrupting his peace.

[New Side Quest Unlocked: Survive the First Full Moon!

Reward: 500 Reward Points

Penalty for Failure: System Temporary Shutdown]

Neville froze mid-flip.

"...Huh?"

He blinked.

Penalty?

A slow chill crept down his spine.